Research Grants



Disclaimers: Cory belongs to Rysher Panzer Davis and Indy belongs to George Lucas. I can just look, and drool, and dream.

BuenaVentura, Colombia

"I had it in my hands. I had the damn thing in my hands!"

Groaning out the words he'd repeated over and over since his flight from the jungle, Indy slumped against his hotel room door, barely resisting the urge to slam his head against the thick wood. Damn Belloq anyway. Just how had that French bastard known where he was and what he was doing?

He'd held the idol for such a short time, but even still he'd been awed by the sense of antiquity that it radiated. The native god had been a blood-thirsty one, and Indy's blood had almost been added to the pools sacrificed to it - would have been if it hadn't been for Jock and his plane.

And his snake - Reggie. Shuddering at the memory of that damn reptile crawling over his legs, Indy pushed off the door, making sure it was locked before starting toward the bathroom and the promise of a long, hot soak in the tub there. Dirt he could deal with, it was part of his job, one he didn't mind, but the feel of those cold scales slithering over him... The archaeologist shuddered again as chills ran down his spine. Snakes, God he hated them.

Pulling his fedora off his head, Indy slapped the heavy wool against his leg to get rid of the worst of the dust that clung to it, then tossed it onto the coffee table next to the chintz sofa. The suite was all the hotel had had open, but luckily the rates weren't too bad. He'd come out of the stay with a little of the expedition fund left over, if nothing else.

Sighing, Indy shrugged his heavy leather jacket off his shoulders, draping it over the back of a far too dainty looking chair as he trudged into the bathroom. His gun and whip went next to the tub; within easy reach if they were needed, something he prayed wouldn't happen. Clothing that was marked with brown and green streaks from his headlong flight through the jungle was allowed to lie where it fell, he'd send it out for laundering once he was cleaned up or tomorrow, whichever came first.

After turning on the taps, Indy waited until the water was good and hot, then set the plug in the drain. While waiting for the water to rise, he stretched to get the kinks out of his back. The small window set high in the wall, let in the late afternoon sunlight as well as the scent of the ocean and the sounds of the street vendors below. It lent a sense of tranquility to the scene, one that was at odds with the restless churning in Indy's gut.

"Had it in my goddamn hands..."

Muttering to himself, Indy a hand through his sweat and grime streaked hair, wishing he'd thought to grab a bottle of whiskey on his way up here. As distractions went, liquor wasn't the best, but it would have given him something to think of other than what he'd lost.

Settling into the water with a hissed out sigh as the heat hit the multitude of bruises and scrapes he'd acquired at the temple, Indy rested his head against the rim of the tub. He closed his eyes, circulating the water with slow movements of his leg and letting the warmth soak into his bones.

This was going to be one hell of an explanation for Brody; that was for certain. Maybe, just maybe the old man would fork over enough cash to go after Belloq. There were few places that he could auction off the idol, and Indy knew all of them. If he could track it down, it was as good as the museum's again.

If not... Jesus, the last thing was to have to deal with the Board and all their damn questions regarding his techniques. They were happy enough when he brought back whatever find he'd been after, but let something go wrong and they were all over him like hyenas.

In a quick move Indy ducked under the water, shaking his head when he emerged, then shoving his wet hair off his forehead and closing his eyes once again. At least they hadn't controlled the money for this expedition, it had all been a private donation. Even though he was alone, Indy cleared his throat, and felt the back of his neck heat when he thought about just how private the donation had been.

Ramsey, call me Cory, Corwin had breezed in and out of his life in the space of a night, leaving Indy with a satchel-full of greenbacks and a widely expanded view of sexuality in general, and his own wants in desires in particular. Before that night he'd never even considered thinking of another man 'like that', but in the intervening six months, he'd found himself replaying those moments over and over again during the dead of night, stroking himself to orgasm in time to the remembered feel of Cory's talented mouth on him.

How the hell would he explain what had happened to the other man if indeed he ever saw him again? Oh, that expedition you funded? Well, I found what I was looking for, but I let someone else take it, sorry.

Yeah, right. The morose thoughts squelched the burgeoning erection the thoughts of the green-eyed man had brought on, and Indy snarled out a curse. Opening the drain, he let the now less than clean water spiral down the opening, then turned on the water again, lathering up the washcloth with the hotel's harsh soap and scrubbing himself down.

