Vodka & Handcuffs

by Brandon Witt

  Probably.

  He kept seeing the other officer’s hand on the handle of his gun. Officer Holland. It had just been a show of force. An intimidation move. Nothing more than the hollow act of a bully.

  Probably.

  Vahin wasn’t sure he would have been able to keep his cool for much longer. He didn’t think he would’ve fought back if they’d tried to get him in the backseat of the cop car, but he wasn’t entirely certain of that.

  But Pat had shown up. All the could’ves or might’ves were pointless and did nothing more than add tension to his already stressed-out system.

  And despite his best attempts, he could hear his father’s voice as clear as it had been seventeen years ago. That his choices would lead to death, to shame. That had simply been about him being gay… well, nothing simple about that, but before he’d become a bartender or even had his first sip of alcohol.

  He was proving every one of his family’s words to be true.

  It was that thought that kept him from finding a different bar, any bar other than Mary’s, and getting lost to day-drinking. After driving past several, Vahin turned into the grocery and parked his car. If not alcohol, then food.

  At the checkout, he stared at the ingredients in the cart. Lamb. Cardamom. Turmeric. Ginger. Garam masala. On and on. All these years later, his mother was still with him. Even after her rejection. What he’d been planning to make hadn’t been a surprise; he hadn’t wandered through the store magically picking out spices, but neither had he made the connection to home as clearly as he did at that moment. It was nearly enough to cause him to leave the cart and go grab a burger instead.

  He didn’t.

  Though whether it was comfort or punishment he sought, he wasn’t certain.

  HOURS LATER, with the aromatic spices filling his apartment, Vahin still wasn’t sure what sort of self-abuse he’d set himself upon. He hadn’t shed tears, though they felt near. There’d been some wetness during the chopping of two onions, but that didn’t count.

  With every fresh ingredient, he relived that day, so many years before. The relief he’d felt when he’d confided in his oldest brother. The betrayal after his brother had run to their mother and father. The shock when his oh-so-modern and newly Americanized parents put their reputation in the homeland above any affection for their youngest son.

  The years contracted while he cooked and made it impossible for Vahin to separate his eighteen-year-old self from the thirty-five-year-old man he’d become. The closer the meal came to being complete, the more he gradually succeeded in placing those memories and hurts back into the hidden closets of his soul.

  When Marlon texted that he’d left work and would be at Vahin’s in less than an hour, Vahin had his hands messy with arranging the layers of rice and lamb curry, which was the only reason he didn’t immediately call and ask for details. Actually he also wanted to see Marlon’s face and expressions when he spoke. Just in case he was trying to sugarcoat something.

  “HOLY FUCK.” Marlon pulled back from his welcome kiss much sooner than Vahin wanted and looked toward the kitchen. He took a deep breath and sighed before turning back to Vahin. “You cook?”

  “Yeah, I do. It’s been a while, but I felt like I needed it today.”

  Marlon breathed in again. “Please tell me that I can get in your pants and in your oven tonight.”

  Vahin laughed. “I don’t think you meant that how it sounded.”

  Marlon kissed him, longer this time. Long enough that Vahin’s body relaxed for the first time that day. Long enough that after a third kiss, he felt Marlon’s stiff form mold against him as well.

  “Man, I needed you.” Marlon rested his forehead against Vahin’s, then straightened suddenly. “This. I mean. I needed this today. You, the food, the kisses, the….”

  Vahin laughed again. “Freak yourself out there, Officer?”

  Marlon looked sheepish, an expression Vahin was surprised he was capable of.

  “I needed it too.” Vahin gave him a quick kiss, then pulled back. “As much as I want to strip you naked, if I don’t tend to the food right now, it’s going to be ruined, and I spent way too much money and time for that to happen.” Vahin moved away from Marlon and headed back to the kitchen, still speaking over his shoulder. “Plus, I’m going to grill you on everything that happened today. I need details.”

  Marlon followed him, started to take a seat, then paused. “Can I help with anything?”

  “Nah, just sit. The rest is easy, and we’re close to being done.” Vahin gestured to the fridge. “There’s beer if you want some.” He grinned at the look of relief on Marlon’s face.

