Bleed Blue 69: Twenty-Five Authors…One Sexy Police Station

by Anthology

  I stepped through the doors of Shady Oaks Kennel to meet up with the owners; I was with four different officers from other precincts, all looking to be matched with the right dog. The owner, Phil, gave us the long speech about how the dogs came over from the Czech Republic or Germany when they are about eleven weeks old. But their obedience training started right away, and they had the basics down by the time they arrived.

  When they came to the kennels, the trainers start work with them in obedience, agility, and teaching basic voice and hand commands. These dogs are trained to sniff out bombs, find drugs, and search out predators by using their keen sense of smell. They essentially become deadly weapons.

  Phil gave us a tour of the facility, and I was astounded at what I witnessed. Without the dogs being present, trainers would hide drugs, and as soon as the dog entered on his lead you could see the intense focus in their eyes. The trainer released the dog from the lead, and he flew like lightning to find what was hidden by the trainer. The skill blew me away.

  In another area, a man was dressed in a protective suit, and orders were given in German for the dog to attack the perp. Without hesitation, the shepherd bared his teeth and attacked the man in the suit. The dog’s grip was so tight, the man couldn’t shake him off, no matter what he did. The dog didn’t release the man until the trainer called the command for release, and then he went trotting back to sit patiently at the trainer’s side.

  After being blown away by what I had witnessed, Phil introduced us to the lead trainer, Max. All thoughts of the dogs disappeared as this six-foot-two man with chestnut hair and amber eyes stood in front of us. I had to check myself to make sure I wasn’t drooling like the dogs were. I would follow any command he gave me, including get on all fours.

  “Good afternoon, officers. My name is Max Collins, and I will be assisting you in finding you the correct partner.”

  I raised my hand, trying to think of something, anything, to say to grab his attention.

  “Yes, officer?”

  “Officer Michaels. Aaron Michaels.” Since asking him for his number wouldn’t have been the proper etiquette, I went with whatever sounded somewhat reasonable. “Will you be the one working with us and the dogs, or are we assigned to someone else? I don’t know about these guys,” I pointed my thumb toward the three other men standing next to me, “but I want to work with the best. And if you’re the lead here, I think I would want that.”

  Holy shit, Michaels. How did that verbal diarrhea taste?

  Max revealed a brilliant smile, and if I wasn’t mistaken, the color of his cheeks turned a little pink. “There are multiple trainers, but I will be the one that works with you in matching the right dog. I do help one-on-one at times as well.” He immediately looked down to his clipboard he was holding, the pink in his cheeks spread to a full-on red blush. It was perfection.

  We all moved to where the dogs were being held in their kennels. There were six of them, all standing when they heard Max’s footsteps.

  “Hello, gentlemen. You’re getting a chance to be paired with your officer. I expect you all to be on your best behavior for our guests.”

  Each one of the dogs sat quietly by the opening of their kennels, eager to get out and show off their skills. Max let one dog out at a time and took the four of us out into the training area to work with each dog. The first dog, Chopper, did exactly what he was supposed to, but kept gravitating towards Officer Ken Jones. Same thing happened with the next two dogs that came out of their kennels. I was getting a major snub, and started thinking of getting a teacup poodle and throwing it at a perp’s neck to chew off their jugular.

  “Don’t be discouraged,” Max said, having snuck up behind me as I watched the other officers and their dogs. There was a breeze, and I got a whiff of what must have been Max’s shower soap. My little officer took immediate notice and was on his way to doing a full-on salute. Stand down, buddy.

  “I was watching you with the other dogs, and I have someone I want you to meet.”

  “Is he a poodle named fluffy?” I turned and smirked.

  He chuckled and the corner of his eyes crinkled. Little Officer tapped my boxer shorts, wanting to know if this was the right time to make himself known. Absolutely not!

  “I shouldn’t say this, because I think all our dogs are amazing, but Diesel has a little something extra.”

  “Does he have an extra toe on his paw? Extra testicle for more aggression?” I asked, as I started to follow Max back to the kennels. That earned me a belly laugh, and Little Officer again rebelled against my command and started his salute. Damn him and his defiance.

