9 comments/ 12423 views/ 14 favorites Idiots By: lessthanperfect There is no explicit sex in this one. Just a story. If that disappoints you then find the back button. ***** Nine times out of ten, if I'm in the emergency room at two o clock in the morning it's because someone is a jackass. Either a jackass caused it or the person there is a jackass. Either way, it's enough to drive a sane man into a rage after a certain point. The worst part is, I have to empathize with them. If I look at them and say, "God you're stupid. Did you really stick you dick in a toaster?" suddenly I'm a bad person. Fuck that. Some people are morons. Even the decent people treat me like shit. Why? Because some jackass put them in the hospital emergency room at two o clock in the fucking morning. They don't want to answer questions no more than I want to ask them. I didn't sign up for this. I wanted to snap one liners and look cool in sunglasses. Not get yelled at by an otherwise nice lady for doing my job while my partner makes a 'quick five minute' call for the fiftieth time tonight. Fuck I want a cigarette. "Can't you people just leave me alone? I told you I don't want to press charges." Yes ma'am, I heard you the first hundred times. At least you didn't yell in my ear this time. "Ma'am, you know he's just going to do this again. If you press charges then you start a paper trail. He may not spend more than a night in jail this time, but the next time he will go away for years, and we both know there will be a next time as I already stated." "Oh yeah, and what do you know!" I tried my best not to give her a look that conveyed exactly what I was feeling. When she immediately rolled her eyes and looked away, I knew I had failed. But what do I know? I've just been doing this for five years. No way could I have seen this story play out before. Nuh uh, she's special. "Ma'am, I know you love this guy, but-" "But nothing! He pays all the bills! I haven't worked since the first kid was born! If you think I'm leaving my kids you're crazy!" She put her face in her hands and held her head, a couple sobs creeping out. Half her face was fucking purple. I'm sure she fell down the stairs. That last step is always a bitch. "Honestly, he's not that bad most of the time. I appreciate your concern but I will be fine... Can someone drive me home?" I could barely hear her from behind her hands. Hospitals are loud. "Yes Mrs. Johnson, though I wish you'd reconsider." She started to say something else. I'd heard enough. I handed her my business card. "Take this; keep it somewhere where he can't find it. If you need anything you just call, understand?" she nodded "Good. I'll go make sure the doc's through with you and have him print your prescription." "Thank you Officer Macintyre. I know you just want to help. I will be fine." She looked like she was trying to convince herself as much as me. "Yes ma'am." I looked up at the sliding glass doors which led outside before turning to the nurse's station. Fucking Martin was still on his phone underneath a streetlight. I don't care if his wife is pregnant and their eighteen month old has the colic, calling him at work aint gone fix a damn thing. Here's a hint Martin: don't fuck her so much. That or wear a condom. Five is enough. They breed like bunnies, I swear to go— "Can I help you?" She looked like she wanted to do anything but. It's a wonder that chair hadn't broke by now. This woman occupied half the nurses station alone, both in size and duty. Hooray for budget cuts. I could only spot two other nurses. One answered phones while the other handed clipboards off to doctors and other nurses as they passed by. "Can I talk the doc who treated Mrs. Johnson?" "You mean the lady who's her own color now?" "I think the color is purple actually, with hints of yellow." She didn't look impressed. "That poor lady don't know how bad he is does she." "I tried to get her to press charges but—" "She won't. Sugar, I done seen this play acted out a thousand times. Always ends the same." She shook her head while reading a clipboard. "I'll page Dr. Schwartz. He'll come around as soon as he's finished with the guy in room 342." "What'd he do?" She snorted before answering. "The crazy fool streaked across the backyards in some fancy pantsy suburban housewife's wet dream of a neighborhood on some stupid fraternity initiation. Somebody's dog happened to be awake enough to damn near bite his dick off." The image alone made cringe to the point my neck popped. "That was my reaction, and I'm a woman believe it or not." We both chuckled "What's the prognosis?" "He's going to lose his right testicle, along with some stitches in other areas." Came a voice from over my shoulder. I braced myself as quick as I could before I turned around. I have to. The man is sex on legs and he doesn't know it. Five years of coming in and out of this god forsaken place. Five fucking years. Never have I seen anybody who caught my attention quite like he had. He just took a job here about three months ago, and I've been in full on crush mode ever since. The annoying thing is, I don't know why. He's not unusually hot. He's sorta got that nerdy yet wiry look to him. He's too short for my usual tastes. I've never really had a thing for blondes before. His face must be too skinny as well, or he just refuses to buy glasses that won't fall off. I've dated, fucked, and dumped hotter guys. He just had 'it'. I'm so sick of 'it' I could fucking kill someone with a spoon. Try and try and fucking try, I cannot figure out just what 'it' is, but 'it' is a god damn nightmare. Doesn't mean I'll stop trying though. "What's up doc?" I said as I turned around. "Cute, Macduff." "It's Macintyre." The corner of his mouth curled ever so slightly. "I know. Follow me." He waved a hand as he turned around. "See you later Denise!" I waved back. "Night Sugar, be safe!" "Baby, I thought you knew me better than that." She was still laughing as we turned the corner. The doc waited until we got in the elevator before he started talking. "She doesn't have any fractures or broken bones. The bruising will hurt for some time though so I've prescribed a mild painkiller she can get at any pharmacy. Other than that there's nothing more I can do. Is she pressing charges?" He stayed facing the doors, but turned his head to look up at me. "No. she says he's a nice man." His head dropped, his eyes intent on the floor. That or his shoes. He did have on nice shoes. Or maybe he was looking at my shoes— "Nice men don't hit their wives." He mumbled. "No, they don't. Nice women just cover for the shit men in their life." "Very true." We both remained silent until the elevator opened up on the ground floor. I let him go ahead of me, amusing myself by watching his ass twitch in front of me. A man has to find his pleasure where he can. Twelve hour shifts don't provide for a social life. We stopped at the double doors to the waiting room. "I had Mrs. Johnson taken out front. She should be with your partner." "Thanks doc. At least Martin has to get off that damn phone now." "It was good to see you Officer Mac—" "Please, call me Alex or Cal." "Cal?" He smiled in a way that said he thought I was stupid. Normally I'd be annoyed. It looked good on him though. "My middle name is Caliban." "Caliban? That's a new one." He laughed. "The South is famous for stupid names. I'm just happy I didn't get stuck with Rufus." He laughed even harder while shaking his head. "I'd say you were fortunate. Anyway, I have to get back to work. Have a safe rest of the night Cal." "You too—" I motioned with my hand for him to answer my obvious question. "Adrian." "So long Adrian. I'll see you." "I'm sure you will." - People are stupid. When I was younger I had thought different. I was naive. I guess that makes me stupid too. Either way, it still shocks me sometimes how stupid people can be. "Sir, how exactly did you manage to do this?" Martin looked as perplexed as I did. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." The man explained. "I'm sure it did." I wasn't so sure. "Look, can somebody just help me already! I've been here forever!" "Give us a minute to think real quick sir." Martin is famous for his 'real quicks.' "How the fuck do you think he managed this?" "I haven't the slightest idea." He said. "Should we call the fire department?" "Maybe. Hell, I don't know. This wasn't covered at the academy." "Fuck it. Let's try and get him out ourselves first." We both stood outside for a moment and pondered the situation presented to us. Again, people are stupid. We had just come back into service when we received a call about a man stuck in a window. We figured some dumb ass fucked up a home invasion by trying to get in one of those real small bathroom windows. Nope. We show up to a man who easily weighed four hundred pounds hanging half in, half out his living room window. Apparently, he lost his keys so he just figured he'd climb through. He must've forgotten to tell his lower half about the plan. "How about I go inside and push while you stay out here and pull?" Martin suggested. "How about you go fuck yourself. I'm not going to be anywhere behind King Kong Bundy should, by some miracle, he come flying outa there." "Look, that's about the only option I see here." "Why don't you pull and I'll push?" "I have kids!" He through his hands in the air. "I have looks!" "God damn it Alex, I'm the fucking corporal here, now fucking get in position while I find a way inside." "Shit..." I mumbled as Martin walked away. God I hope he stays stuck and we can call the fire department. The ladder monkeys are used to this sorta thing. "Officer?" "Yeah, whatcha need?" "Can you scratch my knee? It's been bugging me for a while now." "Jesus Christ..." I rubbed the bridge of my nose while I thought about where my life had gone wrong. Fucking Law and Order. I wanted to be Jerry Briscoe. Not some jackass stuck prying manatees out of windows. Think happy thoughts Alex. Happy thoughts. The Doc and I had been talking a lot more since Rebecca Johnson's little 'stair' incident. We seemed to at least be good acquaintances if not small time friends. I kept wondering if he was gay. Hand to god, the little twink didn't give shit away. I was tempted to just ask him out and be done with it. Still, I couldn't do that. If he said no things would be awkward every time I went in the ER, which was way too often. Denise would never stop giving me shit either. Two months is a long time to dance around someone though. Add that on to the three months before we actually started talking to each other and this shit starts to get a bit ridiculous. I seemed to talk to him every single time I had to interview some dumb shit who lost a tooth or broke his nose in a bar fight. At least I hadn't seen Rebecca since then. She had called me about two weeks after the incident to tell me she was fine and that Bobby was doing better. I wanted to believe her. You can't though. You fucking can't. At least she hadn't been back in the ER. She was a nice woman. Stupid, yes, but nice. The front door opened. Martin stood there with his hands on his hips like he thought he was Superman. "TAA-DA!!" "How'd you get in, oh great one?" "The window on the side was unlocked too." "Don't you know anything about window locks, buddy" Martin asked the man. "I like fresh air. Locking and unlocking gets annoying after a while." He responded meekly. Martin just shook his head. "Alright Alex, let's get this over with." "If I die, you're going to be my one and only paul bearer. I'll be sure to request the heaviest casket available." "I'll rent a forklift, now stop bitching." I grabbed both ankles. This was going to suck. "On my count! Three, two, one, PULL!" I tried. Really, I did! This guy was in there tighter than a pickle jar lid. "That... was a massive failure." I said "I have the feeling everything is massive when it comes to this guy." "When he hauls ass, he has to make two trips. What'd you expect?" "GUYS!! I'm right here!" "That much is for damn sure." I muttered low enough for Martin to hear. "I'm going to call the fire department. They'll have to cut him out." "Great..." Calling the fire department meant we would have to wait for them. Since it wasn't an emergency, we both knew they were going to take their sweet time. "Hang tight man, the fire department is on their way." I didn't wait for a response, turning instead to go sit with Martin in the car. We shot the breeze for an hour, waiting for the boys in red to finish sliding down their pole. Thank god for car heaters. Just because it's October doesn't mean it's not cold enough to be uncomfortable. "Hope they didn't bring Spot the fire engine dog or that guys ass is going to be in some real danger." "I don't think a dog would go near that, no matter how desperate." I said. "What's going on fellas?" asked the head fireman. "King of the buffet managed to get stuck in his window." "I'm surprised he managed to get in the window in the first place." He said "Yeah well..." "Alright boys, let's get to it." We were stuck there for two hours waiting for them to finish cutting him out. Two hours of having to listen to Martin talk on the damn phone with his wife and explain why he didn't know the difference between the health benefits of formula or breast milk. After being yelled at for a bit, he told her we had a call and hung up. "Son of a bitch Alex, never marry a redhead. They're fucking nuts." He wiped a hand across his forehead. "Prefer blondes." "No you don't, you just prefer that little doctor. Don't lie to me." He warned when I started to interrupt. "Lord knows every time we go there you find a reason to talk to him. Thought your eyes were going to fall out last time. Startin' to get embarrassing, I say." "Only when you bring it up shithead." "You want me to ask him out for you?" "NO!!" I damned near jumped over the computer between our seats. "I swear to god Davis, I will leave your children orphans if you do that." "Well then do something about it. You've never been this way before." "This guy's different." "How?" "He's got 'it.'" "Gonorrhea?" "What, NO! What the fuck is wrong with you!" "Then what is 'it?'" He made air quotes with his hands. "I don't know." I muttered. "Well you better figure 'it' out. You're starting to drive me nuts." After the Dalmatian fuckers finally got the blue whale off the beach, we got a call to Rebecca's house. We were being requested since we had handled her case the first time. Another unit was already on scene. When we arrived, a few cars had made a barrier around the Johnson's driveway, which lead up to their little suburban home. It looked like all the other homes around, minus the police tape. We hadn't been told much over the radio. I started to ask one of the guys what the deal was when I saw it. A black bag being rolled out on a stretcher is never a good thing. Never. I don't remember much else. I interviewed the kids who were old enough to answer questions. I can remember the oldest girl looked like she had seen the world end and didn't know how to act in response. I couldn't say anything in condolence other than I'm sorry. The girl just nodded. Her name was Becky. I didn't have to go to the hospital. I really had no reason to. Still, something inside made me have to see the body to be sure. I'm a masochist I suppose. The son of a bitch had beat her head in with a lamp. A fucking lamp, in front of his own kids. According to them, she had apparently overcooked his chicken. An appropriate response it would seem. Jackasses. "You alright?" I jerked my head to the right, then back down again. "I'm fine." "No you're not." "Hey, look at me." He said, with a hand on my shoulder. I was curled up with my back against the wall. I don't know how long I'd been there. Don't have a clue when I started crying. I shook my head. "Denise said you were down here earlier. No one had seen you leave." "Very observant of them." "You're hard to miss." "Why couldn't she just listen to me?" "She loved him." "WHY! He was a shithead!" The only good that came from this, even remotely, was Mr. Johnson was shot to death resisting arrest. He stabbed an officer I went to the academy with. Ramirez got a few stitches and a lollipop. "Sometimes the ones you love the most hurt you the most." I looked up at him. I wanted to yell he was fucking stupid, that it shouldn't be that way, and that I would never do that to someone I loved. It was pointless. None of it would change anything. Rebecca would still be dead. Four children would still be orphans. Fat fucks would still get stuck in windows. Nothing changes. "Are you off?" "Yeah" I checked my phone. Eight a.m. "I've been off for two hours." "I'll take you home. You're in no shape to drive." He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. His strength surprised me a little. I guess he packed a lot in the little amount of space he had. He walked me to the employee side of the parking garage till we reached a silver Dodge Durango. Not my favorite car. Can't say I cared at this point. The morning sun was shining bright in our eyes as I gave directions to my apartment. It was Thursday. I was off till Saturday night. He walked me to my door. I asked if he wanted coffee. He said sure. I tried to fill the cups. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. He got off the couch and told me to sit while he poured. At least he drank his. I mostly just stared at mine. I couldn't get over how pointless it all seemed. A woman dead over a burnt fucking chicken. I bet it wasn't even burnt. I would've have ate it. I've cooked worse for myself. "Hey none of that." He held me. I should be ecstatic. Adrian is in my apartment and holding me. Not quite how I envisioned it. Couldn't stop though. Once the tears started, they wouldn't stop. I was shaking like I was going through detox. "Come on, up we go." He said as he pulled me up. He shuffled me to my bed, pushing me down till I sat on the edge. He undid my shoes, pulled off my socks, my coat, shirt. He hesitated when he came to my gun belt. I should help him. I couldn't. I helped before. That went well. He eventually realized I was useless. He should just go. Nope. He undid both belts, setting my pistol on the nightstand beside the bed, dumping the mag and clearing the chamber first. Then came my work pants until I was sitting in nothing more than my boxer-briefs. I didn't want to lay down. I didn't want to do anything. The covers were pulled over me. He kissed the side of my forehead. "It'll be okay." I doubt it. - He's an idiot. Maybe a bigger one than myself. I could see his glasses on the table next to the couch. I live in a closet. The bed isn't more than five feet from the couch. The kitchen, ten feet. Maybe I exaggerate. I never was good at judging distance. I still felt numb. I feel numb. That's stupid. How can you feel numb? Numbness is the absence of feeling, so how can you feel it. It's three o clock. We slept about six hours. That's a lot for me. Never needed too much. He still hasn't moved. I made him a couple of eggs and some bacon. Toast is a little too burnt. The lamp seemed to taunt me. Hopefully Adrian doesn't get any ideas. Or maybe he should. I really do suck at cooking. "It's not polite to stare." He said without opening his eyes. "Neither is it to not eat when someone cooks for you. Come get it, or do you want to eat over there?" Over there wasn't that far. He moved his hand in a come hither motion. He grabbed my wrist when I set the plate on the coffee table. Maybe he wants coffee. It would make the table feel worthy of it's name. He stared into my eyes. Idiots Ch. 02 I got bored again. This is the unplanned addition to what was supposed to be a one off. There is one more chapter after this one, which will contain a sex scene for all you horny people. Enjoy. Comments are appreciated. **** "So..." "Martin, don't start this early in the morning." "It's 01:00. We've been on shift for seven hours." "It's technically tomorrow." "In my book, it ain't tomorrow till the sun comes up again." "Maybe that's why the Lieutenant is always bitching about your reports." "Enough about me." He said, taking a hand off the wheel to point at me. "We were talking about you." "No WE weren't." "Spill you bastard! It's been a month. Surely we have some progress to report." "Your wife's asking about me again, ain't she?" "She means well." "I'm not dating her niece!" "I'm not asking you to. I like Miranda too much to put her through that." "I'll tase you and say it was an accident." "Well, if I say that you're in a committed relationship, maybe she'll leave me alone about it." "Oh come off it! You want to know just as much as she does." Martin gave me a strange look out the corner of his eye, almost like someone who looks at a skinny puppy. I didn't like it at all. "Look Cal, there are people around here who want you to be happy. How long have we been partners?" "Three years." "Ding, ding, ding! Wouldn't you know who won the pony?" "Shut up." I said with a small chuckle, which is more than he deserved out of me. "That's three years of making my wife worry because the department stuck me with an idiot." I threw a Taco Bell napkin from the floorboard at him, he smacked it away without much thought. "Three years of babysitting on my part. Dare I say, I actually care for my little Fish." Fish is the generic name for the new guy. I'm not new anymore! There have been five academy classes since I came on, four since I finished my probation period. Martin and I had originally been paired together after he had been demoted from sergeant for getting a little rough with a suspect. According to Martin, the guy tried to kick him in the nuts. According to the department, a broken nose was a bit much. Martin can be described as hard-nosed, arrogant, maybe even self-centered at first. That's all by people who don't know him though. After three years, I can honestly say Martin is a good cop and a better man than I. Still a proper asshole when he wants to be though. "If you keep up this lovey dovey shit, I'm going to have to warn Adrian." "AH-HA!" He shouted, one finger pointed in the air while his other hand turned us onto a street with a few bars. It was Friday night. DWI patrol is rarely fun, though it is often entertaining. Trust me when I say that there most certainly is a distinction. "So the boy would only be allowed to be jealous if he were dating you, correct?" "That would be correct..." I mumbled. "Pay the man." He held a hand out, palm up." Shifting slightly in my seat, I pulled out my wallet and smacked a twenty in Martin's hand. "Fucker." "Don't make bets with the master young blood." "Oh please, it took you six months to figure out I was gay in the first place. Don't sit here and act like you're some sort of relationship god." "Hey, I defy someone to pull information out of you without pulling teeth out as well." "Not everyone needs to know my business. I didn't know if we would even be partnered for that long to begin with." "Like that mattered. You just have trust issues my friend." "I'm a friend now? Is that right Dr. Phil?" "Nobody likes a smartass." "Adrian likes my ass just fine, thank you." Martin's head fell back laughing. "Oh shit..." He trailed off, a tear escaping his eye as he came down from his laughing spell. "You gonna live?" "I'm fine. Damn, I wasn't ready for that. I can't picture his scrawny ass fucking you." He started laughing again. "Why are you trying to in the first place?" "I can imagine whatever I damn well please." He stuck his nose up, like some god damn British queen. "What are you, like 6'1?" "6'2." I said. "And he's 5'8 if, I repeat IF, he is lucky." "5'7." I mumbled. "Exactly. How does that even work? Do you have a real short bed, and he just stands by the edge? Of course that just leaves doggy style as your go to, which is fine-" "Jesus Christ on a crutch, we have no trouble fucking Martin!" "I think it's called jet packing." "How do you even know that term?" "Research." "What kind of research have you been doing?" "The scientific kind- check that guy out." He pointed a finger over the dashboard to a dark green car in front of us. The car crossed into the oncoming lane twice in the short time we'd been watching it. "Drunkie?" I asked. "What do you think?" "Lighting him up." With a quick hand movement, I flipped the lights on and gave the siren a few quick bursts. While Martin entered the license plate into the computer, I reported our location to dispatch, as well as keeping a close eye on the suspect's movements in the car. "He's stashing something." I said. "Don't they always?" "Anything coming back?" "Nope, clean as a whistle. Let's just hope Mr. Shoemaker is the one driving." We stepped out of the car at the same time, Martin going to the driver's door while I took the passenger side. You ever smell pot before? Surely you have. Everyone has. For god's sake, it's been a long ass time since the summer of love. The smell is extremely distinct. I knew it well enough when I was in my teens. Since joining the force, I could spot its smell from a mile away. Maybe I should become a drug dog... "License and registration." Martin belted out the usual line. I counted the number of people we had on our hands. There was a grand total of five contestants competing in tonight's competition. They looked like college kids, taking daddy's Buick out for a spin. Their clothes were nice, though not too upscale. The one sitting between his two buddies in the back, the one with the green hair, seemed about to shit himself. Martin met my eyes over the roof. 'Weed.' I mouthed and pinched my nose. He nodded once. I knew Martin didn't smell it. An elephant could shit on his shoes and he'd never notice. The man has no sense of smell. "Do you know why I pulled you over tonight?" "Uh... no sir. Do I have a tail light out?" I chuckled to myself. That is the number one line we hear when someone wants to act innocent. "Do you have a tail light out Mr..." Martin looked down at the kid's license. "Shoemaker?" "Uh no- no sir, I was just curious myself, you see." "I see. Whose car is this?" "My father's sir." "Alright, well ya'll sit tight for a minute while we run this." The kids all swallowed hard as we walked back. They were all underage if my guess was right. Our eyes met again on the way. Martin gave an extremely contorted look that said, 'Who do these idiots think they're fooling.' Conversation started the second our doors closed. "The driver is high as a kite." Martin said. "The kid in the back, sitting in the middle-" "Green hair?" "That's the one. If he doesn't have something on him, I'll eat my hat." We were quiet while Martin ran the kid's license. I checked my phone, noting that Adrian had texted me. "Tell blondie I said hi." Martin said without looking up. "Fuck off." It was just a simple, 'I get off at 6, you?' I texted back that I was off at six, but had to sign out and stow my equipment, take a shower, all the usual. I'd be ready by seven if he wanted to meet me at the department, or I'd pick him up at his place. 