Bait
by Eric Newcastle

            All that Emmett could stand, if he had to, but what got the worst of him was the faggots.  Sodomites was all over the place, walking through the park like the owned the place.  One would think they were breeding, if that were possible.  Nobody dared to say anything, because this was Sonoma County after all, north of San Francisco, the biggest fag place on earth he heard tell.

You try to be civil and they think you’re interested in mounting them, like some fuckin animal or something.  “Christ almighty,” he swore.  “Don’t you guys have something better to do with your time?”  He complained to his supervisor several times, but that got him nowhere.  There wasn’t money in the budget to monitor private behavior, he was told.  “If you got proof of anything illegal, you can call the sheriff.”  Yeah, like that was going to do any good either.  By the time they got there whatever was going on would be done with.  What would they do with a used rubber, test for DNA?  Not likely.

One of them guys tried to touch his ass once, said he was real nice lookin and they wanted a piece of him.  “No fuckin way,” he said as he slammed his fist into the man’s face.  Broke the man’s nose.  That about lost him his job, but being a first offense the boss let him off easy – only two months probation.

            That’s when Emmett decided to get something done.  If the park service wasn’t going to do anything about it, he would have to turn elsewhere.  There had to be someone that would take him serious and come arrest a few queers.  It wasn’t safe anymore out at Wohler Bridge for the normal folks and their kids to walk around.  There was always something going on in the bushes, the likes of which he didn’t even want to know about.

. . .

            One Saturday night Emmett went out for a few drinks at Mike’s Recovery Room, the local police bar.  It was more than off duty police that went there, of course, but mostly it was a place where real regular guys could let off a little steam and get away from their wives for the evening or even hook up with some ladies for the evening, if they had a mind to.  

Emmett thanked the good Lord above that he didn’t have a wife to tie him down no more.  No road rats together either, thank God.  Neither of them ever wanted to be a parent, though there was that one time when Sara got pregnant for awhile.  He pretended to like the idea, but it was a lie.  She miscarried soon enough, before it got too far along.  Said she missed the baby, but that was a lie too.  She just wanted to go slutting around.  Well, she could go do it now, but don’t come around expecting him to pay for the kid.  No fuckin way.

At the other end of the bar sat a young buck wearing his uniform – strictly against sheriff department policy.  He was trying to pick up on someone, but there weren’t any girls worth having there tonight.  Emmett had to admit, he looked pretty good in that outfit, but who didn’t with a leather jacket and tight pants.  He figured what the heck, might as well go say “hi” to the guy.  It wasn’t as though either of them was going to get any action anyway, not with the thrash working this room.

“Howdy,” Emmett said extending his hand to the officer.  “Ain’t seen you in here before.  My name’s Emmett.”

“I’m Joe,” the stranger said, shaking Emmett’s hand.  “Joe Farley.  Pleased to meet you.”

Joe seemed just a little too polite for this crowd, but it could have been just because he was the new guy in town.  He sipped on his vodka and tonic like it was the last one he’d ever drink or he couldn’t afford no more.

“Don’t seem to be many friendly girls here tonight,” Emmett said to break the ice.

Joe looked around and shrugged.  “I guess not.”

They didn’t say much after that, just casual remarks with long periods of silence in between. 

Emmett couldn’t help but notice that Joe had on a wedding ring.  “Does the wife  know you’re here?  You got to be careful if the old ball and chain finds out you are out picking up the ladies.”

Joe looked a little sad, took another sip of his drink, and said, “She’s not here anymore.  Died last November.”

Emmett felt real stupid for being so flippant.  “Say.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Joe forced a smile.  “No need to apologize.  It was a long time coming.  Pancreatic cancer.  She wanted me to carry on with life, so here I am.”  Joe fingered his ring.  “I just haven’t gotten around to taking this off yet.”

“I know how you feel.  It was a few months before I could take mine off, after my wife left me.”  It wasn’t true, none of it.  Emmett left Sara before she got knocked up and pregnant again with another guy.  He never had a wedding ring and never wanted one.  It just seemed like the right thing to say, to make things less awkward.

