by DJ Manly
“It doesn’t mean I can’t fantasize about it.”
Sandra grabbed Paul and pulled him over to the car. “Fantasize away, honey,” she told him. “Kick his ass. Okay,” she said, “assume the position.” She frisked him and began reading his rights.
“Do that again,” he slurred.
“One shot deal,” she muttered, pushing him in the car, “and the only action you’re going to get from this gang.”
When they got him downtown, Gian booked him. Decoteau was surprisingly quiet.
By eleven in the morning, Gian was ready to collapse. He had his head down on the desk when the commissioner stormed through the squad room and shouted out his name. “Davinci,” he said, pausing in front of the desk, “don’t go anywhere, you’re needed this afternoon.”
Gian lifted his head off the desk. “Does it look like I’m going anywhere?”
“Go take a nap in the Captain’s office,” Howard commanded.
“Good idea,” Gian muttered and dragged himself to his feet.
“Oh and, Davinci,” he paused as Gian stood still to hear his comment, “good job.”
Gian nodded, then walked into Clint’s office. He didn’t bother turning on the light. He closed the door, lay on the sofa and went into a coma.
* * * *
A place was found for Cory at a transition house. He was heavily involved in the upcoming trial. He was made to realize that his testimony was critical to putting these bastards away. He was all for that. He saw very little of Gian over the following months however, which was a great disappointment. Gian was in and out of the room when the boys gave their statements, but none of them ever got the opportunity to say more than hello to him.
When the trial finally arrived, it didn’t last long. There was a lot of public pressure to bring these three Beaconsfield guards to justice. It had turned into a bit of a media circus.
It was a hot July day when the boys involved began to testify. Some film and tape recordings had been taken into evidence, but a great deal of it had been deemed inadmissible. Gian was on the stand for over two weeks.
This was the time Cory got to see the most of him, but it was from a distance. They never got close enough to talk. When he was outside the courtroom, he was always surrounded by media.
* * * *
Gian didn’t give Cory’s diary to the D.A. In fact, he never even mentioned it to the prosecution because he knew they had enough evidence. And given the things Cory had said about him in there, it may have done more harm than good.
He had never told Cory he had photocopied it. He kept it at home in a drawer where no one could see it. He figured that Cory had experienced enough humiliation, he didn’t need any more.
The trial was tough. There were reporters everywhere and people were horrified at the things they were hearing. Most of the gruesome details were kept private, but still it was tough on everyone involved.
Gian was hounded by reporters everywhere and he was even offered a book and movie deal to tell his story, which he flatly turned down. There was no way he wanted to ever relive that.
On the day the three men were convicted, the courtroom erupted into cheers and applause. People were on their feet and the judge banged her hammer repeatedly calling for order. Each guard got five years without possibility of parole and Andy Falcon got ten. Mr. Mason lost his job and was charged for criminal negligence.
The boys were hugging each other and crying as the prisoners were being led away.
Gian was relieved to see that they were going down, but a little disappointed in the sentence. He would have liked to see them get more prison time, but he’d have to be content with that. He walked over to Andy before he was led from the courtroom and leaned close to his ear. “I know a lot of people up there, Falcon, and I’m going to make sure they know you’re coming. They’ll be waiting for you. I only wish I could be there.” Then he gave Andy one of his most charming smiles.
Andy met his eyes. “If I ever get you alone you’ll wish….” he hissed.
“If you ever get me alone, Falcon, you’ll wish you had friends,” Gian met his eyes. “Take him away to where he belongs,” Gian told the prison guard, who nodded at him and took Andy away.
He watched as Pug and Tim filed past him. “Have a nice trip, boys. Make sure you have a lot of haemorrhoid cream,” he told them, “and get the prescription kind. You’re going to need it.”
Pug sneered at him. The scars he had given him, still visible on his face. “Guess you’ll remember me, eh, Paul, every time you look in the mirror. You were one hell of an ugly son of a bitch to start with. I think it might even be an improvement.”