'I'll see you at the precinct. No shower ;)' "That's some kinky shit." I could feel his breath on my neck suddenly. "Eyes on your own paper." I pushed him back to his side of the car. He laughed so hard he was shaking the car a bit. "Someone likes the smell of man in the morning." "Better than the smell of fish." "Hey, that was told to you in confidence." "And I reserve the right to use it however I like when it's just us." "Asshole..." He muttered. "How we doing this." "You tell me Fish." "I'm not a rookie Martin." "Then take the lead. I'm not going to be around to watch your forever you know." "So now you're watching my ass?" "Oh yes." He waved a hand to cool himself down. "Sometimes I just want to dive across this computer and pin you against the window, just go on to town!" He finished with a pathetic pelvic thrust in his seat. "You're insane!" We were laughing as we got out. If the kids heard us, I'm sure it freaked them out all the more so. Martin and I swapped which side of the car we took. The kid looked extremely confused to see me at the window instead of the dumb ass who was now at the passenger window. "What happened to the other guy?" He stammered. "He's over there now." The kid's head snapped to the right. I tapped on the roof and his head snapped back to me. I started thinking of those Old Spice commercials. Back to you. Now back to me. This kid was definitely on something besides alcohol. "Take your keys out of the car sir and step out here for me." "But sir, I didn't do anything." "I didn't say you did. Just do what I ask please." He unbuckled his seatbelt slowly. I've seen people in the drunk tank shake less than this guy. "Let's walk back here." I said when he stood up out the car. He was a little shorter than myself, though taller than Adrian. Damn it. I keep doing that, comparing everything to him. It's becoming more and more frequent in recent weeks. His hair was a dark brown, kinda square headed, maybe one hundred thirty soaking wet with a brick in each pocket. It wouldn't take a lot of something illicit to cause this kid to OD on the street. "Alright bud, let's be honest here." We were standing in front of the cruiser now. "You know and I know that you've got something floating around in your system." "Officer-" "Your pupils are wider than a dog's eyes at the supper table kid. Look, all I want to know this very moment is if you're going to OD on me, which judging by the way you're sweating is a real possibility. So, how much and what did you take?" "Sir, I don't want to go to jail." "Kid, you're going to jail. That's a given. I don't need to test you to know that you're DWI, but they most certainly will at the precinct. I just don't want you dying on me. That's my concern at this moment." He stared at his shoes, seemingly weighing his options. His head bobbed up and down a few times before he looked up at me. There were tears in his eyes. "I- I had a few tabs of X. We were just partying with some friends, it wasn't nothing serious, I swear." "Alright, just answer me some quick questions: any history of seizures, heart problems, diabetes?" He shook his head no each time. "Are you dizzy, feel like you're going to pass out?" Again he shook his head no. "Cramping at all?" Another head shake. "Alright, well that's all good things. How long since you took these pills?" "Maybe an hour or two?" "Alright, not bad. You should be fine physically." I pulled out my cuffs, I could see Martin switching between watching us and watching the rest of the kids. He mutely held out his hands. I cuffed him, hands behind his back as procedure dictates, before patting him down. "Nothing that's going to stick me in your pockets is there?" "No sir." "No weapons?" "No." "No drugs anywhere?" "No sir." "Just so you know, if they find anything narcotic related on you when you're booked at the station that's a felony charge tacked on to this for smuggling drug paraphernalia into a jail." "I'm clean officer." He said quietly. I walked him around and put him in the back seat. "Alright then. I'm going to search the vehicle now, as pursuant to an arrest, just so you know. I'm not going to find anything else in there, am I?" "No..." He muttered. "Just so you know, if I find something and none of your friends claim it, then it's assumed that you're the owner. So again, is there anything else in that car?" He swallowed hard, a few tears leaking out. "Toby stuffed a bag of weed under the front passenger seat." "Which one's Toby?" "Green hair, in the back." "That's it? Nothing else in there?" "As far as I know." "Good man. Just hang tight Mr. Shoemaker." I said as I closed the door on him. I waved Martin over to me. "What's the deal?" "He say's green hair in the back slipped a bag of weed under the front passenger seat." "He the only one?" "As far as this kid knows." "Alright. I'll see if I can get us some backup. We don't have enough room to haul all these kids off should they have something. Besides, they're all going to have their parents called anyway. It's after curfew." Dispatch told us that back up would be another ten minutes or so. The closest unit was wrapping up a DWI of their own. Gotta love Friday nights. All the kids behaved themselves. At first. We had them sit on the edge of the sidewalk while we searched the car. Martin and I intentionally ignored the front passenger seat for a while, buying our time till back up arrived. No need to start arresting the green haired kid until we had some more officers on scene. More lights illuminated the side street as a black and white pulled up. Two friendly faces emerged. Sergeant Murkowski and Officer Ramirez walked up to us. "What's going on Johnny Reb?" Called Ramirez. We had a quick bro hug-hand shake. "Nothing much my man. How's the arm doing?" Ramirez rolled his sleeve up to show the foot long scar Mr. Johnson had given him. The memory made me squirm a bit. "Not bad. Makes the Chicas love up on me that much more." He had a grin that could melt glass. "Sly bastard." I chuckled. "What we got Davis?" Asked Murkowski. "Ask the kid Piotr." Said Martin Murkowski looked over at me, his hands on his hips. Murkowski was a good man who gave the impression of someone who just wanted his pension. Technically he could go ahead and retire, but three kids in college will put a damper on that. We call him the Duck. One look at how he runs and you know why. "Kid?" His gravelly voice asked. "Kid in the back says green hair over there hid a bag of weed under the front passenger seat. We've searched the rest of the car waiting on ya'll and found nothing." "DWI?" He asked, nodding his head toward our cruiser. "Yes Sergeant." "You don't think he's just covering his ass?" "He didn't name anyone but the green haired kid, whose been acting strange since minute one." "Good enough for me. Finish the search and see if the kid was lying about that bag or not." Martin, Ramirez, And Murkowski watched the kids on the sidewalk while I walked up to the car. Within a second of sticking my hand under the seat, I felt the plastic baggy. I held it up in the air as I turned around. The green haired kid immediately took off, squirming out of Murkowski's arms as he did. "Mother fucker, they always run!" Ramirez yelled as he took off after him. "We'll watch the rest Cal, follow Ramirez." "The benefits of tenure!" I yelled as I followed Ramirez. Ahead of me, I could see the back of Ramirez as well as hear a litany of curses in Spanish being yelled out. "This guy is quick for a scrawny fuck!" He yelled back. "No shit!" The kid was basically only visible because of his hair. It lit up every time a streetlight or a passing car's headlights hit him. I was calling in chase updates to dispatch throughout our run through numerous city side streets. Suddenly, the kid turned down an alleyway. Ramirez, still a good fifty feet ahead of me, disappeared around the corner. When I came up, Ramirez had the kid by the legs while the top half of the green haired Flash was hanging over the opposite side of a chain link fence. A stream of words in Spanish were being yelled out through the night. Windows of the apartment blocks on either side of us began opening to see what was going on. I ran up and grabbed the kid by the waistband. He came flying off the fence as all three of us went down in something that looked like a wrestling move off the top turnbuckle. I landed sideways on a trash can. Ramirez I can't speak for. The kid landed flat on his ass like a pancake. Spinal compression anyone? "Oh fuck! My ass!" He screamed. "Don't act like you didn't earn it bud. Hold still!" I shouted while I tried to cuff him. More Spanish was being yelled out. "Speak English Robert!" "Fuck you Alex! I think I fell in dog shit." I looked over to see Robert trying to look around and see his own back. Reminded me of a turtle trying to turn itself over. Once the kid was cuffed, I sat him up against the chain link he'd tried to high jump over. I helped Ramirez's stocky ass up. He turned his back to me while looking over his shoulder. "Well?" "It's not dog shit... I don't think." It looked more like some horrible concoction someone had tried to cook. Perhaps a failed attempt at making dinner by a newlywed wife. "Fuck it stinks. Take that vest off, for my sake." Ramirez was standing there in nothing but a tank