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Disclaimer: All Discworld characters belong to Terry Pratchett.  I own nothing.  I’m just inspired to write stuff he isn’t likely to.  No disrespect is intended.

Author’s notes: This is the second story in the Vimes/Carrot slash series.  It isn’t strictly necessary to read them in order, as each fic is a complete story in itself.  However, for the sake of continuity it’s better to read them that way.

~

The Things We Do For Love
by Badge177

Chapter 1

The sun had long since disappeared from the skies over Ankh-Morpork, and it was late in the day.  But, at Pseudopolis Yard where work never ceased, the buildings were still alive with activity.

Commander Sir Samuel Vimes stood in the front office, still staring at the report Constable Rose had handed in earlier.  He wasn’t happy.

“Well, I know the blasted place was ransacked!” he said, raising his voice.  “But how in the hells did they break into the building in the first place?”

No one spoke.  They knew he wasn’t talking to anyone in particular.

Vimes waved the report at the occupants of the office.  “Is it so difficult to fill in a report nowadays,” he continued.  “Or do I have to do everything myself?”

Carrot was filing some papers over in the corner, he looked up from what he was doing, caught Vimes’ eye, and then looked away again.

“Gods give me strength…” Vimes muttered to himself.   He shook his head incredulously before ascending the stairs to his office.

Carrot waited until some of the others had filed out and then followed him up the stairs.  He opened the door without knocking.  “I’ll get someone else on it, sir,” he said, closing the door behind him.  “Corporal Hanson’s just got in, I’ll hand it over to him.”

Vimes didn’t answer; he sat behind his desk, running his hands over his face.

Carrot glanced at him, slightly concerned.  “Are you okay, sir?” he said.  “You look a bit… tired.”  Vimes was tired, Carrot knew.  He also knew he’d never admit it to anyone. 

Vimes sighed.  “Tired of this damned case is what I am, Carrot,” he said.  The case had been dragging on for weeks; he hated it when that happened.  There were bad people in his city and he wanted them caught and put behind bars.  He reached to the neck of his shirt and released the top button; his features were hard, dark stubble was beginning to appear on his chin.  “What am I missing, eh, Carrot?” he said.  It wasn’t a question.  “What in the bloody hells am I missing?”

“A good nights sleep, sir?” said Carrot.

Vimes looked up.

No one in the Watch would have dared say something like that to him; no one, that is, except Carrot.  And the strange thing was Vimes would allow him to get away with it, because Carrot was the only person in his life, apart from his wife, who loved him enough to tell him the truth.

Vimes and Carrot had a special relationship.  They had started out as friends, true enough, but over time it had developed into something that had gone far beyond friendship.  Although he never said it, Vimes thought the world of Carrot; he saw in him qualities he considered rare in most people; honesty being one of them.  And Carrot loved and admired Vimes above anyone else.  So much so, he couldn’t think of a single thing he wouldn’t do for him.

“You’ve been here all day, sir,” Carrot went on.  “Why don’t you go home?  It’s not as if the place is going to collapse without you.”

Vimes allowed himself a smile.  “Well, I can see you’re convinced of that,” he said, thinking if Carrot had said it, it must be true; the boy seemed completely incapable of lying.

“Come on, sir,” said Carrot brightly.  “I’m off duty in a few minutes, I’ll walk part of the way home with you.”  He smiled, knowing Vimes would feel better once he got out of his office and into the street; it was the one place he was happiest.

Vimes got up from his desk.  “Whatever would I do without you, Carrot?” he said, smiling at him wryly, as he grabbed his coat and held the door open for him.

*****

It was cool outside in the evening air, and at this time of day, the smell from the Ankh was almost bearable.  As they walked, they talked about different things.  Carrot did most of the talking; he seemed to be an authority on almost every subject.  Vimes just listened, and let his thoughts wander away from work, grateful at least that his mind was beginning to relax.  Before he realized it, they were stopping.  They were outside Carrots’ lodgings.

“Well, it was nice of you to walk the long way round, sir,” said Carrot, noticing that Vimes had gone completely out of his way to walk home.

“Er, that’s okay,” said Vimes, not realizing that he had.  “I don’t mind a bit of a walk.”

“I expect Lady Sybil will be pleased to see you home a bit earlier than normal, eh, sir?”

“Er, actually, no,” said Vimes.  “She won’t be home.  She’ll be at a meeting with some important people.”  He paused, and then added, “Well, important to her, anyway.”

