Movie: S.W.A.T.

Summary: Takes place in the locker room when Gamble accuses Street of ratting him out to Fuller. Feeling betrayed, Gamble leaves Street, who stayed to think about their relationship as partners… and more.

Warning: M for swearing and sexual themes (BL/Yaoi)

Pairing: Street/Gamble

Author's Notes: I wrote most of this at school before typing it up. This one-shot reflects my desire for Gamble and Street's relationship to be more, the regret that Street must have felt for invoking the feelings of agony and betrayal that Gamble must have felt when he believed that Street actually ratted him out to Fuller to stay on S.W.A.T. Maybe Gamble shouldn't have jumped to conclusions, but Street never denied it in the locker room and I believe that was what sent Gamble spiraling towards his downfall in the actual movie.

Disclaimer: I do not own S.W.A.T. or the characters!

Enjoy!

Betrayal and Thoughts

"Fuck you and S.W.A.T." He growled before smashing Street's head into the mirror, leaving a huge crack. Gamble let go of his partner's, no, ex-partner's dark blue police shirt and walked away. It was not only betrayal he felt, but he also felt scared and lonely, as if his best friend had cast him out into the stormy sea on a broken-down raft that could fully break at any moment. Gamble knew what he did to save all the hostages in that bank—despite the mistake of hitting that black woman, which did save her life in the end— was right. He knew it, fellow S.W.A.T. members knew it, and Gamble was sure as hell that Street did too. He grabbed his bag and stopped, tempted to turn around and shout at Street more. But he couldn't. He still couldn't get over the betrayal, the fact that Street had sold him out to keep a job, for money. To hell with partners.

Street gave a ragged huff, trying to catch his breath. One hand was on his head as a sign that the impacted area was hurting quite a bit. He looked at Gamble's slouching back, wondering why he just didn't deny the whole thing since it wasn't true that he ratted out his partner to Fuller. "Brian…" He murmured. Why wasn't he leaving?

Gamble turned around, his face stricken with despair and hopelessness—the emotions simply shocked Street to the core since he never saw Gamble like this before. "Do you really want to stop being partners?" He asked softly. "You'd sell me out just to stay on S.W.A.T." The accusation was clear as crystal and stung like a raging wasp.

Street couldn't find words to retort with, to tell the truth. He leaned against the counter, still cradling his head.

The man who was planning to quit dropped his bag and took a step towards his friend. "Jim…" Gamble looked at his hands, the ones that had harmed and killed. He just harmed his best friend. He knew that deep down inside he wanted to kill Street for betraying him. But he couldn't.

"I'm fine," Street said abruptly, "I deserved that, didn't I?" He chuckled dryly, lying through his rigid teeth. God damn. He sank to the floor, sitting since he felt light-headed. Gamble slammed his head harder than he thought.

Gamble frowned. He approached the grimacing man and crouched down next to Street. "We're still connected, ya know?" Hell if he knew what he was talking about. "Imma leave and you're not gonna stop me or join me? The two choices that show you still love me." He whispered harshly into Street's ear. "You and I both know you still do, but why?"

Street chuckled again, "Maybe we need a time-out, Gamble."

"Bullshit!" Gamble pushed Street to the floor and stood up.

Street winced, nearly hitting his head again. "You're the one who's leaving." He pointed out, slowly standing up as well.

"You don't even want me to stay!" Gamble snapped, walking a couple feet away and kicking a locker again.

"Brian—"

"Save it for your girlfriend, Street." Gamble growled, picked up his bag, and looked at Street with seething eyes. "I'm sick and tired of all of this. Maybe it is better if I leave so you can get a new and better partner and lover who wouldn't mind you still having a girlfriend on the side!"

"Brian!"

Gamble simply walked away, using his right hand to stick up his middle finger as a response to Street's call.

Street groaned, a migraine pounding away at his head. He was so distorted that he had to stagger over to the bench and sit down in order to take a breather. He leaned over, his face buried in his hands. "Fuck… fuck me…"

He knew that he had been horrible in his own way. The four years of being with Lara was agonizing for Gamble, whom Street had been with for three years… romantically. Street noticed that, but he ignored it like the fool he was. Never mind the fact that they've been friends since high school and went through hellish training with each other's support to reach the elite police unit. When they finally became part of S.W.A.T., Gamble was so happy that during their celebration party, he kissed Street smack on the lips and quickly fumbled out an apology by saying that he got too excited. Everyone laughed and Street thought nothing of it since he was pretty damn happy and drunk himself.