top and his uniform pants while we waited for back up to come pick us up. We communicated to dispatch that we were okay and we had a suspect in custody. "You run faster than I remember." I said. "All that border crossing, you know?" We shared a laugh. I couldn't help but check out my Mexican comrade. Least I think he's Mexican. Doesn't matter. His stocky build made him look shorter than he was, though he was shorter than me. His black chest hair stood out from his dark tan skin, the white tank top providing a heady contrast. I'd call him an otter, much like myself. I'm skinnier than he is though. I don't bulk up when I work out for some reason. "See something you like Cal?" He smirked. "Maybe if I was single and you dated men." We laughed again. This was a common joke between us, as we had fooled around a bit when we were at the academy. Nothing serious. He only fucked men. No dating what so ever. I wasn't led on at any point, so I didn't hold a grudge or anything. If anything, it sorta made us closer friends. Hard to explain. When I heard he'd been stabbed, I had a brief moment of horrible fear come over me only to be wiped away when the officer who told me laughed about Ramirez's swearing Mr. Johnson six ways from Sunday. "Speaking of which, how's that going? We haven't had a chance to hang out in a while." "It's going pretty good." "Anything serious so far?" "We haven't said as much, but I think so. He's not seeing anyone else that I know of and neither am I." "That's good man. Bout time you found someone." "We're not getting married Robbie. We've only been hanging out for a month." "Is that what they call it nowadays?" "Quiet you. You're just jealous." I stuck my tongue out. "Could you two take this faggy love fest somewhere else?" Asked green hair from beside us. "Nobody was talking to you Punto." Robbie used his foot to knock him over on his side. The kid struggled around with his hands behind his back. A lot of things were reminding me of turtles today. "Maybe I should get a turtle..." I mumbled. Robbie stared at me like a mother would a slow child, in only that way he could. "The fuck is wrong with you?" Idiots Ch. 03 "Fuck that's good!" He yelled. My neighbors were going to be pissed if they'd slept in, perhaps a day off work spoiled by us. "Shit...Shit...Oh fuck..." I stuttered out. In. out. In. out. I looked down between us. In. out. Such an underrated movement. My cock disappeared like god damn Houdini. His tight twin globes of tushy were the perfect hand holds. His short hair had sweat pouring off of it. This was round two for us. "Is that all you've got?" He twisted his head to look back at me. I pulled a hand out to the side before swinging it back like lighting. A loud smack echoed throughout the apartment, a hand print already starting to show on his pale ass. "Do that again." He growled. Who am I to argue? We just found a whole new game boys. In. Out. Smack. In. Out. Smack. He abruptly pulled off my dick, turning and grabbing me by the neck to slam me down on the mattress. Lips met mine hard. Little bastard even bit my tongue. The only hint I had of action below was a hand positioning me against his open hole. I moaned into his mouth when I felt myself pass the ring of muscle that marked heaven. Up. Down. Up. Down. This was almost better. I didn't have to do anything except stay hard, which wasn't exactly up to me at this point. I wasn't going down till I came, whether the rest of me wanted to or not. His hands stayed on my neck, the difference being one had slipped behind to pull my face to his. The other was still up against my Adam's apple. He started to slow down after a minute or two. Who knows? I rolled us over, his legs staying wrapped around my hips the entire time, my cock lodged in him. This wouldn't last long. His hands wrapped around my neck in a different way now. His thumbs were going up and down, rubbing my cheeks like he was trying to make me smile as we kissed. A few more minutes of thrusting, before my movements became jerky and violent. There's nothing like feeling yourself edge over the cliff into cumming. He only needed a few strokes from my hand before spraying like a hose all over our torsos. Our kisses slowed to a lazy meandering as we both came down from our high. When I felt myself slip out, I did up the condom and walked it over to the trash can. He welcomed me with open arms as we snuggled up together. "So much for a warm lunch." He mumbled against my throat. "I like this way better. Chicken can wait." We had a short nap when my phone woke us both up. It was our day off. Whoever was calling had better be dead, dying, or on the way. "Hello?" I growled out. "Chico!" "This better be good Robbie." Adrian played with my chest hair while I talked. I reached down and kissed him real quick. He giggled before starting to nibble on my nipple. A moan escaped me. "This sounds like a good time I'm missing." "You wish. What did you want?" "You're the one who said he'd come to poker night. It four o clock." "Four o clock!" I exclaimed. "Yup. I knew if I didn't call you'd forget about us." "Oh shit, um... it's six o clock right?" "Correct, at my place. Martin's wife doesn't want us drinking as much as she knows we will in front of her kids." "I'm sure Martin has a claim on them as well." "Not as big as the one she has on his balls." "Very true. Is it cool to bring someone? Oh fuck..." I moaned. Adrian had wrapped his hand around a very sensitive part of me. "Bring your doctor Chico, we want to meet the man who's got you wrapped around his finger." Adrian laughed, only briefly stopping his assault on my nipples. "Was that him?" "Yes..." I moaned, almost forgetting that Robbie was listening. "Well I'm hanging up now so you two can finish. I'll see you at six. Bring something to drink." "Will do." I said before pressing the end call button. "Babe." I said while pulling him off my chest. He looked up at me with a face full of innocence. Lying curd. "Don't look at me like that. Was somebody getting off by making me squirm on the phone?" "Perhaps just a little." He smiled. "Do you want to come with me to Ramirez's tonight?" "Poker sounds fun. And I'm not opposed to meeting your friends. You've met mine." "No I haven't." I was confused. "You've met Denise." "I knew her before you came here." "Exactly. I haven't been here but maybe five months. My work schedule doesn't really let me know anyone outside the hospital." "At least you managed to meet me." I smiled down at him, trying for charming. "And what a blessing that was." He said as he kissed me again. "Care for a shower?" "Oh no. We've only got an hour and a half to get ready. No way would we be that quick." "Well you go first then. You're hair takes longer than mine." "Does not! You were in front of the mirror for thirty minutes the last time we went to dinner. Don't even try to say you weren't." "I was going to say: yes master, whatever you want master." "GET IN THE SHOWER!" I laughed the whole way across the room, his quasi angry face trailing behind. "I thought you didn't want to shower with me." "I've changed my mind. Now mush!" We were strictly professional in our cleaning. Well, almost. He had to slap my hands away numerous times. Still, he eventually let me clean his back for him. I got fingered for a minute before the little tease went back to his side of the stall. I'd come twice already that day, yet my dick was ready to go again. It's like being a teenager again, I swear. "Door is locked and we're good to go." "What do we need to pick up?" "Beer or liquor." "Which do you prefer?" "To the liquor store Dr. Schwartz." "You're never going to get tired of that are you?" "It's unlikely." "Silly boy." He said grinning. Normally, the preppy style annoys me a bit. On Adrian however, I was learning to adjust my ways of thinking. It really took me a while to figure out how exactly he dressed. That may sound weird, but when the majority of the time you see someone you're both in uniform, it can make it hard to imagine them outside of that uniform. When I form a mental image of Adrian in my head, I still see him in scrubs. Damn tight scrubs at that. Chinos didn't look bad on him though, even if the ocean blue reminded me of an episode of Miami Vice. My ripped and faded jeans looked vastly out of place walking alongside him. "Was the Hawaiian shirt really necessary?" I asked. He was wearing a light blue based shirt with tropical designs in different bright colors open over a peach colored tank top. Blue tinted aviators completed the package. "One of us needs to have some flare. How long did it take to pick out that t-shirt?" I looked down at my Bud Lite shirt. It was a throw back from the 80's with a surf board and several empty cans laying on a beach next to a cooler. "At least ten seconds." When we got to street level, Adrian did something we hadn't previously done. He took my hand in his as we walked down the street to the liquor store. Big progressive city that this was, no one gave two fucks about a couple of dudes holding hands. This was an act of possession. He didn't even dare look