“Well, if you’re not in a rush to get home, sir, why don’t you come up?  I could make some tea?”  He looked at Vimes, expectantly.

Vimes hesitated, and then sagged.  “Well, I don’t suppose it would hurt,” he said, finding it hard to refuse Carrot anything.

*****

Vimes stood looking around the room while Carrot began making the tea.  He remembered the last time he’d been in this room, alone with Carrot.  That had been the night that had changed everything, hadn’t it?  Carrot had confessed to being in love with him; they had made love, and suddenly his life hadn’t been quite so straightforward anymore…

“Here you are, sir,” said Carrot, coming out of the kitchen, handing him a mug of tea.

“Thanks,” said Vimes.  He took the mug and sat on the edge of the bed, holding the mug in his lap.

Carrot sat beside him.

Just like he did the last time.  Vimes couldn’t help thinking.

“I don’t expect this case will drag on for much longer, sir,” said Carrot, reaching out to touch Vimes’ hand reassuringly.  “I wouldn’t worry too much about it, if I were you.”

Vimes glanced at Carrot’s hand, and then stared at his mug.  He didn’t answer.

“I think I’ll send someone around to Harga’s again tomorrow,” said Carrot, still holding Vimes’ hand.  “I’m pretty sure he’s not telling us all he knows.”

Vimes continued to stare at his mug; he seemed to be thinking about something.

Carrot turned to look at him, suddenly concerned.  “Sir?”

Vimes looked up, meeting his gaze.  “Carrot, why do you love me so much?” he said, completely out of the blue.

Carrot didn’t need to think about it.  “Because you care about people,” he said.  “And because you do what is right.”

“Do you think what we’re doing now is right, Carrot?”

“Do you think it’s wrong?”

Damn, why did he have to answer that question with a question? thought Vimes.

Carrot was watching him.  “If you’re unsure about our relationship, then why haven’t you ended it?”

Vimes knew the answer to that, but couldn’t quite bring himself to say it.  “Is that what you want?” he managed.

“No…” said Carrot, searching Vimes’ cool grey eyes, trying to read him; they were fathomless.  “But you’ve never told me why you let it continue.”

Vimes looked over Carrot’s face, seeming to struggle for the right words.  When he eventually spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

“Because I need you, Carrot,” he said simply.

Carrot sat looking at him.  It was the first time Vimes had admitted to any feelings he might have for him.  He hadn’t exactly said he loved him; but then, perhaps he couldn’t.  He took the mug from Vimes’ unresisting hands and put it on the bedside table, before turning to look at him again.

“That’s all I needed to know,” he said.

He reached to the back of Vimes’ head and pulled him gently towards him, kissing him just above his left eyebrow.

Vimes closed his eyes, marvelling at the wonderful tingling feeling it gave him.  Carrot’s hand fell to his cheek where he ran his thumb along his bottom lip.  Vimes opened his eyes.  Carrot was looking at him adoringly; that look always got to Vimes.

“I don’t deserve you, Carrot,” he said softly.

Carrot smiled.  “The more you say that, the more it makes me want you.”

He leaned forwards then and kissed Vimes’ lips; gently at first, and then more persistently, not letting up until Vimes returned his kiss.  The moment he did, he leaned into him, gently pushing him back onto the bed.  Suddenly filled with longing for him, he began to kiss Vimes more passionately, gently biting and pulling at his lips with his own.

Vimes gasped as Carrot’s mouth suddenly tore away and moved to his throat, kissing and licking the sensitive skin of his neck; Carrot’s hands were already tearing at his shirt, trying to undo the buttons.

“Oh, Carrot…” Vimes whispered; his resistance, already low, was now non-existent.

He reached to Carrot’s waist and slid his hands under his shirt, running them lightly over Carrot’s back.

Carrot moaned and switched his attention to his own shirt, removing it, eagerly exposing more of his flesh to Vimes’ caresses.  Then he moved over and straddled Vimes.  He towered above him bare-chested, taking in every feature of the man beneath him.

He undid the remaining buttons on Vimes’ shirt and pulled it wide open, watching as the cool air hit Vimes’ body, making his nipples harden.  Then he bent over and flicked his tongue across them, licking and teasing the sensitive little nubs. 

Vimes gasped and arched his back; pressing himself against him.  Carrot smiled and ground his hips into him, enjoying the feel of Vimes’ hardness beneath him; delighted in knowing he was the cause of it.