Then, when he got together with Lara, he didn't miss Gamble's crestfallen expression when Street announced the news to everyone. But the look faded so quickly into a wide smile and Gamble simply slapped him on the back, sniggering "I bet she's good in bed." With that, Street rolled his eyes, gave Gamble a good punch in the arm, and forgot about Gamble's initial reaction.

Yet a year later when Street was drinking at Gamble's apartment, Gamble kept asking about how Lara was. "C'mon man…" Gamble had groaned, but Street only chuckled, took a swig of beer, and changed the subject. But the horsing around and fun atmosphere disappeared when Gamble boldly declared that he was better than Street's girlfriend—

"—in bed," Gamble winked.

Street stuttered, putting down his bottle of beer on the coffee table, "You kidding, right?"

Gamble stumbled over and sat down next to Street on the couch, "Nah, I'm serious Jim!" A hungry glint showed Street that yeah, his friend was pretty serious.

"Nah, you're not." Street insisted, pushing Gamble away before reaching for his beer, but Gamble snatched his wrist, holding it tightly to prevent it from ever reaching the bottle.

"I am," Gamble slurred, "Wanna try?"

"Try what?" Though Street was drunk, he was still sober enough to sound incredulous… if that made any sense at all.

"Sex." Gamble stated bluntly. He leaned over, his ragged breathing reeked of alcohol, "You'll like it."

"Look at you!" Street laughed, "You sound like a whore!"

Gamble scowled and moved closer to Street. He didn't like being taken lightly. "Really now?" All of a sudden, he straddled Street's lap and pinned the man's shoulders to the couch. "I can show you a whore." he whispered harshly.

Street struggled, but he was too uncoordinated and too tipsy to use muster any strength to throw Gamble off of him. "Get," he growled, "off of me!"

Gamble ignored him and merely pressed his lips to Street's, quickly using his tongue to enter Street's mouth. Street continued to struggle a bit more, but he couldn't deny how hot the kiss made him feel. Shortly enough, Street found himself grabbing Gamble's hair just to deepen the kiss. Desire overcame logic and Gamble and Street were soon staggering over to the bedroom while still kissing and now tugging each other's shirts off.

Once they got inside, Gamble slammed Street against the wall and initiated another kiss while Street's hands explored Gamble's broad shoulders and arms and Gamble's knee rubbed at Street's crotch. Then, Street decided to take control and grabbed Gamble, pushing the shorter man to the bed that was a couple feet away. This time, Street was on top and he had Gamble pinned to the bed.

The heated passion didn't stop as the men took off their pants quickly and Gamble let Street take him first. "Fuck," Street groaned after some lubricant was applied when Gamble blindly reached for a tube in the top drawer of the nightstand, "You're so… fucking tight…"

Gamble took a deep breath and tried to relax, "You're my goddamn first, Jim. Shaddup!"

Street chuckled as he thrusted deeper, grabbing Gamble's twitching cock. "That," he exhaled, whispering into Gamble's ear and nipping it, "somehow, turns me on."

Gamble gasped—Jim was pleased to note how sensitive Gamble was—and grinned, "Good." He shuddered as Street stroked his painful erection.

Pretty soon, Street was thrusting in and out at a rhythmic pace, both men groaning out of pleasure. It was rough and wasn't like any time Street experienced with a woman. This was more passionate, hungrier, more animalistic. Gamble didn't need any whispered sweet-nothings or soft and gentle touches. Every time Street tried to slow down to make it more comfortable or pleasurable for his partner, Gamble would always urge for "fucking Jim" to go faster and harder.

"I'm gonna cum," Street warned, feeling like he was some horny teenager who couldn't keep himself from letting loose so soon. In reality, they were going at it for longer than Street had thought since, for a while, both men refused to be the first to let go. Jim, sadly enough, had to surrender.

"Go ahead," Gamble replied gruffly, "Inside me is fine."

Street started to thrust faster though and Gamble matched that pace until they both released all they had to offer: Street's cum inside Gamble, Gamble's on the bed sheets. Street collapsed on top of gamble, but soon pulled out and rolled off, both breathing heavily as they lay next to each other. Gamble pulled the thin blankets to cover the naked two and mumbled that Street should sleep. And Street did, falling asleep quickly like a baby.