That was the beginning of a long friendship.  Joe and Emmett got together nearly every Friday after work to have a few beers.  Occasionally one of them would hook up with a local girl, but mostly it was them just shooting the breeze and enjoying one another’s company.  Emmett noticed that Joe seem to attract more attention from the opposite sex when he wore his uniform.  So, he took to doing the same a couple or three times, but it wasn’t the same because park ranger jackets are no match for a leather one.  Then Emmett bought his own leather jacket.  Cost him a week’s pay.  It was no chick magnet, but it made him feel better wearing it.

After about three months of beer drinking on Fridays Emmett decided to ask Joe a favor.

“How would you like to come patrol the park with me?”

Joe thought about it.  Always did like the outdoors, he had to admit.  The call wasn’t his to make, however.  It was up to the boys at the top to tell him where to go.  So far at least, they hadn’t seen fit to have him do much more than write a few traffic tickets.

“I’d like to help Emmett, but they got me patrolling the roads outside Guerneville mostly.  You’d think people would learn by now that River Road is a speed trap.”

“Just a thought,” Emmett said.  “Could sure use your help.”

“What’s the problem out there?” Joe asked.  “Too many teens getting drunk and throwing bottles?”

“Not much of that.  We close up at night fall.  Just that there are undesirable sorts hanging around and scaring off the tourists.”

Joe was suspicious.  “What sort of undesirables are we talking about?”

“You know,” Emmett said as he flipped his wrist and pretended to be gay.

Joe looked at Emmett like he was from another planet.  He was no fan of gays either, but they had a right to their existence – as much as anybody, he figured.  Live and let live was the way he saw it.

“Doesn’t sound like anything illegal is going on,” Joe said.  He knew better, but preferred to play ignorant.  Everyone at the sheriff department knew about the cruising that went on, but they couldn’t do anything about it unless someone complained and a law was broken.

“The problem,” Emmett said, “is that they carry on in the bushes.  I’m afraid some woman and her kids is going to walk by when two guys is going at it.  Sweet Jesus.  Could scar the kid for life.”

“Have you seen this sort of thing going on?” Joe asked.  “You got to have some evidence.”

“Well, I haven’t exactly seen guys fuckin, if that’s what you mean, but I seen plenty of evidence.  Used condoms are everywhere.”

“Circumstantial.  Aren’t there a lot of trails and such to hide on?  Not likely anybody would actually be seen.”

“What’s the matter?”  Emmett asked.  “You ain’t afraid of no sissies, are you?”

“What’s your problem?” Joe asked.  “They make you feel unsafe?”

“Shit no.  It’s just that it’s illegal.  It is illegal to have sex in the park, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s illegal to have sex in a public place.  That’s section 647(a) of the California penal code.  It’s what they call lewd and dissolute conduct.”

Emmett cared nothing for fancy words.    

“That means fucking without a license, I guess,” Joe said.

“I don’t care about no penal code number or what you call it,” Emmett said.  “I just want those faggots out of my park.”

Joe didn’t care for Emmett’s redneck ways, but he had a point.  It was his job to uphold the law, even if it didn’t seem like a high priority to him.

“I’ll look into the matter and get back to you,” Joe said, hoping the topic would go away.  He was more interested in scoring at the moment. The pickings though were slim to none.

. . .

            When Joe didn’t show up at Mike’s Recovery Room for three weeks, Emmett thought maybe he had said something to offend him.  A couple days later Joe calls and wants to get together over lunch.  Must be damn serious, Emmett thought, if he couldn’t talk about it over the phone.  In fact, he had never phoned before, so that made Emmett think something no good was happening.

            Sunday afternoon Emmett walked into Denny’s and found Joe at a booth, sipping a cup of coffee like it was cat piss.  Sure, it was awful stuff they made, but he had no call making faces like that.  It might upset the waitress, who was probably just getting by on tips.

            “What’s up partner?” Emmett asked.

            “I wanted to talk about that suggestion for you and me to be working together over at the park,” Joe said.

            “So, you’ve been thinking about it?” Emmett asked, hoping Joe would agree to the idea.

            “Sit down and let’s talk.”

            Emmett wondered why Joe looked so serious all of a sudden and why they were  meeting at a café.  He sat across from Joe, on the red plastic cushioned seat.  The waitress came over and handed him a menu and asked what he would like to start off with.

            “I’ll just have whatever brew my buddy here is having.”

