glaikit blethers

Title: Alias Smith and Jones (5/?)
Author: fififolle
Rating: MA
Pairings: Tariq Masood/Dimitri Levendis
Spoilers: Spooks S9, S10x01-04
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I write this for fun or something, make no money, etc.
Wordcount: Part 5 - 2529
Summary: Tariq makes the right call.
Author Notes: Dimitri takes Tariq to his personal safe house. A big loooong chapter with explicit slash. Spoilers through Episode 4 now.
Link to Part One and other parts.


~

“Dimitri? It's me, Ruth.”

Dimitri smiled. She always said who it was, even though he knew perfectly well. For someone so clever and talented, the analyst was very self-effacing.

“What's up?”

“Harry wants us all here at 10. For a briefing. A private one.”

That meant a trip to the rooftop for a quiet word with the team out of prying eyes. No doubt to discuss tactics about the CIA. But Dimitri was on his way to the hospital to take Tariq home. Dimitri made a quick calculation in his head and reckoned he had just enough time to get back in time for the briefing, unless Tariq's new place was in Ipswich. He'd promised him it was close, well within the M25, but...

“Dimitri? Are you still there?”

“Sorry, yes. That's fine. I'll be there.”

“Good. Look... Are you all right? I mean... Tariq...”

God, how he wished he could tell her. He hated lying to her. “I'm fine. Really. Thanks for asking. I miss him, but we're not allowed to grieve, remember?”

There was a pause, and then she said quietly, “I know. Not like normal people. See you soon?”

“You bet.”

He slipped his phone in his pocket, grabbed his keys from the table and hurried out.

~

Dimitri felt nervous as he went into the hospital. His palms felt a little sweaty, and his heart was beating fast. Like some stupid teenager on a first date. He had to get a grip.

He couldn't afford to make a mistake.

Tariq was waiting for him in his room, duffel bag packed and ready.

“All set?” he asked Tariq, who was smiling almost as broadly as he was.

Tariq stood up. “Even wiped my prints,” he grinned.

Dimitri shook his head and picked up the bag. “Haha, very funny. Let's go, Smith.”

Tariq thanked the nurses on the way out for helping him, and they beamed at them and waved.

“They think we're cute,” muttered Tariq as the doors swung shut behind them and they set off towards the main exit.

“I was the bad guy!” Dimitri protested.

“But you turned it around.” Tariq held his arm briefly, and Dimitri stopped, turned to face him.

Tariq leaned in and tipped his head up. Dimitri bent down to kiss him, brief and warm.

“I did, didn't I?”

Tariq nodded and carried on walking. “Want to bring the car around? I'll wait here and stand off.” Coded language for making sure that no one was following them.

Dimitri exhaled sharply. “Okay.”

~

Dimitri began to relax only when the Audi had passed Mile End and they were heading out of Central London.

Tariq had been directing him, but he still didn't know where they were going.

“What's this place like? A bedsit in Beckton?”

“No, course not. Head out to Stratford.”

“I need to be back on the Grid at 10. Harry's briefing us on the CIA situation.”

Tariq ran the back of his hand over the window and stared out. “What if it's not Coaver? What if someone wants to make you think it's Coaver?”

It was something that Dimitri had been considering. “I'll ask Ruth about that. Right now, you need to focus on getting better. You still look weak.”

“Oh, thanks,” smiled Tariq, turning to him. “Make a guy feel good.”

“Just want to take care of you,” mumbled Dimitri, slowing down for some traffic lights.

They drove in silence for a while, and Dimitri wasn't sure what to say after that.

“Take a right here,” Tariq said eventually.

They drove for a few more minutes, and then they both spoke at once.

“Thank you for...” “I'm sorry I...”

They grinned at each other, and Tariq laughed.

“It's not far now. Left here.”

Five minutes later, Tariq made him pull into a side street not far from Wanstead Golf Club, and they parked outside a small block of flats.

“This it?”

“Yeah. Selsdon Road. Like it?”

Dimitri had no idea how Tariq could afford a flat he'd never used, and said so as he got the bag from the boot and they went inside.

“One thing I learned very quickly on the Grid, Dimitri. Always have a Plan B, no matter what the cost.”

They went up one flight of stairs and Tariq opened a door at the end of the landing, checking the piece of paper trapped in the jamb. Dimitri carried the bag in and laid it down on a dusty table in the open-plan living space.

The flat was small and only had basic furniture, but it was quiet and safe. Dimitri loved it.

Tariq checked all the rooms and joined Dimitri in the living room. Dimitri reached out and held his hand.

“Will you be okay? I don't want to leave you.”

