by A. J. Thomas
“I like tacos.” Ray dropped his eyes sheepishly. When he felt Elliot’s hand on the small of his back, turning him toward the door, he nearly yelped. He kept his eyes down as they passed by the uniformed security guard sitting by the door, acutely aware of the fact that Elliot’s hand was still touching him. The shame that swept over him when he saw the Hispanic security guard turn away to hide his smirk made the empty ache in his stomach spread through his entire body. Ray didn’t want the contact to end, but he couldn’t let someone look at him with that much disdain. He quickened his pace, put some distance between himself and Elliot, and glared at the security guard as he strode out.
When they climbed back into the car, Elliot turned and looked at him. “What was that about?”
“Hmm?”
“The guy working security?”
“You wouldn’t understand.” Ray slumped into the passenger’s seat.
Elliot started the car and pulled out of the gated parking lot, then turned toward the shopping center. “You know, just because I can’t relate to something doesn’t mean I can’t understand it.”
Ray shook his head quickly. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
“You’re out, right?” Ray asked, trying to decide on the best way to explain why he felt uncomfortable.
“Out? Yeah, I guess. As much as I need to be, anyway. I really don’t think anybody outside my friends and family has any business knowing who I date.”
“Well, you could be out, if you wanted to, yes?”
“Yes. Can’t you?”
Ray shook his head frantically.
“Is your family religious?” Elliot asked, pulling in to a parking spot in front of a small, busy shop. “Or just really conservative?”
“An actual taqueria?” Ray read the Spanish sign quickly. The city was filled with tiny authentic taco stands, but far too often going out for tacos with a coworker meant finding the nearest Taco Bell and smothering the food in salsa so it was palatable. A real taco place was a mixed blessing—he knew the food would be decent and the tortillas would be fresh, but he also knew there was no way he and Elliot could finish this conversation, either.
“The food’s good, and the portions are enormous for the price.”
Ray glanced at him, running his eyes up and down Elliot’s lanky body once more. “You need to eat more real food.”
“I’ve got a fast metabolism, and I work out a lot. I eat plenty.”
“I just meant that you’re skinny. Not that I mind the way you look, but I was wondering if you just live off of Pop-Tarts.”
“Sometimes.” Elliot stared at him. “So you’re Hispanic. That means you’re Catholic?”
Ray nodded.
“Me too. My family’s Dutch and Italian, so there’s no escaping the Catholic Church. My grandparents weren’t exactly thrilled when I came out, but my parents were okay with it.”
“Being Hispanic means more than just being Catholic.” Ray watched a couple with three young children leave the taqueria, smiling and laughing. The oldest boy held the door for his sister, the man held the door for his wife. “Gender roles are a bit more definite in Hispanic families. Real men are always tough, they take care of their families, even if they fool around, and they demand respect. And they will mock, humiliate, and alienate anyone who doesn’t fit in.”
“I know that’s not true,” said Elliot. “I’ve been to Tijuana. There were just as many men hustling as women, most of the time.”
“You think they want to be out there?” Ray laughed. “You think that they would be out there selling themselves if they still had family? If they had homes, or if anybody would give them a job, they’d never be caught dead out on those streets.”
“If they still had family?”
“Yeah. Most Hispanic families, the traditional ones anyway, will disown a child who comes out. They’ll kick them out, take down their photos, pretend they never existed…. At least, my family would. And everyone in the neighborhood will know the kid is gay, so no one else will look at them, no one will talk to them, and no one will help them. And I know it shouldn’t matter,” Ray threw his hands up in frustration. “I know it. I’m dead to most of my family anyway. But not to Carmen.”
“She doesn’t know?”
Ray could only shake his head.
“Does Sophie know?”
Ray shook his head again.
“So don’t tell them. You’ve always gone after women, and from the sound of it, you’ve gone after so many women that I doubt anybody would believe you if you suddenly announced you were involved with a man. So long as your sister and your cousin don’t know, what do you care what one random stranger thinks?”
