Professional bonding

I didn't usually consider spending my spare time with the department Neanderthals a decent way to enjoy my Saturday off, but my captain requesting a day trip with my subs to 'socialize' was hardly a task I could delegate.

So here I was, deliberately ignoring the machismo and bromances that the younger cops seemed to entertain, as we walked into the spa entrance to spend a day of - and I quote - "professional bonding" which I knew would turn into a night of dragging shitfaced cops - who should know better - out of the pool bar before they drowned themselves.

Ramirez walking behind me delivered his usual rants and ignorant half-knowledge that the majority of the American population seemed to be prone to these days. On duty, I'd call him out on it, but tonight I intended to let the boys be stupid. I knew once they'd be nursing their third beers I would silently vanish to a dark corner and pretend I didn't know these drunk assholes. My ears peaked up when I heard one of the newbies behind us speak up, interrupting Ramirez in whatever hateful bullshit he was sharing with the men. Ramirez turned back to the kid and the guys almost bumped into him, eventually pulling the group to a stop.

I sighed and turned toward my subordinates, all of them dressed mainly in leather jackets and jeans instead of the black uniform I usually saw them in. Ramirez inhaled sharply.

"You're shitting me? You're what?", he spat at the kid. One of the officers in training who just completed his introduction period and was soon to be paired permanently with a fellow cop to roam the streets, walked up to him and stared him down, his jaw set.

"I said I'm gay, so stop talking shit like that, okay?", the kid growled. Gotta give it to him. He had balls. Not particularly smart to make an enemy of Ramirez, but still. I hoped he didn't jeopardize his opportunity of teaming up with a seasoned cop. Chances were, most colleagues wouldn't feel comfortable having a queer to back them up. It was some inherently homophobic superstitious bullshit that had somehow survived among the force. No one knew that better than me. After 20 years in that damn job, I knew staying in the closet was my only chance to survive among these assholes. That and making sure the men respected me. No, make that feared me.

So, yeah. The kid sure had balls.

Ramirez' face turned dark with rage. "I can't believe that cocksucker. What are you even doing here? Ogling real men in the showers so you can jerk off to the memory of us while your queer loverboy tongues your asshole?"

The kid turned white before he balled his fists and... Enough was enough.

I stepped between the men and put my hands flat on Ramirez' and the kid's (Decker, was it? ) chests.

"Ramirez! Stop fucking around. The boy ain't none of your business. You don't want to be partnered with a gay cop? Fine. But don't hate on one of ours just because he's different. You of all people should know what that's like. Where were you born again, huh? Mexico City?"

I put as much authority into my voice as I could. Ramirez shrank back and averted my eyes. Good boy. He knew as well as I did, had Trump been in office when Ramirez applied for the force, he'd have found himself on a one way flight back to the slums instead of sitting in an air-conditioned car all day, feeding on donuts and whatever Mexican shit *Mrs* Ramirez packed for him each day, like the 12 year old schoolboy he actually was.

"Never mind, lieutenant. Forget I said anything. Just make sure that faggot stays well away from me."

He looked at me with cold eyes and walked on. I noticed the men around us watching the exchange uneasily, a few of the guys walking around Decker as if he suddenly carried a contagious disease. Shit, I hated to see this.

The boy was still rooted to the spot, his eyes fuming and disappointed. I beckoned him to follow. "Come on, kid. Ramirez is an asshole. Don't take his bullshit to heart, okay?"

He nodded and walked behind me into the spa.

Professional bonding? Yeah, right. It was bullshit. This time, I hated to be right, though.


A couple of hours later -still late morning, mind you- most of my men had had more than their share to drink and were horsing around in the warm water, riding each other's backs, while waving their cocktail glasses above their heads. I should probably make a cellphone snapshot and put it in each of these guys' staff files. That would make the next staffing review much more interesting and bring home to the captain that this bonding bullshit was nothing but a waste of time.

Guys who were already fighting at work didn't need to be friends off work - and cops who were friendly with each other didn't need a spa to reinforce that fact.

I decided to wander off and enjoy the spa by myself a bit. I was sure I'd hear the life guards if one of my men *did* actually drown in that damn pool bar. I didn't particularly like the fake palm trees and tropical fish tank grotto that made the pool bar a popular place for screaming children and parents who started their intoxication way before lunch.

So I went to the sauna area, dropped my trunks, enjoying the sensation of walking in the nude, and felt my way inside one of the dark steam rooms to cherish the quiet, far away from noisy kids.