Pug cursed at him as he disappeared out the door.
“Asshole,” Tim said as the guard pushed him ahead.
* * * *
Cory stood there waiting for the courtroom to clear some. He came closer to Gian and waited for him to turn around. When he did, Cory said, “Hello.”
“Hi,” Gian said. “How are you, Cory?”
“Good and you?”
“Better now. Glad it’s over.”
“Me, too.
“I wish the sentence had been—”
“You did your best.”
Gian nodded.
“You were enjoying yourself there,” Cory grinned.
“I was. I couldn’t resist,” he smiled. “It gave me great pleasure to see them helpless for a change.”
Wow, that smile was like someone knocking the wind out of you for a second. It was overwhelming.
“How’s it going now at the transition house?” Gian asked him, jarring him back to earth.
“Oh, good. Everyone is really nice.” Cory paused, looking down, then said, “I’m getting out in a few weeks. I’m trying to find a job.”
“Good,” Gian said. “Are you receiving counselling?”
Cory shrugged. “They offer that, yes, but I don’t need it really. I’m fine. Besides, it’s a little late.”
“Cory,” Gian met his eyes. “You do need it. Trust me. Look, it’s a tough world out there. You need to be strong, to be able to cope and…what are you going to do when you get out? What kind of a job?”
Just then an older man that Cory recognized as a police captain came up and threw his arm around Gian’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m so proud of you,” he said. “Coming home? Mom’s making a celebration dinner tonight, your favourite. Kayla is home for the weekend.”
“The captain is your father?” Cory was surprised.
“Yes,” Gian said.
“We adopted Gian when he was about your age,” Clint said. “And we never regretted it.”
Gian grinned. “That’s a lie,” he teased.
Clint laughed. “I’ll wait for you outside.”
“Okay,” Gian replied.
“You’re lucky,” Cory said.
“Yes, I am,” he replied. “Well, you be good. Take care.”
He was about to leave when Cory said, “So, that’s it huh?”
Gian opened his mouth to reply when Sandra came up to him and grabbed him. “Come on, hero. We’re getting blasted tonight.”
Gian laughed. “Later, all right? I promised my parents I’d go home for supper. My sister is there, too.”
“Okay. How bout we meet you at the pub at ten?”
“Sounds great.”
“Bring the old man,” Sandra joked.
“I’ll try,” Gian laughed.
“You have a sister?” Cory tried to capture his attention again.
“Ya. She was adopted as a child. Clint and Sam got her in Africa as a baby.”
“Nice,” Cory replied.
“Not really. She’s a big pain in the butt,” Gian grinned.
Cory gave him a longing look. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” he said.
“Do you have any…I mean, is it just me or do you feel something, too? You know…attraction or…” He was having a hard time getting it out, but he had to know.
Then all the other b
oys came over. They monopolized Gian’s attention and Cory couldn’t say anything more. By the time they had moved on, Gian had left.
PART 2
That summer turned into winter and then summer again. Gian had been working on three separate cases, all of which were frustrating him. When he finally wrapped up the third one, he asked Clint for vacation time.
“Maybe in the winter,” he was told.
“Who in the hell wants to vacation in the winter, Clint?” Gian demanded.
“You do,” Clint said.
“I do?” Gian echoed sarcastically.
“Yep. Check the roster, you’re on nights next week. Now go home, take your two days and pretend you’re in Florida, its hot enough.”
It was a scorching summer. Thank God he didn’t have to wear a uniform. He took his two days and floundered on the beach, too lazy to swim. There were loads of good-looking guys around giving him the eye, but he was even too tired for that.
When he came back to work on a Saturday night at ten, he was not in a good mood. He put on a pair of jean shorts that ended at the knee and wore a loose fitting white tank top. He adjusted the gun holster over his shoulder and threw the badge on his belt. The holster was uncomfortable.
