by Kaje Harper
“I’m married.”
“Who you fuck on the side, then!” Northman glared at him and Casey cursed. “Look. You might be a perfect faithful husband or the biggest horndog in three states. You can sleep with women, or men, or inflatable dolls for all I care. As long as it’s legal and doesn’t interfere with your job, it’s your own business. I expect that to apply to everyone in this department.”
Northman spat out, “Everyone else isn’t gay.”
“How do you know?” Casey got in closer, forcing Northman a step back against the wall. “How can you tell? I was a Marine and I was in Iraq and Afghanistan and I’m the toughest guy in the damned department, and I fuck men. Did you ever guess?”
Northman shook his head, turning his face aside. Casey took that for a concession and eased back a step. “Who knows who might be gay? And it doesn’t fucking matter. Yes, I’m gay. Yes, I’m in love with William Rice and have been for three years, and if anyone says anything disrespectful about him I will take them apart. Other than that, it’s no one’s business. I’m going to do my job and you all are going to do yours and do it right.”
Victor said, “Some of us won’t work for a fag.”
“You work for the people of this county, and if you won’t take orders from your superior officer, you can be out on your ass. No problem. Maybe Todd will hire you back when he takes office, but there’s a lot of good men, some of them better than you, looking for jobs. You might want to polish up that resume.”
“You can’t fire me.”
“If you don’t take orders I sure as hell can.”
Alanis interrupted, “Sheriff? There’s a call. A fender-bender blocking the intersection at Connaught and Main.”
Casey said, “You two. Go. Do your job for the people who count on you. But.” He stood as tall as he could and glared at them in turn. “Think about this, afterward. I’m not taking shit from anyone. I may be out of here in three weeks but for now I’m the sheriff. You don’t have to like me, but you have to obey me and do your damned jobs.”
They exchanged glances but said nothing.
“If you can’t handle that, tell me, and you can go on unpaid leave for three weeks. Cross me again and you’ll be out on your ear. I’m not having anyone in the department that every officer, gay, straight, bi, whatever, can’t trust to watch their back.”
He held his ground, forcing them to go around him as they headed out to their cruisers. When the door swung shut, he took a slow breath. Behind him, Alanis said, “Sheriff? You’re… really gay?”
He turned. “Yeah.”
“Since when?”
“Since forever. Does it matter?”
“Wasn’t that, like, illegal in the Marines?”
He gritted his teeth. “No one asked and I didn’t tell. Any more questions?”
She flushed. “No, sir.”
“Good. Get back to work.”
He strode down the corridor. It only took three steps for him to regret being so sharp with Alanis, but he didn’t think apologizing would help. Or maybe he just didn’t want to.
It was a relief to do real police work. Deeter, whatever reservations he might have about gay cops, had done the preliminaries right. Unfortunately, Peterson had settled down enough on the ride back to request his lawyer, so he was cooling his heels in a cell while they waited, but word was the guy wasn’t coming till tomorrow. Deeter had even remembered to have Casey’s truck brought around. He handed over the keys without a personal comment.
They got to work on the rest of the job— cataloging evidence, downloading the time-stamped photos, requesting search warrants for Peterson’s car and house. Casey contacted the Bangor PD and brought them up to speed on the investigation. They promised to run his photo lineup again, use different pics of Peterson and Landon in it, and see if they could finally get an ID. Tomorrow. Or maybe Monday. At least they had a solid eyewitness for their own hit-and-run and the driver wasn’t likely to make bail.
Casey was aware of people coming and going in the stationhouse but no one opened his office door. He wondered if he should do something definitive now, call the men together and make a speech. Or would that put too much weight on the whole subject? It was none of their business and he didn’t want to act like it was.
He pushed the problem away, concentrating on his work. There were reports to write, expenses to record. The train ticket was easy; the rest of the money, now locked up as evidence, was a trickier issue. He made a list of all the people he’d need to contact for statements, from Pauley to the cops in the train station. The bystanders who’d witnessed Peterson’s almost-confession of blackmail would need to be included. He hoped the local cops had done their job getting names, and hopefully they’d note which of those folks had taken recordings at the scene, in case Will’s was disallowed.
