Steele was back in the back of Ruxs’ truck, bumming a ride home that evening with the thoughts of Tech touching him still searing his skin. The hot young detective had boldly handled him, grabbed him and yanked him where he’d wanted him. Steele rubbed his hand over his neck, like Tech’s fingers were still there, his soft voice in his ear. So sexy. Now he had to go home and try to sleep with a hard-on all night. As tired as he was, he didn’t need to stay up all night again. Last night, he’d hardly gotten any sleep, anxious about seeing Tech after what’d happened. But now that things were good, he’d gotten to showcase a little talent, and he got along great with Ruxs and Green; he actually thought he’d be able to rest without the assistance of alcohol.

  Steele looked around when Ruxs turned into his trailer park, which was already starting to come alive with shady activity as night fell. Kids were still running around in bare feet with no jackets to protect them from the chilly weather. He shook his head in frustration when he noticed his metal-head neighbor was already setting up for company. An assortment of raggedy chairs was strewn about the yard and what looked to be a makeshift fire pit was being built. That goddamn monster boom box was blaring music that could probably be heard clear across the park.

  “Man. You’ve gotta get the fuck out of here.” Green sighed when they pulled into his cracked driveway.

  “I said it’s temporary, and it will be. I’ll find something,” Steele almost snarled, looking over at his neighbor. “I’m tired, though. He’d better not be having a party.”

  “Yeah… umm. Good luck with that.” Green chuckled when a dusty, jacked-up four-by-four that was obviously used for off-roading roared to a stop in front of his neighbor’s place. Three guys jumped down from the cab carrying cases of beer, all of them more ugly and annoying than the other.

  “Hey. We got a couple extra rooms, Steele. You’re welcome to one if you want, until you find your own place.” Ruxs turned around, looking at him. “You don’t have PTSD or no shit like that, do you… not gonna come in our room and try to fuck us into submission or no shit like that, right?”

  Steele punched Ruxs’ headrest, a scoff bursting from him. “Shut up. No, I don’t have PTSD… much. And thank you, but no thank you. I’d rather not listen to you guys fuck like gladiators all night. I’ll take the metal over that suffering any day.”

  “Suit yourself.” Ruxs shrugged. “Don’t hate that I have a healthy sex life, man. Jealousy is not attractive.”

  Steele dropped down and slammed Ruxs’ door, leaning against it while he assessed how he was going to handle the situation. He lit a sweet cigar and blew the smoke so it’d go right into Ruxs’ window, his partner flashing angry green eyes at him. He pushed off the truck and walked across the dirt lawn up to his neighbor. He already had a Budweiser in his hand, while his friends stood around talking loudly and smoking cigarettes.

  There was no need to act like he was there for any other reason but one. “Yo.”

  “What’s up? You wanna brew, man?” his neighbor asked, bending down to get one from the iceless cooler.

  “No. What I want is for you to keep it down tonight. Some people around here work, including myself. I don’t wanna hear that all night.” Steele pointed at the radio that was blaring loud enough to make him have to yell to be heard.

  His neighbor glared back for a few seconds and turned his lip up at him. “It’s only eight.”

  “It’s still too damn loud. Keep it down.” Steele turned, not bothering to wait for a response. Ruxs and Green kept watching until Steele went through his front door, slamming it closed behind him. He heard Ruxs’ truck drive off, but what he didn’t hear was the volume of the music decreasing.

  He looked out the window and saw a few more people had shown up, including some females. Someone noticed him watching and tapped his neighbor, yelling something in his ear. The guy waved with a smug smile. Steele flicked him off, earning him an angry look from a few of his friends before he closed the blinds.

  He went in the back room that was no bigger than a walk-in closet and took his shirt and holster off. His eyes burned from the lack of sleep. All was quiet in his tiny living space, and he’d probably fall into a deep sleep if it weren’t for the ruckus next door. Groaning loudly, he barely resisted going back over there and flashing his badge. After he ate his Hungry Man microwave meal, he was going to try to sleep; hopefully, he wouldn’t have to commit manslaughter first.