Tariq shook his head, settling himself gently against Dimitri. “Don't worry about me. I'm completely recovered. I have some shopping to do, and tidy up here. Get myself back online and figure out who the hell wanted to kill me.”

Dimitri blinked. “Don't you fucking dare. You just got yourself safe. Keep your head down. Please.”

“Half safe, Dimitri. Until we know who did this and why, both of us are compromised. Let me do this my way.” He stretched up and kissed Dimitri firmly.

Dimitri couldn't help it, he growled, but slipped his arms around the slighter man and deepened the kiss, scared for him, wanting him, needing this.

Tariq's forehead rested against his. “Go. They will be waiting for you. Stay safe, okay?”

Dimitri nodded and pulled away reluctantly. “I will.”

How was he to know he would be pistol-whipped by a suicide bomber half way through the afternoon?

~

It took Dimitri half an hour to go two streets as he approached Selsdon Road that night. His neck was throbbing and he couldn't trust himself not to spot a tail as he made his way back to see Tariq.

Maybe Tariq would let him stay the night...

Finally, definitely sure he was alone, he buzzed up to Tariq's flat, smiling sheepishly at the camera, and the door clicked open.

Dimitri went up the stairs and along to find Tariq waiting at the front door for him. He rubbed at his neck and smiled.

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

“You've got that look,” Tariq said as they both went inside and Tariq locked the door behind them.

“What look?”

“Sit down. Let me get you a drink. The one where you've been beat up and you're trying to hide it.”

Dimitri tried for a smirk, but Tariq was looking in the fridge so it was wasted. “That was hours ago. I've rescued kidnapped children since then,” he called instead.

Tariq did look impressed as he handed over a beer. Dimitri took it and finally looked around, taking in his surroundings.

The flat was now clean and tidy, with cardboard boxes stacked in one corner and a full PC set up at a table opposite the window, several odd-looking boxes attached to it, and a bunch of cables trailing down to the sockets.

Suddenly, Tariq's hands were on his shoulders and there were thumbs over his spine.

“Ah...” “Ow. Fuck.”

“Gun?”

“Bastard.”

Tariq chuckled, and moved around the sofa to sit next to him. “I hope you got him back later.”

Dimitri sighed. “You could say that, yeah. Bullet in the brain from CO19. Meanwhile I took out the kidnapper and gave Erin her daughter back.” He took a long suck of beer and stared at the wall for a while.

“Erin's...? Wow. Any connection to...?”

“No. Nothing to do with the CIA. Islamic extremists. Better the devil you know, eh?” He turned to Tariq, and was pleased to see him force a smile.

Dimitri felt the adrenaline of the day wearing off and he drank more beer, rubbing a hand over his face. “I wanted to tell her – Erin – about you. She was in pieces. I thought... Anyway, I didn't.”

“Thank you.” Tariq's hand settled over his. “Maybe this will all be over soon...”

Dimitri pushed his beer can onto the table and pulled Tariq close with a hand behind his neck. “I want it to be over so I can tell Ruth you're okay, so we can start something and not have to look over our shoulder every minute.”

Tariq leaned closer, pressing their foreheads together, their breath mingling. “We can still start something.”

They kissed, Dimitri not sure who was pushing who, but it ended up with him lying back on the sofa with Tariq pressing down on him in all the right places, and hands under his shirt that knew exactly what they were doing.

Dimitri tried to return the favour, sliding his fingers under Tariq's t-shirt and feeling the warm skin, still kissing him, hot and wet. He wanted...

“Dimitri?”

“Mm hm?” He liked the way Tariq's neck was so long and tasted so good.

“You're staying here tonight, yeah?”

“Can I? I'd like that.”

“Good. Stay with me.”

Dimitri nipped lightly at Tariq's collarbone. “Call me Dima if you like?”

“All right. Want to take this somewhere more comfortable, Dima? Like maybe bed?”

Dimitri paused, his hand about to slide under Tariq's waistband and onto his arse. But even he could see the logic. And Tariq was asking him, so there was no hesitation. “You bet.”

Tariq scrambled off him and held out his hand. Dimitri thought he looked so fucking hot, his hair all mussed, his t-shirt askew and his jeans unfastened, lips swollen and rosy.

Dimitri grabbed his hand and got up, drawing him into a deep kiss that left them both breathless. Then he let Tariq lead the way to the bedroom.

There was only a bed and a small cabinet beside it, no wardrobe or mirror or anything else in the room, but the bed looked large and soft and had crisp clean linen.

“Nice,” muttered Dimitri, and pulled Tariq' shirt over his head. He ran his palms over the smattering of hair across his chest and pushed gently, letting Tariq bounce back onto the bed. He crawled over him and tugged down his jeans, leaving him with a beautiful man in his blue underwear stretched out on top of the bed. Tariq was perfect, slim, but firm smooth skin that never ended, the outline of his hard cock mouthwateringly obvious. “Very nice.”