The next morning, Street woke up to sunlight streaming into the room through the blinds of the windows. He propped himself on his elbows, noticing that Gamble wasn't next to him.

"Mornin', cowboy," Gamble was smoking next to the slightly open window. He only had a pair of paints on—the same from last night. He turned and smirked at the man on the bed.

Street grimaced, cradling his head due to a major hangover. "What happened?" That was a horrible question. He remembered what happened; everything was crystal clear in his mind. He was just stalling, trying to make sense of what had occurred.

Gamble grinned just like that damn Cheshire cat and snubbed his cigarette into a convenient bowl before he walked towards the bed. "You know what." He stated simply as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Took me a while to scrape the rest of your semen out of my ass."

Street had the decency to turn red at those crass words and groaned, "I was drunk."

"You still liked it anyway." Gamble said as he crept nearer. "By the way, I called your girl. Told her you were still asleep like a fuckin' rock on my couch. You're lucky we got the day off."

"Thanks." Street murmured. "Hold on, you okay?" He became worried since it was Gamble's first time after all.

Gamble winced, but laughed, "It'd take more to make me stuck on the bed for a while."

Street raised an eyebrow, throwing away thoughts of going home to his girlfriend. "Is that a challenge?" It was pretty damn scary how he was taking everything into stride. But… something about this situation made him feel at ease. Maybe it was because it was Gamble for god's sake.

"Maybe," Street's partner said cockily, "You can try after I take your first time."

Street licked his lips, the idea not repulsive to him at all. But he was kind of scared. The thought of him on the receiving end sounded painful and not as good as the other way around, but Gamble did it for him. "Alright," he finally agreed after a bit of hesitation.

Gamble smirked, "Good."

The two had spent the rest of their Sunday having sex and taking turns being on top. After that event, it was silently agreed upon that they'd continue this newly evolved relationship for a while. Though it was never spoken for a year or so, Street knew that Gamble really liked him… possible even—

" —love you."

Street looked up and stared at Gamble, who was sitting across from him. They were eating Chinese takeout at Street's apartment after an extremely long day that was full of action after action. Damn bank robbers were always extreme to the point that S.W.A.T. had to be called in to take care of the issue. Lara was away at Las Vegas for the weekend for her friend's birthday so Gamble decided staying at Street's place for the night would make his day… or night.

"Excuse me?" Street munched on his noodles, trying to understand.

Gambled glared at him, "You heard me!" He snapped. "Dammit Jim!"

"Calm down." Street put his chopsticks and the food carton down on the table. "What did you say?"

"I said," Gamble grumbled, taking a deep breath, "I love you." He definitely didn't want to repeat it again.

Street blinked, "Oh." Oh.

"How about you?" Gamble looked at him expectantly.

"What?"

"Well, you should tell me how you feel about me." Gamble actually sounded patient for once, "I'm not gonna be your fuck toy whenever your girlfriend ain't home." They both knew it didn't matter whether or not Lara was here. Street spent quite a few nights at Gamble's apartment.

"Oh," Street began feeling nervous. He never really thought deeply about it before. He always thought of Gamble as his partner and best friend. "I…" he looked Gamble in the eye, "I—I don't know." Bullshit, he thought better of Gamble than of Lara, and he knew he didn't love Lara that much.

But Gamble didn't. He stood up suddenly and frowned at Street. "Well, you better know soon!" He slammed his food onto the table, "Or your girl'll be so horrified when she comes back Monday."

Street frowned back, "Was that a threat?" He knew Gamble was getting frustrated with Street still having a girlfriend, but he didn't think Gamble would tell her.

"Yeah," Gamble shrugged, getting ready to leave as he put on his jacket that was previously hanging on the chair.

"Wait!" Street protested, standing up and grabbing Gamble by the shoulders. "Please don't."

"I'm not gonna stand around and let you smack lips and cock with that girl forever." Gamble retorted crudely. "You know it's a miracle I put up with that for this long."

"I know, I know," Street nodded vigorously, "But it's hard, Brian. Please. Give me some time."

Gamble stared at him, but then he slowly relaxed, "Alright, I'll give you the weekend."

Street nearly sighed out of relief, but Gamble grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into Street's bedroom. "No, no," Street muttered, his eyes widening.

However, Gamble threw Street to the bed and immediately straddled him, "You know what's exciting?" Gamble hissed before licking Street's neck. "We never had sex on your bed before."

