The Incident

by Xavier Axelson

  "No, it's like right by your mouth, on the right," Michael said.

  Somewhere a night bird called out and the only reply was the incessant symphony coming from the insects in the neighboring woods, but Michael didn't hear anything except his own tormented thoughts clashing against his physical desires. Sweat had begun to run down his back and he shivered as he felt his spine twitch with excitement.

  "Did I get it?" Angel asked, making another swipe at his face.

  Michael leaned in, his hands shaking, the pie plate feeling slippery in his other hand. "Here," he said as he pressed a shaking finger against Angel's cheek. "Right here." The last word was more a pant as he wiped away the offending chocolate.

  Michael thought he saw something in Angel's eyes when he touched him but he wasn't sure. Although he wanted Angel more than words, he was terrified that what he thought he saw wasn't real.

  "Mikey," Angel breathed, coming closer. He put a hand on Michael's arm and pulled him close. "Do it. Whatever you're thinking, do it."

  "I can't," Michael whispered.

  Angel leaned so close that their lips were just about touching. "I'll make it easy on you." Angel ran his tongue over Michael's lips. "Just do it."

  Michael felt the world beginning to slide sideways, and somewhere he heard the sound of something breaking.

  Is this real?

  His mind screamed for him to stop, to pull away, but Angel's smell, his breath so close was making it hard to move, to breathe, to think. Before he could answer his raging thoughts, he found himself kissing Angel.

  When their lips met, thoughts that had so long haunted him were silent. Angel's arms were around him, and in return, he pulled Angel into his embrace. For a second he thought he might begin to cry. This was what he had wanted, what had been missing. It was the first time he'd felt authentic since the accident and he wanted it to go on forever. Angel pulled away when their tongues met.

  "Mikey." Angel stared hard into Michael's eyes as he spoke. "Mikey," he said again but before Michael could respond, Angel lowered his head and pulled away. Michael reached for him, then pulled back.

  Say something! Michael's mind screamed as Angel headed to his car parked a few feet away, got in and started it.

  "I'm gonna just stay here tonight, I think," Michael said, his voice catching. He couldn't say what he truly felt and the pain of denying his feelings made his stomach turn. He knew the car ride back to his place would be more than either of them could handle.

  Angel nodded. He was gripping the steering wheel hard. "Tell your mom for me that I'm sorry about the plate."

  Michael looked down at the shards of broken plate and mashed up pie on the ground. When he looked up, Angel was speeding down the dirt road that led to the main street.

  *****

  The next evening Michael arrived at work to find that Angel had called out. He felt a panic begin to rise in the back of his mind. Why? The word kept repeating itself as he made his way down the hallway past the Sergeant's office.

  "Hey, Carmac, come here a minute."

  Michael was tempted to ignore the voice, but when he heard his Sergeant call him again, he stopped and turned around.

  Sergeant Kinter dismissed a rookie officer he had been talking to, more likely bawling him out. Michael could tell by the kid's face that he had probably just been reamed. "You wanna tell me why Angel ain't here? You and that joker have been asking for hours, I give you both an extra shift and he calls out!"

  Michael could hear the angry frustration in Kinter's voice. He swallowed hard. Why had Angel not shown up? Angel knew they had agreed to work the extra shift, even though it meant they had to work the next afternoon.

  "No, Sir, no idea. I didn't know he called in." Even as he said it, he could feel his stomach drop. Fuck, what have I done? He'd probably lost Angel with one kiss—one stupid, incredible kiss.

  Michael felt Kinter look him up and down, searching for any trace of a lie. Michael did his best to look straight ahead and not flinch, blink, or betray anything that was going on inside.

  "You two probably should've been separated a long time ago. I heard you were both at Reggie's stag yesterday. Anything you want to tell me?" There was a knock on the door. Michael watched as Kinter gestured for the officer to enter.

  "Your wife is on the phone, Sergeant," Fitzgerald said. He had also been at Reggie's stag. Michael wondered who it was that had given Kinter the lowdown.