  I tried to think of bloody bodies and bathrooms where people forgot to flush their shit down— anything to get my defiant dick down. We reached the last kennel in the row and a stunning-looking German Shepherd lay fast asleep on his dog bed. I took a minute to admire his beauty. He was stretched out, and his lean body was covered with a mix of black and brown shiny fur. His muzzle had more black on it, while the tips of his ears faded more towards the brow.

  Max woke Diesel with a command and the dog flew from sleep to full attention. He was even more stunning when he was standing than asleep. Max opened the kennel and attached Diesel’s lead to his collar. I just stood by, watching the interaction, and was enthralled at the connection that Diesel had with Max, something I hadn’t seen with the other dogs. Max gave him a nice long scratch behind his large ears and brought him over to me.

  “Diesel, this is Aaron. I have feeling the two of you were meant to meet.”

  Max gave the lead some slack so Diesel could come up to me. And damn if that dog didn’t know how to make a first impression: Diesel’s nose went straight into my crotch, where he snorted and snuffed.

  “Holy crap, I swear I don’t have crack in there! Well, there is a crack, but not that kind of crack!”

  With another command from Max, Diesel backed up and sat at Max’s feet. “Sorry about that. He has a tendency to get really excited when he sees someone his likes.”

  “So I’m guessing that he’s constantly in your crotch?” Oh, fucky fuck.

  Again, laughter bubbled up through him, “Well, I wouldn’t exactly say that, but we do have a good working relationship.”

  I’m now jealous of the fucking dog. I want a good working relationship with Max, in my bed.

  “Let’s take the two of you out in the arena and see how well you work together.” Diesel pulled on his lead to walk near me and I smiled, reaching down to scratch the back of his ear, the same way his other favorite person did.

  Working with Diesel was a dream, and I somehow won the jackpot, because Max took it upon himself to train us. I attributed that to his relationship with Diesel, but there were little things here and there that made me think was more than that. He even volunteered his time to go to the pet store and pick out what I would need for Diesel at home: everything from the crate he needed to sleep in, to chew toys he thought he would like. When we were picking out dog food, he gently put his hand on my lower back to guide me from the brand he called “Dog junk food,” to something that would keep Diesel healthy and strong.

  “I want to give you my cell number, just in case you need something or have any questions when you get home. It’s a pretty big transition for the both of you, so I want you to know you’ve got back up.”

  My ‘dick loves dick’ radar went on full alert with that, because I had a suspicion that he didn’t hand out his number to everyone he trained. Call it police intuition, super gaydar, whatever. Diesel was such a great dog; it was hard for me to imagine having to use Max’s number— with the exception that he’d be into phone sex—but I pocketed the number as we said our good-byes for the day. Training was far from over, but it was my and my partner’s first night together and I knew that it would go totally smooth.

  “Don’t look at me like that.” I glared at my partner, who just cocked his head and continued his intense gaze.

  His large, brown eyes spoke volumes, even whe
n nothing came out of his mouth. Sometimes the look was ruthless, menacing, and downright scary as fuck. But his eyes changed into playful and full of mischief, waiting for the perfect moment to do something he knew would hit my nerve.

  “Seriously, I can’t help it, and it’s not like I can just go up to him and say ‘hey, are you gay? Me too, let’s go out and then fuck each other into the mattress.’”

  A giant, black-tipped paw reached out, knocking my arm down and away from my face. I turned my head and glared at Diesel, who was growing more impatient by the second. He wanted to see his favorite person. That was supposed to be me; but if I were being honest, it was Max, the same man I was constantly moaning to Diesel about.

  It had become a fight for Max’s attention when we were training—Diesel would perform all his tasks on point, while I tried to strut and show off muscles, or bend over to retrieve something so Max could get an eyeful of my ass.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I looked at my partner, who had just decided to completely empty out his food bowl, scattering kibble across the kitchen floor. Much of it had turned to mush, due to the fact that Diesel decided to take a spa bath in his water dish and track water throughout my apartment.