Street shivered, knowing the idea was appealing to Gamble since he knew Street would be uncomfortable afterwards. After all, this was where he slept with Lara.

Gamble grinned, sensing the discomfort. He rapidly handcuffed one of Street's wrists to the head of the bed post.

"Hey!" Why wasn't Street that surprised Gamble just happened to have a pair of handcuffs…

Gamble shrugged, "So you can't escape." He slyly slid his hand down and began to unzip Street's pants, but didn't take it off. He rubbed against Street's crotch before he took off his own pants.

Street moaned, hungrily eying the stripping man. His free hand reached out to touch Gamble's bare chest after the shirt was off, but Gamble slapped it away.

"Don't make me handcuff that hand too." Gamble smirked as he straddled Street again and slowly unbuttoned Street's shirt. He dragged his tongue from Street's moderately hardening nipple to his neck where he teasingly bit a sensitive area. He was definitely planning to torture Street.

But Street couldn't resist. His free hand snaked around and forced Gamble to kiss him by grabbing Gamble's head. Gamble didn't mind. He kissed back, both men fighting for dominance as Gamble slid Street's pants off. The shirt stayed on due to the handcuffs getting in the way. Gamble continued to tease, however, and rubbed his butt against Street's hardening cock. Gamble's entrance was getting readied by one of his fingers that were completely covered in lube. But Street's hand forced Gamble's fingers away and Street inserted one of his own fingers into Gamble's ass.

"Fuck!" Gamble gasped since the finger was dry. But Street remedied that by wiping some lube from Gamble's wet hand to his own fingers and reinserting the finger. "Asshole," Gamble mumbled as he allowed Street to continue. They continued to kiss passionately but Gamble hurried the process, too impatient to wait much longer, and maneuvered Street's cock to enter Gamble's hole.

The new source of heat made Street tense, but he relaxed in order to ease the process for Gamble. He soon felt Gamble relax and used that opportunity to surprise his lover by thrusting in fully and suddenly.

Gamble gasped again, digging his nails into Street's free arm. The couple adjusted so that Street could sit properly, with legs loosely crossed and his hand still handcuffed, and Gamble could sit on Street's lap. Gamble had to wrap his arms around Street's neck to use the position as leverage to move up and down. Street's free hand was placed on Gamble's bottom but was soon moved to make things more pleasurable via stroking Gamble's hard erection. Gamble bit Street's earlobe, invoking a shiver from his lover, "Don't you dare cum before I do."

And Street tried very hard not to. But it wasn't easy since Gamble was prone to teasing the hell out of Street. They had sex for the rest of the day, finally ate dinner—at a rather nice restaurant courtesy to Gamble—, had another round of sex—on Street's kitchen counter—involving ice cream, and then turned in for the night due to exhaustion and satisfaction. On Sunday, however, Gamble topped Street all day—with Street handcuffed to the bed again—until Street was pretty fucking sure that his asshole was imprinted to exactly fit Gamble's cock. Luckily, or not, Gamble rendered Street unable to walk for the rest of the day so the man had to rest on the couch while Gamble had to clean all of the bed sheets… and the kitchen. By Sunday night, Gamble gave Street a chaste kiss on the lips and left, saying that he was willing to wait longer for a real answer—which was good since Gamble had spared no time at all for Street to think about his true feelings for the man.

Gamble was always patient with Street. Street realized that just now. He groaned, his head still feeling like it had split from the encounter with the mirror. He looked at the broken mirror. Yeah, Gamble had been patient with Street for another two years. But now? He was fed up. For sure. Not only Gamble thought Street had betrayed him, but he also thought Street had chosen Lara over him. Street had never told Gamble, "I love you," but they both knew that Street felt that for a while. Though Gamble was always acting tougher than Street, Street was the one with the problem about admitting feelings for someone or expressing them at all. He was an idiot. A goddamn idiot.

Street finally stood up and slowly gathered his things. What he did to Gamble was horrible, but Street didn't think he can ever apologize. He was too ashamed. He didn't deserve the chance to say sorry. He didn't even deserve Gamble.

Author's Note: I left this as incomplete—even though I intend for this to be a one-shot—because, if I am encouraged, I might write a continuation and make it a two-shot or even make it a multi-chapter story. I'm still not sure… Thoughts anyone? Also, please review my story and feel free to criticize and/or comment.