  He thought about Tech the entire time he was in the shower, seven minutes to be exact because that’s the maximum time allotted for hot water consumption. He had to wash his dick and balls fast to avoid the urge to tug one out. He didn’t know what was going on with him; he’d never been attracted to anyone who looked like Tech before. Maybe it was from being around so many jarheads, Tech’s sweater vest and khakis were a new and exciting change. That neatly styled hair that he wanted to run his fingers through and mess up just for the sake of it. Just to see the man flustered and panting with need for him.

  Steele sat down in his recliner with his dinner, ready to watch some mindless television, but couldn’t ignore the loud women squealing next door or the horny men’s rowdiness while they drunkenly chased them around the yard. All that, along with the headache-inducing heavy metal music.

  Steele picked up his phone and called the non-emergency police number to report the noise. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take long for a couple officers to get out here. After he finished eating his gourmet style Salisbury and mac-n-cheese that still had a couple cold spots in the center, he decided to look on line for apartments closer to his precinct. Maybe even one with a garage so he could get his bike from his uncle’s. He wouldn’t dare let it sit unprotected around the trailer park. After about an hour of searching and finding a few good leads, Steele heard the music shut off and everything went quiet. Checking his watch, he saw it was almost eleven. The roaming red and blue lights reflecting off his dingy walls confirmed his suspicions that the police had finally arrived. Serves you fuckers right. Partying on a goddamn Tuesday night.

  Steele yawned for the millionth time and shut everything off, feeling like he’d finally get some much-needed rest. Ruxs would be there to pick him up at six. Steele was in a dead sleep, snoring and drooling when a loud crash sounded in his living room. He yanked his Glock from under his pillow and was up on his feet in seconds. He didn’t open his eyes while he listened for any movement. Another crash sounded – his damn windows breaking in the living room. He could only see behind his trailer from his back window. With his peacemaker pointed downward, he slid open the pocket door that separated his bedroom from the kitchen and peeked out into the living room. Nothing. He hurried to the window over the sink and glanced outside. His neighbor and friends were all standing on the lawn, drinking like nothing had happened. Steele surveyed the damage. Four or five beer bottles littered his front room, but what really pissed him off was that one had hit his big screen television, cracking it in the top left corner.

  Steele growled and slung the door open. He realized he was only in his boxer briefs so he stood in the door, his gun out of view. His neighbor looked in his direction, a grin tugging on his mouth like he was barely holding in his laughter. The rest kept their backs to him, but when the punk turned the music back up sky high, the others couldn’t resist breaking into laughing fits.

  Steele closed his door and leaned his forehead against it. Taking deep breaths, he talked himself out of doing anything that’d get him suspended or worse, fired. He was a police officer; he couldn’t bash anyone’s head in just because he was extremely pissed. He’d have to go through the proper channels and file a report. His breathing was still elevated, air hissing out his nose with each exhale, like a bull intimidating its rider.

  Mindful where he stepped with his bare feet, he went into his bedroom and called one of the very few people he knew he could depend on after the short amount of time he’d been in Atlanta.

  “Hello,” the raspy voice answered.

  “Ruxs, I’m gonna kill these motherfuckers, man.”

  “We’re on our way.”

  The line went dead and Steele sighed in relief. No other explanations, no pleading or begging for help was needed. The word partners obviously meant something to Ruxs and Green that they’d stop whatever they were doing, no matter what, and come to help with only a few frustrated words spoken. He’d only hoped he’d find partners like that again so many years after losing his squad.

  Steele went about packing up his clothes and toiletries. He wasn’t coming back. His television was fucked, so that only left his small stereo and his answering machine. He was sitting in his recliner, smoking a cigar when he heard the roaring of Ruxs’ truck skid to an angry stop. Two doors slammed and heavy boots ascended his steps. Neither of them knocked, just busted through the door with looks of anger and concern on their faces. Once they saw he was safe and intact, the two of them looked around at the broken glass, shaking their heads in annoyance. Steele pulled on the cigar again, letting it calm his nerves. But his partners looked like they had other ideas.

  Both of them went for his stuff, which was stacked by the door. “Let’s go,” Green mumbled.