            Joe looked a little disconcerted.  Emmett wasn’t sure if it was the coffee he was ordering or his choice of words.  Joe looked down at his coffee, swirled it a little, and looked up at Emmett and said nothing.

            “Well,” Emmett said.  “Out with it.  Something is troubling you, I can sense it.  So, speak your mind.”

            “I’ve been thinking seriously about what you suggested, us working together and all.”

            “And?”

            “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

            “And why’s that?” Emmett asked, a little put off.

            Joe stalled again.  “The truth be known, I don’t like the way you were talking about faggots.”  Joe made quotation marks with his fingers.

            Emmett started to laugh but noticed Joe wasn’t smiling.  “I don’t mean anything by it.  That’s just the way us country guys talk.”

            “Not everyone from rural America talks like that,” Joe said.  He grew up in the South, same as Emmett, and seen enough prejudice to last him a life time.

            “Well, la de da.  Aren’t you the fancy one?”  Emmett looked Joe over.  “Say, you ain’t queer, are you?”

            “Hell no.  But what difference would it make?  It’s just plain low class to be talking trash about other types of people.”

            Emmett didn’t appreciate being called low class.  Who the hell appointed this guy to be his judge and jury?  He started to pull away from the table.

            “Sit down Emmett,” Joe said.

            “Go fuck yourself.  Mr. high –“

            “I said, sit down!”

            That shut Emmett up mid sentence.  He was shocked that Joe had the balls to talk to him like that.  A lesser man would have had his teeth knocked down his throat.  He took his seat and crossed his arms in front of him.  “I’m all ears.”

            “Listen,” Joe said.  “I’m a professional.  It’s my job to enforce the law.  If people are breaking it, I suppose I should be concerned, but I will not engage in bigotry while I’m doing it.  If this gets approved by my boss and I agree to do it, it has to be on my terms.”

            Emmett wasn’t so sure he liked being dictated to by the likes of this rookie, but he was curious where this was going.

            “What do you have in mind?” Emmett asked, hopeful that Joe was reconsidering.

            “You show me where the problem areas are, then you take off and leave me to do my job.”

            Emmett thought about it a moment.  He could live with that.  “Then, we have an agreement?” he asked, extending his hand to seal the deal.

            Joe smiled and accepted the handshake.  “Contingent upon approval by my boss, I guess so.  But remember, leave the law enforcement up to me.”

            “You got it,” Emmett said.  “Now what shall we order?  The waitress is looking over this way.”  Emmett leaned over and whispered to Joe, “Get anything but the chili  and fries.  I had some here last week and I shit my guts out for three days after.”

. . .

            A couple weeks later Joe shows up at their usual watering hole looking better than he had in awhile.  A new haircut, Emmett guessed, or maybe it was that he missed him.  Emmett came up to him and slapped him on the back.  “How you been partner?”

            “Not bad,” Joe said.  “I got good news for you.  My request for  park patrol came through.  I’d still have to watch for speeders along River Road, but I’m allowed a couple hours a day to work the Wohler Bridge area.”

            “That’s good news,” Emmett said as a matter-of-factly.  He didn’t want to appear too eager, but the truth was he was looking forward to having Joe around.  He wasn’t sure why, it was just so.

            The next afternoon Joe shows up at the park and looks around for Emmett.  His SUV was in the parking lot, but he didn’t see Emmett right away.  So, he decided to go walking, figuring that’s what he was getting paid for.  It was nice to get out of his squad car for a change.  Walking up to a stopped car and giving the driver a ticket was as much exercise he got most often.  He walked around for half an hour, following a gravel path down to the river’s edge and walked the bank for a mile or so, in and out of willow patches.  The Russian River in October was at low level, carrying an occasional canoe rider down its gentle current.  Joe knew full well that come winter most of the trail he was on would be under a couple feet of water and the river would turn into dangerous rapids.  Every year some damn fool needed rescuing from a thrill ride down that river. 

Joe saw no sign of anything more illegal than some teenagers fishing without a license.  That kind of thing Emmett could handle.  No doubt about it, he could get used to this sort of job.

            On his way back to his car Joe spotted Emmett coming from another trail.  “Where have you been?” Joe asked as he waved at Emmett.

            Emmett came up to him smiling from ear to ear, like a kid at Christmas.  “About time you show up,” he said.  “It’s a pretty big park, as you probably noticed.  I could be out here half a day and not see the same tree twice.”