He reached down and began to unbutton Vimes’ breeches, his eyes never leaving his face.  Vimes’ eyes were still closed; his lips parted slightly as a sigh escaped his lips.  Carrot bent down and kissed him again, his tongue pushing past Vimes’ unresisting lips, eager to explore his mouth.

Vimes groaned deeply; his breath was ragged against Carrot’s mouth.

It spurred Carrot on. 

He sat back and slid Vimes’ breeches down over his narrow hips, pulling them off completely.  Then, hardly stopping, he hastily removed his own.  They were both naked now.  Carrot moved over and straddled Vimes again; he leaned over him, watching him, his weight supported by his powerful arms; he was sweating; his huge muscles gleamed, his enormous body almost twice the size of Vimes. 

Vimes opened his eyes and looked up at him, unsure of what Carrot would do next.

Carrot simply smiled.

And Vimes went to pieces.

“Carrot…” he whispered.  “I-I want to…”

“Tell me,” said Carrot softly.  “Tell me what you want.”

“I-I want to, you know… ” Vimes hesitated, unsure of the correct words to use.  “I want you to make love to me, properly.”

“I can’t…” said Carrot gently.  “I’d hurt you.”

Vimes wasn’t sure whether he felt relief or rejection.  “But… I want to please you.”

Genuinely touched by Vimes’ offer, Carrot bent down and kissed him, tenderly.  “You don’t have to,” he whispered, against his lips.

“But, I—”

Vimes gasped as Carrot’s hand suddenly closed around him, momentarily shutting him up.

Carrot stroked him; watching as Vimes writhed, helplessly, beneath him.  He smiled; Vimes was putty in his hands.  He bent down and kissed him again before working his way lower, finally nuzzling into the soft, dark hair before taking Vimes into his mouth.

Suddenly, Vimes reached down and pulled Carrot’s head up.  “No, n-not in your mouth, Carrot,” he gasped.  “This time, I-I want to do it right…”

“Then we’ll do it my way,” Carrot whispered.  He reached to the bedside table and retrieved something.

Vimes felt Carrot’s hands on him again… warm… wet… slippery.  Carrot was coating him in oil.  Vimes closed his eyes, helpless again.

Carrot moved over and straddled him, taking Vimes into his hand, holding him against the entrance to his body.

Vimes opened his eyes, and looked up.

Their eyes met, and they smiled at one another.  In that one, brief moment, untold words of affection seemed to pass between them.  Then Carrot leaned forward and they kissed, tenderly, as Carrot slowly lowered himself onto him.

Joined together at last, they held each other close as their bodies moved; slowly and rhythmically, completely and utterly lost in their world.  Nothing else mattered now; there was nothing else.  It was just the two of them, and their devotion to each other.

Suddenly, Vimes’ head fell back.  “Oh gods, Carrot…” he gasped.  “I-I can’t hold on…”

Carrot reached out and took Vimes’ hand, guiding it to his own body.  “Make me come with you,” he whispered.

Vimes held him and stroked him, gently.  He was rewarded with a gasp as Carrot fell forwards, burying his face in his neck, uttering indecipherable words of pleasure.  Vimes continued, moving his hand in time with their bodies as Carrot moaned louder, uttering words he could hardly make out.

“Oh, gods… d-don’t stop… oh, yes… oh, Sam!

It was the first time Carrot had ever used his name.  The effect on Vimes was devastating.  He exploded into Carrot, crying out as he held onto him, his entire body shaking with the sheer force of his orgasm.  Carrot was coming too, the effect of both things together blowing Vimes’ mind completely.

They lay still for a long time afterwards; out of breath, drenched in sweat, still wrapped in each other’s arms.

Carrot was the first to move.  He lifted his head slowly and looked down at Vimes.

Vimes’ wet hair was clinging to the sides of his face.

Carrot bent down and kissed his cheek before reaching out and gently brushing it aside.  “I suppose we’d better get you home soon,” he said, continuing to run his fingers through Vimes’ damp hair.

Vimes nodded, unsure if he could trust himself to speak. 

Carrot smiled at him, and then grinned.  It quickly turned into a soft laugh.

“What?” Vimes managed.

“Samuel Vimes, you are a mess,” said Carrot, jokingly.

Vimes looked down.  It was true; they both were.  Apart from the obvious, they were both soaked with sweat and plastered in oil.

Vimes panicked.  “Oh, good grief, Carrot,” he groaned. 

“Don’t worry,” said Carrot.  “I know just what you need.”

“You do?”

“Why, yes,” said Carrot, grinning wickedly.  “Why don’t you join me… in a nice, hot soak in the bath?”

*****

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