Casey rubbed his eyes. He had a crick in his neck. He straightened his back, arching and grunting in relief as things popped and crackled. Looking up from his screen, he saw the outer office was dim. Surely the Saturday evening shift should be there? Unless they’d all ditched him to go work for someone straight.
He spotted the time on the wall clock and did a double take. Okay, not ditching, just the fact that he’d worked until almost two AM. They didn’t keep a night shift in the station this late, just dispatch, a couple of cars on patrol, and some guys on call. Shit, and he hadn’t called Will. Or Scott.
He saved his files, powered things down, and headed out. The town was dark and mostly silent as he rolled through it. On Main Street, a couple of the bars were still hopping with the Saturday night crowd. They’d be spilling out of the doors soon, heading home. He spotted a patrol car parked on the hill and was glad a deputy was where they were supposed to be.
A block beyond Main, things got quiet again. The occasional house here and there had a light burning. Once he passed a private party, the garage open despite the chill and music booming. He thought about asking them to turn it down for the neighbors’ sake, but in the end he kept on going. The neighbors could call if they wanted a cop. For all he knew, they were at the party.
The Tri-Cross sign welcomed him as he passed under it up the drive. For the first time, it felt more like home than his office did. He parked and went into the house silently. In the kitchen, he stopped to lock away his gun in the new safe and empty his pockets. Three listening devices sat in a Tupperware on the counter, with Post-its saying “bedroom 1, bedroom 2, bath.” He hoped Will had taken pictures and avoided fingerprints, then sighed. Let the cop shit go, for once.
The removed devices probably answered the question of where he should look to find his man. When he pulled over the tray on the counter to set down his keys, there was an even better surprise. Two sets already lay there, one bigger and bearing a Toronto Maple Leafs key fob.
He climbed the stairs two at a time. They were asleep in the big bed. Will lay on his side, wrapped in Scott’s arms. Scott’s face was strained and he had dark shadows under his closed lashes, but he held Will firmly. For a moment Casey just looked at them, breathing deep and free.
Hell, yeah. This was what made all the shit worth going through. This was more than enough reward for coming out gay and losing his job and taking money from his parents and every other shitty thing that had happened recently. To stand here, watching those two sleep, and to know they’d welcome him when he joined them.
Without opening his eyes, Scott said, “Get the hell in the bed, Casey.”
He stripped fast, barely folding his clothes, and slid in behind Scott under the covers. As he moved to spoon Scott’s warm ass, Will rolled over with a sleepy murmur and moved a hand across Scott to touch Casey’s arm.
Casey whispered against Scott’s ear, “I didn’t expect to see you.”
“Our flight home was screwed up, so they canceled morning practice. I got a red-eye round-trip and a rental car. It cost a mint, and I’m officially totally broke now. I just got in and I have to leave in the morning. I regret nothing.”
“My guys came out. I needed to be here.”
Will muttered. “Love you both. Now, shut up.”
Casey laughed softly. He wasn’t usually a cuddler. Mornings in one bed usually found the other two wrapped together, and him sprawled beside them. But tonight he pushed in against Scott and reached around him for Will. Tonight, he needed to know even in his sleep that they were both there.
Chapter 9
Scott woke to heat against his stomach and hard morning wood pressing just above his ass. He opened his eyes and looked down at Will’s head. Will broke off kissing his abs to glance up and grin. “Welcome home.” He kissed Scott’s dick, which bounced upward in approval.
“Gnh. That’s a welcome I can definitely get into.”
Behind him, Casey said, “Got a welcome for you too,” and pushed his cock down between Scott’s thighs. “If you have time.”
“Gotta head out by nine.”
“It’s six.”