  "Jesus Christ, tell her I'll call her back." Kinter dismissed Fitzgerald with a brusque wave then waited for him to close the door before continuing. "Angel and you better start watching yourselves. You better watch yourself, Carmac. All eyes are on you to see if you're gonna crack, so if you need help, now's the time to ask for it. You need more time with the shrink? We've got a new one starting next week."

  Michael shook his head. "No, Sergeant, I'm good."

  Kinter whistled through his teeth. "You sure about that? You got all up on Reggie's soon-to-be brother-in-law at that stag. What were you even doing at a fucking stag party around all that booze? Were you drinking?"

  Michael started to protest but Kinter held up his hand. "I heard Angel had to pry you off him for calling you a name, and you're standing here telling me you're okay?" He made another sound. "You're a good cop, Carmac, a damn good cop, but that shooting got in your brain, son, and I hope to God you can get your head straight about it soon. I'm thinking you are gonna go back to the shrink as soon as possible."

  Michael started to protest again but stopped when he saw the look on Kinter's face.

  "That's all, Carmac. It's not up for debate." Kinter picked up his phone and started to dial.

  Michael turned to leave but not before Kinter said, "And if you see or hear from Angel, you tell him he better have a damn good excuse besides a hangover as to why he didn't report for duty today."

  "Yes, Sir," Michael said loud enough to ensure Kinter heard him.

  "One more thing. You're on desk detail tonight with the new kid that was just in here…Joe Smitty."

  Michael was barely able to stop from shaking his head. Instead, he nodded and shut Kinter's door.

  *****

  The station was thankfully quiet. During the week, it wasn't uncommon for there to be only two officers on desk detail. He wasn't sure if he had the patience to deal with the rookie all night by himself.

  Michael pulled at his over-starched shirt collar that felt unusually tight. Damn thing was irritating the hell out of him—or maybe it was his nerves driving him crazy. How could Angel not show up? Would he request to change partners? Should Michael put in a request to save Angel the trouble? Even as his mind traveled up and down the sides of each question, the pervading word that echoed behind each question was why? Why did he have to kiss Angel? He should have held back, even though Angel seemed to want it. He shouldn't have given in. The other startling thing that pushed Michael to once again pull at his collar was the sinking feeling in his stomach that he had lost not only a partner but also a friend. Would Angel ever be able to face him again?

  He rifled through papers, stood up, and walked around. He couldn't sit still and his concentration wasn't where it needed to be. He could feel Smitty looking at him. Why wouldn't he? Michael was pacing around like an animal caught in a cage. He needed to pull himself together, splash some water on his face.

  Fuck, he would have to pass Kinter's office on the way to the john. Why hadn't Kinter left yet? Michael looked down the hallway that led to the bathroom and could see Fitzgerald leaning in Kinter's office doorway.

  "Boot licker," Michael said under his breath as he heard Fitzgerald laugh loudly at something Kinter said. Michael felt Smitty's eyes on him. "What?" he said angrily. He immediately felt bad for snapping when he saw the hurt look on the kid's face.

  "Nothing," Smitty said sheepishly. "I thought you said something," he added then looked down at his papers.

  Michael wanted to reply but couldn't. He hadn't meant it. Shit, fuck! His head was spinning
and all he could do was think about Angel.

  "I'm gonna use the bathroom," he said and managed a weak smile at Smitty, but the kid didn't look up. "Just gonna be us two tonight. Kinter's feeling the budget cuts and making sure we do, too," he added lamely and this time Smitty nodded, but still didn't look up.

  Michael gave up and headed down the hall to the bathroom. Fitz and Kinter were still at it as he passed, and neither acknowledged him with more than a nod. Fitz at least smiled, but the guy always had a smile on his face. Kinter's flinty glare hadn't softened since their earlier meeting.

  "Go home," Michael said under his breath as he pushed open the bathroom door. Why had he kissed Angel? Why hadn't he just not done it? The thought of Angel being as close to him as he had been, his mouth close, his whisper… Hadn't he wanted it as much as Michael or had he just been fucking with him?

  There was no one else in the bathroom and the smell of fresh urinal cake was overwhelming. Michael stood in front of the urinal and undid his pants. Even before he pulled his cock from his boxers, he felt himself begin to grow hard. His hands fumbled against his erection. He wanted to come, wanted to stroke himself.