Clean, dry, shaved, and wrapped in the white terry robe the hotel had supplied, Indy picked up his dirty clothes in one hand, grabbed his revolver and whip in the other, and shouldered open the bathroom door. He'd taken two steps into the outer room when all his instincts went on alert. Someone was here.

The clothing dropped to the floor, and Indy trained the revolver on the figure silhouetted in the balcony doors, half-obscured by the gauzy curtains billowing in the ocean breeze.

"I don't have anything to steal, so I'd suggest you get your ass out of here the same way you got in," Indy stated, taking a step toward the intruder.

"Now, now, Professor, I wouldn't say that." The laughing voice was familiar, and Indy blinked several times to prove to himself that he wasn't seeing things when Ramsey Corwin turned from the window, green eyes sparkling with mirth, Indy's battered fedora in his hands.

"Hmm, not much of a welcome." Strolling over to the sofa, the dark-haired man sprawled out on the cushions, twirling Indy's hat on one finger. "Nice hat, looks good. Unlike you, who look like you need a good feeding and a stiff... drink or two." His lips curled upward as color suffused Indy's face at the innuendo in his tone.

Taking a moment to try and gather his scattered thoughts, Indy set the gun on a side table, placing his whip alongside it. "Cory, what are you doing here?" he finally asked. "How did you find out where I was?"

Cory shrugged and tossed the fedora back onto the coffee table. "I have my sources, Dr. Jones. One of them whispered that you'd run into a little trouble on your last trip. Since I had a hand in getting you out here, it was only natural to drop in and see how you were doing."

"But how did you... never mind." Indy sank into the chair he was standing by, and rubbed his temples. "I need a drink, a very large drink." Over the years, he'd learned that sometimes you didn't want to know the answers to certain questions, and this seemed like one of those times.

"What do you think I just suggested?" Cory pushed himself up from the couch, and walked over to Indy, pulling him to his feet and stripping the robe from his body at the same time.

"What are you - I can't anywhere right now, I don't have any clothes," Indy sputtered, fighting the urge to cross his hands in front of his groin, especially when Cory gave him a very blatant once over.

"Wrong." That damn grin was back again, and Indy forced away the memories of how it looked hovering over his erection, all too aware that the other man would notice any reaction on the part of his body - and comment on it.

"Those are the only clothes I have, Corwin," the archaeologist muttered, jerking a thumb toward the stained, wrinkled pile on the floor, "and I'm not putting them back on until they're clean."

It looked as if Cory was going to make another quip, but he restrained himself and slung a companionable arm around Indy's shoulders, leading him toward the bedroom. "No point in that, and they wouldn't fit in where we're going anyway." He nodded toward the clothing laid out on the bed, then grinned. "I had to guess on the sizes, but I have a good eye for those things, so they should fit. Now hurry up, we have reservations in half an hour."

Indy waited until Cory left the room, then shut the door behind him a tad more firmly than the situation called for. "Bastard," he snarled. "Just thinks he can come in here and take over my life? What does he want from me anyway?" Even as he talked to himself, Indy was pulling on the clothes, unconsciously enjoying the feel of the well-crafted linen and silk against his skin, especially after weeks of wearing the same thing and never being quite clean.

The garments were an echo of the ones Cory was wearing, but in different tones. Indy's trousers with their razor sharp pleats were dark brown, and his shirt an off-white, Cory's had been black and white, the contrast appealing next to his dark hair and electric eyes.

"Concentrate, Jones." Shaking his head to clear the wild thoughts, Indy pulled up the suspenders and grabbed the suit jacket, pausing only to step into the highly polished shoes before squaring his shoulders and crossing back into the sitting room.

"Ha. Told you I had an eye for size." Cory tossed Indy his hat, then settled one on his own head, before opening the door. "After you, Professor."

Indy contemplated grabbing his gun or whip, but he doubted either would provide him with any protection from the man beside him. "I've got a bad feeling about this," he sighed to himself before heading out of the suite, Cory at his side.

Amber-colored liquor revolved in the large-bowled glass as Cory swirled his brandy, then held it up to catch the last rays of the setting sun. "So this guy Belloq and his herd of natives had you dead to sights, and you gave up the idol?"

Indy nodded, keeping his gaze on the red-tinted waves stretching out toward the horizon, waiting for the condemnation. It wasn't anything he hadn't heard before, from his father, to his department head at the university, to the museum's Board, but somehow hearing it from Cory felt like it was going to hurt more.

"And then chased you to your plane, trying to kill you..."