“I love being here.” Scott meant it, despite four hours of sleep and the way his bruised shoulder stiffened up on the cramped flight. He closed his eyes and thought about nothing but how good Will’s mouth felt on him, how strong Casey’s hands were, clamping his thighs together to thrust into that tight space. Casey’s cock rubbed his thighs and bumped his sac. Will’s tongue flicked Scott’s slit. He moaned and rocked between them.
It was slow and sweet, embers not flames. Scott’s climax built gradually, until one minute he was sliding his cock over Will’s lips in easy anticipation, and the next he was spilling hard, jolting and shaking as he came. Behind him, Casey groaned and spurted, slick cum dampening Scott’s thighs and balls.
Scott gasped, “Hell, yeah. Will, you?”
Will gave him a last lick and then slid up for a kiss. “Your mouth?”
“Do it.” He shifted around enough to ease the angle, and Will knelt up and gripped the headboard in support. He was already rock hard and leaking. Scott relaxed his jaw, welcoming the bulk of Will’s erection sliding deep. The taste of precum was heavy and slick in the back of his mouth. Scott used his tongue as best as he could and let Will drive the rhythm. A few more thrusts, and Will came buckets in Scott’s mouth. Scott swallowed, a hand on Will’s hip in support, and sensuously suckled him through the last spurt and tremble until Will collapsed back on the bed beside him.
They lay together, sticky and sated. Eventually, Casey said, “Shower?”
“For sure.” Scott slid out of bed.
He adored having a shower big enough for three. It was tight but there was enough room that they could play a little. He filled his hands with soap and rubbed down Casey’s back, recognizing the pained whimpers Casey made when his neck ached.
“Too long at the computer last night?”
“Yeah. Ooh, right there, so good.”
Scott dug his fingers into the nape of Casey’s neck. He’d planned to wait, but heard himself say, “We need to talk.”
“Yeah. I know.”
Behind Scott, Will kissed his cheek and wrapped an arm around his waist, leaning in. “I’m so glad you’re here to do it in person.”
“Yeah.” Except thinking about it took the edge off Scott’s happiness, because he was pretty sure the other two wouldn’t like what he was going to say. Hell, he didn’t like it. Maybe by the time they sat down for this discussion he’d have changed his mind. Or maybe not.
Warm water and smooth soap were a turn-on, but they didn’t even jerk each other off, just touched a little. Will traced the lines of Scott’s current bruises and kissed him, deep and slow. Eventually the water ran cold and they had to get out. Casey was dressed first, as usual, pulling on clothes at breakneck speed. He said “I’ll get coffee started” without looking at them and ducked out. Scott had grabbed clean shorts from his room, but came back to the master to dress. He glanced at Will. “Has he said anything about the department? How it went?”
Will shook his head. “I spent some time with Deputy Deeter yesterday, after he’d found out about us. I told him about the tracker Max set up for our phones and he let me hang out. He didn’t seem bothered by me being, you know, with Casey. Maybe it went okay.”
Scott sure hoped so but Casey had ditched them awfully fast this morning, even taking into account how much he loved his coffee. Casey had never planned to come out while he was sheriff, and Scott could imagine some very Casey-like disastrous ways to have done it under pressure. The fact that he could fuck and shower and not say a word, didn’t necessarily mean it’d gone well. Scott followed Will downstairs.
Casey was making not just coffee but bacon and fried eggs. Scott thought it might be a delaying tactic but he was too hungry to protest. “Smells great.”
Casey didn’t turn from the stove. “Sit. I’ll dish it out.”
They sat together in silence, slurping eggs, crunching the bacon and toast, and making inroads into the coffee. On his second refill, Casey sighed and seemed to relax a little. “I have to go in later. Theoretically, I’m off duty till the late shift, but there’s a lot to be done on Peterson’s case.”
“He was the blackmailer for sure?” Scott asked.
“Yeah. I’m still not sure how it relates to the hit-and-run though. He said something about Landon owing him. He lawyered up before we could get more detail on that, but once his lawyer shows, I’m going to coach Ransome through a nice little chat with Peterson.” Casey gave them both an extended rundown on the previous day’s events. It didn’t escape Scott’s notice that the story stopped right after the arrest.
