Glory.

4

I was trying to focus on everything around me but I couldn't—my brows furrowed as I suppressed my moans, my slowly arching back being accompanied by loud panting. "Fuck," My cheeks and chest were flushed and my muscles were tensing up all over my body as I eased closer and closer to my goal.

Once leaving the bathroom, I noticed the hesitance in Blu's face—it was possible he heard me masturbating but we chose against speaking about it though this was my third time 'taking a shit'. "Any luck?" I shook excess water from my hands before plopping back down onto the chair across from his desk.

We were knee deep in the case after someone dropped a hint about 'a drag queen walking away from the crime scene'.

We called around and no luck.

No drag queens were in that neighborhood.

"You think they were just talkin' about a big ass woman?" Blu joked. Lately, we'd been getting along but I suppose that's what happens when you have a job to do—you put petty differences aside.

Even though, Lt.Wallace gave us(mainly me) hell for the incident in the locker room, he trusted us with this delicate case. It was from a horror movie, it felt like—curfews, neighborhood watch, patrols everywhere. The person who'd done this was sick, no doubt. And we needed to get to the bottom of it.

"The guy was pretty adamant about it being a man in a dress." I said truthfully. Trust me, I questioned him for as long as I could—thinking that maybe he saw something he didn't or had mixed up a potential piece of evidence. "He said 'I know a nigga when I see one and sir, that was a nigga'." We both shared a laugh.

"Okay," he paused for a second, flipping through the file once more. "Our guess is that the bodies were there for only three to four hours since rigor had just started to set in." Glasses rested on his nose as he gave everything a once over.

"And the marks on their skin?"

"Stun guns." He answered. "I know those marks anywhere." He picked up the phone, still in deep thought. A phone book was now in his lap, his finger guiding the way as he glanced at a specific number. Whilst he called around, possibly for more tips, I looked at the victim's file again.

He was arrested before on an unrelated charge—sexual assault on a minor. We couldn't find any connections between a drag queen, statutory rape and the dead man's father but we kept our options open. Nothing was to be ruled out—No one wanted to talk so every little thing counted.

"Got a hit." Blu jumped up in excitement. Relief was evident over his usually hardened features—I'm sure I looked the same way. "Lucky Cheng's is a few miles from the crime scene. Wallace's is up my ass about us checking it out and asking around about it."

Ever since the incident with Fitz, Lt.Wallace got stricter. He was constantly nagging us about closing this case instead of sitting around with our dicks in our hands...his words. Truth is, I had lost hope for this case.

With a scared community who wouldn't dare utter a word to any police officer, the case was bound to turn cold. Despite the victims being buried, we were still at square one—not even one suspect in mind.

The car ride was silent, too silent for me. Blu hadn't uttered a word, just silently smoked his cigarette. Not even the radio was playing. "I hope they talk." I said lowly, slicing through the thick layer of silence. I didn't know how to take him lately so we kept quite a distance at times. He was moody, I was moody—both dominant personalities that could easily clash.

"Ha," he chortled sarcastically. "They're not gonna say shit to us—we're obviously cops." I nodded in agreement. Who were we fooling? "Which is why..." He trailed off, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he parallel parked across the street from Lucky Cheng's Drag Queen Bar. "We're gonna have to act like a couple, or we're on a date or something." He muttered matter-of-factly.

I'm sure he noticed the look of bewilderment my face held at that absurd shit that just left his mouth. What? "Look at us." I laughed, not fully believing him. He held a poker face as he glanced at our attire—collared shirts, slacks, gun holder, and badge. Clear distinction that we didn't belong. "These people smell a pig a mile away." A for effort, I thought.

"Obviously, Oden." He responded with slight boredom to his tone. "Reach into the back–it's a change of clothes back there for the both of us."

"Your clothes?"

"No, I stole them." Blu replied sarcastically. "Yes, Yanis. They are my clothes—sometimes I pull all nighters at the precinct, so I bring a change of clothes." He explained, noticing my hesitance.

"And you want us to change in here? Together?" I questioned, suddenly embarrassment filled the pit of my stomach. Luckily, it was dark so my heating cheeks weren't visible. He scoffed.

"Sorry, I didn't know changing infront of one man versus changing infront of a locker room full of them was completely different." Blu expressed. "Where else are we going to change, Yanis?"

"Okay, your point is made." I said. God, he could really act like he had a stick up his ass sometimes. Though, he did have a point, it still felt a bit awkward—now was more intimate than just me and a dozen other shirtless guys. I became self conscious, awkward, shy, if you will.

I began changing nonetheless.

"Just don't get a random boner at this hot bod." He attempted to joke, pulling his shirt over his head. I cringed at the 'joke', now wanting to curl up in a corner somewhere. We hadn't brought up my 'boner incident' in the plaza to which I was thankful but this, this was a bit too personal. "Sorry, was just jokin'." He said, realizing that I hadn't laughed along with him. It was silent for a moment, as I fiddled with the pockets on the cargo shorts I had on now—shame. I couldn't help that, even if I tried.

"Let's go." I cracked a forced smile.