“Not fair,” smiled Tariq, and began unbuttoning Dimitri's shirt. “I want you to strip, too.”

Dimitri helped, tossing his shirt aside and removing his own dark Levi's. He always felt self-conscious like this, tall and lanky and too bloody pale, with no muscle to speak of now that he wasn't swimming every morning.

But Tariq's eyes were blown wide, dark and lustful. “You're really hot,” he smiled.

“Don't sound so surprised. Ex-SBS, remember? Shark wrestling makes you dead fit.”

Tariq laughed, his fingers tracing Dimitri's breastbone, coming to rest over his heart. “What do you want?”

Dimitri wasn't sure, and it made him nervous again. He lay down beside Tariq and caught the other man's hand in his over his chest. “You. I don't know. It's been a while...”

Tariq's kiss and warm, warm smile calmed his racing pulse.

“Let me tell you what I want, Dima. I want you to suck me, and then I want you to fuck me, slow and deep until I fall apart.”

Dimitri groaned. Fuck, that sounded good. He ran his hand over the bulge in Tariq's briefs and grinned. “God, yes, sounds perfect.”

It was easy, with Tariq's clever hands encouraging him, to slide down the bed and do exactly that, freeing the other man's cock from the confines of his underwear and take him in his mouth.

It had been a while, but this was what he'd wanted for so long, and Tariq was making soft, hot noises that left Dimitri in no doubt that he was doing this right. It felt good, the slightly bitter taste of Tariq's pre-come hitting the back of his throat and pushing him further, making him harder.

Tariq's hips bucked a little, and his hands pushed at Dimitri's shoulders. “Fuck, stop, so close...”

Dimitri, breathing hard, reluctantly let Tariq's cock slip from his mouth and crawled up to share his taste with him, grinding their cocks together.

“Want to come with you inside me,” Tariq murmured.

“Fuck,” Dimitri gasped, burying his face in Tariq's neck as a spike of lust hit him.

Tariq chuckled, and pushed at him, rolling away to get a condom and lube from the bedside cabinet, pressing them into Dimitri's hand as he got to his knees.

“On your back,” Dimitri commanded. He wanted to see Tariq's face, wanted to know he was alive, that they were both alive.

Tariq lay back obediently, and his hands slid over Dimitri's chest. “Please,” he smiled.

Dimitri spent some time running his slick thumb and finger over Tariq's entrance, enjoying the sensations and watching Tariq losing a little of his control. He touched him, pushing a finger inside, taking his time to relax his lover.

“You know I said I wanted slow?” panted Tariq, his fingers gripping around Dimitri's arms.

“Uh huh?”

“Changed my mind,” he gasped, pushing against Dimitri's touch.

Dimitri laughed and leaned down to kiss Tariq open-mouthed. “You got it.”

But he was careful, as he lined himself up and pushed his sheathed cock against Tariq. His lover took him easily, and Dimitri moaned, pushing deeper in one smooth thrust until he was pressed to Tariq's body, his lover panting under him.

“You're beautiful,” murmured Dimitri, and began to thrust, watching Tariq's eyelashes flutter with every push and draw, his big brown eyes trying to focus on Dimitri but failing every time his balls brushed up against him.

Dimitri tried to steal a kiss between thrusts, and Tariq stretched up to meet him, but after a while all he wanted to do was kneel back and pound into the other man, and Tariq's whispered curses encouraged him.

He knew he'd hit the right spot when Tariq gave a deep groan and let go of him to reach for his own cock, squeezing it and stroking himself as Dimitri fucked him again and again, and they were both glistening with sweat.

“Dimitri, oh fuck...” Tariq's breathing stuttered as he came, his cock throwing ropes of come up his heaving chest.

Dimitri's orgasm hit him like a wave of heat, tearing through his body at something like forty knots and leaving him shaking, pushing deeper for a moment more to feel Tariq around him.

He leaned forward, compelled to wrap himself around Tariq as his cock softened and slipped free. Tariq was grinning, running a hand through his damp hair. They shared lazy kisses and Dimitri cleaned himself up, finally settling Tariq in his arms, tangled together with him.

Dimitri laughed softly, still tingling. “Fuck. That was amazing.”

Tariq nodded against his neck. “Worth nearly dying for.”

That earned him a light punch on the arm. “Shut up. And be careful, yeah? I know what you're like.”

Tariq inhaled deeply and pressed closer. “Don't worry. I know what I'm doing.”

TBC - Link to Part Six