and into the cooler night air of the parking lot. “An officer.”
“Pfft. That’s a given captain. I have a badge and everything. It’s super shiny.”
“Mine is too,” Sommerset chimed in.
“Fantastic. Neither of you can hold your liquor, and now I’m going to have two of the three stooges in my backseat.”
“How ’bout you join me in the back seat, hm?” Oak wasn’t positive, but he had the sinking suspicion that he’d regret that offer tomorrow. He ran the words over in his inebriated mind. Nope, they sounded good. Really, really good. Think of all the things they could do in the backseat of Peterman’s car.
“Who’d drive you home if we were all in the backseat?”
“You missed the point completely,” Oak complained.
“No, I don’t think I did.”
He shoved Sommerset into the backseat, policeman style with his hand on his head to keep Sommerset from bumping it on the way in. Sommerset sprawled, laughing as the door closed behind him. He maneuvered Oak to the other side.
“What? You get me drunk, and I don’t even get a goodnight kiss?” Oak asked feeling a little sloppy. The captain wasn’t standing still, was he? It was hard to tell. He glared at Oak for several seconds, letting Oak’s request sink into his own head. Oak slapped a hand over his mouth. Oh shit, he knew that one would haunt him later. That’s why he started laughing. Of course, that was why he was laughing and not because he’d just come out of the closet to his captain in a big way.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Get in.”
Wyatt planted his hand on Oak’s glossy black hair and shoved him downward onto the backseat. He slammed the door shut after him. He took a few deep breaths before he got into the driver’s seat. He cranked the ignition and turned up the volume of the local radio station channel.
The last thing, the very last thing he needed , was to think of kissing Oak Takala. The man’s wide, almond-shaped eyes were so brown Wyatt could get lost in them. Hell, he had gotten lost a time or two over the years. Fortunately, there was always structure of the force to fall back on. He wasn’t about to mess around with his best friend and former partner’s, kid. He certainly wouldn’t kiss the same kid’s beautiful mouth when he was drunk off his ass.
“Sommerset. Address,” he barked.
Sommerset reeled it off. Wyatt nodded curtly.
Maybe if he kept telling himself that Oak was a kid, he’d eventually believe it. He’d done the math more than a few times. They were sixteen years apart in age. John another twelve above Wyatt. Sixteen years was a lot. The kid was twenty-nine for fuck’s sake. Who the hell was he kidding with jokes about making out in the backseat?
Sure, it was hilarious now, when he’d beer-soaked his brain, but just wait until that brain sobered up and he realized that he’d propositioned another man. A superior officer on the force. If it were any other person, Wyatt would never let him live it down. Because it was Oak, and too close to what he wanted, Wyatt wouldn’t bring it up again.
Kissing Oak. Fuck. Wyatt would either have to resign himself to a restless night with that image stuck in his head, or he’d have to go home and jack off a few times until he was unwired enough to sleep. Damn, that kid. He had no idea what he was messing with.
He stopped in front of Sommerset’s house. The detective stumbled out of the car and tripped up the steps to his house. A woman opened the front door and started yelling at the poor fool. Wyatt shook his head, grateful that wasn’t his home.
He pulled out of the driveway. There was no need to ask Oak where he lived. His house was around the corner from his parents. If Oak leaned to the left from his back deck and peered through the twin pines at the back edge of the property, he could see John and Tilly’s patio. If he stepped to the right at the corner of the deck and looked up, he’d see Wyatt’s condo balcony through a different set of trees.
It
“Pfft. That’s a given captain. I have a badge and everything. It’s super shiny.”
“Mine is too,” Sommerset chimed in.
“Fantastic. Neither of you can hold your liquor, and now I’m going to have two of the three stooges in my backseat.”
“How ’bout you join me in the back seat, hm?” Oak wasn’t positive, but he had the sinking suspicion that he’d regret that offer tomorrow. He ran the words over in his inebriated mind. Nope, they sounded good. Really, really good. Think of all the things they could do in the backseat of Peterman’s car.
“Who’d drive you home if we were all in the backseat?”
“You missed the point completely,” Oak complained.
“No, I don’t think I did.”
He shoved Sommerset into the backseat, policeman style with his hand on his head to keep Sommerset from bumping it on the way in. Sommerset sprawled, laughing as the door closed behind him. He maneuvered Oak to the other side.
“What? You get me drunk, and I don’t even get a goodnight kiss?” Oak asked feeling a little sloppy. The captain wasn’t standing still, was he? It was hard to tell. He glared at Oak for several seconds, letting Oak’s request sink into his own head. Oak slapped a hand over his mouth. Oh shit, he knew that one would haunt him later. That’s why he started laughing. Of course, that was why he was laughing and not because he’d just come out of the closet to his captain in a big way.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Get in.”
Wyatt planted his hand on Oak’s glossy black hair and shoved him downward onto the backseat. He slammed the door shut after him. He took a few deep breaths before he got into the driver’s seat. He cranked the ignition and turned up the volume of the local radio station channel.
The last thing, the very last thing he needed , was to think of kissing Oak Takala. The man’s wide, almond-shaped eyes were so brown Wyatt could get lost in them. Hell, he had gotten lost a time or two over the years. Fortunately, there was always structure of the force to fall back on. He wasn’t about to mess around with his best friend and former partner’s, kid. He certainly wouldn’t kiss the same kid’s beautiful mouth when he was drunk off his ass.
“Sommerset. Address,” he barked.
Sommerset reeled it off. Wyatt nodded curtly.
Maybe if he kept telling himself that Oak was a kid, he’d eventually believe it. He’d done the math more than a few times. They were sixteen years apart in age. John another twelve above Wyatt. Sixteen years was a lot. The kid was twenty-nine for fuck’s sake. Who the hell was he kidding with jokes about making out in the backseat?
Sure, it was hilarious now, when he’d beer-soaked his brain, but just wait until that brain sobered up and he realized that he’d propositioned another man. A superior officer on the force. If it were any other person, Wyatt would never let him live it down. Because it was Oak, and too close to what he wanted, Wyatt wouldn’t bring it up again.
Kissing Oak. Fuck. Wyatt would either have to resign himself to a restless night with that image stuck in his head, or he’d have to go home and jack off a few times until he was unwired enough to sleep. Damn, that kid. He had no idea what he was messing with.
He stopped in front of Sommerset’s house. The detective stumbled out of the car and tripped up the steps to his house. A woman opened the front door and started yelling at the poor fool. Wyatt shook his head, grateful that wasn’t his home.
He pulled out of the driveway. There was no need to ask Oak where he lived. His house was around the corner from his parents. If Oak leaned to the left from his back deck and peered through the twin pines at the back edge of the property, he could see John and Tilly’s patio. If he stepped to the right at the corner of the deck and looked up, he’d see Wyatt’s condo balcony through a different set of trees.
It
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