my way. His eyes were straight ahead as we plodded along. My eyes switched from our hands to the side of his head. "This is new." I said while giving our hands a little shake. "Is it?" "Don't play coy. You like me." "You're tolerable." "Come on, admit it! You like me." People around us began giving us strange glances, a few laughing as they did so. "Would you shut up?" He said with his blue glasses staring straight at my face. "He does care." I said with a dramatic sigh. He chuckled before shaking his head. "You are a child." "A man-child." "Fine. An incredibly hot man-child who can't be serious for more than two seconds at a time." "Works for me... boyfriend?" "Boyfriend." He nodded once. "Does this mean I can drag you around to the other kids' houses for show and tell?" "Quiet you. What type of booze do you want to get. I'm feeling some vodka." "That'll work for me. I'm not really in the mood to have something you can taste if you know what I mean." "Yeah, I do. If they didn't make mix drinks I'd probably never get drunk. I can't drink enough beer to do it. The taste makes me sick after about four." "Agreed, though not about the sick part." We sat on a city bench while we waited for the cab service to come pick us up. The guy said it'd be about ten minutes. We could've gotten a normal cab, but I liked this company and we weren't in any hurry. "So, tell me about your friends." He said while reclined on the bench, his arms spread out behind him. The one behind me rested with his hand on my shoulder. "Well there's not much to tell really. Martin's been my partner for a little over three years now. He's in his mid-thirties, has a weird sense of humor sometimes, and can take a while to warm up to people. He's a good guy though, once he comes around. His wife makes him ornery. That and the herd of kids the man has given spawn to." "Will he like me?" "He's already seen you a couple of times though ya'll have never spoken I don't think. He was the one who told me to talk to you." "Which you failed to do." "Hey, I talked to you." "Not in any way to let me know which team you batted for or if you were even interested." "I made the first move." "Oh that's bull shit. 'You have pretty eyes.' Is not making the first move, especially while I'm half-awake eating some burnt eggs you called yourself making." "I'm hurt! Here I thought my eggs was what brought you round to my side." "If that was the case, I'd have changed states to get away from those eggs." "So hurtful..." I pouted. "Cheer up Macduff. You have plenty of other skills." He leered at my crotch. We can't fuck on a bench Adrian. Even I will go to jail for that. "Now, tell me about the other guy. The one who called if I remember correctly." "That you do. Robbie and I went to the academy together. We've fooled around here and there." He gave me a questioning look. "Nothing serious, I assure you. He doesn't date guys and even if he did I'm not sure we would've made a good couple. We're too much alike, too competitive at the wrong things. Plus, Robbie is still in the sleeping around stage." "Is he hot?" He interrupted me before I could say anything with, "You can be honest." "Stocky, cute Mexican guy with a decent amount of chest hair and a good build." "Smoking?" "Oh yeah." "Who topped?" I damn near choked on air. "Excuse me?" "Who. Topped?" He was smiling broadly. "I only topped Robbie once, and that was sorta an experiment for him. He said he liked it, he just didn't know how to really feel about it. I told him not to worry about it, that I'd go with the flow." "You prefer the bottom anyway." "And how do you know this?" He stared at me, again like I was an idiot. "You practically beg for my cock every time I fuck you. The first few times I bottomed I had to bribe you with food." "What can I say, my prostate isn't on the tip of my dick. Like all good things, it's what's on the inside that matters." "Oh my god, just shut up now." "I wish I could have your dick in my ass all the time." I whispered against his ear. "If you keep that up I'm telling the cabbie to take us back to your place and Robbie can go fuck himself." "He may do that already for all I know." "I really do want to meet this guy now." "Sounds like someone wants a threesome." He looked me up and down for a moment. Before he could say anything, our white cab pulled up, trademark of the Easy E's Cab Company. We both clambered inside the back, my credit card immediately going through the reader. "What's going on Officer Macintyre?" Jesus called from up front. He'd driven me home numerous times, even helping me to the door on a few occasions. He was a cool old dude who always wore floral shirts, sorta like what Adrian had on now, but more Caribbean themed. "Nothing much Padre. This here's Adrian, my boyfriend." I said beaming. "Eh! Congratulations my man. Hey blondie, this is my best customer. You fuck him over, and I float you down the river, they never gonna find you." Adrian laughed along with Jesus. "As long as I can bring my water wings, I'm fine." "Water wings, HA! Good man, good man. Where we going to this time chief?" "I'm not chief yet Padre. One day maybe. Do you remember Robert Ramirez's house?" "The Hombre you work with?" "That's the one." "I know it my man." Adrian and I were entertained by Jesus's singing the entire way out to the suburbs. Robbie lived in a modestly sized three room ranch house he'd inherited when his grandmother passed away. I'd been here more times than I could count. "See ya later Padre." I left him a large tip for taking us all the way out from the city. "Take it easy Gringo Loco." "So," Adrian started. "That was interesting." "Yeah, Jesus is something else." "We were talking about something before that cab ride." "That we were." "Fine, I'll say it. I don't want an open relationship, but if we found someone we both wanted to have some fun with, I wouldn't mind so long as we both agreed. That good with you?" "Perfect babe. In all honesty, I don't really want anyone but you." I said quietly. "I... I don't know what to say." He looked stunned. "Relax baby." I said with a quick kiss. "I'm just saying I really like you too. I'm open to having some fun myself, but only if you want to. If it's just me and you from here on, I'm more than okay with that." He pulled me in for a deep kiss. We were starting to get into when a set of headlights broke up our exchange. "God Damn! Dinner and a show." Exclaimed Martin as he pulled himself out of his car. "Here I thought I was late." "Martin meet Adrian Schwartz. Adrian, this is Martin Davis, my partner." They both shook hands, exchanging pleasantries. "I would ask if you'd talked to Robbie but I'm going to go ahead and assume the answer is no." "That'd be correct. He called me at four. Since then he's a ghost." "Well, let's go wake the lazy bum up." Martin was the first to call out when we got to the door. By call out, I mean the fool rang the doorbell while banging on the door, all the while yelling "Police! Search warrant. Come on out, we know you're in there!" Some of Robbie's neighbors knew who we were. The ones who didn't looked worried. Their worried looks vanished when the door opened to reveal Robbie in jeans and a tank top. He hugged Martin and me before turning to face Adrian. "So this is the mysterious doctor. Nice to finally meet the guy whose taken up all of the idiot's time." "He only spends time with me cause I feed him." Laughed Adrian. "I'm sure you feed him something." Joked Martin. "Is this shit on Alex night or what?" I said laughing. "We don't need to know what you two do in your spare time." Martin said, then continued before I could retort. "Where's the salsa Ramirez? And not that nasty shit you tried to peddle down our throats last time." Martin pointed a finger in Robbie's direction. "Yes sir corporal. I made sure to hit Mrs. Gonzales up when I knew you were coming." "Wait a minute, how come I don't get the good stuff if it'd just been me?" I asked. "Cause you're not special, least not that way." Called Martin. He had settled down in his normal seat at Robbie's kitchen table so that he could see the television. He was already organizing the cards and chips. The salsa was home made by a lady who lived a few doors down from Robbie who knew him since he was a little boy. When we came here last time, Martin noticed the difference the second the chip hit his mouth. You would've thought he'd tasted poison and had to warn the king before he died. Turned out, Mrs. Gonzales was on vacation that week. Martin has bitched about it ever since. "If you like the stuff that much, then you need to go talk to her yourself." Said Robbie. "I just may do that. She made that weird dessert too, didn't she?" "When I got cut up by that bastard Johnson?" Martin nodded. "Yeah she made that. They're not weird, they're Churros." "The only thing close to that word this white boy knows is Cheerios." "Idiots." Robbie muttered. "Anything we can do to help?" I asked. "YOU can stay out of the way. Go sit with Martin, that way you don't hurt anything. Your boy toy can come help me in the kitchen." "Jackass." I