Cory fell silent, and Indy shot a wary glance at the other man, unable to tell what he was thinking from his expression.

"Damn, wish I'd been there. Nothing turns me on like a good chase." Cory turned in his rattan chair, and, after catching sight of Indy's incredulous expression, laughed. "Come on, Professor, what were you expecting me to say? That you should have found a way to save the idol? That you should have died before handing it over? I think you're a little more valuable than some old hunk of gold, no matter who worshipped it."

"Jesus." Indy slugged back the rest of his brandy, then set the snifter on the low table between their chairs. "Do you deliberately try to confuse me, Cory? I have no idea how you're going to react to anything I do or say!"

"Me? I'm an open book, Indiana. I take whatever life throws at me and try to make the best of it. It's the only way I know how to survive and it generally works. As for reacting to you," his eyes turned a smoky green and his smile became sensual, "there's always one way I react to you, and you know it."

Indy reached for his glass again, and cursed when he remembered it was empty.

"Easy, Professor. I'm not going to jump you out here in the open, I think that would shock our compadres back inside the restaurant as well as the mamacitas and their bambinos on their way home. I do have plans for you when we get back to your room - but only if you're interested.

Only if he was interested? Indy bit back a harsh laugh as his cock hardened, answering the question in a definitive, if silent, manner. Determined to match the other man's nonchalance, Indy leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and glanced over at Cory. "Well, if that's the case, I'd suggest you finish your drink so that we can get out of here."

Cory's answering smile was infectious, and the speed with which he tossed back the remainder of his brandy had Indy laughing, something he realized he hadn't done since this whole debacle began.

They settled the bill with the proprietor, and strolled back up the boulevard, taking their time, but aware of the undercurrent simmering between them. Though normally a patient man when he had to be, Indy was practically twitching with nerves by the time they reached the top of the stairs and turned down the corridor toward his room. Of course the way that Cory kept 'accidentally' brushing him against him as they climbed, hadn't done anything to help the situation either. He'd refused to look at the other man, knowing for a fact that if he did, he'd see a teasing smirk lighting his features.

But while Indy didn't look, he did plan. The last time they had been together, Cory had been the aggressor, the leader. Now Indy was determined to prove that he was no slouch when it came to that role either. He opened the door, and ushered Cory inside, catching the other man and spinning him around the moment the door was closed. Pulling Cory in closer, Indy closed his lips over Cory's, feeling a kind of sensory déjà vu that sent his mind careening back to the night of the benefit before being dragged back to the present by the subtle differences of Cory's taste. There were hints of the brandy they'd shared, as well as flashes of hot peppers from their meal, but on the whole, it was the same heady flavor he'd enjoyed before.

Their hats hit the floor, and Indy heard a low, distinct, purr from the other man's throat when their lips parted. "Mmm, Professor, think I like the demanding side of you. We going to go for it out here, or do you want to take this into the bedroom?"

Cory's hands closed over his ass, and Indy arched forward into the other man's fit body, his erection rubbing against Cory's through the cloth of their trousers. "Bedroom, now," Indy rasped, smacking Cory's backside when the other man backed away before turning, laughing, to saunter into the other room.

Once he'd caught up to Cory, Indy spun him around again, tugging at the dark-haired man's jacket and tossing it aside, followed closely by his own. Their suspenders were easily dealt with, as were the buttons on their shirts, but Indy had to give up feasting on Cory's mouth so that they could pull their shirts and undershirts off.

Cory purred again, and ran his hands over Indy's chest, lingering over the darkened skin that marked the places he'd been injured while in the jungle. "Will have to do something about this," he murmured cryptically, before slipping his hands lower, to cover the bulge in Indy's trousers. "And this as well."

"Oh no, this time I'm first." Indy knew that if he stopped and let Cory take control, he'd never get it back again. Stripping the other man out of his pants and shoes, he urged Cory back to the bed, taking the bare minimum of time to pull off the rest of his clothes before joining him, lying half-atop his benefactor.

"Well, Professor? What ya gonna do?"

"Find a way to keep you quiet." With that, Indy kissed Cory hard, then slowly began inching down his body, closing his eyes and letting his senses guide him in the ways to bring the other man pleasure. Cory's moans and breathless whispers of encouragement were music to his ears, and this time, when he was level with the other man's erection, Indy didn't hesitate.