The steam was already well on the way and I didn't see a thing in the moist heat, my fingertips searching for the tiled bench to sit down. I felt the feet under me just when I stepped on them. Trying to avoid slamming into the person sitting in the dark before me, I slid on the slippery floor and felt strong arms on my back, keeping me from hitting the edge of the bench going down. Steadying myself, the strong grip on my skin eased and slipped away.

"Thanks. Sorry I stepped on you. I don't see a thing in here," I said and sat down next to the man.

"No worries, Sir", a familiar voice responded.

Sir? I squinted my eyes. "Decker?"

The familiar eyes gleamed in the dark mist in front of me. Of course it was him. I hadn't seen him at the bar. Should have known he was hiding.

"Why are you not out there getting shitfaced? It's rare the department puts out like this, so better take what you can get", I joked and smiled.

Decker didn't respond right away. He sighed.

"You know why, Sir," he said. An awkward pause stretched between us. I hated to point out that 'socializing' wasn't working like that. But then he sure as hell knew that already.

"Thanks for speaking up for me, Sir," he eventually added, breaking the silence.

I sighed. "Don't 'Sir' me, kid. We're off duty and supposed to have fun. I'm Greg," I held out my hand, which he shook awkwardly.

"Thanks, Greg. Please call me Ben. I ain't a kid anymore," he smiled.

I watched him in the dark, his body a bright shape looming next to me in the billowing steam.

"I can see that. You're an athlete, right? We need guys like you on the force. Guys who don't lose their breath chasing after someone on foot, just because they've gotten fat eating donuts all day."

He chuckled at that, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. Damn, he sounded young - and hot. A dangerous combination.

"Yeah. I'm into bodybuilding. I just competed in the USBF Miami. Just for fun. Didn't win anything, but it was great seeing all these guys in person, doing their thing." He smiled, white teeth shining brightly.

"That's awesome, Ben. You sure look impressive. How long've you been doing it?"

He sat up, puffing up his chest.

"Ten years. You gotta stay with it or it's no use doing it at all."

He ran his hand across his chest, feeling the muscles that he earned through years of training. I could see his smooth skin sparkle with sweat. It was dark, but I did notice the ripple of muscles under his skin as he moved.

"Impressive. May I?" I lifted a tentative hand, wondering if he'd be comfortable letting me touch his biceps.

In response, Ben lifted his arm and flexed his muscles. I ran my palm across his swollen biceps, feeling the muscle hard as steel under my fingers. Running my fingers toward his elbows, I continued to caress his lower arm, feeling raspy stubble there.

"Do you shave your whole body?"

He lowered his arm, letting me stroke up and down his forearm, the rasp of his hair growing back an electrifying sensation under my fingers.

"Only for competitions. The legs are tough, though. I'm a bit on the hairy side."

I wasn't sure if the heat in that steam had melted all my common sense or if I had just gone crazy, but I lowered my hand to touch his upper thigh, stroking from his knee up to his groin, feeling the same raspy stubble on his leg.

What the fuck was I doing touching that kid in a steam room like this? He had every right to file a complaint against me. I shuddered about THAT particular talk with the captain. Still, right in that moment I didn't care.

I felt Ben freeze up, the huge muscles in his thigh going rigid.

I withdrew my hand.

"Sorry," I swallowed. "I'm pretty hairy myself. I imagine shaving it all off must be a bitch."

What a lame excuse. I had better shut up.

Ben didn't say anything. I almost jumped when I felt his hand carefully settle down on my thigh, stroking up and down the coarse hair there, from my knee up to my groin, just like I had done to him.

"I... I don't mind, Greg. Do you?" He whispered.

His palm was hot on my already heated skin, sweat making the touch slippery. He reached my groin and let his finger touch my slowly rising shaft. The head jumped and brushed his fingers. He went higher, caressing the hair on the base of my cock, continuing his way up my flat stomach and hairy chest.

My nipples hardened, anticipating the touch of his fingers. When it came, I couldn't help but moan quietly.

"I like your body," he said.

I might have been pushing forty, but working my days off in my brother's construction business had shaped my muscles and the sun shining down on me working shirtless had given me a deep tan. I knew I wasn't ugly. Still, feeling this young man's hands on me sent a jolt of arousal right to my groin.

I rose my hand and mirrored his touches, wandering over the ripples of Ben's smooth abs and huge pecs, his nipples hard and waiting to be caressed. He moaned.