turned and gave Adrian a quick peck before going to sit beside Martin. Five minutes later, Martin was busting my balls again. "He's not going to disappear." "I know that." "Well then stop burning a hole in his back. Watch the TV. Hell, watch a bird for all I care." "Thanks Martin. You really know how to make a guy feel good about his self." "I do try..." He glanced up at me, then over to Adrian. "He seems like a good guy so far. At least he looks over here whenever you look away for more than two seconds." "What?" My eyes immediately snapped over to Adrian, whose eyes swiftly ducked back to whatever he was cooking. "God bless America son, never get a puppy. If the thing was the least bit skittish, you'd frighten if off." "I just like watching him." "I'm going to puke." "Fuck off." When the food was ready, Robbie and Adrian set the plates down on the bar. We all served ourselves in a short little line, Adrian and Robbie going first since they cooked. They had made some sort of grilled chicken mixed with peppers and tomatoes, rice on the side. Mashed potatoes and gravy sat off to the side, isolated like they were in time out. Robbie only made them for me, so he liked to let me know in subtle ways how my food choices were inferior to his. I'm not bull shitting, we'd had this conversation before. I grabbed some steamed tortilla shells on my way back to the table. "Everything looks great guys. You did good." Said Martin. I said something in agreement. "Let's not get too cocky." Said Adrian. "We'll see if it kills you first." "At least I'll die happy and fed." I said. We chatted amiably throughout our meal. Martin and Robbie talked about work, while Adrian and I exchanged flirty glances. Robbie threw a steamed carrot at me. "You guys can flirt at home." "Ah Robbie, here I thought of this as a home away from home." I pouted. He shook his head while saying something that sounded decidedly derogatory towards me in Spanish. I noticed Adrian giving Robbie some long glances throughout the night. Even after we moved on to our poker game and started drinking, the mood remained light. "You son of bitch Ramirez." "Don't blame me for how the cards come out Martin, no one likes a sore loser." "I fold." Grumped Martin, his cards hitting the table in a quiet fervor. He hadn't been drinking, since he had to drive. "I raise." Said Adrian. Slurred is probably a better word. Yeah, let's go with slurred. "You come after me Adrian." I said, tapping his shoulder. "Well call so I can raise." He stated. "What if I want to raise?" "You don't. Now call." "Fuck you, I'm raising." "If that's part of your plan Adrian, then you're a genius when you're drunk." Said Robbie. "Do what?" I asked confused, my mind muddled by drink. "Don't worry about it babe." Adrian said while laying down some chips. Robbie laughed some more. I was feeling good. I lost that hand miserably with Adrian raking in all the chips. I didn't give a fuck. I was too drunk and we weren't playing for money anyway. "Well fella's, I'm out of here. I'm sure the Mrs. Is ready for me to come on home." "Adios Martin." I said. "See ya man." Called Robbie. Adrian just silently waved, a smile planted on his face. "Bunch of winos." Martin said as he walked past us and out the door. Idiots Ch. 03 Absentmindedly, I got up to sit on the couch. The TV seemed interesting. Then again, everything was getting a bit blurry at this point. Adrian came over to plop down in my lap. Robbie sat in a recliner to our right. "I'm really drunk..." I mumbled. Adrian looked down at me, staring with his face expressionless. Without warning, he broke out into peals of laughter. "Looks like you're not the only one." Said Robbie. His voice sounded distant, though he was clearly sitting in the same chair. God I was smashed. "Soooo..." Adrian slurred. "Cal says you two are hot together." Robbie busted out laughing. I stuck my face into Adrian's shoulder while laughing. I was trying my damndest not to pass out from oxygen deprivation. My arms stayed wrapped around Adrian. "Sounds like he finds this quite amusing. You gonna live Chico?" I peered around Adrian to find Robbie smiling at me. Laughter overtook me once more. Adrian's hands curled into my hair as he slowly starting scratching his fingers over my scalp. I was like a kitten getting its neck scratched. "He'll be fine. He just needs to sleep it off." "I ain't sleeping shit!" "Quiet idiot." Said Adrian. I slid him over to a couch cushion so I could walk to the kitchen. "Where's he going?" I heard Adrian ask. "Vodka is in the kitchen." I shuffled back over to the couch, bottle of vodka in one hand, our pre-blended mixer in the other. "Something you're about to learn about Alex here. He doesn't stop drinking until he's completely gone. At least that's the way he is with liquor. I've never seen him drink more than two beers at a time." "He doesn't like them." They continued to talk about me like I wasn't there. I kept drinking while watching their faces move. Is it wrong to say I like being drunk? It's why I don't drink that much. The feeling could easily be addicting to me. "You two talked about that?" "About what?" I asked. Both their heads looked at me again. They seemed almost sober. "Don't worry about it babe." "Yeah, keep playing with the nice table." "Hey fuck you. It's cool." He had a weird coffee table. One of those ones from the 70's with the cooler inside. I was opening and closing the lid, enjoying the cold air on my hands. "He is truly a man-child." Adrian said. Everything beyond that is a blur. "Babe?" Dear god in heaven, make it stop. His voice wasn't like nails on a chalkboard. It was like someone had crashed a wrecking ball through the wall opposite the chalkboard. "Babe, it's time to wake up." "I'll kill you if you keep talking." "Tell his bitch ass to come on!" Robbie shouted from somewhere else in the house. "Robbie has to go to work and although I'm sure he trusts us, it's probably best if we went home." I had a brief, BRIEF, moment where an internal smile went across my brain that he'd called my place home. Robbie popping in the door quickly blew that moment away. "LET'S GO!" I started to say fuck off. Before I could, two-hundred and fifteen pounds of well-muscled Mexican jackass crashed down on my back and ruffled my hair. Every hair on my head may as well have been acupuncture needles, twisting and grinding with his hand. A short, pitiful scuffle ensued. Robbie's stronger than me to begin with. Add in my mummified state, and I may as well have just laid there and took it. He rolled me over into a sitting position where the first sight I clearly had was of Adrian giggling like a little kid in the corner. "I hate all of you." They laughed. Fuckers. "Get up, brush your teeth, and take your boyfriend home. We've been waiting all morning for you to get up." "What time is it?" "11:00. I've got to be at the station by twelve." "Roger that. I still hate you. At least Adrian was nice about it." "And I still got threatened with death." He said. "You were always safe. I need someone to fix me breakfast... well, lunch if we're honest." "Today, that distinguished job will go to whoever's cooking at the drive through." "Doesn't matter. I won't taste it anyway." I shuffled into the bathroom. My toothbrush was still here from the last time I'd been too drunk to find the door. That'd probably been over three months ago. Robbie doesn't come into this side of the house much. I think it may have been his grandmother's old bedroom. To my knowledge, Robbie's current room was the same one he had as a kid. Their voices came muffled through the door. Adrian said something about how I could sleep through a hurricane provided the room didn't collapse on me. Robbie said I'd just use the debris as a pillow. Assholes, all of them. "We had breakfast together, while someone slept, so I'm going to skip the apologies for not feeding you." Said Robbie as we all walked to the front door. "It's fine. I've got my eyes on some cheap coffee with a greasy sausage dog anyway." "We're not going to Bill's Grease Hut." Adrian said simply. Like BAM! No room for argument. Just simply, you're not going. "What do you mean?" "I mean, you're not eating a heart attack on a bun after seeing how many times you could tell your liver to go fuck itself last night." "But, I like Bill's." I felt like a child. "And I like you. Get in the car." He held the back door to Robbie's truck open for me. "What are we eating then?" I said as the door shut. He didn't answer for another five seconds or so after he got in the front seat with Robbie cranking up the engine and turning the radio down from its previously concert level volume. "Shit, Robbie. I see someone needing hearing aids by the time he's fifty." Said Adrian. "Food..." I sulked. "Later. If we hadn't left when we did, you fuckers would be taking the bus." Said Robbie. We headed down the highway back into the city. The precinct wasn't but a few blocks over from my apartment. It was the primary reason I lived where I did. That, and there was a kick ass coffee shop on my block who gave the boys in