Read Toronto Tales 1 - Cop Out Online
Authors: KC Burn
Toronto Tales 1 - Cop Out (11 page)
“Good, good. We were trying to get Davy out for his birthday on Saturday, but he says he’s not ready for a night on the town, so we thought we’d hang out at his place. I know he’s friends with you… were you interested in joining us?”
“Davy’s birthday is on Saturday?” Why didn’t he know this? “No, it’s actually the following Tuesday.”
Kurt disconnected the call, wishing it was Saturday already. Saturday was supposed to be his first day off in fifteen days, and he’d be fucking bitter if something screwed it up now. Of course, he’d have to find a present for Davy. What the fuck was he going to get? Had to have some colors in it. Davy looked so alive wrapped up in his quilt, and Kurt had never been able to shake the memory of the patchwork colors hidden in Davy’s closet.
“Looking forward to Saturday, is all.”
“Don’t I know it. Got plans?”
“I do now.”
“Date?” Simon asked. If it had been anyone else, the word would have had a mocking edge but Simon was merely concerned.
Kurt smiled. “No. Just a small birthday party for a friend.”
, he walked with Simon to lunch, but he couldn’t focus on a conversation. Kurt still had no idea what to get Davy for his birthday. Their friendship had grown out of tragedy, not mutual interests, and he didn’t know what kind of gift would be appreciated. Gifts for friends he worked with were either booze or a money collection where someone else was ultimately responsible for choosing the gift.
Being the youngest, his family had gotten into the habit of telling him what to buy for other family members, and quite frankly, they’d never stopped. At least, he hoped it was habit and not some misguided notion regarding his capability.
Although, he had started to take that guidance for granted. This might be the first time he’d buy a present for someone without prompting, and he was completely stumped. He’d never even had a girlfriend long enough to buy gifts.
The window was filled with fuzzy lamps, chairs with fun fur and feathers, funky frames, and soup bowls sporting legs and toothy grins. He wasn’t sure if he was making clichéd assumptions based on that one closet and Davy’s sexuality. Could he find something Davy would like here? His fingers hovered over his pocket, wanting to call someone— Jon—to help him. But then, Jon had only recently returned to Davy’s life after a long absence.
Kurt took one last look at the storefront and caught up to Simon. “Did you want to stop in there? I can wait.”
“No, it’s fine. I just never noticed that place before.”
Simon’s eyebrows quirked up but he started walking again rather than questioning Kurt’s lack of observation. Kurt ambled along beside. He was getting tired of thinking about it, but he’d be damned if he was going to talk about it too.
stood on Davy’s doorstep, mouth dry, palms sweating. His grip on the twelve pack of Belgian beer wasn’t exactly loosening, but it was close. Why the fuck was he so nervous? He’d had balls of steel when barging in on Davy’s grief, but Davy’s birthday party was making him as nervous as a naked virgin in a room full of drunken frat boys. Hell, he hadn’t even been this uneasy when he’d completely overstepped all polite bounds and ordered groceries for the man.
Muted music and an explosion of muffled laughter seeped through the door. He tucked the wrapped package under his arm, took a deep breath, and rang the doorbell.
extricated a bottle from the box and turned, noting the large number of snacks on the counter and table. He’d been hungry earlier, but he wasn’t quite up to eating. The dress shirt had been a mistake. It may be autumn, but between the extra people in here and his stupid nerves, it was fucking hot. Beer and present on counter, he rolled up his sleeves before grabbing both and striding into the living room.
Davy’s head lifted, and he got a dimpled—fuck, those dimples— smile. Davy hadn’t been genuinely happy for a long time, but Kurt knew now that those dimples were the litmus test.
“Hi, Kurt.”
“Hi, Davy. Happy early birthday.” He proffered his gift, hoping Davy wouldn’t open it. It surely wouldn’t compare to whatever his other friends had brought.
Davy sprang up off the sofa and took the package, ripping into the paper. Kurt’s ears burned. He should have gone back to the store by work, instead of chickening out and hitting one of the big bookstores.
“You said you like to cook and all….”
“Gourmet burgers, eh?” Davy flipped through the cookbook. “Sounds good. Thank you!” Davy gave him a quick hug, too fast for Kurt to even tense up or worry about his reaction. There wasn’t any disappointment in Davy’s brown eyes or his dimpled smile, so he made himself smile back. At least that was over with.
“Who is this hunk? And can I have him?”
Kurt’s blush returned in a flash. Somehow, he hadn’t expected guys to be hitting on him. A tiny blond sidled up to him, casually posed such that his hips thrust out suggestively.
“Shut up, Rick. This is Kurt. You can’t have him,” Davy said.
“Oh, staking a claim are you?” The sultry words were accompanied by a small hand rubbing along Kurt’s forearm.
Someone was going to have to turn the temperature down or open a window, because now both he and Davy were blushing.
“Rick, he’s straight!”
Jon clutched his stomach, laughing.
