Fandom:	Houston Knights
Series:	Alternate Universe/ Made man
Rating:	NC17
Pairing:	Joe/Levon , Levon/Szabo
Archive:	Starwinder's
Title:	Circling the Flame
Author:	Starwinder
e-mail:	starwinder2of7@gmail.com
Standard Disclaimer: Houston Knights belongs to Jay Bernstein and Michael Butler and Columbia Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. This is fan fiction, written out of love for the shows. I am making no money off this. I have no money so please don't sue me. Any original characters who may appear in these stories are the property of the author.

I've been sitting in the holding cell for what seems like forever, wondering if anybody knows I'm a cop. If the cops know, they're doing a real good job of protecting my cover. I can't remember ever being handled quite so roughly. Feels strange to see a police station from the other side.

A jailer stops in front of the door, unlocking it. "Lawton!" He calls.

Takes me a second to remember that's my name now. I get up and step out the door. He grabs my arm and hauls me along, putting on a good show of manhandling me. Least I hope it's a show. He drops me off in an interrogation room and when I see who's there I let out a sigh of relief and grin at her.

She smiles, "You doing okay, Levon?" she asks quietly.

My old partner, my new lieutenant, Joanne Beaumont. It sure is a relief to see her. "Outside of not knowing till now that the cops know I'm a cop, I'm fine, Joanne."

"Sorry about the delay in letting you know that we were aware of that but your lieutenant didn't want us to blow your cover. The only ones aware that you're a cop is myself and the Captain." The dark haired man sitting across the table from her said. "I'm Lieutenant Szabo." He held out his hand to me.

I took it. Gave him a nod. I looked back at Joanne, raising a brow in question.

She got right to the point. "Lieutenant Szabo thinks that the man in the limo is a local wiseguy, one Mario LaFiamma. He's well known but they haven't been able to pin anything on him. The entire LaFiamma family is known to be connected but there has never been any proof of anything. They've been getting tips from some one inside. This person tipped them off to the drug buy today. They don't know who it is yet or why he's doing it."

"He? You're sure it's male." I'm thinking of gorgeous.

"The voice is." Szabo puts in.

I give him a look and he adds, "He sounds familiar. Like I ought to know him. Could be one of the cousins."

"Cousins?" I ask.

"I'm related to the LaFiammas, on my mother's side." He explains. He gives a funny little shrug. "Jesse, Joey, Rico, Jimmo, Rick, Tony and Vinnie. My generation. Coulda been any of them. They all sound alike ... but for my money it's Joe or Jess. Their voices are ... different from the others ... more," he waves his hands around like he's hunting the right word, "vibrant. Only some of them are in the mug books. In fact, only Vinnie is in the mug books but we have pictures of the others. We'd like you to take a look at them, see if you recognize anybody from the warehouse."

He opens up a folder and comes to lean over my shoulder, laying it on the table in front of me. He taps the first picture, "That's Mikey LaFiamma."

I shake my head, "Favored him. But ain't." I kinda want to add, 'You favor him, too.'

He flips it over and taps the next one, "Mario LaFiamma. Mikey's kid brother."

I take a good look then nod. "That's the boss. The one that was in charge."

He seems real pleased. "Never been able to pin anything on him ... till now."

Next picture up could have been gorgeous ... but I just don't get the feel that it is. Looks like him but ...

"That's Jesse Bellarosa." Szabo enlightens me. "He look familiar?"

"Could have been him with LaFiamma. Not sure."

Szabo flips the picture over to reveal the next one, "It's easy to confuse him and Joey." He taps the next picture.

[Joey! Gorgeous has a name.] It's him all right. No doubt about it. My cock jumped to attention soon as I saw the picture. Hell of a way to pick a guy out of a line up. Just follow my dick.

"Joseph LaFiamma." He paused then went on, "I always thought that Joey might get clear of the business. He went off to the Marines at seventeen. Only came back a couple of years ago." Szabo sounds as unhappy about the prospect of Joey being mixed up in this as I am.