  "Hey, Carmac."

  Michael quickly put his cock away in time to see Fitzgerald come in and enter a stall behind him.

  "You on duty for the carnival?" Fitzgerald asked from behind the stall door.

  Michael hurriedly made his way over to the sink, hoping Fitzgerald hadn't seen anything, and began washing his hands until he felt his boner begin to ease. "Yeah, but only during the day." He turned the water off then reached for a paper towel. "You?"

  "Yeah, I'm on it. Douglas and I get to haul the drunks in. Damned Luce… He gotta get his carnival in every year, don't he? Gotta make sure the townies see him putting the kids on the fire truck for pictures."

  Harold Luce was the local Fire Chief and was known to be a little more politically minded than most, and the natural rivalry between the police and the fire department was never more heated than during carnival season. Most cops felt Luce used the carnival as a way to manipulate town officials to give his department special treatment. Michael didn't care one way or the other.

  "Whatever, Fitz. I got bigger fish to fry. I don't give two shits what Luce does. I'm sure they say the same about us every time we sponsor a pancake breakfast or blood drive. It's all the same."

  "Guess so," Fitzgerald said from behind the stall door. "Just you and the rookie on desk tonight? I thought Angel was supposed to be here with you and him."

  "Yup," Michael managed as he headed to the door, "I thought so, too."

  "You leaving, Carmac?"

  "Yeah," Michael said, trying to sound casual.

  "Well, have a good one. Take it easy," Fitzgerald called back.

  "You too. Tell Kelly I said hello," Michael said coldly as he walked out and let the door close behind him. Fucking Fitz!

  The thought of returning to the front and sitting with Smitty seemed overwhelming. He couldn't do it. He needed a break, needed to be somewhere no one could look at him.

  "I'm gonna eat. Be back in an hour?" Michael called out as he passed Smitty. They didn't really take breaks, but he knew Smitty wouldn't say anything, "I'm right outside if Kinter needs me."

  His mother had packed him food A huge portion of leftover pot roast waited in a small cooler she had packed for him. He grabbed the cooler from the break room, and on an impulse, headed out the front doors then walked down the hill that led away from the station where there were a couple of old picnic benches that had been left from when the station had been an elementary school years before. It was far enough from the road that Michael could still see the cars, but they wouldn't be able to see him.

  It was a warm night and the scent of wild lilac was in the air. He heard the insects calling. They had been calling last night when Angel and he had kissed, when he should have pulled away. He couldn't eat. He made some half-hearted attempts, but he couldn't swallow anything. A couple of cars passed. He could see their lights from where he was sitting. He even heard voices coming from the parking lot at the station, probably a couple of officers coming in from patrol. The world was moving. He could hear it, smell it, but for some reason, he felt disconnected from it all. He wanted a drink.

  "You on break?"

  "Huh?" Michael spun around, his hand instinctively going to his gun.

  There was Angel, staring at him, hands up. "Don't shoot, officer. I'm unarmed."

  With a tense sigh, Michael fell back down on the bench. "You fucking idiot, what are doing here?"

  "We take dinner breaks now? If Kinter knew you were out here eating, he'd kick your ass," Angel said as he looked around. "The old bastard tucked away in his office?"

  "What the fuck are you doing here? How'd you even know I was down here? If fucking Kinter catches you, your ass is…" Michael couldn't even verbalize what the outcome would be if anyone, especially Kinter, caught Angel at the station—especially when he had called out sick.

  "I drove past and thought I saw someone sitting out here. I had a hunch it was you. I figured if anyone would be sitting alone on a bench in the dark, it'd be my partner," Angel said jokingly.

  Michael's heart began to pound as it always did when he was alone with Angel. "Why'd you call out?" The words sounded hollow. He wanted so much to ask something else but couldn't.

  "I needed to think," Angel said as he came closer.

  Angel's familiar scent all but blocked the wild lilac. Michael heard Angel's breathing, and his own heart felt as if it were going to explode right out of his chest.

  "You know, Mikey, I don't know what it is, but sometimes, when we're together, alone…" Angel paused and Michael could see he was struggling.