“No, say it isn’t so!” Rick continued to caress his arm. The sensation was odd because Rick was clearly a man, there was no mistaking the caress as coming from anything but a man’s hand, but his size, slenderness, and sparkly purple shirt were reminiscent of many girls he’d dated.
“Sorry, Rick.”
“What about brothers? Do you have any brothers, Kurt?”
“I’ve got brothers, but no gay ones.”
Rick gave him a fierce frown and another quick caress. Kurt should have slipped away. He didn’t know why he let Rick touch him, other than he’d grown up in a very demonstrative family. His personal space boundaries were smaller than most. Davy dragged Rick away anyway.
“Rick, behave. I told you he’s straight.”
“Uh-huh. Bet he likes blowjobs as much as any guy. And I’m damn good at them.”
Kurt had to laugh. Rick was the type who had to be the center of attention in every situation, but Kurt didn’t mind the comments.
Davy quickly introduced him to the other two men, a couple, Keith and David. He learned that Jon, Davy, and David were high school friends, and it was the friendship with David that prompted Davy to start going by Davy. David was a good name, but those dimples were more suited to a Davy.
Would have been a weird dynamic if Jon and Rick had been a couple, too, but that wasn’t the case; Keith and David were the only couple present.
Kurt sat back into the leather armchair and listened to the others catch up and reminiscence. He wasn’t able to tell if the three bonded because of common interests or because they’d all known they were gay, and he didn’t ask. That sort of nosiness he reserved for on the job.
Davy’s hands fluttered as he spoke, the animation and happiness unmistakable. Kurt didn’t believe for a minute Davy was completely out of the woods, but he was getting there.
Margaritas were mixed, but Kurt stuck to beer. He didn’t know what he expected at a party with a bunch of gay guys, but he relaxed as it appeared to be nothing more than any other party he’d been to, with slightly cruder and more ribald comments.
“Are we playing a game tonight?” Jon asked.
Game?
“I can turn the hockey game on for you, Kurt,” Davy offered. Davy wasn’t going to watch hockey? This must be some game—Davy liked hockey a hell of a lot more than he liked baseball, as Kurt had found out when hockey season started. Kurt liked hockey better too.
“Are you playing naked Twister?”
“No,” Davy sputtered.
“Oh, yes!” Rick gave him, or rather his crotch, a pointed stare.
Kurt rolled his eyes.
“Are you playing Spin the Bottle?”
Shaking his head, Davy loosed a little giggle.
“Can we?” Rick asked.
“Strip poker?”
“No!” Davy emphasized his denial with a swift chop of his hand. “Please?” That Rick was persistent.
Then, Davy laughed. And laughed. He fell onto the couch, eyes tearing as he whooped. Maybe it was the margaritas. Or the company. Kurt didn’t care how or why. Judging from the indulgent looks on his friends’ faces, neither did they.
“Just what sort of party were you expecting?” Davy gasped out as his laughter tapered off.
“Well, I wasn’t sure. But if you aren’t expecting me to get naked, I’m pretty sure I can handle whatever games you’re going to play.”
“Oh, honey, I have no doubt of that.” Surprisingly, Rick amused rather than irritated him.
“I won’t say no to having the hockey game on in the background, though. Check the score.”
Davy turned the TV on low while Jon pulled a few boxes out of a bag.
“We’ll start with a board game or two, then we usually graduate to cards. Poker, most times, or Asshole.”
Kurt lifted a brow. “You want me to play a game called Asshole with you lot?”
That brought back both Davy’s giggles and dimples. It wasn’t worth telling them he knew the game they were talking about, and he was an expert at the tiny bit of strategy that could influence a win in a game primarily based on luck. Poker was a better game for him, though. Most amateur poker players couldn’t bluff as well as some of the criminals he’d interrogated.
“I’ve never heard of any of these games before.” Kurt gestured at the boxes. His family had tons of board games—with seven kids, it was an inexpensive way to keep them occupied. But they were the standard ones everybody had played once or twice.
The games on the coffee table were elaborate and had tons of pieces, and if Kurt had to learn the rules on his own, it’d probably take him hours just to read the manuals.
Davy’s eyes had taken on the glow of a fanatic as they began. Jon and David quickly revealed themselves as fierce, almost obsessive competitors.
“Oh my God. You three were geeks in school, weren’t you? Gaming geeks.”
Davy looked up from his perusal of the board, a hint of pink splashed over sharp, model-worthy cheekbones he’d never before associated with those odd, brainy kids he’d admired.
“Oh. Uh. Yeah, kind of. I guess you’ve always been a jock?”
“Not really. It’s hard to be slated like that when all the usual ‘roles’ are taken by older siblings. But I’m surprised you don’t have a gaming console. I do love video games.”
He and Ian had had tons of scuffles and fights over the years over outcomes of games.
Unexpectedly, Davy curled up on himself. It wasn’t physical. Not much. More like his vibrancy faded. Kurt could kick himself. He should have known the oh-so-proper Ben wouldn’t approve of video games.
