by John Simpson
Chapter One
Officers Patrick St. James and Hank Capstone waited nervously outside the Forestville Chief of Police’s office, wondering what they had done to get themselves into hot water this time. It had been over six months since their sting operation had brought down the powerful Governor of Maryland, once again putting St. James in serious danger in the line of duty.
Once they had notification from the FBI that the governor had been killed by unknown persons, St. James and Capstone returned to normal patrol duties. After two very high-profile spree murder investigations, routine patrol had become boring for both men.
On the home front, not much had changed. Pat’s lover Dean still worried about him every time he put on his uniform and went out the door, but they were now settled comfortably in the role of a couple confident in their choice of partners.
Hank’s passionate love affair with sexy young Shawn was in full swing. When Hank wasn’t on duty, he was with Shawn, and most of the time they were with Pat and Dean. Pat enjoyed watching the love develop between Hank and Shawn and was happy that his patrol partner had found someone he had a real chance of building a long-term relationship with. Everything was going smoothly until the telephone call that ordered both men to the chief’s office for an undisclosed reason.
“Did we fuck up an arrest recently?” Hank asked Pat.
“Not as far as I know. Besides, don’t you think we would have heard from the sergeant way before the chief if that were the case? No, this is something else, and I just hope she hasn’t changed her mind about us being gay,” Pat replied.
Before either officer could say anything else, the door to the office opened and the Deputy Chief of Police said, “Gentlemen, please come in.”
Pat and Hank walked through the chief’s outer office to the inner office where they found Chief Morgan at her desk with what were clearly their personnel files in front of her. She looked up and greeted both officers.
“Good to see you both again. It’s hard to believe it’s been a little over six months since the governor’s arrest and the media circus that followed.”
“Yes chief, it doesn’t seem like it’s been that long ago since we were all media stars,” Hank replied.
“Well, I’m sure you’re both wondering why I asked to see you, so I won’t prolong your agony. In this department’s very long history, I can find no other record of two young rookie officers performing in such an exemplary manner to bring about positive outcomes of two very high-profile serial murder cases. In both cases, Officer St. James, with the backup and tactical support of Officer Capstone, made the arrests that closed the cases.
While it is true that you both have received departmental medals and numerous awards for your actions, I don’t want it to go unnoted that your native investigative instincts played a very large part in the solving of these crimes. Therefore, it is with great pleasure that I inform you that you are hereby promoted to the rank of Detective, 3rd class, effective immediately.
These promotions have the unanimous recommendation and consent of your supervising sergeant, as well as the command officers that oversaw much of your work. You are hereby reassigned from patrol division, to the Detective Division where you will work both vice crime and homicides.”
The chief rose from behind the desk and picked up two sets of credentials that contained a gold badge and identification stating that the holder was a detective with the Prince Georges’ County Police Department. She handed each man their new badges and said, “Congratulations to you both. I hope that you’ll continue to show the promise that has brought you this far in your young careers.”
The deputy chief then handed each man his new orders as to where to report and to whom. This was the beginning of an entirely new chapter in their police careers and it came about seven years earlier than what could be expected.
Both the chief and the deputy chief then shook hands with the new detectives and they were shown out of the office. After the door closed and the two friends were alone in the hallway, Pat bugged his eyes at Hank and said, “Holy fucking shit! Can you believe what just happened?”
“Hell, no! We just jumped over at least two hundred other officers to get these slots and boy are they gonna be pissed!”
“Well we can’t be worried about that; the chief made these decisions. What would our brother officers expect us to do? Turn down the promotions? Would they if they were in our shoes? Uh, no thanks, chief, it just wouldn’t be fair.”
“You know they wouldn’t,” Hank replied.
“Well, according to these orders, we have tomorrow off and then we report to the Hyattsville Detective Bureau the following afternoon for the evening shift. It also says we’re to keep and maintain our uniforms in case a situation arises that requires us to wear them.”
“Let’s get home and tell the guys the good news! This should make Dean real happy since you won’t be handling radio calls anymore.”
“I imagine Shawn will be fairly pleased as well. Okay, let’s get home and I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” said Pat.
* * *
The two best friends split up in the parking lot, getting in their own cruisers and heading home. Dean would get home about an hour after Pat, but Hank wasn’t sure what shift Shawn was working at the 7-11.
As the men drove, the ramifications of their promotions ran through their heads. Being detectives meant a clothing allowance for suits, less danger on the job, more court time, and possibly worse hours. As a detective, especially working homicides, they could be summoned at any hour of the day or night if something broke on a case. The worst duty was being the on-call detective as that meant you more than likely would be woken up in the middle of the night.
All in all, both men were elated at being recognized for their hard work, dedication to duty, and the pure luck of being in the right place at the right time. Both Dean, and to a lesser degree, Shawn, had done a lot of worrying over their men since both rookie officers attracted difficult and dangerous homicide investigations that put them in extraordinary danger. The promotions should allow both Dean and Shawn to sleep better at night.
