Don't Judge (Nothing Special 4)

He looked down at his khaki shorts and open shirt over a gray wife beater and wished he’d gone home to change first, but he was already late as it was. He rang the doorbell, walking in at the same time. Going straight for the library, he peeked his head in and whistled, making his mom look up from her book. She smiled a broad, genuine grin. “Come here, beautiful. How are you?” she said, sliding off her chaise.

“Hello, Mother. I’m fine. You look beautiful and casually comfortable this evening.” He leaned down and kissed her on her smooth, ivory cheek. Her hair was pushed behind her ears and laying softly on her back. She was ten years younger than his father, but she was more mature than he was, in Michaels’ eyes.

“How’s work going, honey? You’re not doing anything dangerous are you? You promised.”

He reared back, looking at her like she was crazy. “Dangerous. Of course not.” He gave her his charming smile. “I’m in shorts and Jordans… how much dangerous stuff can I do dressed like I’m going to a barbeque?”

She swatted him on his arm, laughing with him when he heard his father’s throat clearing behind him. Kissing his mom once again, he turned and held his hand out for his father. His dad looked him up and down before finally clasping his hand.

“I guess it was laundry day,” his dad said, drily.

“It’s poker Dad, not a dinner party.”

“Honey, don’t pester him,” his mom said, from behind him. Always on his side. His dad ignored his wife; continuing to assess him.

“And you’re late. We started two hours ago.”

“I had work, Dad.”

“I had work, Dad,” his father said, perfectly in sync with him, shaking his head. Turning and leaving the room, he followed behind his father’s tailored slacks and buttoned-up collared shirt. Entering his father’s study, he saw there were two tables set up; both filled with older men in sets of five playing what looked like Texas Hold ‘Em. A few lingered by the wet bar, talking quietly. His father’s voice spoke over the chatter. “Well look what I rustled up.”

Michaels threw his hand up, putting on his best fake smile, nodding at the men as he made his way through the large room. “You gonna play a round with us, detective? Lose some of that hard-earned money you’re making now?” Michaels laughed, shaking Captain Lewis’ hand. He was one of the few friends of his father’s that he actually liked. He was sort of a mentor to him when he had been in his first few years as a rookie. Now he was a Captain in Zone 3. He knew of their planned bust tomorrow in his zone, but he’d never mention it here in the open.

“I might play a couple hands; I can’t compete with the big dogs.” Michaels schmoozed.

His father seemed to like his respectful answer and took his seat back at one of the tables.

I need a drink. Unfortunately, to get one he had to get over to the bar; which was currently surrounded by his father’s best friend Lieutenant Reed and his kiss-up son, Justin. With a stoic face he approached and reached his hand out. “Mr. Reed, how are you this evening?”

With a firm grip on his hand, Mr. Reed wasn’t the best at hiding his disdain. “Austin. Interesting you were able to make it. I was just talking to Justin about you the other day. He said he hadn’t seen you in months.”

Not since I’d fucked his brains out and he left my apartment almost wearing a goddamn disguise. Fuckin’ thirty-one-year-old closet case. Michaels and Justin fucked all through high school, but when Michaels wanted to call him his boyfriend, Justin freaked. Even through college they had sporadic dates on their holiday visits home. Michaels was not afraid of being gay; his family and colleagues all knew he was. If someone didn’t like it, then they were on his “fuck off” list. Easy. Justin was officially on that list. “Yes, Sir. Work is crazy, but it’s always good to step out into the open.” Michaels glanced at Justin, making sure he caught his dig.

Justin shook Michaels’ hand, the pulse in his neck throbbing beneath his flushed skin. The man had always been handsome. His years on the force had been good for his body too, Michaels wasn’t going to act like he hadn’t noticed. “It’s good to see you, Austin.”

Clearing his throat, he motioned to the bar. “You men mind if I get a drink?”

Both of them stepped aside and let him get to the glasses. Choosing Patron as his spirit for the evening, he poured a double and added a couple limes. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Justin watching him.

“So how’s it going on that task force?” Captain Reed asked him.