“Because that security guard isn’t one random stranger. Every traditional Hispanic guy responds the same way when they see anybody acting gay. And the mocking and the laughter aren’t the end of it. Once you get enough people together, once they get angry and drunk enough….” Ray shook his head again.
“Are you sure you’re not being paranoid?”
Ray wanted to insist that he wasn’t being paranoid. He’d seen the guard smirk; he’d seen similar expressions every time his old partner had been open about being gay. There had definitely been a smirk, but Ray wasn’t sure how to explain it.
Elliot stared at him for a long time, then gave a shallow nod. “Okay.” He reached down and gave Ray’s thigh a gentle squeeze. “No nonmacho touching in public. I think I can manage that.”
Ray glanced pointedly down at Elliot’s hand.
“From now on, I mean.” He withdrew his hand, sliding his fingertips over the curve of Ray’s thigh as he moved.
“That is not fair.” Ray hissed, almost laughing despite himself.
“And it definitely wasn’t macho. So I guess that kind of thing is off limits.”
“No.” Ray sat up quickly. “No, I didn’t say that.” Ray took in the mischievous grin on Elliot’s face and felt like smacking him. “You’re totally fucking with me, aren’t you?”
“Just a little.”
Ray led Elliot to the most secluded table the place offered. Ray got a funny look from Elliot when he positioned his chair so he could keep a passive eye on the dining area and watch the door. Elliot’s gaze lingered on Ray’s hands as Ray carefully adjusted the way his jacket fell across his waist to make access to his holster as quick and efficient as possible.
“You are getting jumpy.”
“It’s a very distinct shade of gray.” The explanation was out before Ray could stop it. “Reflective, with white pinstripes. I don’t think I imagined it, but there have to be other people who wear gray suits.”
“At Garcia’s place?”
Ray nodded.
“You think one of your cousins was following us.”
“Yes.” His own confidence surprised him.
“We left from my house this morning, in my car.”
Ray nodded. He hadn’t forgotten about that, but he knew what he saw.
“Someone would have had to be following you since Friday morning to pull that off.”
“I guess it does seem kind of crazy….”
“It does. And we spent the last hour in the federal building. Even the parking lot is secure. I’m sure you’re just stressed.”
“You could help me relieve some of that stress,” Ray whispered.
Elliot’s gaze slid to the side. “Our waitress….”
Their server was a cute younger girl with impossibly red hair, and Ray found his focus shifting from the rest of the room to the skin just above the top buttons on her shirt. It was mostly out of habit, since the girl didn’t have much of a neckline to show off. He noticed the way she undid another button as she approached their table and began to relax a little. Flirting was something he could do in his sleep, and it was always fun. Beyond appreciating an attractive body, and being appreciated in return, it would mean they’d get better service, and she’d get a better tip. It really was a win-win situation.
Elliot’s smile grew soft and flirtatious, too. “Sounds perfect. Can I get those and a Coke?”
Ray knew he shouldn’t be glaring. If he’d been here with Hayes, he would have been cataloging details to rib his partner about later. If he were with another coworker, if he were with anyone else at all, he’d have toned things down and backed off. But it wasn’t the flash of cleavage or the girl’s smile that was throwing him off. The way Elliot returned her smile and leaned forward to confirm his order left Ray cold and furious. Elliot’s body language screamed interested.
“¿Y qué te pongo?” She asked Ray for his order casually.
“The same,” Ray growled.
To her credit, the woman’s smile only flickered a little. “And what can I get you to drink?” She shifted into perfect English.
“Just water.”
“It’ll be out in a few.”
Elliot watched her go and quirked an eyebrow at him from across the table.
“You eat a lot of tacos, huh?”
“Is your ego so fragile that you can’t handle a pretty girl paying attention to anyone other than you?” Elliot smirked.