Pat parked his marked cruiser in the driveway for one of the the last times. As a detective, he would be assigned an unmarked cruiser that would be far less conspicuous on the street. Pat walked into the house, stripped off his uniform and equipment and headed up to shower. He and Dean had no plans as to who was going to cook this evening. Pat decided that if Dean wasn’t too tired, they would go out to celebrate his promotion. After grabbing a robe out of his closet, he got into the shower and began to scrub himself clean.
As he soaped up, his hands dropped down the chiseled chest and abs that he’d gained through hard exercise. He took care to ensure that his crotch was well soaped and the more he did, the harder his cock became as he thought about Dean lying naked on the bed.
Their sex life was extremely healthy and enjoyable. Pat had taught Dean everything he knew about sex, and was now the beneficiary of that tutorial. Pat stopped playing with himself and he rinsed off, looking forward to making love after dinner. He toweled off, threw the robe on and walked through the bedroom to the hall. Looking over the railing down to the first floor, he checked to see if there were any signs of Dean. The house was silent so he went to his dresser and pulled on a pair of linen boxer shorts. Pat liked the feel of linen close to his body and decided to relax on the bed while waiting for Dean.
The next thing he knew, Dean was waking him. His lover had come home and found him sound asleep “Hi honey, I must have fallen asleep. What time is it?”
“It’s a little after six o’clock.” Dean bent over and kissed his partner soundly on the lips. “Hmm, you smell great. You showered; I see.”
<
br /> “Yes, I did… just in case you liked an idea that I had for tonight.”
“Tonight? What would that be?”
“Honey, we’re going out to dinner to celebrate,” Pat said with a smile.
“Celebrate what? Did you catch another bad guy?”
“Not exactly. Go over to the dresser and look,” Pat said with a smile.
Dean got up from the bed with a look of curiosity on his face. What was his lover up to now? He picked up the leather bound I.D. case and opened it. Inside, was a gold shield with the inscription Detective, Prince George’s Co, Maryland. The I.D. card on the opposite side proclaimed that Patrick St. James was a police detective.
Dean was stunned. He turned to Pat, holding up the credentials. “You’re a detective now? When? Who? Tell me!”
Pat laughed and sat up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. “Both Hank and I were promoted today by the chief herself. We’re now off patrol duties and assigned to the Hyattsville Detective Bureau working vice and homicide. It’s effective immediately, but I have tomorrow off before Hank and I report to work as detectives!”
“Honey, that’s wonderful! Congratulations! This is incredible and you deserve it after what you guys have been through! Oh my God, I can’t believe this.”
“Well, it was hard for Hank and I to believe it when it was actually happening. We thought we were in for a shit storm for screwing something up. Instead, we make departmental history,” Pat said with a broad smile.
“Well, you’re damn right we’re going out to celebrate. I’ll go make reservations now. How does seven-thirty sound?”
Pat nodded, and as Dean walked away, Pat heard him talking to himself. “My lover… a police detective! Unreal!”
Pat smiled and got up to pick out his clothes for dinner.
* * *
At Hank’s house, things went a little faster and a lot earthier. Shawn was home when Hank arrived and even though Hank tried to be casual about things, Shawn immediately suspected something was going on. Once Hank had hung up his uniform and was down to his underwear in their bedroom, Shawn struck.
He tackled Hank throwing him onto the bed even though Hank could have easily plastered Shawn to the wall if he felt like it. “Okay, what’s going on Hank? I can tell something is not right.”
“How do you do it? You always know something’s up even if I haven’t said a word. It’s like you can read my mind!”
“I have many skills… as you are well aware of, Officer Capstone, and reading minds is only one of them. So give it up!”
“Well, actually it’s no longer Officer Capstone.”
“What? You got fired?”
Hank laughed at the ceiling. “Hardly. In fact, it’s Detective Capstone as of today.” Hank gave Shawn a kiss.
“Detective! Really? They made you a detective?”
“Yep, me and Pat. We have tomorrow off and then we report for the evening shift in Hyattsville the next day.”
“Oh my God, that is so great! I’m so proud of you, honey. I’m going to have to think of some special way to congratulate you,” Shawn said with an evil smile.
“I can’t wait for how that turns out.” Hank smiled back as he ran his hands over Shawn’s ass.
“I guess that means that you and Pat won’t be stopping by the 7-11 anymore for coffee, huh?” he asked with a frown.
“Why not? Detectives have to drink coffee too when we’re on the road. It just won’t be every shift as before.”
“If you’re off tomorrow, let’s go out to the bars tonight and celebrate, whaddya say?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. I’m a little tired for that, I think.”
Shawn placed a hand on Hank’s package and began to rub and tease it until Hank came to life in his shorts. Hank smiled at Shawn’s method of coaxing. “I’ll give you anything you want, if we can go out tonight….”
“Anything?”
“Yep, anything detective, sir,” Shawn said, smiling the beautiful smile that Hank had fallen in love with.
“Can I have a preview?” Hank asked with a devilish smile of his own.
Shawn stopped rubbing and pulled Hank’s boxer briefs down exposing Hank’s erection. He went down on Hank, sucking hard for just a few moments before letting Hank’s dick pop out of his mouth.. Shawn released the waistband of the briefs and they sprang back up to cover Hank’s hard-on.