  In the six hours I had my dog, he managed to pee on my favorite pair of running shoes, demand to be let out to piss at the exact time snow decided to come down in heaps over the city, and that he had a gourmet palate.

  He sat in-between the living room and the kitchen, his dog bowl hanging from his mouth, and a look in his eyes that said, “you’re a fucktard.” I seriously had to think about the time from the pet store to when we got home, and figure out if Max was fucking with me and switched out my dog when I wasn’t looking.

  “I’m thinking that you may have a personality disorder. I should ask the department if cognitive therapy for dogs is on my insurance plan.”

  Diesel dropped the dish from his mouth and started to whine. Then he strutted over to me and bumped his muzzle into my pants pocket. “Dude, I don’t have any treats in there, not that I would give you anything for being a fucking lunatic.” He bumped his nose against me again and whined. I reached into my pocket to empty it and show him that there was nothing in there for him, when I pulled out Max’s card.

  “Really? Are you seriously pulling all this shit so I will call him? You’re a dog, there is no way you could play me like that.” Then I considered the extent of intelligence these dogs had. They had to, if they were going to be part of a K-9 unit in the police force.

  I looked at the card, studying it. The front contained Max’s business information and the back had his scribbled handwriting with his cellphone number. I looked at my watch, which read 10:00 p.m. I looked down at Diesel. “I can’t call him this late, buddy.” Diesel let out a loud bark and trotted over to the front door and looked at the running shoes he marked earlier. He started lifting his leg. “No, Stop! I’ll call him. Put down the weapon of mass destruction.” Diesel did just that, and came back to sit next to me as if he didn’t just totally fuck with me.

  I pulled my cell phone out of my other pocket and dialed the number on the card. I closed my eyes, praying that I wasn’t waking him or interrupting him having sex with his girlfriend or boyfriend, or just jacking off. Little Officer took note of the last thought and tapped on my boxer brief, wanting to be set free.

  “Hello?” Max’s husky voice filled my ear.

  “Uh, hi Max, it’s um, Aaron Michaels. You know, the person you helped train, with Diesel.”

  A low chuckle from his end filled my ear. “How bad is his behavior?”

  “Let’s just say that it’s been interesting since we parted ways at the pet store.”

  This time, a full laugh came over the line. “I had a feeling this was going to happen. I knew you were the perfect pair.”

  “Um, how is it that we are a perfect pair if he is destroying my apartment and acting like a food diva?”

  “Did he mark anything of yours?

  How the fuck would he know that? Duh, maybe because he’s been doing this for years and knows these dogs better than they know themselves?

  “He pissed on my favorite running shoes.” I admitted.

  “He’s testing you.”

  “Excuse me? Testing me?” I walked over to the window to watch the snowflakes come down, covering the street. “Wasn’t it supposed to be that I tested him at the facility and then we decide that it’s a good match?

  “That’s only part of it. These dogs have two different personalities: One is when they are on duty, the second being when they are home and allowed to be themselves. He’s just like any other police officer, just in canine form.”

  “Yeah, okay. I usually come home, grab a beer and turn on the TV to watch some kind of sport to get my mind off the day.” That’s not exactly true. I come home, grab a beer, watch porn, jerk off, and then watch some kind of sports, but Max didn’t need those extra details.

  “It’s going to take time, You’re still building trust with each other, and by him pulling all these stunts, he’s seeing how you react under stress and pressure.

  “He’s actually like my ex-boyfriend, then, being a slob around the house. Though he never pissed on my shoes. But he did piss all over the toilet seat, and it used to annoy the shit out of me.”

  Holy fucking duck. I just outed myself to the hottest guy I’ve seen in a very long time. I covered my face with my hand and shook my head, while there was a brief pause on the phone.

  “Well, I can promise you that Diesel will be better than your ex. You’re his lifetime partner.”

  I released my hand from my face, and turned to look at my partner, who was now fast sleep on the couch. My heart squeezed at the thought that Diesel was mine until the end, and suddenly everything that happened in the past few hours just melted away.