            “So, where’s all this law breaking you talked about?” Joe asked.  “I only saw a handful of people down by the river.  There’s a big time crime spree of people fishing without their licenses.”

            Emmett chuckled.  “Yeah, those fishermen are a dangerous bunch of hardened criminals.  But that’s not what you came for.  If you want to know where all the faggots are …”

            Joe squinted his eyes and pursed his lips in disapproval.

            “Sorry.  I forgot.  The GAY GUYS are up along that hill side,” Emmett said while pointing to a steep thicket of madrones and bay laurel.  “That’s where all the carrying on happens.”

            “It doesn’t look like many casual hikers are likely to run into anything they wouldn’t want to see.”

            “What does that matter?  The evidence is all around and you know by the looks on some of those guys faces that they have been up to something.”

            Joe sighed and decided to see it through.  “Show me where.”

            Emmett started at a fast clip up through the brush toward the cruising grounds.  Joe, though a few years younger, could hardly keep up with him.  When they reached a plateau, where a new trail ran through, Joe stopped and caught his breath.  Emmett wasn’t even breathing hard.

            “You don’t need to go to no gym if you did this every day,” Joe said.

            “Yeah, it can keep you fit,” Emmett admitted.  A couple men in their late twenties  walked by them, like it was no big deal to run into a sheriff officer and a park ranger.  “See.  What did I tell you.  Like they own the place.”

            “Show me the evidence.”

            Emmett looked at him like he was from another planet.

            “I mean, show me the evidence that a crime has been committed.”

            “Just a little ways up here,” Emmett said as he led the way further into the trees.  They walked another ten minutes, carefully stepping around poison oak and blackberries.  They came to a clearing, with a few fallen trees creating a room of sorts, sheltered from outside view.  The ground was scattered with a few used condoms and their wrappers and some used Kleenexes.

            “There is a litter problem here, that’s for sure.”

            “Get serious,” Emmett said.  “You know exactly what you are looking at.  I bet some of it was from those guys we met coming up here.”

            “It does look like something has transpired here recently, but unless I see someone committing a crime, I don’t have evidence to arrest them.”

            “I don’t think anyone is going to pose and let us take pictures,” Emmett said.

            Emmett had a way of stating the obvious that made him both endearing and aggravating at the same time.

            “If you want to catch someone doing something illegal,” Joe said, “you have to set up a lookout.  I need to come up with a way to spot someone without them knowing it.”

            “Great idea.  How should we do it?”

            “We?” Joe asked.  “Remember our agreement.  You are going to leave the law enforcement up to me.”

            Emmett looked at the dirt and kicked it in front of him.  “I guess a bargain is a bargain.”  He sorely wanted to be a part of the action, but he was thankful to get assistance anyway for what was bothering him.

            It was beginning to get dark outside, so Joe and Emmett hiked back to their cars.  They passed a few other guys of various ages, sizes, and shapes along the way.  Joe was surprised to see how casual each passerby was.  Emmett guessed they could afford to look so cool because he hadn’t seen them do anything illegal.  The gall of it irritated him a little, but he wasn’t going to let it get the best of him.  Things would change soon enough, once a few of them got taken away in handcuffs.

. . .

            The next afternoon Joe retraced his steps, until he got to the spot where the sexual activity seemed to be taking place.  He decided to hide in the bushes above the site until he could see something worth arresting someone for.

            He hunkered down in those bushes for nearly thirty minutes before he saw a soul.  Two middle aged men strolled into the clearing.  On was wearing tight blue jeans and a plaid green flannel shirt.  The other was wearing loose fitting trousers and an untucked blue long sleeve shirt. 

As soon as they thought no one was watching, the first guy starts stroking the other man’s groin with the palm of his hand.  Then the other guy starts responding by doing the same to his partner.  Joe wasn’t sure if that part was legal or not, but it wasn’t worth the effort to book someone on.  Before long both guys were rubbing up against each other and kissing – mouth locked on mouth.  “Get a room,” Joe was thinking.  It wasn’t right for anybody to get that hot and heavy in a public place.  Still, it didn’t seem illegal, so he let it pass.  It was the first time he  had seen two guys getting passionate over each other.  He didn’t like it, he told himself, but he was also feeling the crotch of his pants getting tighter than he was comfortable with. 