  “God, yes.” Marlon walked over and opened the refrigerator. “One for you?”

  “Yes, please.” He’d been tempted to have one while he was cooking, but he’d been afraid he wouldn’t stop. With Marlon there, it felt different. He took a swig after Marlon twisted off the cap and handed him a bottle. He started to ask about what Marlon had found out, but Marlon spoke first.

  “What are you making? It smells amazing in here. Kinda like Christmas or something.”

  “That’s probably just the spices. It’s lamb biryani. Something my mom used to make all the time. She used goat every once in a while, but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that.”

  Marlon scrunched up his nose before he adjusted his expression back to neutral with a laugh. “Sorry about that. I’m glad you chose lamb, not that goat doesn’t sound delic…. Actually, no, I can’t lie about that. I’m glad you chose lamb.”

  Vahin almost wished he’d gone with the goat, even though he would have had to go out of his way to get the meat. It would’ve been worth it to see Marlon force himself to eat it.

  Taking his first swig of beer, Marlon crossed the kitchen and opened the oven door to peek inside. “So any other interesting ingredients I should know about?”

  Vahin waited until Marlon looked over at him before responding. “Oh, you know, some pigeon livers.” He couldn’t hold back a laugh at the horror that spread across Marlon’s face. “No. Just lamb. You’ll be fine, you big baby. It’s delicious. You’ll love it.”

  Marlon narrowed his eyes skeptically. “I think I might need to see your recipe.”

  “There isn’t one.” Vahin tapped his temple, then pointed to one of the barstools at the kitchen island. “Enough about the food. Sit and tell me about your day. I need to know what to expect.”

  Marlon’s face fell as he moved to take a seat.

  “Oh shit. It’s bad, huh?”

  “No!” Marlon raised a hand and nearly knocked over his beer he’d set on the island. He steadied it and looked back up at Vahin. “No. Nothing bad. But nothing definitive. I know you’re wanting answers, but I don’t have those for you. And I won’t for a bit, probably.”

  “Okay.” Vahin forced himself to get plates and silverware as he spoke, trying to keep things normal. Trying not to panic. “Then tell me what you do know.”

  Marlon took another swig of beer, and Vahin considered yanking it away to get the man to start talking. After he swallowed, he leveled his eyes on Vahin. “I talked to the chief. It’s in your favor that you asked for an ID before the minor actually took a drink. It’s also good that the ID was a passable fake. It didn’t have an unreal age, like one hundred or something. It also helps that Andrew didn’t….”

  Vahin bugged his eyes out as Marlon’s voice trailed off. “Andrew didn’t what?”

  Marlon hesitated longer, thoughts playing across his face so quickly Vahin couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

  “What is it, Marlon?”

  “This is a gray area.” He sighed. “Actually, no, it isn’t. I shouldn’t be talking about any of this with you, with anyone. And if I didn’t know Andrew did this because of me, I wouldn’t even dream of it, not even with you.”

  Not even with you. Like Vahin had already crossed, truly crossed, into a special category that received special treatment in Marlon’s world. The words ease
d Vahin’s worry and made him really look at Marlon again, beyond his handsome face and the potential help he offered. Though it had been a matter of days—stress-filled days—he knew Marlon had crossed that line within him as well. Vahin inspected his emotions a split second, judged them to be genuine, then spoke as he laid down the silverware and placed his hand over Marlon’s forearm.

  “I’m not going to repeat what you tell me, even to Steven and the others, if you don’t want me to. But you also don’t have to tell me anything at all. That’s not why you’re here. That’s not why I want you here. It’s not why I want to cook for you or have you in my bed.”

  “I know that. I wasn’t trying to imply—”

  “I know,” Vahin cut him off.

  Marlon studied him for a moment, then smiled softly. He covered Vahin’s hand with his own, his palm cold from the beer bottle. Their gazes held. Unspoken promises—promises that were coming too soon but were there nonetheless—were made. Finally Marlon broke their stare and cleared his throat.