Ray’s mouth dropped open before he could school his features. He tried to turn his shocked expression into a bright smile, but it was already too late. He saw the understanding sparkle in Elliot’s eyes, noticed the way the smirk grew into a real smile.
“Oh.” Elliot shifted in his chair, crossing his legs.
Ray needed to get control of himself. It was ridiculous to get jealous over someone he’d already slept with. The only people he had repeat encounters with were ones who understood they were just getting together for a bit of fun, people who wouldn’t get jealous and possessive when Ray picked up someone else. Ray had always figured it was only fair not to act possessive in return, and he’d never had a problem with that approach. Of course, when he wanted someone, he was used to commanding their full attention.
He needed to distract himself, so he decided to try changing the subject. “So what are you going to do while your tech guys are dissecting Sophie’s hard drive?”
“Don’t know. Probably check in with Sophie’s parents, this sister of yours, too, since you said Sophie lived with her. I’ve talked to each of her professors now, and her neighbors in the dorm, but I’ve obviously got to talk to the last professor again.”
“You know that little shit was just spouting accusations because she broke up with him.”
Elliot chuckled and shook his head. “I was going to ask if you wanted to tag along, but it might be better if you didn’t.”
“I’m fine, just tense. I need to go workout, or go get laid. Probably both, then I’ll be fine.”
Elliot’s grin just grew. “You want a real workout?”
Ray felt his pulse pick up at the implications. He glanced around fast to make sure no one would overhear them. “Was that a proposition? ’Cause with guys, I’m never sure. But if you were a woman I’d be throwing money on the table and dragging you out the door right now.”
“You can’t be that hard up,” Elliot laughed. “It wasn’t a line, I’m serious. It’s Saturday, and I wasn’t actually planning on spending my day off working unless I had to, and I need to get a workout in.”
“Oh.”
Across the table, Elliot laughed at him again. “You’re pouting.”
Ray just shrugged. “An actual workout wouldn’t be as much fun. I’m not like Hayes. I work out because I have to, but I don’t have the willpower to be enthusiastic about it.”
“You might enjoy this.”
Less than an hour later, Ray found himself following Elliot into an unmarked door in a dark alley. There was no sign on the door, just a plain number. The door wasn’t locked, and Elliot walked right in, so Ray assumed it was fine. Just past an empty bathroom, the floor was covered with thick blue gymnastic mats from one end to the other. Three walls around the mats were covered with mirrors from floor to ceiling. A dozen men and a couple of women, dressed in everything from judo robes to yoga pants, were scattered across the mats, matched into sparring pairs.
“Some friends of mine own the place,” said Elliot. “This is the advanced adult class.”
“A martial arts class?”
“Sort of. It’s a mixed martial arts club. I agreed to help out in some of the evening classes, when I have time, in exchange for a place to train. It’s fun, and it’s a great workout. You must have taken some basic ground fighting classes through the department, right?”
“Uh….” Ray had, but they had been years before. He personally believed letting a suspect get close enough for ground fighting tactics meant letting them get close enough to slit his throat. Ray felt that a gun, or any other projectile, was a better option in his case.
Elliot waved to a few of the fighters, called out greetings to others, then stopped by a locker with his last name on it. He pulled out a large duffel bag and began to pull out workout clothes. He tossed a T-shirt and loose pants at Ray. “If you haven’t, it doesn’t matter.” He glanced sideways at Ray, then tossed a sports cup to him, too. “I teach beginners workshops all the time. I’ll go easy on you. You can get changed in there.” Elliot pointed back to the bathroom.
“You teach judo?”
“Yeah. This place is why I wanted to transfer to San Diego. One of the owners works for the Bureau. We met during my first assignment out of the academy, almost six years ago now, when we were both looking for decent sparring partners. She’s a good friend. She’s permanently assigned down here now, so her husband decided to ope up his own dojo.”