It wasn’t long before the line of decency was getting crossed.  The man in the flannel shirt starts unzipping the other guy’s pants; then reaches in and pulls out the biggest cock he ever seen.  The other guy does the same.  Before you know it the two of them had their pants down around their ankles and were jerking each other off.  That was definitely lewd conduct, but Joe held back, curious to see what might happen next.  It wasn’t often he had a front row seat at a porn session.  One man drops to his knees and starts sucking on the other.  That part about made Joe sick to his stomach, but he was also feeling mighty hard himself.  If he wasn’t in a public place, he might have whipped out his own equipment to get some release. 

It was then that it hit Joe.  He was expected to do something about this.  That was his job and what they were doing was not right.  Joe stood and arranged his own package, then walked into the clearing just as one of the men was shooting his load. 

“Gentlemen, take a seat,” Joe said in as firm and detached of a voice as he could muster.  They each pulled up their pants and sat on the ground.  He proceeded to get identification from each and ask them a few questions.  “How often do you come here?  Who is your employer?  Have you ever been arrested here before?”  There were other questions he wanted to ask, like “What the hell were you thinking?” but he kept them to himself.

All this time the man in the flannel shirt was saying, “Oh shit.  My life is over.”  That man was a teacher, he found out, and Joe imagined his professional life might very well be over.   This wasn’t the time to tell him so though because he was hyperventilating and nearly had an asthma attack.  Joe tried to reassure him by telling him lies like, “You’ll be out of jail in a couple hours.”  Luckily the man didn’t need to use his inhaler, though he came close a couple times.  The other man didn’t say anything unless spoken to.  He sat and took it like a man who had done this before, though he never admitted to it.  Neither man asked to see an attorney before answering questions.  If they had, Joe would have been obligated to read them their Miranda Rights before they were arrested.  Get as much information from the suspect as you can before you arrest them; that’s what he was taught.  He didn’t write the rules, he just played by them.

By the time the suspects were booked and he finished his paper work it was 6:30 pm – and hour and a half of overtime pay, which sounded pretty good at the end of the day.  It was Friday night and he was eager to head out for Mike’s, down a few beers, talk to Emmett, and find some willing lady to spend the night with.  He was tired, but also horny as a stag deer in rut.

. . .

            When Emmett saw Joe’s car in the lot that Friday he knew that his friend was out on a trail, doing what he asked.  Sure, he agreed to stay out of the way, but he had to have a peak at how it was done.  In all the years he had been working the park he never once caught anyone in the act of having sex, though he came close a few times.  Joe was surely doing God’s work, whether he knew it or not.

            Emmett walked quietly along the cruising trail, but turned off well before the clearing so he could see a pro at work.  He arrived just in time to get a good view of Joe putting on the handcuffs and leading the suspects to his squad car.  “Two less fags,” he muttered to himself.  “If only I had been five minutes earlier I could have seen the whole show.” 

He wondered for a moment what it would be like to see man on man action, but quickly dismissed the thought as sick and not worth dwelling on.  Still though, Joe did look pretty good standing there in his uniform.  Then the thought hit him.  Joe could pass for one of those gay guys. He kept himself clean and attractive enough.  Some queer was sure to fall for him.  Why not use him for bait?  Joe must have a worm as good as any to be hooked.  He would have to take that idea up with Joe, sell him on it if he could.

. . .

            When Emmett showed up at the Recovery Room and saw Joe sitting at the end of the bar, he wanted to stride right over and say, “Congratulations, you bagged your first fag.”  He knew that would never sail with Joe though, so he hid what he was thinking - or tried to anyway.

            Emmett walked over and calmly asked Joe if anything new happened today.  It didn’t matter that he knew the answer.  It was just to get him to talk about it.

            “I arrested two of them today,” Joe said.  There was neither joy nor remorse in what he was saying.

            “So, what did you see them doing?” Emmett asked, impatient to get to the heart of the matter.

            Joe ignored him at first, but Emmett eyed him for an answer.  “They were masturbating and sucking some,” Joe said.  “Then I arrested them.  What’s more to say?”

            Emmett placed his hand on Joe’s shoulder and shook his head with approval.  “Way to go good buddy.”