Raising his eyes to meet Cory's, the archaeologist flicked out his tongue, tasting another man for the first time. Cory gave a quiet moan and lifted his hips encouragingly, so Indy repeated the movement, then varied it, working his way down the heavy shaft, then back up again, fascinated by the contrast of satiny skin and hard flesh.

Cory's fingers threaded through his hair, but after an initial tightening, only rested there, spasming slightly as Indy experimented and learned. "Mmm, I've got a good feeling about this," Indy chuckled, breathing the words out over Cory's erection, watching the clear bead of fluid form at the tip before licking it away.

Remembering vividly what Cory had done to him before, Indy raised one hand and rubbed his thumb over the other man's nipple, eliciting another groan and a fresh burst of precome. Shifting enough to get his other hand between them, he stroked Cory's balls, feeling them tighten and draw up in their sack as he started sucking on the head of his cock.

"Jesus, Professor - don't - hang on - want you to - God - fuck me."

Indy looked up sharply at that, not quite believing what he thought he'd heard. Cory's shaky grin, however, told him that he had, and that the other man was laughing inside over shocking him again. Well, maybe he could shock Mr. Ramsey Corwin right back. After their last time together, Indy had done some research - on a purely hypothetical basis of course - and he knew more or less, exactly what Cory wanted.

It couldn't be that different from making love to a woman, could it? Just well, different.

"You have anything we can use as lubricant?" Indy asked, and was rewarded by a definite widening of Cory's eyes before he burst into laughter.

"Well, well, well, Professor," Cory finally managed to get out, after pulling Indy up for a kiss and wrapping his legs around the archaeologist's waist, "I see you've been studying up on things. Now comes test time, though. Check my jacket pocket."

Hazel eyes darkening to gold in frustration at the delay, Indy lowered his mouth to Cory's neck, latching onto the thin skin there and sucking hard enough to leave a dark red mark. "Stay right here," he rasped, sitting back to admire his handiwork, then rolling off the bed and going in search of Cory's jacket.

He found the small tube of petroleum jelly in the inner pocket, and moved back to the bed, transfixed for the moment by the sweep of Cory's hands over his own body. The man was beautiful; that was the only way Indy could think to describe him. Beautiful and as uninhibited as some ancient nymph or satyr. For a moment Indy felt a pang of jealousy, wondering how many others there were who felt this way about Cory, but he pushed the emotion aside. Cory was his for the moment, there was no point in thinking of wanting more.

Crawling back onto the bed between the other man's out-flung legs, Indy knocked Cory's hands away from his erection, chuckling at the growl that earned him. "Just tell me if I hurt you, all right?" he murmured, his expression turning serious until Cory nodded his agreement. There was a light in the other man's eyes that told Indy that he found the question somehow humorous, but he didn't want to ask why that was.

Spreading the thick jelly on his finger, Indiana rested his other hand on Cory's hip and pressed it slowly against the tight muscle of his anus. Tight, sucking heat enfolded his digit, and Cory's husky moans urged him on. Once his finger was in as far as possible, Indy risked a glance up at Cory, finding himself smiling at the other man's needy expression.

"You tell me you're going to stop there and you're not going to like the consequences." "You mean you want me to do this?" Indy questioned innocently, rubbing his finger back and forth inside Cory, feeling the way ease with every pass. Pulling back, he added more grease, then pressed two fingers inside, waiting until they were moving easily before crooking them, searching for something...

Cory shouted out a word in a language that Indy wasn't familiar with, and the archaeologist grinned. Research was a good thing, though he doubted he'd ever be able to use this example in any of his lectures.

"Enough playing, Jones, I want you in me now" Cory locked a hand around Indy's bicep and pulled, over-balancing him and sending him sprawling across Cory's stomach and chest.

"Anyone ever tell you that you're a greedy man, Ramsey Corwin?" Indy asked, managing to extricate himself from the other man's clinging arms and legs long enough to smear some of the jelly over his erection.

"More times then you could believe," Cory chuckled, letting out a pleasured sigh when Indy entered him, pressing inward until he was fully sheathed in his body.

"God, so damn..." Indy's voice trailed off into a moan as he was surrounded by the tightest, hottest space he had ever felt. It was outside his realm of experience, so far outside that he had no way to describe it, he could only feel, and, by doing so, give in to the dictates of his body by moving, plunging time and again into space.

Cory rose to meet each thrust, pulling Indy down into a kiss and dragging his hand to his cock, biting at Indy's lip in appreciation of their joining. Even if Indy had tried to deny what he was doing, to pretend that it was a woman under him, the feel of that hard, smooth erection in his hand would have blown the fantasy away, but it was Cory, this was what he'd been thinking of, perhaps unwillingly, since that night six months ago.