blue a nice discount. If there is one thing this cop loves more than coffee, it's cheap coffee. "Drop us at the Del Café at least. It's on the same street." "I know where it is. So does every cop at the station. If someone ever robs that place, they're going to piss off everyone in the 29th Precinct." "Not to mention half the hospital staff." Added Adrian. Del Café was on the way to work for many of the hospital staff who lived in the suburbs south of town, or in the lower rent areas of the city to the south as well. With the 29th Precinct being right around the block, they were going to be in business for a long time to come. The Cuban couple who ran it were extremely nice. They loved us too. An officer had stopped their dog from running into traffic one day ten years ago and we've all been heroes ever since. Now, a different dog wanders around the shop; a son of the original who brought the city's cops into the Dominguez's good graces. Most customers eye the big Rottweiler skeptically at first. After five minutes of Rommel begging for food, most people learn that he's a big sissy. "Cuban coffee seems as good a way as any to blast a hangover." "A fruit salad will balance out your food karma." Said Adrian. "A fruit salad? Who eats a fruit salad for breakfast?" "As you said, it's lunch time." "Which means I'm getting a sandwich and a churro." "The hell you are. Sandwich. No churro. That's final." A litany of Spanish rolled off Robbie's tongue before he said, in English, "You two argue like a married couple. If this is love, then I'm glad to wait." Neither Adrian nor myself said anything else. I don't know about Adrian, but my heart was in my throat. Thanks for nothing Ramirez, you Mexican prick. I swear, the thought hadn't crossed my mind before. Yes I like Adrian. A lot. But love is a big word to throw around after, what a month? It takes longer to get over a bad cold. Adrian stared straight out the windshield, his face didn't give anything away when I looked at him through the side mirror. The atmosphere was thicker than Cuban coffee when Robbie pulled up to the curb outside Del Café. Mutely, we both stood in the line. He hadn't looked at me when I held the door open to the place, and it seemed he was intent to keep it up as he stood beside me now. Fucking Robbie had to go and throw that stupid word out there. There was only one person ahead of us at the counter. I eyed the churros in their display. Here we go baby, just spit it out quick and we're home free. "Hola Officer Macintyre, what can we do for you today? Is this a friend of yours?" Mrs. Dominguez's daughter was on the register today. She knew me almost as well as her parents. If she was here, I'm sure her brother was scrubbing toilets somewhere in back. "This is my boyfriend Adrian. Adrian, this is Amelia." "Nice to meet you, Amelia." Were the first words he'd said in the past fifteen minutes. "Oh, you two are so cute together. What can I get you?" "I'll take a turkey sandwich with mayo, all the different types of cheddar you can find, and whatever peppers you deem appropriate, and-" "Two Cuban coffees with a fruit salad." Adrian chimed. I stared down at him, in shock I say, as he handed over his credit card. "I got it babe." He smiled up at me sweetly. The devil behind a mask if I ever saw it. "Sure thing guys. I'll bring it out to you when it's ready." "Thank you Amelia." Smiled Adrian. "What he said." I waved as I followed Adrian to a corner booth by the window. He smiled the entire time, like a Cheshire fucking cat. "I hate you, you sneaky man you." "I told you there would be no churros today." Amelia brought over our coffees and my sandwich, plus Adrian's salad. The thing I love about this place is the portions. The sandwich was huge, with fresh cut meat and homemade bread they get from the farmer's market. Adrian reached over and cut the thing in half while a watched. I didn't know if I loved his presumption that I'd share my lunch with him or if I should smack his hand while pointing to his little fruit salad. "You have fruit." "That you're eating half of." "But I have my sandwich." "Half of a sandwich." "Which is still a complete sandwich if taken anywhere else." "Not here." "You're infuriating." "You're in love." I stared across the table, my eyes locked on his while he took a bite out of his half of my sandwich, or at least what was supposed to be mine. "Says who?" I swallowed deeply even as I asked. "Says me." "And what about you? Surely my charm has had some effect on you. It's been nearly two months after all. Most people either love me or hate me by now." "I don't hate you... much." His eyes sparkled in the noon day sun coming through the window. Shadows covered the lower half of his face from the neon 'Open' sign that hung on the glass. "Am I going to be the first to say it?" "Why should either of us say it?" "We both know it." "Exactly. Just let it be." I sat staring at him some more. The fucker was laughing at me in his head. It was plain as day. He kept chewing away. "Fuck you." "Maybe later. Eat." No man in the history of the world has ever managed to eat diced pineapple, apple slices, and grapes as angrily as I did that day. I was one bite into my sandwich when I had enough. "Fuck it." I reached across the table to grab his hand, holding it firmly with my own. "I love you, okay? It's not been long, but I think about you all the time for no reason at all. When I buy a shirt I ask myself if you'll like it. When I get off work, I come looking for you. When you're busy, I'm sad. It's god damn frustrating!" "Same, on all accounts." His smile had gotten bigger, his fingers sliding gently over my palm. "You're going to say the words if I have to come across this table and beat them out of you with this coffee cup." I held up the proof of my threat in my left hand. "I love you Alex." He said on a long sigh. "Though sometimes I question my judgment." He smirked. "You sir, are an asshole. How dare you ruin this moment." I laughed. "Here I thought you loved my asshole." "That... may be the creepiest thing I've ever heard anyone say." "Tough. Stay here." He stood up, squeezing my hand as he let it go. "I'm hitting the head." He walked past me towards the counter and the restrooms. I watched traffic go by, pondering our new found understanding. It's like someone placed a bomb in the middle of a room. As long as no one mentions it, there's no danger to be had, or at least acknowledged. But some bastard always comes along and says, 'Is that a bomb?' and suddenly we have to deal with it. At least this one seemed to be incapable of blowing us up this time. A plate plopped down in front of me. Adrian resumed his seat across from me, arms crossed with a broad grin smirking at me. "He does love me." I said. A single churro sat before me. "I claim half of that." "Deal." Idiots "Feeling better?" He has pretty eyes. They're light blue. Pretty blue eyes. I nodded. I did feel slightly more alive than last night. Not that that's saying much. He ate while I stared at him. Fuck politeness. "It's not your fault, you know." "I know." "Then stop blaming yourself—" "You have pretty eyes." He stopped with the fork halfway to his mouth. The egg landed on the toast. It covered some of the burned parts. "What." He stared like I was crazy. "They're blue. And pretty. So are you, in a masculine way." He slowly sat the plate on the table. "Are you sure you're alright?" "Positive." "Why would you say that?" "Because I'm fine." "No, about..." he gestured towards his face. "Because it's the truth." He reached around to the back of my neck and pulled my head so hard I thought it'd snap. He was hard and aggressive. His lips were soft. Tasted like bacon. I was already lacking a shirt, so undressing wasn't too difficult for me. He spun in a circle trying to get his sweatshirt off while I tried to undo the jeans of a twirling man. "Hold fucking still!" I laughed at the absurdity of how he looked. Hair all fucked up, jeans undone, and a sweatshirt seemingly tied in a knot on his head. We can't all be doctors. I don't know how or why I never tried to get him in my bed before. God, he's aggressive. There's nothing like a small top. I'm pretty versatile. Depending on who I'm with, I can top or bottom. I enjoy both, though bottoming is my favorite. He's not the biggest I've had and I'm sure I'm not the biggest he's had. Not that it mattered. Something told me right away he'd never had anything bigger than a finger or two up his ass. Maybe I'll fix that one day. I was playing with his chest hair while looking over his shoulder. He fits like a fucking puzzle piece in my arms. A puzzle piece that put my arm to sleep, but still. I love holding him. I looked to the nightstand. Four o clock. That didn't take long. "How many times did we come?" "I counted two all." "Not bad for an hour." "Nope" We laid still for a while. "Wanna watch a movie?" "Sure. I've got the day off." "Cool." ***** It's been a while, but time has a tendency to slip away. Anyway, this is just something i wrote in a couple of hours of boredom. Comments are appreciated. Enjoy!