            Joe pulled away from Emmett’s touch.  “It’s my job,” he said and then looked at a couple girls playing pool.

            Emmett refused to be dismissed.  He got right in Joe’s face and said, “Listen, I don’t know what’s got you so pissy, but lighten up.”

            “I don’t take joy in the misfortune of others.  One of those guys I arrested today is a teacher.  He is likely to loose his job when his school finds out.”

            “As you said, you were doin your job and he had no business doin what he was doin.  There’s nothing to feel bad about.  Besides, the guy probably has an expensive lawyer to clear this up like it never happened.”

            “I suppose,” Joe said.

            “You need to get flat on your ass drunk and get laid,” Emmett said.  “That will make you forget all your troubles.”  Before Joe could turn him down, Emmett offered Joe another drink.

            Emmett wanted to talk about his plan to use Joe to catch more criminals, but decided to put that off for later.  There was no use pushing it on Joe before he was ready.

            After a couple hours, Emmett was feeling a little tipsy.  Joe wasn’t too far behind.  The local girls started looking better to both of them, but none were interested.  By midnight, Emmett was cut off at the bar.  Joe stopped of his own accord. 

Emmett was shit faced and ready to go home.  He started to reach in his pocket for his keys, but remembered the bartender had taken them away. 

“Joe, can you give me a ride?” Emmett asked.  “I lost my car for the evening.”  He looked at the bartender when he said it.

Joe knew he wasn’t up to driving.  So, he called them both a cab.  When it came to counting their money, they only had enough for one drop off.  So he had the driver drop them both off at Joe’s place, which was closer.

“Sssh,” Joe said as they staggered up the walk to his apartment.  “Don’t wake the neighbors.”

When they got inside they both headed for the threadbare sofa and collapsed.  After a few minutes Joe kicked off his shoes.  Emmett did the same.  “I’m beat.  Got to go lay down.  This couch has too many springs coming through the cushions.”  He headed for his bedroom and laid out on the king sized mattress. 

Emmett joined him, each on their own side, keeping a respectful distance.  They each peeled off their clothes, down to their shorts, laid back, and looked up at the cottage cheese ceiling.  They could hear bed springs squeaking in the apartment above them.

“Nice to know someone’s getting some action,” Joe said.

Emmett didn’t want to be reminded that it had been a month of Sundays since he had been so lucky.  “I had an idea earlier I’d like to pass by you.”  He wasn’t sure if Joe was listening, but he kept describing his plan.

“Sounds like entrapment to me,” Joe said.  “We’re not supposed to do that sort of thing.”

“Is it entrapment – Emmett was so drunk he could barely say the word – or just using what you have available to you?”

Joe looked over at him puzzled.

“All I’m saying is you got a good lookin body.  So, use it.”

Emmett seemed to be talking a little too freely, but Joe was too tired to object.

“Yeah,” Joe said.  “I’m a regular stud.”

They looked at each other and laughed.  Then Emmett looked at Joe again.  Maybe it was so.  Easy to see how come the ladies were all over Joe some nights. 

Joe noticed that Emmett had a little swelling in his shorts.  He remembered what he had seen earlier and he too had a growing bulge.  Before Emmett could object, Joe had reached over and held Emmett’s cock.  Emmett said nothing, just laid there in shock for awhile, then reached over himself and held Joe’s piece.  They moved closer to each other and began stroking each other until each came over their bellies.  They said nothing nor looked at each other in the eyes for the longest time.  Joe finally grabbed the towel he kept under the bed for such a purpose.  He wiped himself dry and then wiped Emmett, who had fallen asleep, or pretended to do so.  Joe looked up at the ceiling and felt his body slip away, feeling more rested than he had in a long time.

. . .

            When Emmett woke the next morning he found Joe wrapped around his backside, holding him tight.  Emmett sat up in bed like someone lit a fire under him.  Joe woke up too and they looked at each other several seconds before either said a word.

            “Did you … me …?” Emmett asked.

            “I guess so,” Joe said, looking a little confused.

            “Christ almighty,” Emmett said.  “What are we going to do now?”  Joe shrugged.   “Nobody’s to know about this,” Emmett said.  “You hear me?”