“Ahh, that wasn’t very much of a sneak peek!” Hank protested.
“Well, that’s all you’re getting right now. Can we go out?”
“You know I can’t say no to you, my pretty!” Hank said in his best Wicked Witch of the West voice.
Shawn bounced off the bed and jumped around the room. “You better hit the shower so that we can take a nap and get downtown at eleven. We don’t wanna be early!”
Shawn was happy and that meant Hank was happy. In the homes of the newly minted detectives, happiness reigned supreme, but for how long?
Chapter Two
Pat and Hank reported for work as ordered. They already knew the shift sergeants in the detective bureau, and they were assigned to Sergeant Flynn. Flynn pointed out their desks and other areas that they would operate from and then sat down to talk over their first assignment.
“Okay, both of you guys have made a name for yourselves in sexual situations and I’m going to make use of that experience. You’re going trawling for hookers.”
Pat looked at Hank and then back at the sergeant. “Hookers?”
“Hookers,” Flynn confirmed. “We’ve had complaints from residents on 54th Avenue near the university. They’ve noticed three or four different girls hanging around the corners and generally disrupting traffic. One of the calls that came in was a domestic. The wife found her husband talking to one of the ladies while walking the dog. So, tonight you’re both going out wired with an arrest team in two vehicles. Just walk the area and make yourselves approachable. When the ladies suggest a date, it’s your job to ask what the date entails and get a price in exchange for a sex act. That’s all you have to do. No money needs to change hands.”
“Well, that’s not so bad. I get to keep my clothes on for a change,” Pat said with a smile. Hank giggled as he recalled the times when the opposite was true.
“For sure, you get to keep your clothes on. Also, remember that everything is being recorded for court, so try not to say anything that will kill the bust. This won’t kick off ’til at least eight p.m., so get your desks set up the way you want them, take custody of your new unmarked cruisers, and go home and change. Wear something that will make you look like a couple of frat boys. The hookers should eat that up; no pun intended.”
After organizing their desks, Pat and Hank picked up keys , checked out portable radios and headed to their assigned units. In the parking lot, they stopped to talk briefly.
“Well, here we go again buddy. What are you planning on wearing?” Hank asked Pat.
“The tightest pair of jeans I have and a polo shirt. I’ll use the two-inch .38 in my waistband for a weapon and I should be set. You?”
“Sounds good to me. It’s funny as hell. We’re used to trying to attract guys we suspect are serial killers and now we’re going after female hookers! This job just never gets boring.” Hank laughed as they got in their cars and left for home.
Pat arrived to find that Dean had gotten in from work already. When he went through the front door, Dean flew around the corner and into the hallway, thinking that something was wrong since his lover was home after just a couple hours.
“Hi Lucie; I’m home,” Pat said in his best Ricky Ricardo voice.
“I can see that, what’s wrong?” Dean asked with a smile and a raised eyebrow.
“Nothing, I just have to change out of this suit, and into casual clothes for my first assignment.”
“Oh God, what now? Please don’t tell me it has anything to do with a gay bar!”
“Not this time honey. Hank and I are going hooker huntin’ on the streets of College
Park!”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. We’re assigned to Vice and Homicide and our first assignment is hooker patrol. Now let me go get dressed as hooker bait, okay?” Pat said with a smile as he ran up the stairs to the bedroom.
Once there, he tried to think how best to present himself. He took off all his clothes and slipped the jeans on, and chose a green polo. When he walked in front of the mirror, he realized there was no way he could go out the front door of the house dressed like this let alone into the police station. His endowment hung down the left side of his jeans giving ample evidence that he was indeed male.
Just as Hank decided that underwear was required, Dean came into the bedroom to ask if he wanted something quick to eat. Dean’s eyes dropped to Pat’s package and he said, “Oh my God, you’re not going out like that, are you?”
“No, just decided that would not happen,” Pat said as he pulled his jeans off. He opened a drawer, took out a pair of gray Calvin Klein Boxer Briefs and slipped them on under the jeans. Now, instead of a snake going down his leg, he had a nice bulge going on. Much more suitable for the task.
“This okay, sugar butt?” Pat asked with a smile.
“Well, it’s still too revealing as far as I’m concerned, but it’s an improvement. I guess it’s all right.”
Pat looked himself over in the mirror one more time and approved. He went to the bedside table and opened the drawer. Inside, was a small .38 that he slipped into his waistband on his right hip. He pulled the polo down over it and concealing the fact that he was carrying a weapon.
He went down stairs and found Dean waiting with a steak sandwich for him. Hank ate it gratefully, kissed his lover and returned to the station for the mic that he would be wearing.
As he walked into the detective bureau, catcalls and whistles greeted his arrival. “Damn, boy, how can you even walk in those jeans?” one jealous detective shouted out. Pat ignored them and grabbed a cup of coffee while he waited for Hank.
Before long, Hank arrived and while his wardrobe was not as “enticing” as Pat’s, he looked pretty damned good. He walked over to where Pat was sitting and sat down on the corner of the desk.