I slid my hand lower, sweat making the motion fluid on his slippery skin. The base of his cock was shaved as well, the sharp rasp of stubble tickling my fingers. Jesus, he was huge. His cock was fully hard under my fingers, as I slowly pulled his skin back to reveal his pulsing head, the tip wet and slippery from precum under my touch.

"Shit, Greg. If you don't stop now, I gotta relieve myself right here, public indecency be damned," he said with a strained voice and pulled away from me.

I was an old fool and I knew it. Still, I grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward me, ridiculously happy when he complied. I moved his body down between my legs, spreading my own to settle him in front of me, his back to my chest. He melted against me, head resting on my shoulder. His body trembled as I hugged him close, his hard flat stomach rising and falling under my hand with each breath. I circled his nipples with my fingers and smiled against his cheek when he gasped.

I let my hand wander lower until they touched the hard shaft jutting in the air. I wanted to draw this out, make this good for him. But the voice in the back of my mind reminded me that someone might enter the steam room at any moment. Perhaps even Ramirez. And wouldn't that be a Kodac moment?

If I did this, I had to get him off quickly. Jerking him slowly, I began to knead his balls, letting go every so often to caress his muscled legs and belly.

His cock pulsed under my fingers and his breathing grew quicker.

He rolled his head on my shoulder, his lips brushing my cheek, like the shadow of a kiss.

"Greg...," he panted, his body writhing under my touch.

I felt the slick of sweat mingle with the precum oozing from his head. He moaned quietly, his hands rubbing up and down my hairy forearms as I jerked him off. My hand kneading his balls moved lower, caressing the skin on his perineum and I felt him move up my body to give me room. Following his invitation, I rubbed a finger against his puckered hole, already moist with sweat. He spread his legs further, pushing my own apart in the process. My cock was suddenly underneath his ass cheeks rubbing against his skin, much like my fingers looking for entry. I felt him tense up.

"Relax, I'm not gonna fuck you," I breathed into his ear, rubbing my thumb across his cock to make him shiver.

He rested his head back on my shoulder and opened up his body to me. I slipped my finger inside, reaching in as far as the angle allowed. I felt his cock pulse in my hand when my fingers rubbed across his spot. He moaned, much too loud for the circumstances we had found ourselves in, so I did the only thing I could think of and melted my lips against his, swallowing his cry in my mouth. His rushing breath filled my lungs as I sealed our mouths together and I felt his cock pulse in my hand, the rush of orgasm pumping his seed through the thick shaft, his slit gaping to release jets and jets of warm milky cum on my trembling fingers.

I felt Ben breathe heavily through his nose, the rush of air hot on my heated cheeks, while our tongues chased each other in what was probably the most intense kiss of my life.

He broke the connection first, trailing away by sliding his tongue slowly across my cheek.

Coming to my senses, I slipped my finger out of his ass and waited for him to get up. He grabbed my wrist looking at the cum streaked fingers with a surprised look on his face.

I freed my hand and brought the wet fingers to my lips, licking away the evidence of his pleasure. He stared at me with wide eyes.

Swallowing his taste, I smiled at him.

"I'm gay too, you know? No need to look shocked."

He looked down to my cock, still hard and leaking. Without another word, he dropped to his knees and swallowed me down, his lips closing around the base of my shaft, while my head entered his throat, the sensuous feeling of his swallowing around me sending me over the edge.

Caressing his stretched lips with my fingers, I felt his tongue lap against the underside of my cock, waiting for the pulsing that announced my own climax. I bit back a groan as I came, the sensation almost knocking me unconscious with the added heat of the steam room. My fingers caressed his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down, swallowing every last drop I gave him.

Releasing my cock from his mouth, he tongued my head clean, eventually kissing my hairy belly, resting his head on my chest, as if he was unsure about the proper protocol after blowing his lieutenant in a steam room.

I put my arms around him and kissed his head.

"Wanna spend the day with me? Just relaxing and soaking while these idiots get shitfaced?"

He looked up and nodded, his smile lighting up the dark room.

We sat staring at each other for a minute, until we were calm enough to return to proper decency.

I left the room and waited for him to follow me, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling in my belly that I wasn't sure my badass old self was still capable of.

Ben was lovely. He wasn't just a hot body - which he sure as hell was - but he was quick to smile and easy to talk to as well. Spending hours in the hot tub and sharing a late lunch in the spa's restaurant almost felt like a date and had me forget that I was supposed to entertain my men. My focus was only on one of them, though.