  While they loaded his few belongings into the back of the truck, his neighbor watched with satisfaction, bopping his head to his music. Steele was ready to climb in the backseat when Ruxs gripped his shoulder. “Where the fuck are you going?”

  “I gotta get outta here before I do something stupid,” Steele snarled.

  “Oh, brother.” Ruxs smirked. “You have to understand who you’re partnered with now. We don’t let bullshit like this slide. On my grave, it’ll say ‘always did something stupid… and it felt damn good’.”

  Steele smiled when Green tossed Ruxs a big Louisville Slugger over the hood of the truck. “Ever heard that song ‘Rage Against the Machine’? Personally, it’s one of my favorites, and so fitting for this moment.”

  Green pulled a shotgun from underneath the seat and Ruxs spun on his heels, walking right up to his neighbor’s yard with the bat cocked back like he was getting ready to knock a ball out the park, and sent the fat end of his bat into the face of the stereo. Silence followed as pieces and parts flew around him. His neighbor sprang out of the way when Ruxs raised the bat high over his head and came down on it again. The friends went to advance, but Green took a couple steps forward and cocked the shotgun, issuing a warning. There wasn’t a man alive that didn’t fear that sound. Green kept it aimed in the air while Ruxs went crazy on the man’s stereo until there was nothing left of it then started tearing up his chairs. When all six of the guys raised their hands and backed away, Green planted his feet wide like a bodyguard and let the barrel of the gun rest on his shoulder. Steele leaned against the grille of the truck, pulling long drags off his cigar while he watched his partners’ entertaining display of retribution. There’d be no useless reports filed. Eye for an eye. Destruction for destruction.

  He wasn’t sure if he’d actually heard the bumping or not. He was in a deep sleep in Ruxs and Green’s spare bedroom. It’d been too late to consider going to his uncle’s in Buford, so he’d gritted his teeth and accepted their invitation instead of finding a hotel. Actually, it was more like Green telling him to shut up and driving him to their place despite his refusal.

  Yeah, there it was again. Definitely a bump. Steele looked at his watch since it was still dark outside. September was his favorite month, the fall season his favorite time of year. Daylight savings was fast approaching, and after being deployed for so long, it was still a bitch to get used to. He groaned when he saw it was five thirty. At least he’d gotten a few hours of sleep. The place was nice – well, anything was better than where he’d been – but it was clean, and looked and felt like a home. Steele hadn’t expected the huge two-story loft above a distribution warehouse that took up half a block. Enough square footage to have nice man-sized recliners and a wraparound leather sectional in front of a big screen television that looked to have every game console there was wired to it. There was ample workout equipment positioned in a nook that got plenty of sun. And an area to the far right with a pool table, a couple of arcade machines, and a bar for entertaining. It was large enough to host a decent sized house party. The tall ceilings made it a little drafty but Steele preferred the cool these days, having spent years in Afghanistan, he’d grown to despise the heat.

  Steele got out of bed and dropped down to the floor to do what he’d done every morning since he was eighteen unless it wasn’t possible, one hundred sit-ups and one hundred pushups. Some people preferred coffee; he used exercise and core-warming to wake him. He was able to do the entire workout in twenty minutes, taking a short breather between sets. When he finished he got up and grabbed the towel and washcloth Green gave him last night and his toiletry kit.

  Walking to the bathroom at the end of the hall, he heard the unmistakable sounds of moaning and desire. His steps faltered right before he got to Green and Ruxs’ bedroom door, which was pushed slightly open. Did they forget they had company? Or maybe they didn’t give a damn.

  “Chris, yeah. Like that.” Steele heard Ruxs groan loudly.

  For shit’s sake. He didn’t need to hear any of this. It’s why he hadn’t wanted to come here. The last thing he needed in his head all day was sounds of their sex. But it wasn’t what he thought. Steele inched past slowly, looking through the gap in the door. A soft-looking gray cover was pulled up to their waists, leaving their naked torsos visible. Both of them were on their sides facing the door but their eyes were sealed tight with ecstasy while Ruxs moved slowly behind his partner. This wasn’t the sweaty, balls slapping romp he’d imagined them having. No, Ruxs and Green were making lazy, passionate love to each other.