            Joe agreed.  It was no one else’s business.  What happened wasn’t supposed to happen and it was best forgotten.  Emmett started shaking with fear and remorse, muttering prayers to Jesus for forgiveness.  Joe, without thinking about it, reached over to put his hand on Emmett’s shoulder to calm him down. 

Emmett jerked his hand away.  “I don’t want you touching me.”  Then he looked at Joe and saw something he never seen before – eyes looking right into his soul, reading him deeper than anybody.  “Sweet Jesus, save me.”  But, it was too late.  His fate was sealed.

Joe felt it too, something drawing them closer, something that won’t let either of them be.  He put his hand up to Emmett’s face and wiped a tear from his cheek.  “I don’t know what’s happening here, but it’s going to be alright.”  Joe held Emmett in his arms, rocked him and let him cry like a baby.  “It’s going to be okay.  I promise.”  Then he kissed Emmett on the lips, at first a peck, then a full on lip locker.  Joe couldn’t help himself.  Emmett resisted a little at first, but then gave in.

Joe felt like a teenage boy exploring the body of a girl for the first time.  His shaking hands were all over Emmett, his fingers moving around Emmett’s nipples and gently stroking the hairs on his chest, moving down the taut muscles of his partner’s belly to the mound of hair and growing flesh. 

Emmett lay before him as though he had never been touched by anyone before.  His skin was goose bumps and a dew of sweat; his nerves were on fire, feeling every stroke of Joe’s fingers moving across him.  Every kiss on his abdomen caused his back to arch, inviting Joe to explore between his spreading legs.  If this was Satan’s spell, he had no desire to be released from the curse.  He would have resided in hell for eternity to have this one moment of bliss, this one moment of peace. 

They figured out the love making as they went along, as though the instructions were imprinted into their genes.  Lips and tongues moved over every inch of skin; there was no part untouched, no part not tasted and caressed.  There was no going back now for either of them.  When it was through, they were left drained, with nothing but sweat and semen to show for it.

. . .

            The weekend passed, hardly leaving Joe’s bed.  They talked about what was to happen next, but came to no conclusions except to accept what fate had thrown their way.  Each of them was a new creature, exploring uncharted territory, not knowing what the answers were, but hearing the questions for the first time. 

Monday morning came and they had to go to work, whether they wanted to or not.  Emmett had more toilets to clean and Joe had to catch more speeders.  The afternoon would bring them back together, but they could not risk being themselves.  There was a path already set before them.  They had no choice but to take it.  The real life between them would have to wait for secret places, behind closed doors.    

They agreed the public sex had to be stopped, though Emmett’s zeal to pursue it was waning.  It was Joe’s job to uphold the law, regardless of his personal feelings.  They couldn’t risk being seen as soft on crime, not after all the trouble it was to get Joe there.  Not after what they had done together.

They met in the parking lot of the park later that afternoon.  Joe brought Emmett a tall cup of Starbuck’s coffee and had a cup for himself.  “Here,” he said, offering the beverage.  “This is a damn sight better than Denny’s.”  They sipped their coffee quietly, standing as close to each other as they dared.  Joe wanted to reach over and kiss Emmett, right then and there, in front of whoever might be watching.  He settled for a touch of his fingers against Emmett’s khaki pants.  Words were few and awkward, not the ones either of them wanted to say.

After he finished his coffee, Joe turned and looked Emmett in the eyes.  “I am going out there as bait, just like you asked, but with a different purpose.  If I can warn these guys about what they are doing, maybe I won’t have to arrest so many.”

Emmett stared at the asphalt near his feet.  “I was wrong to suggest it,” he said.  “Was wrong ‘bout lotta things.  Can’t blame you if you find someone better.”

“There ain’t no one better than you,” Joe whispered. 

“Wish to Jesus that was so,” Emmett said.  “Maybe I should join you.  I’ve got some words need eatin.  Things I’ve said ‘bout others that need takin back   This would be my way of making up for it.”

“I love you Emmett Dawson,” Joe said, as he leaned in and kissed Emmett on the mouth.  He didn’t care now who heard it or who saw it.  He removed the gold wedding band from his finger and grabbed Emmett’s hand.  “This is better suited for you,” he said as he put the ring on Emmett’s finger.

Emmett looked around, then planted a big one on Joe’s lips.  “Looks like I’m stuck on you now for good.”

END