  “It’s in our favor that Andrew didn’t have any sanction to conduct a sting on you or Mary’s. There’s a lot of ties that protect Andrew, however. The chief isn’t sure if those ties will protect him this time, or if the tickets against you and Mary’s will be upheld. Andrew’s involvement could help or hurt their validity. It depends on which judge gets them. If they even get that far.”

  Vahin tried to follow Marlon’s meaning, and thought he did, for the most part. “So you think there’s a chance that it all might go away?”

  Marlon nodded slowly. “Yeah. There’s that chance. And I think it’s a chance I’d even put money on, but it’s not a sure thing.”

  “Okay. Well….” Vahin wiped his hands over his thighs, though there was nothing to get off. He wanted to ask a billion more questions. To get Marlon to make promises that were beyond his ability to make. “Well, I guess that means I have to wait and see.”

  “Yeah.” Marlon didn’t finish until Vahin met his eyes. “We have to wait and see. You’re not in this alone.”

  Though Vahin knew it would be his future affected most by the outcome, he really didn’t feel alone. He felt less alone than he had in years, even with all the love from Mary’s. He turned away, swiping quickly at his eyes and grabbed potholders before opening the oven. “Dinner’s ready.”

  MARLON HAD taken his first bite of food and let out a nearly orgasmic groan that didn’t seem faked before Vahin realized how self-absorbed he’d been. “Oh, shit, Marlon. I wasn’t even thinking. I’m so sorry.”

  Marlon cocked an eyebrow, his mouth full.

  “Today was your first day back after being outed to everyone. Are you okay?”

  Marlon finished chewing. “It was a little tense, to say the least, but nobody said anything. Which I kinda wish they would’ve, just to get it over with. But I didn’t say anything either. I spent most of the day with Andrew, anyway. And what was even stranger is he didn’t mention you once. I thought it was going to be an entire day of gloating and backhanded statements to try to get a reaction. But nothing.”

  “Really?” Vahin wasn’t sure what to make of it but didn’t have long to consider before Marlon set down his fork.

  “Oh! I forgot.” He popped up out of his seat and went over to his discarded jacket and began digging through the pockets. “I stopped by a place before coming here.”

  “Well, I hope it wasn’t to get dessert if you stuffed it in your pocket.”

  Marlon grinned at him. “Well, kinda.” He pulled a black plastic bag out of his pocket, then emptied the contents into his hand before holding it up.

  “What the—” The furry purple item took a moment to register, and then Vahin burst out with a laugh. “No way!”

  That hesitant expression crossed Marlon’s face again, the one that seemed so out of place. “Well, you’ve been asking to, so….”

  “Marlon, you fucking have a pair of handcuffs with you all the time. You didn’t need to go buy a pair. Especially that kind.”

  “I can’t make myself use the real ones. They’re for work, and it seems….” His words faded off, and he glanced toward the fuzzy handcuffs, then grinned at Vahin. “What? You don’t like them? They had pink ones, if you’d rather me take them back and get those.”

  God, the man was adorable. Hot as fuck, but adorable. “No, purple will do just fine.”

  AFTER DINNER and after clothes had been discarded, Vahin lay on the bed as Marlon straddled him. He fastened one of the fuzzy links to the bedpost and then gripped Vahin’s wrist and pulled it toward the cuffs.

  As much as Vahin had wanted this, something in his guts twisted, and he could feel Andrew’s fingers digging into his elbow. He pulled his wrist free.

  “You okay?” Marlon looked down at him, concern in his voice.

  Vahin felt so stupid; this was fun. It was sexy. He wanted nothing more than to be under Marlon’s complete control. He met Marlon’s gaze. “Sorry. Can we wait on those? Maybe when my brush with the law is over?”

  Marlon’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh God. I didn’t even think. I’m so sorry. I—”

  Vahin cut him off by using his free hand to press against Marlon’s ass and shove Marlon’s crotch into Vahin’s face. Tilting his head up, he engulfed Marlon’s cock in his mouth, not taking his eyes from Marlon’s.

  “Oh fuck, yes.” Marlon moaned, released the handcuffs, gripped the headboard, and pushed himself farther into Vahin’s mouth.