He needed to know. “How’d it go back at the station?”
Casey stared down at the cup in his hand. “I’m not sure. A couple of the guys tried to make it an issue. The gay thing. I think I straightened them out.”
Scott would’ve asked how, but Will kicked him under the table and murmured encouragingly to Casey. Scott forced himself to be quiet. He liked to talk things through, but with Casey sometimes you had to sit back and give him space.
Eventually Casey took a long swallow and added, “I guess today’ll be the real test. I’ll go in to the office for a few hours and I’m scheduled to do the five PM briefing. I’ll see how they take it. How I have to handle it.”
Scott watched Casey’s free hand clench and unclench, and didn’t push for more. There were things he couldn’t fix. He turned to Will instead. “How about the ranch hands?”
“Don’t know.” It was Will’s turn to look down. “I’m not certain they’ve heard, other than Nita. Although it was Saturday, so it’s a good bet someone was in town last night and the story was probably out by then.”
“It’s too good a story not to be making the rounds. The tough Marine sheriff is gay,” Casey said.
“And he’s gay with me.”
“And with me,” Scott put in.
Casey looked up fast. “We kept you out of it, Scott. Seriously, you’re now the straight guy who probably had no idea what his buddies were really doing.”
Scott felt like he was inside a blender. Come out, stay in. Support Casey, play hockey. Be a man. What did that mean here? He was sick to his stomach. “So I’m not queer, just blind and stupid?” He hated that his heart leaped at the thought that his closet might still be intact.
“Right.” Will gave him a push. “Ignorant. Like most hockey goons.”
“I’m a skater, not a goon. You think people will buy that?”
“Sure.” Casey nodded decisively. “Two gay guys, well, that’s within their expectations. If two guys hang out together a lot someone’s going to say, ‘Hey, I wonder if they’re queer?’ But a third guy doesn’t fit in. People don’t think about poly.”
“They expect gay men to be sluts though. Won’t they assume we’re all fucking, if you are?” He really wanted them all to be in this together. Except for the little detail of bringing his whole career crashing down around his ears. He couldn’t come out. Not now!
“I told them I love Will
.” Casey flushed, but went on steadily. “I told them I’d been with him for three years and if they disrespected him I’d beat their heads in. They’re going to see us as a couple.”
Scott said slowly, “Okay.” He must be schizophrenic, because now all he could think was that he wished Casey had said that about him. They’d been together four years. “So you two are the couple and I’m the spare wheel?”
“That’s what works, on a lot of levels. For now. They’ll have a hard-enough time with me loving another man, let alone two of them. The same goes for the ranch hands here. And it leaves you clear to go burn up the NHL without having to deal with the bullshit involved in coming out.”
“Doesn’t mean we don’t want you, just the same,” Will said. “Only in private.”
Scott closed his eyes, trying to imagine it. “Would you want me to move out? Live in the trailer?”
“I don’t know,” Casey said. “We could leave it as it is. Will can come up to the house openly in the evenings, and it’ll be my partner making a booty call. If you’re already here, we can all get together and no one will know.”
Scott suggested, “Or you could move Will into the main room with you, because that trailer sucks.”
“Hey, don’t dis my place,” Will said in mock protest. “But yeah, that’d work too.”
Scott tried to relax his clenched fists. “I hate this. I totally fucking hate all of this. I want to be with you. I want to come out with you and stand next to you and say, ‘This is the guy I love. And so is this guy.’ But.”
“But you love hockey,” Will said. “You’re just starting out and that would queer it for you.”
Scott snorted. “Exactly.” He shoved his chair back so he could stand and pace. “I don’t know what to do! Every time I make up my mind, I change it again. Fuck Peterson!”
“Not if you paid me,” Casey said dryly.
“Tell me what to do.” He whirled around to stare at them, Casey with his blunt, strong hands wrapped around his mug, Will with his hair in his eyes and a sad expression. “Tell me what you want me to do.”