  “I love you so much,” Green whispered, pulling Ruxs’ palm from over his heart and kissing each knuckle while Ruxs kept moving behind him.

  Fuck. Steele kept walking before he got caught. He closed himself in the bathroom and leaned against the door. He looked down at his hard dick, refusing to touch it. It was just wrong on too many levels. That was private. It was their moment, their love, and he was too decent a man to try to hone in and jerk one out to it. He had to admit to himself that what he’d just saw was beautiful and inspiring. Steele pushed his erection down and closed his eyes, trying to think of anything but the hope and dream of wanting that kind of love for himself. A true partner to fulfill him in every way.

  He tried to think of work, but all that came to mind was a hot geek. He smiled, wondering what Tech would wear today. Slim jeans with a dress shirt and a bow tie. He hadn’t seen him wear that yet, but he was actually looking forward to it.

  He turned on the shower, pleased when it heated up in no time flat. He did finally moan when he stepped under the huge showerhead that pelted his neck and back. Oh god, that feels good. He needed this… really, really needed it. Maybe he’d pick up a pair of headphones or something today. Green had offered his spare room for as long as Steele wanted or until he found a place. With that comfortable, plush mattress and this showerhead, Steele was having a damn hard time saying no.

  After dressing in a comfortable pair of jeans and his last clean long john, he slid on his steel toes and clipped his badge on his hip, concealing it like most undercovers. He was putting his wallet in his back pocket when the combined smells of seared meat and something sweet hit him. They got breakfast delivery here?

  Steele jogged down the metal staircase and almost tripped down the last step when he saw Green in the kitchen in front of the stove, flipping what looked like French toast while Ruxs sat at the breakfast bar, shoving pieces into his mouth and reading something on his phone. It looked crazy and extremely domestic. Green didn’t look like your ordinary cook with his low-riding jeans and white wife beater. He had a shiny silver link chain riding low on his throat that made the jet-black tribal art covering his neck stand out even more. His sleeve of colorful floral tattoos was on full display, his usual white t-shirt hanging out of his back pocket. Turning dark eyes in his direction, Green motioned with his head to the stool next to Ruxs. Those two were so opposite, but similar. Ruxs’ fair skin, buzz cut, and pale eyes, juxtaposed with Green’s tan, tatted-up skin and dark brown hair that did what it wanted to do like Steele’s did.

  “Just in time. You like sausage or bacon?” Green asked, flipping the thick pieces of bread in the expensive-looking frying pan.

  Steele rubbed his hand over his stubble. “Um, both, actually.”

  “Coming right up,” Green said with his back to him.

  Steele watched Green pile his plate up with several pieces of bacon and about eight sausage links next to two heavenly slices of fluffy French toast. He was definitely staying. “Damn, Green. I didn’t know you could cook.”

  “Well, you’ve known me less than a week.” Green laughed. “But stick around, I have many talents.”

  “Yeah, I heard, this morning,” Steele mumbled, too low for them to hear.

  “What?” Green asked, placing a tall cup of milk next to Steele’s plate.

  “Nothing.” Steele took the warm syrup and poured it over his entire plate. If the food tasted half as good as it smelled, he was in for a treat. Looking over at Ruxs’ empty plate, he didn’t doubt it. “How’d you know I don’t drink coffee?”

  Green pffted a little. “Because if you did, I would’ve seen it by now. Two days with you, and you’ve never once fixed a cup of joe.”

  Steele would have to remember he was around some competent detectives now. The kind that observed everything around them. “Do you cook too, Ruxsberg?”

  “I can burn.” Ruxs smirked, still scrolling through his phone.

  “You can burn, alright,” Green confirmed huskily, winking at his lover while refilling Ruxs’ coffee mug without being asked. Ruxs blushed, looking bashfully at his partner.

  Steele groaned, taking a large gulp of cold milk. What had he gotten himself into? It sure was entertaining, if nothing else. He’d never seen a gay couple as macho as them behave like this. Green serving his guy. But after what Steele witnessed this morning? Shit, he’d probably get up and make his guy the best damn bagel and cream cheese he could if he was woken up like that. Good sex could make you do those things.

 

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