“Wear it on your hip,” some of the others were saying to him in the precinct when he complained.
“No way. I hate that. I feel like John Wayne,” he said.
Everyone laughed.
Gian leaned down to tie his running shoe and received a pat on the butt from Sandra. “Fresh,” he batted his eyelashes at her. “Are you going to take me home and use me?”
She laughed. “You wish.”
At midnight, he was coming back from taking a report on a corner store robbery when he spotted a fight going on outside a bar. The bar was called Stud, it was a rough gay bar that lay just outside the village.
The area was supposed to be patrolled by black and whites, but they were nowhere in sight.
There was a crowd urging on the two men who were beating the hell out of one another. Gian pulled the car to a stop and sighed. It was too damn hot for this shit and his instinct was to keep driving, but he couldn’t in good conscience do that. He got out and slammed the door.
The fight went on, no one realizing that the tall man coming toward them in shorts was a cop.
* * * *
Cory stood outside the door in the alley watching the fight. It was entertainment and, due to the heat, business was slow tonight.
When he recognized the man walking through the parking lot, his heart skipped a beat. He’d know him anywhere. He was in his dreams almost every night. He was dressed in shorts and a tank top, his long hair tied back at the nape. There was a gold badge hanging off his neck.
“All right, all right,” he said in that deep voice, “move aside. I’m a cop. What in hell is going on here?” He picked his badge up off his chest and showed it to people in the crowd, who moved aside to let him in.
The two men were rolling around on the ground. One was bleeding from the head. The other had a broken bottle in his hand. Gian took the bottle and threw it aside. then picked the guy off the ground and pushed him to one side. He bent down to check out the other guy. “Looks like you’re going to need stitches.”
“He’s hot,” one of the other prostitutes from the bar said to Cory.
“Um,” Cory smiled. “I know him. He’s a street cop.”
“Ah. You know him…in the biblical sense?”
“I wish. No, but I have seen him naked,” Cory whispered with a wink.
“Lucky you.”
“Hey, you’re cute,” one guy said, as he pulled the bleeding guy over to the step and sat him down.
“Thanks a lot,” Gian replied dryly. He looked down at the man. “Now, you want to tell me what happened here?”
Cory came over and looked at Gian. “It’s his lover. He slept with another guy and they got into it. Happens all the time. How you doing, Gian?”
Gian blinked, “Cory?”
“Ya. It’s me. Looking good.”
* * * *
Gian ran his gaze over Cory. He was dressed in tight red leather shorts and an open jean vest. His hair was long and untidy. He was filled with a strange sense of desire and pity for him. He knew he was working.
“What are you doing in this dive?” Gian asked him. He knew what this place was for.
“Not much,” Cory looked around.
Gian turned back to the guy who was bleeding on the steps. “Want to press charges?”
“Naw. I love him. It was my fault anyway.”
Gian sighed and looked at the other guy who already was saying that he was sorry. “Better take him to the hospital for stitches,” Gian told the guy. “And get counselling, or something!”
“Come on honey,” he said, pulling him up. “Sorry I lost my temper.”
Gian rolled his eyes. “Try making love, it frees up space in the emergency wards,” Gian said, as they walked off.
“Thanks, officer,” one of them called back.
Gian picked up the broken bottle and threw it into a dumpster.
* * * *
Cory stood at the side of the door, watching him. God he was so handsome. What he wouldn’t give just to kiss him. He had grown a moustache. It suited him.
“Don’t worry about those guys,” Cory told him. “They’re in love.”
“Ah, hate to see them one day if they fall out of love.”
Cory reached up and touched the moustache. “Nice. When did you decide on that?”
“It kind of decided on me,” he said with a shrug of broad shoulders.
Cory nodded. “Don’t grow a beard. You have a beautiful face and you don’t want to cover it up. The moustache is all right because it’s thin and you trim it well.”
“I’ll take that under advisement,” Gian replied, with a smile.