  "Angel, I—" Michael started to stay, but Angel held up a hand.

  "I feel things for you that really fuck with my head. Last night I wanted you to do it." Angel took a deep breath before he continued. "I wanted you to kiss me, then you did and I kind of lost my shit. I never told you this, but I've been with guys before—not many, but a couple."

  Michael felt Angel's eyes on him. His partner was nervous. Michael could see him tapping his thigh. "I stopped messing with dudes once I got into the academy and thought I could control my feelings, but then I started noticing the way you would look at me—or not look at me—and I started getting those feelings again." Angel moved closer.

  "Mikey, don't say anything else." Angel dropped to his knees before him, and before he could say anything, he felt Angel's hands push his legs apart. Michael let out a moan that surprised both of them—deep, guttural, as if something had been set free from deep within him. Angel squeezed his bulge through his pants, pressed his face against the stiff fabric of the uniform. "You feel so good, Mikey," he whispered, his mouth pressed against Michael's stiff cock.

  "Take it out," Michael managed, pulling his shirt from his pants.

  Angel leaned back and fumbled with Michael's belt keeper. "Jesus, just getting to your dick is like breaking and entering. I hate uniforms."

  Michael pushed his hand away and deftly undid his duty belt.

  "You hate anything that takes effort," Michael retorted.

  "I don't hate you," Angel replied.

  "Fuck off." Michael laughed. "Can you handle the zipper?"

  Angel grabbed Michael's waistband and pulled. "Let's see." The sound of Michael's zipper coming down seemed loud and both men looked around quickly, but only the insects humming in the trees and the summer moon took any notice.

  "You're so hard, Mikey," Angel whispered. "Look at your fucking cock."

  Michael's dick poked up through the fly of his boxers. "You don't know how bad I want you," he said and immediately began to blush. "I can't help it.'" The words came out before he could think to stop them and shocked him.

  "I can tell," Angel said, gripping Michael's cock and squeezing it until Michael began to shake.

  "Fuck," Angel breathed, squeezing again, this time moving his hands slowly down t
o the base of Michael's hard shaft. "It's been so long since I've felt another guy's cock. Nothing feels like this." He began stroking it, slow at first then faster, all the while watching Michael. "You're wet, Mikey. I thought I pre-cum a lot. Shit, you got me beat."

  "Angel." Michael grunted, a plea that Angel responded to by taking Michael's dripping cock in his mouth. "Fuck yeah," Michael said as Angel slid it up and down his shaft. It had been so long since anyone had touched him like this, so long since he'd felt anything except desperation and loneliness, that Angel's attention was overwhelming. For a moment, he wanted to pull back and actually tried to, but Angel gripped his ass and held him firmly in place until he relaxed again.

  Angel pulled his mouth off Michael long enough to say, "Don't you fucking move." Angel pushed him hard against the bench. "You stay right there." He pulled one hand off Michael's heaving chest and let the other stay anchored. "I think it's time you fucking blow that load."

  Michael couldn't move. Angel's thick forearm held him down just hard enough that he had to submit to his partner's hungry mouth. He was helpless to do anything but relent to the pleasure he had so long denied himself.

  Angel stroked Michael's cock with his free hand, his tongue swirling around the swollen head, then behind it. Angel pulled off to say, "You wanna shoot in my mouth?" The idea was so unbelievable and hot that all Michael could do was buck his hips and groan. It was Angel's forceful insistence that Michael give himself over to his own pleasure that really sent Michael over the edge.

  "Angel!" He pulled his arm across his mouth in a final effort to muffle his orgasm.

  Angel began to stroke and suck faster, urging his release, luring it out from where it had been nearly forgotten. It was perfection, perfect black velvety perfection when Michael came. There was nothing, no nightmares, no memory, just incredible release.

  He pushed Angel's head down hard on his spurting cock and, even with his arm firmly across his mouth, he knew he called out into the night, adding his animalistic growl to the symphony that seemed to all but stop in that one perfect moment. They stayed as they were for several seconds, both unwilling to let the moment go. When Michael heard the sounds of the world return, he pulled away and Angel released him.