Lying in a whirlpool, enjoying hot bubbles around us, I felt his fingers tentatively brush mine, as if gauging my reaction to his touch.

I made the decision for him, though, and covered his hand in mine, holding it like two lovers sharing a hot tub.

It was insane, but right then it felt so right, nothing could have kept me away from this amazing man.

The hours grew late and the pool lights in the outdoor area started to illuminate the water in colorful shades. The hot water sent clouds of mist into the night, putting a veil across us and the kissing couples around us who shared the peaceful silence.

I watched Ben closely and felt his eyes dart longingly toward the happy couples nearby.

He caught my glance and quickly looked away, embarrassed by my low chuckle.

"Come here," I said and pulled him into my embrace, folding his legs around me so he was sitting in my lap in the dark corner of the pool. The position was slightly sinful, with only our trunks preventing me from actually melting into him, the way I found myself wanting ever since our hot encounter in the morning.

"What are you thinking?" I whispered into his ear, rubbing my cheek against his. He tightened his arms around me, every move of his huge muscles like a ripple against my skin. "What I'm thinking? I can't believe I'm making out with THE Lt. O'Donnell, for one. You're a hero to everyone. I still can't believe you're gay," he laughed softly.

"And I can't believe you had the guts to come out like this to all the guys. Takes guts to do that, Ben. I've never found the courage."

He caressed my neck and looked into my eyes.

"You think there'll be consequences?", he asked, eyes searching mine.

"I'll make sure there won't," I said, cutting the conversation short by coaxing his mouth to open for mine, his tongue welcoming me, the rush of warmth stoking the fire in my belly, still looking for a hint of my taste on his tongue. I had fucked my share of guys, but never had I wanted to call any of them mine. Not the way I wanted Ben to.

I fleetingly wondered about the 15 years between us. Or the ranks separating us at the precinct. Would he even want me? A fuck in a steam room hardly qualified for a relationship. Only one way to find out.

I cast the thoughts aside and concentrated on the man in my arms and the soft rasp of his cheek against my lips as we competed with the couples around us, displaying the affection we felt for each other for everyone to see.

Kissing hardly ever felt so right.


Two hours later, we finally caught up with the guys at the pools. Most of them were drunk and still horsing around like underage fools, annoying other guests. I was glad they didn't wear a badge tonight, or I'd be sure to file away complaints like crazy before calling it a night.

"Look who's here, the fag. You done blowing guys in the sauna?", Ramirez babbled, sloshing his beer around, parts of it landing in the water around him. Whoever thought it was a good idea to put a bar *inside* a pool was hopefully scrubbing toilets somewhere now.

I was too old and hardened to let his words cut me, but Ben stiffened again, dropping back as we approached.

I directed an angry glare at Ramirez and put my full authority in my tone.

"You shut the fuck up now, Ramirez, unless you want to talk directly to the captain about the misconduct you displayed tonight." I grabbed Ben possessively on his neck and drew him to my side.

"Decker is gay. So what? I'm gay too, and I expect my men to treat each other with respect. Am I clear?" I basically yelled at him by then and pointedly ignored the men turning still around us.

"What...?" Ramirez looked confused. "All of a sudden, you're a fag too?!"

I pressed down reassuringly on Ben's neck.

"Always been queer. But it took Decker here to find the courage to come out. And I'd be damned honored if he would consider dating an old bastard like me."

I glanced at Ben, loving to see the surprised look on his face. He suddenly grabbed my chin and pressed a soft kiss on my cheek.

"I'd love to date you."

The awkward silence gave way to loud wolf-whistles and good-natured cheers, but Ramirez regarded us with disgust and turned away, muttering Spanish curses, no doubt.

"Someone got lucky, huh?", Silverman said, clapping me on the shoulder. Aimed at Ben, he said,

"You picked well, Decker. O'Donnell won't ever let you down." He raised his fist, waiting for Ben to bump it. Silverman was Ben's training officer, so I knew it meant a lot to Ben to hear these words from him.

"Sure thing, Sir", he smiled, bumping the offered fist.

I drew him in for a hug, enjoying the unusual freedom in front of my men.

"Thank you," Ben whispered in my ears. I pressed my lips on his cheek and finally found his lips again.

I knew things would be alright. The captain would probably have a heart attack, though. I laughed at that thought and closed my eyes, falling into the sensation of kissing my lover.


"Professional bonding" never sounded sweeter.