Cory laughed. “What cha’ been up to?”
“Working.”
Cory nodded. “Me, too.”
“Doing what?” Gian eyed him, although they both knew the answer.
Cory laughed. “Want to cuff me officer, take me in? I wouldn’t mind.”
Some guy near by called out, “Who in the hell would mind? Tie me up, baby, and rape me.”
Cory grinned. “You have a fan.”
“Only one?” Gian mocked, ignoring the comment.
“You got two.”
“Ah,” Gian nodded, raising an eyebrow. “The other one would be you?”
“Of course. So how ‘bout it, going to cuff me?”
“I’m not going to take you in, Cory,” Gian shook his dark head, “but I am disappointed.”
“Disappointed? Why?” Cory asked, his voice sounding shrill. “Disappointed to find the guy you saved from the boogie men was just a whore anyway? You wasted your time on me.”
“I never said that,” Gian replied, shaking his head.
“But you were thinking it,” Cory told him, reaching over and running his hand over his forearm.
“No,” Gian said. “I was thinking that you could do better than this.”
“Really? How?” Cory met his eyes. “Checking groceries? Waiting tables?”
Gian shrugged. “Maybe.”
Cory withdrew his hand and looked down at the ground. “You never did give me that one night.”
“No, I never did,” Gian replied, his voice strained. He began to walk away. He stopped, turned around and lifted a hand. “See ya,” he said.
Cory watched him walk to the car that was haphazardly parked on the curb, tears came up in his eyes, but he forced them away. “Think maybe one day you might reconsider?”
Gian paused at the car and then opened the door. He looked at him and slowly he shook his head from side to side, “Too much competition,” he said and then got into the car.
Cory watched him drive away. Gian didn’t look back.
* * * *
Gian took out the diary when he got home and read some of it. He read the parts w
here Cory talked about his feelings for him. He closed his eyes for a minute, remembering how he had avoided intimate contact with him at Beaconsfield. Even back then, even though he tried not to dwell on it, he was attracted to him. Seeing him tonight took him by surprise. It’s not that he had forgotten about him. It was just that they had lost touch and Gian figured that it was for the best. Cory had this crush on him and it wouldn’t have taken long for them to become sexually involved. They weren’t meant to be together and tonight had confirmed it. Cory had gone back to the streets. So every man was getting it, every man who paid the price that is.
He got up off the sofa and walked into the bedroom. No, they weren’t meant to be, a prostitute and a cop, a cop who wasn’t even home long enough to have a relationship. But maybe a relationship was not what he wanted right now.
He lay down and thought about what he said. One night, he had told him. There are so many things I want to do with you. He still remembered the little thrill that went down his spine when he had told him that. “Baby,” he murmured, turning over in bed, “there are a lot of things I’d like to do with you, too.”
Who in the hell knows what he was thinking when he went back to the Stud on his night off the following week. He knew he wanted to see him. Cory wasn’t there when he came in, so he went up to the bar and ordered a beer.
It was dark in the bar. It smelt of cigarettes and sex. It was cooler tonight. People were dancing on the dance floor. He had worn a pair of jeans, faded and tight and he knew their effect very well. He wore a simple white t-shirt tucked into the jeans. The t-shirt showed off the muscles in his arms and his torso and contrasted with his bronze skin. He left his hair loose and didn’t shave. He felt a little rough trade tonight. He wasn’t a cop. He was just a young man on the prowl, but he was looking for only one guy.
He drank two more beers then stopped. It was just enough to take away his inhibitions. It was almost midnight. If Cory came in, then so be it. He was getting tired of standing here. Besides they were having too much fun on the dance floor.
He looked over to a couple of guys sitting at a table nearby. They were good looking enough and they had been undressing him all night with their eyes. He winked at them, then turned back around, giving them a view of his rear in those jeans. He knew he had a great ass. It made him laugh these games. It had been a long time since he had played them. He leaned over to the bartender and said, “You know Cory?”