All of Davy’s friends noticed the subtle change in the atmosphere, but none of them seemed to know the cause. Kurt knew, like a neon sign had lit up over Davy’s head—the specter of Ben leaving landmines all over Davy’s social interactions.
Fuck. He had to fix this. He was having a good time, but more importantly, so was Davy. If only he could think of anything to say that wouldn’t make it worse.
“Hey, what happened to your arm?” Rick asked. Great. The worst fucking time for someone to notice his damned scar. More reminders of Ben for Davy.
“Nothing,” Kurt mumbled and rolled his sleeve back down.
“He was injured in the line of duty, not that it’s any of your business,” Davy said, a hint of protective spice in his tone. Determination limned his face, and he smiled a tremulous little smile. No dimples, but it was a start.
Kurt smiled back, hoping Davy could see the apology.
“Whose turn is it?”
, Kurt won the first game. They’d switched off the hockey game halfway through the first period when it became clear the outcome was going to be painful and depressing. With music on, Kurt threw himself into the game, but he was still a complete novice.
Thinking ahead, assessing the best moves for opponents and countering them were second nature on the job and came in handy for the game. David and Keith hadn’t been thrilled at the ease with which he picked up the rules, but sandwiched between Davy and Rick on the couch, he got plenty of praise too. He could even live with Rick’s… well… snuggling, for lack of a better word.
Jon set up the board for another game, and Kurt leaned back into the sofa. Davy popped up to get a fresh beer for Kurt while Rick poured more margaritas for everyone else.
Rick posed in Kurt’s sightline, hand on hip and pelvis thrust out, but he spoke to Davy. “Davy, you coming out with us for Halloween? We’re going to that new club downtown, called Empire.”
Davy’s side of the couch moved slightly as he shrugged. “Doubt it. Clubbing on Halloween is a little too crazy for me.”
“Oh, but that’s half the fun. All those hot, young guys, sweating and half-naked in whatever slutty costume they’ve decided on. The crowd is so massive, you can’t avoid touching, and there’s bare skin
everywhere
.” Rick shimmied his hips and drew his free hand sensually up the side of his torso.
Jon licked his lips. “Yeah, that does make it all worthwhile.”
Keith and David weren’t paying attention to the conversation as David seated himself on Keith’s lap and the two of them began kissing like there was no one else in the room.
Davy snorted. “Guys, we’re here because I can’t quite face a club on a
regular
weekend yet. Halloween is only two weeks away. Maybe next year. Although next year I’ll be thirty-three. I might have less energy then.”
“Wait, you’re turning thirty-two on Tuesday?” Kurt swiveled to face Davy, who blushed.
“I know, I look older, don’t I?”
Rick slapped Kurt lightly on the arm before wiggling back onto the sofa beside him. “Honey, you’re going to give him a complex, and then he’ll
never
go out with us.”
He didn’t want to bring up Ben, since Davy’s luminescence had hardly dimmed all night, but the only reason he’d assumed Davy was a lot older was because Ben had been forty-five when he died. Shit. Davy had just been a baby when he and Ben got together.
“Honestly, Davy, you look….” Kurt had no idea how to end that sentence. His sisters would slug him for even bringing the topic up. Davy sure looked younger than he was, when he got enough sleep.
“Oh, give the poor straight man a break. You’re making him squirm,” Rick said.
Davy flashed him a smile that said he was teasing. Whew.
“How old are
you
, honey?” Rick trailed a finger along his bicep. At least his tattoos were covered, otherwise Rick would probably be licking him by now.
“Thirty-one.”
“Oh-ho,” Jon crowed. “Davy, you’re no longer the baby here.”
Ah fuck. Kurt was getting tired of being the youngest.
“Oh, practically a twink,” Rick said suggestively. Kurt sure as shit wasn’t going to ask what a twink was. That’s what the Internet was for.
Even David and Keith took a break from sucking face to laugh at that statement.
“If he weren’t straight, he’d still be the least twinkiest of us all,” Davy said.
Rick pouted, but Kurt knew already it was more for effect than due to genuine pique. “So, hot stuff, did you want to come out with us on Halloween? You could dress like a slutty firefighter or slutty angel… I could get you a great costume.”
“Rick!” Davy’s voice held a warning. “He’s a cop, you know.”
“Well, I didn’t think he’d want to go as a slutty cop—busman’s holiday and all that—but you’d know better.”
Kurt couldn’t hold in the sputter of laughter. “As appealing as that sounds, I’ll either be working or hanging out at my sister’s place giving out candy.”
Rick sighed. “How sweetly domestic. What a waste.”
“Davy, do you hand out candy here?” Kurt asked, figuring it would be something Davy liked to do.
Davy’s eyes darkened just a bit. “No. I never have, but I’m going to Sandra’s to help her.”
Fucking Ben.
“Ready to play?” Jon asked and poked at David who’d started kissing Keith again.