“Damn it, I knew you were too good to be true.” Ray waved an accusing finger at him. “If it’s not ultramarathons, or people who treat CrossFit like some kind of cult, it’s martial arts…. Sometimes I think I am the only person on the planet who would rather be a couch potato.”
“You’re not, though. You’re in good shape.”
“Only because I have to be. Just because I want to be a couch potato doesn’t mean I can afford to be. If it weren’t a requirement for the job, I’d take a science-fiction movie marathon over the gym any day.”
Elliot just laughed at him.
“Don’t look at me like that. I already told you, being a geek has been sexy for decades now. I have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“When I was a kid, I took karate. I earned my first black belt at fifteen, and when I walked into ROTC basic training the summer before I started college, I thought I could hold my own. The first time I got into a real fight was a few weeks into the first phase of training, when three other guys found out I was gay. The moment the fight went to the ground, I panicked. I flailed and spent all of my energy trying to get back on my feet. A really hot shorter man, dressed as a civilian had come to my rescue. Honestly, I figured we were both going to get our asses kicked when the guy just let them tackle him. But he just knocked two of the guys unconscious and broke the third guy’s arm like it was a twig. Afterward, I found out he was going to be one of my unarmed combat instructors and he convinced me that the karate I’d spent so many years practicing was worthless once a fight went to the ground. So I started judo instead.”
“One of your instructors? The instructor?”
Elliot nodded. “He made one hell of an impression.”
“Give me the clothes.” Ray took the bundle of clothes and turned toward the bathroom. There was no way he was going to let a look like the one Elliot was giving him go without challenge.
Four hours of throws, joint locks, and tumbles later, Ray was too tired and too sore to stay on his feet. He’d managed to keep up with
Elliot for the first hour, but after that, the other man had thrown him around like a rag doll. He collapsed against one of the walls where some of the other fighters were resting. All of them were covered in sweat, and some of them were still red and panting. They all quietly watched Elliot and one of the club’s owners wrestle in a full-contact match.
Ray cringed as Elliot’s opponent knocked his head to the side with a sharp jab of his elbow. “They don’t fool around, do they?”
“They’re instructors,” said a young man farther down the wall. “They’ve got enough experience to play rough without hurting each other.”
When Elliot swept the other man’s feet out from under him and took them both to the ground, they hit the mat with a loud smack that made Ray jump. Ray stared at the focused, painful expression on Elliot’s face for a moment and realized that the last time Ray had seen a similar look on his face was in a mirror mounted above the hotel room bureau as Ray buried himself inside the other man’s body. He wanted to see that look on Elliot’s face again, that solid grimace of concentration before his climax slammed into him and left him drifting and droopy-eyed. He always made sure to take care of his lovers, but seeing another person orgasm had never thrilled him, until Elliot. Ray wanted to be the one responsible for putting that expression back on Elliot’s face.
He sighed and turned away. Sports cup or not, a hard-on wasn’t going to be comfortable.
“That’s just what they tell you kids to keep you from hurting each other.” That came from one of the two female fighters who added, “They want a real challenge, not a sparring match. They both know it, so they won’t whine about getting hurt afterward.”
Ray wanted to make a joke about not knowing that Elliot was a masochist, but he didn’t want to piss the other man off. He briefly imagined what it might be like to be the man Elliot was pinning to the mat, but he crushed that thought immediately.
There were some elements of gay sex he hadn’t found the courage to explore yet, and being pinned down and fucked by another man was at the top of the list. Anal sex itself wasn’t strange, he enjoyed it as much with women as with men, and it was easier to talk gay men into it than women. He’d been with a few men over the last eight months who had tried to convince him to switch roles, but no matter how good they said it felt, Ray just couldn’t do it. Fucking another man might make him bisexual. He could accept being bisexual. But in his mind, bottoming for another man was where the line between bisexual and gay was drawn. In a culture where strength was everything, where machismo was hardwired into every social sphere, it was unthinkable to cross that line.
