Devon blinked into wakefulness as the sun came pouring
through the dirty car windows of Marco’s back seat. Marco, his shirt open and
his pants unbuttoned lay scrunched up next to him, his head resting on Devon’s
chest.
Devon couldn’t help but smile. How long had it been since he had done
something so wild? And he had been sober no less! More importantly, Marco had
been sober, too. No drunken fumbling or post coital shame. He had just openly
wanted him, and at that moment Devon couldn’t resist.
He looked down at Marco’s sleeping face. His cheeks were rough with stubble, his hair
was a mess, and Devon found him irresistible.
He gently ran his fingers through the detective’s hair. Marco stirred, his eyes fluttering open. When he saw Devon he smiled.
“I should probably get you home.” He kissed Devon’s bare
chest. “Don’t need one of my fellow officers finding me like this.”
“With another man?” Devon could feel his defenses starting
to go up.
“Half naked in a car, necking like a school kid.” Marco sat
up, stretching, totally unaware of Devon’s nerves. “My department knows I’m
gay. That could care less as long as I keep my record clean.”
Devon relaxed. “If
you want, we can go get cleaned up at my place.
Then, if you have time…”
“I’m supposed to be doing rounds on campus, asking questions
and all that. So, I have time. Might actually be a good idea to have a
student with me. Make the others open up
a little more.” As he spoke he buttoned
up his pants.
“Well, then there is a diner not far from here. We could grab breakfast; go over any other
questions you have…” Devon was hoping he didn’t sound too desperate.
Last night had felt amazing, but it had been totally out of
character for him. Sure, he had made
plenty of bad choices when it came to his sex life, but he had always been more
reserved. Last night he just felt like
every wall he had ever built around himself had been torn down. He had given in over and over again.
Marco leaned close to him. “Sounds like a plan.”
They kissed briefly.
The sound of a woman screaming loudly trampled right over
their romantic moment. Both men snapped to attention just in time to see a
middle aged woman come flying out Retro’s front door. She was still carrying the mop in her right
hand, her clothes splattered with dirty water.
“Oh God!” She was
running towards the car. “Help me! Oh
God!”
Marco was out of the car, his shirt buttoned up. The woman ran to him, grabbing his shirt.
“Ma’am, what’s wrong?” He was trying to calm her down. It didn’t seem to be working. “Ma’am, tell me what’s wrong!”
“In the bathroom.”
She was so out of breath that she was barely able to speak. “There’s a…
a body in the bathroom. It fell out of the… out of the ceiling!”
Marco didn’t want to her to finish talking. He took off, running straight into the
bar. Devon was right behind him. He knew it was probably a dumb idea to follow
him, but he was working on pure instinct at that moment.
Marco was ahead of him, already pushing his way into the men’s
room when Devon entered the bar.
Stepping inside Retro was like a sensory slap in the face. The smell of cheap, stale beer and sweat made
Devon’s stomach churn. He didn’t
stop. He kept running, ignoring the
growing fear in his belly.
He pushed into the bathroom, and froze.
Marco stood in front of him, stunned. On the floor was a body, but there was something
very wrong with it. It looked,
drained. The skin was dried out and
leathered, pulled tight over jutting bones.
Pieces of ceiling tiles littered the floor around the body, and it
looked like it had fallen on its head, as the top right part of its skull had
collapsed on impact.
“What the fuck did this?” Devon took a step backwards, his
back colliding with the wall.
“I… I don’t know.” Marco looked at him, and the fear that
Devon saw in his eyes made everything seem worse.