  “If it makes you feel any better, I tried to train my ex-boyfriend to piss in the toilet instead of everywhere else. Our bathroom was a fucking slip and slide. I swear the dogs listen better than he did.”

  My eyebrows shot up and I almost dropped the phone out of my hands. He had an ex-boyfriend.

  “I…um…,” I couldn’t get words to come out of my mouth. I heard a soft chuckle come through the phone.

  “Yes, Aaron. I’m gay, too.”

  “That’s great. I mean, yay for gay.” I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head.

  “Now that we are past the uncomfortable part of the conversation, I can now ask you on a date.”

  My eyes flew open and my heart sped up. “A date? Well, um…I.”

  “Hey, Aaron, it’s totally cool if it’s a no. I knew it was kind of a long shot. I just kinda had this vibe…”

  “Yes!” I shouted, waking Diesel from his slumber. He eyed me with large mocha eyes and cocked his head, wanting to know what the excitement was about. “I would love to go out.”

  “Great. I know you’re probably busy this weekend with family stuff since it’s Christmas, but maybe the weekend after?”

  “I don’t celebrate Christmas. Well, not in the traditional sense. I’m Jewish, so I usually do Jewish Christmas: seeing a movie and eating Chinese food with friends. Nothing says Christmas like egg rolls and watching some guys blow shit up on the movie screen.”

  Another throaty chuckle came across the line. “I don’t want to take you away from traditions with friends.”

  “Are you going to be celebrating with your family? Friends?” My brows creased together. The thought of Max being alone was unsettling to me.

  “My family is in California, and I agreed to work the day after Christmas. I wanted to give a few of the others a chance to be with their families.”

  Shit. Not only was Max fucking hot, he was sweet and considerate too.

  “In that case, let me show you what it’s like to be a good Jewish boy in New York on Christmas. I’ve got a favorite dining spot and then we can see movie stars blow shit up together.”

  “That sounds great. I would love watching deat
h and destruction on Christmas.”

  It was my turn to laugh, and Diesel took that as a cue to lift himself up and stroll over to me for a scratch on the head. Fucker probably thought my good mood meant I’d forgiven him. But because I’m a big sucker, I conceded and gave him some scratches behind his ears.

  I gave Max the address to the Chinese restaurant and we agreed on a meeting time. We said our goodbyes and then I fist pumped the air in celebration. Now, I only had to make it through the next few days without losing my mind over my new furry partner.

  I couldn’t have concentrated on the movie, even if it had been the hottest porn on the big screen. Between my stomach full of food and Max looking hot as fuck during dinner, I was done for. Dinner couldn’t have gone more smoothly, as we talked about everything from Max growing up in California to my desire to join the police force.

  My hands gripped the seat handles, and I tried to shift myself in the seat because the little officer wanted to jump out, and it wasn’t to share the popcorn. While I tried to change my train of thought, I felt warmth surround my right hand. I looked down and saw Max’s hand on top of mine, lifting it and linking it with his own. All my muscles relaxed as Max rubbed my hand in his, as if he knew I was ready to jump out of the chair.

  “We can always walk out,” Max’s breath was warm on my ear.

  I turned my head and our lips were inches away from each other. “Don’t you want to see the end?” I whispered.

  He bit down on his lower lip, “I’d rather see someone else’s end.”

  I shot up from my seat, scattering the popcorn that was sitting in my lap, and held my hand out for Max to take. He let out a low laugh and took my hand. We grabbed our coats and shuffled through the aisle, excusing ourselves to the other moviegoers. We both picked up our pace and we broke through the theater doors, hand in hand.

  Max outstretched his hand to hail a cab and I wrapped myself up in my coat to avoid the winter wind. As soon as one pulled over, we climbed in, and I barely got my address out of my mouth to the driver before Max’s mouth was on mine. I didn’t give a rat’s ass if the cabbie was going to kick us out of the car, but I imagine he had probably seen it all in a city like New York.