  The cuffs hung on the bedpost the rest of the night, making muffled thuds occasionally, but completely forgotten.

  FOUR DAYS of near perfection. It was almost like being back with Sam, except with no humor or easy camaraderie. Definitely no friendship. Still, the past shifts with Andrew had been better than Marlon had thought possible.

  There’d been no double-meaning insults or borderline racist comments. He treated the people they stopped with near respectful, if somewhat dismissive, behavior. Andrew hadn’t even insulted Marlon’s driving. Exactly like he’d been the day after seeing Marlon and Vahin together.

  It was weird, and it made Marlon nervous.

  Marlon was sure the case against Vahin and Mary’s would be dropped, more confident than he’d let on to Vahin, just in case the worst happened. Maybe Andrew believed the same as well and was trying to smooth things over in advance.

  Whatever Andrew’s reason, it was driving Marlon crazy. Bad enough that none of his fellow officers had so much as mentioned his outing. Most were giving him a wider berth than normal, and a couple had cuffed him on the shoulder or back in what Marlon took to be a supportive acknowledgment. But he’d been prepared for all-out war with Andrew, to have each shift be nothing more than constant arguing, maybe even culminating in Andrew finally losing his shit and doing something to get dismissed over.

  By six that evening, Marlon pulled their cruiser into the gated police station parking lot, claimed their normal spot, and told himself to bite his tongue. Instead, he pulled the keys from the ignition and turned to Andrew. “How did you know Vahin worked at Mary’s?”

  Andrew had already opened the door and had one foot out of the car. He paused midmotion, long enough it was clear he was debating whether to do this or not. In a matter of moments, he pulled his foot back in, shut the door, and leaned back in his seat. He turned to Marlon with an innocent expression and cocked his brow.

  Marlon waited for a response, but Andrew gave none.

  “So, what? You’re going to pretend you didn’t go after Vahin because of me?”

  Andrew’s gaze flicked to Marlon’s chest.

  Of course. In a smooth, irritated motion, Marlon unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car. He unfastened his body camera and bulletproof vest, and made a show of placing them on the hood of the car. He finished it off by pulling out his badge and tossing it on top of the pile before getting back in and shutting the door with a slam. “Better?”

  Andrew’s lips curved into a partial grin, suddenly looking more like
himself. “I didn’t ask you to do that. I’m not worried about being recorded.”

  That’s a first. Marlon was able to keep the thought to himself, knowing it wouldn’t help to start off with sarcasm. He tried again. “How did you know Vahin was at Mary’s?”

  Andrew considered things for so long Marlon decided he was going to play it all off as happenstance. He didn’t. “After I saw you on Santa Fe, my date got a craving for dessert, so we went to D Bar. It was amazing.”

  Marlon waited, then grew impatient. “What does that have to do with it?”

  Andrew shrugged. “Well, she wasn’t quite ready, needed to let dinner settle or something, so I drove around. D Bar is on 19th, so I just hopped on over to 17th, and while we were seeing all the changes to the neighborhood, I noticed your car parked by the burger place.”

  Like he didn’t have the fucking name memorized. Marlon gritted his teeth but forced his tone to be as calm as he could make it. “So you followed me to—” Andrew opened his mouth to speak, but Marlon changed tactics. “You drove around before dessert and saw my car at Mary’s. That doesn’t explain how you knew about Vahin being their bartender.”

  He gave an exaggerated eye roll. “There’s a little thing called the Internet, Marlon. I know you’re older than me, but surely you’ve heard of it. Your… friend serving drinks is one of the main pictures on the restaurant’s home page. It seemed like he’d had a hard time finding a shirt big enough for him that day, or one with sleeves.”

  “I bet you hated looking at that.” The instant the words were out, Marlon mentally kicked himself.

  Andrew’s tone shifted from taunting to angry in an instant. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Marlon should’ve gotten out of the car and walked away. Should’ve played it cool and given an answer that would’ve de-escalated the moment. Should’ve done a million things that wouldn’t run the risk of aggravating the situation before there was a conclusion to the whole ordeal. Should’ve… but the buildup of anticipation of the past four days crashed down over him.