He shifted the angle of his thrusts slightly, feeling the head of his cock rake over a soft bump within the other man's body, then the muscles surrounding him contracted, squeezing him even tighter than before. "Cory, God, am going to..."

"Do it."

Cory's quiet words and the writhing of his body accompanied a fresh round of contractions and Indy felt the hot splash of the other man's seed against his belly as he came, filling the other man with the hot essence of his seed, then collapsing on top of him, physically and emotionally spent.

The last thing Indy heard before surrendering to his need for sleep, was Cory's soft chuckle. "You did good, Professor."

With a sigh of contentment, Indy rolled over and stretched. Three days he'd been here. Three days in the company of a man who made him as hot and bothered as he'd ever been when a teenager. Three days of the wildest sex he'd ever imagined. He'd had Cory more times than he could count, and, while he'd backed off at the idea of letting the other man take him, it was an idea that Indy was pondering more and more. Maybe tonight...

Pushing the vague sense of guilt that he should be back at work, Indy sat up and rolled his shoulders. "Cory? You out there?" The other man was always up before he was, and usually could be found lounging on the balcony without a stitch of clothing, enjoying his morning coffee. Somehow, whenever Indy found him that way, the coffee was always cold before they got to it.

"I had the strangest dream last night..." Grabbing his robe, Indy pulled it on, stepping over the piles of clothing they'd left on the floor the night before. Strange wasn't quite the word for the dream; disturbing actually fit it better. In it, he'd seen Cory standing over him, a sad smile on his face. His shirt was torn and covered in blood - so much blood.

For some reason, he hadn't been able to move, even when the dream Cory had reached out to stroke his face, then turned and walked out of the room. As he recalled it, a sense of unease stole over Indiana.

"Cory?" The word echoed back from the silent rooms and Indy cursed, knowing that Cory was gone once again. His gaze dropped to the floor and he frowned, then knelt down, staring at the faint stains on the wood. It was blood; it had to be. Peering intently at the patterns, Indy followed them from the outer door to the bedroom and back. On the return trip, they seemed lighter, as if the wound causing them had been bandaged or was closing up.

A search of the rooms revealed that all of Cory's clothes were gone and Indy sank disconsolately into a chair. "Jesus, Cory, what are you mixed up in and was it that bad that you couldn't even say good-bye?"

Doubting that he'd ever know the answers to his questions, Indy stood and crossed back to the bedroom. Pulling on his old clothes, he took a final look around, then slid his gun in its holster and attached his whip to his belt. He settled his leather jacket over his shoulders and pulled his fedora low on his brow, hoping the shadow would hide his eyes.

Picking up his satchel, Indy started out of the room, when an unaccustomed weight in the bad caught his attention. Setting the heavy canvas bag on the table, he looked through his belongings, finding only things he knew should be there until he reached the bottom of the pouch.

Whatever the cloth-wrapped item was, it was heavy for its size. Knowing that it had to be from Cory, Indy set the bag aside on the floor, then carefully unwrapped the fabric from the object inside of it. He saw flecks of dark red on the white cloth and swallowed, knowing just where they came from.

"Damnit, Cory, I don't want a parting gift, I want..." Indy's breath whooshed out of his lungs as he removed the last layer of cloth and the burnished gold of the statue within it caught the light and glowed. It couldn't be. But it was; the same squat, dour looking idol he'd almost died for in the jungle.

"How..." He ran his fingers over the burnished metal, feeling them tremble slightly as he did so. There would be no answers to that question, he knew that. but when he picked up the idol, using as much care as he had when removing it from the alter, he noticed a small piece of paper that had been hidden under it.

"More notes." Ignoring the way his voice cracked, Indy set the idol aside and picked up the folded square, unfolding and straightening it before looking at the bold handwriting.


I found something that you'd lost. Sorry I couldn't stay longer, but some things came up and, well, it's better if I go.

Never fear; I will see you again, you have my word on that.


"Bastard," Indy sighed, crumpling the note in his fist, then refolding it and placing it in the inner lining of his jacket. "You'd damn well better keep your word."

Re-wrapping the idol, and stowing it in his bag, Indy allowed himself a final glance back toward the shadowed bedroom before leaving the suite, in search of a plane to charter back to the States.


  since 02-04-07


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