Chip knows Dawson is gay like him, out but not loud about it. Maybe that’s why he finds himself confessing a few of his desires to the man. Dawson suggests Chip check out the Bloody Rose if that’s the kind of thing Chip wants.
Can Chip admit just how far his needs go to himself and make the trek to the Bloody Rose?
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Evil Plot Bunny
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Excerpt:
Chapter One
Chip McMullen sat at the bar, nursing his beer, rolling one shoulder. He’d had a long day, but a damned good one. He and Sam had made a collar they’d been working for months. Months. Unfortunately, in that month, the crazy fuck had killed two more girls, and in the arrest, Chip had taken a bullet to the vest. Sore.
Dawson Sorenson from Vice pulled up to the stool next to Chip’s, and asked Petey behind the bar for a boilermaker.
Chip nodded in greeting. He and Daws had met a number of times. The guy was decent, even if Vice was messing with another of his and Sam’s cases.
Petey put the drinks on the bar, and Daws handed over his cash then dumped his whiskey into the beer and downed it.
“Bad day?” Chip wasn’t sure why he asked; it seemed like the nice thing to do.
Daws shrugged. “Sometimes the perps make you lose your faith in humanity, you know?”
“Yeah. I get that.” He understood.
“Yeah, you look a little rough around the edges yourself.”
He nodded. “Got my guy, though.” Took that motherfucker off the streets.
“Good one. I’ll toast to that once I get another beer.” Daws motioned Petey for another.
Chip nodded, sipping his drink, jonesing on the burn.
When Daws had his beer, he clicked it against Chip’s glass. “To catching the bad guys.”
“A-fucking-men.” He slammed the rest back.
Daws drank his beer far more slowly than he’d slammed back the boilermaker, taking only a mouthful now.
They didn’t talk; they sat side-by-side, almost ignoring each other. They both had another beer. Daws started to sprawl, looking relaxed and easy.
“Fuck, I’m glad I’m off for a few days after tomorrow.” Chip could do paperwork hung over. He tried not to think about the other unsolveds on his desk. One in particular had been lingering, and they were waiting on fucking informants.
“I’ve only got a day, but I’ll take it.”
“I took four. I’ve been on for weeks.” Chip didn’t have anyone to be glad of that like his partner Sam had Sarah, but sometimes you just needed to decompress. To forget.
“Sounds like they’ve been rough weeks, too. You got something good planned?”
“Nah. Me and my fuckbuddy, we split up.” He wasn’t in the closet, but he wasn’t flaming. Still, he knew Daws was as queer as he was.
“That sucks, man. Or should that be, doesn’t suck?” Daws gave him a wink.
“Yeah, yeah, tell me about it.”
“They got this newfangled thing these days called porn on DVD. You might give it a try, what with the lack of fuckbuddy and all.”
He slowly, carefully, deliberately flipped Daws off. The man laughed. Chip chuckled, then the sound turned into an honest belly laugh.
“There we go. Now the day is better.”
“No shit on that, Daws.”
Daws nodded, his gaze travelling over Chip’s body. He chuckled, flexed for Daws, then winked playfully. Daws’ lips twisted into a half smile. Still, the look had been admiring.
It had him asking, “Man, you want to share a pepperoni or something? I got to drive home.”
“I could eat a slice or two. Could drive you home if you need, too.”
“You been hitting it, too.” He raised one hand at Petey behind the bar. “Pepperoni, man. We’ll be at a booth. My tab.”
“You got it. Another round, too?” Petey asked.
Chip nodded. “One more all around. Let’s go sit.”
Daws followed him, then sprawled his big body out on the bench seat across from Chip. “So what will you do with your downtime?”
“I don’t know. I…” He wanted to… Shit. His mind skittered away from the thought.
It was quiet a moment then Daws bumped a foot against his leg. “What?”
“Huh?” He tried for innocent and confused.
“You were about to impart your wonderful and amazing plans for your four day leave with me.”
“Oh, shit. I got no plans.” He stuck his tongue out. “I have wishes.”
“Yeah? Tell me what you wish for, Chip.”
Chip chuckled. What did he wish for? Shit. He wanted someone to fucking want him, wanted to take it, deep and hard. He wanted to be forced to belong to someone for a little while.
One of Daws’ eyebrows went up, honest curiosity in the man’s eyes.
“Sorry. Sorry, I just… I need some quality time with some stroke fic and my hand, I think.”
“Missing that fuckbuddy, eh?”
“Missing fucking. The buddy, less so.”
Daws laughed. “You like doing or being done to, man?”
His cheeks felt like they were going to catch on fire. There was no way he was answering that question honestly. No way. God, if it got out that he bottomed…not to mention the way he wanted to bottom.
Daws had that eyebrow up in his hairline thing down. “Talking to you is like an interrogation, man.”
“Well, Christ, man. No one’s ever asked me that before!”
Daws blinked at him. “Not even the fuckbuddy?”
“No.” There was a reason he was an ex-fuckbuddy.
“That’s actually pretty sad.”
Chip rolled his eyes. “Do you get asked a lot?”
“Nope. People make assumptions because of my looks.”
“You mean…” Hot? Tanned? What?
“I guess because I’m tall and imposing.” Daws shrugged. “Of course, they’re right.”
Chip chuckled, nodded. “And here I thought you were going to say they thought you bottomed because you’re skinny.”
“Don’t let the skinniness fool you. I’m plenty strong. You don’t have to be built like a Mac truck to be able to take down a perp.” Daws smiled, the look a little dangerous rather than happy. “More than one asshole has made that mistake.”
“Hey, I don’t judge. You skinny fucks are better at running. I’m better at tackling.” Taking down perps the hard way.
“You’re a stud. I’ll give you that. I guess folks make assumptions about which way you fuck, too. Are they right?” Daws clearly wasn’t letting this go.
Chip caught himself shaking his head and forced himself to stop. Damn it.
Daws must have caught it, though. “Never judge a book by its cover, eh?”
“Yeah. It’s a thing.” He let himself growl a little. “Don’t mean I can’t do my job, either.”
“I never said it did.” Daws leaned in. “I’m queer, too, remember? I know who you fuck and how it’s got nothing to do with the job.” He sat back again. “Besides, I’ve seen a lot of weird shit in Vice, and it’s got little to do with a man’s job.”
“No shit?” Chip smiled as they got their next round of drinks. “Do tell.”
Sean
smut fixes everything
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