He leans in a little and I feel something press against my arm. He's got a hard on, too. I realize that he can see my lap ... and my jeans don't hide a thing. He can see my erection just like I can feel his. Suddenly the room is very hot. I wish I could ask him about Joey without having to worry about what I said.

Somehow we get through the rest of the pictures. I identify the guy that tested the drugs. Name's Lawrence DeMira, another cousin, of Szabo's and Joey's. Ditto for the driver, Benny Delaventura. Family tree must look like a spider web. They all favor, too. Tall, dark haired, blue, green or gray eyes. But only Joey affects my cock.

We agree that I'll stay undercover, try to get close to the LaFiammas. I don't have to worry about how I'll get out. Valdez has already called his lawyer. He'll spring us all.

Szabo says that it'll look better to the other guys in the cellblock if I seem to have been roughed up a little and he says he knows how to make it look good. Joanne looks worried but Szabo grins and tells her that there won't be any permanent damage.

I'm a mite worried about non-permanent damage but figure that sacrifices have to be made in the name of justice.

He steers me down the hall toward the cellblock, none to gently. Just before we reach the block the others are in he gives me a shove down a side hall. There's only three cells here, all unoccupied. He pushes me in one and slams the door shoving me back against it so that it clangs loudly. Leaning in, he grinds his still hard cock into mine and whispers in my ear.

"They can hear us in the cell block." He draws back and slams his groin back into mine.

"Uuuhhh!" I groan loudly, as if in pain instead of pleasure as his cock slams into mine. The door clangs, the muffled sound of flesh hitting flesh echoes. Sounds like some one's getting beat up. Feels like I'm gonna come ... soon.

He threads one hand through the bars of the door and tangles the fingers in my hair, holding me tight against the bars as he pulls back and rams in again. I'm gonna have bruises. Should be convincing.

"It was Joey at the warehouse. Wasn't it?" Not trying to be quiet; wanting them to hear the question.

I try to nod. Don't want to say 'yes' out loud when they can hear in the cellblock.

He kisses me, hard and bruising. Bites at my lip. It'll swell, look like he smacked me. I taste blood. I open my legs to let him between them. He groans. Hope they can't tell which of us it is. He steps in, starts humping. The door is clanging steadily now. I push him away.

"No!" I manage to gasp. They'll think I meant it wasn't Joey at the warehouse. All I want is to not come in my pants. That'd be hard to explain.

He slams me back against the door. They'll think he hit me. He opens my pants, then reaching in his pocket, hands me two condoms. I rip them open as he opens his pants and lets his cock out. He takes one and rolls it on ... fast, as I do the same then he's back between my legs driving me back into the door as he aligns our condom covered cocks and starts to hump.

Door's clanging steadily again, slap of flesh on flesh oughta be clearly audible in the other cellblock. He leans in starts talking ... about Joey. He knows what I need to get off.

"You never saw Joey naked. I have. He is so beautiful. He was sixteen. Oh god! He fucked me! Then last Thanksgiving, grandma's ... couldn't take my eyes off him ... had to jack off. He followed me into the bathroom. Knew I wanted him. Sat me on the sink. Knees over his shoulders." His eyes closed and I knew he was remembering Joey's cock in him.

We were both panting like over heated hounds now. Groaning constantly, the door clanging as he pounded against me, both of us nearing our climaxes. He bit into my shoulder as he came to keep from shouting. I had just a second to be grateful for the thickness of my denim shirt or I'd have teeth marks instead of a bruise ... then I was coming too.

He holds me close a minute then kisses me gently and whispers, "His eyes aren't blue. They change. Turn black when he comes. He's too good for the outfit. Get him out!"

He lets me sink to the floor, guiding me down. He takes care of the condoms and tucking me away.

When he drags me to my feet and hauls me down to the other cellblock I don't have to pretend to stagger or look battered. I couldn't walk straight to save my life. Only thing I can think about is Szabo's words, "Get him out!" Lord, I want to. Want to get him out, take him home with me, and keep him forever.

I stagger to the bunk and collapse, Valdez's lawyer will spring us soon.

The End.