Ex Meridian (Nothing Special 7)

Ex undid the fourth button then finally dropped his gaze until it landed on his pecs. He slid one side of his shirt open, then gently placed his palm to the center of his chest.

Meridian gasped at the initial feeling of Ex’s freezing palm against the inflamed bruise. It felt... it felt amazing. How in the hell? Ex’s touch seemed to soothe the ache immediately.

“He got you pretty good, huh?” Ex said with a deep frown creasing his forehead.

“I’m fine,” Meridian answered again with more confidence.

“Yes, you are.”

Meridian closed his eyes and exhaled at the sound of that goddamn voice. He tried to focus on centering himself, tried to concentrate on his job but his breathing escalated enough that Ex noticed. He felt his partner leaning in as the touch of his breaths got closer, but he lifted Ex’s hand from his chest and linked their fingers together. They both stared at the strange contact, at their hands touching in such an intimate way, hands that served justice in the form of death.

“What is it?” Ex asked, the huskiness in his voice revealing what he wanted.

“Xavier.” Meridian pressed their foreheads together. “You can’t shift my mind like this in the field.”

“I know.” Ex licked his lips.

Meridian’s dick got even harder and he tried to ignore it, he did. But the problem was his balls had already grown cobwebs while he waited for the one person he desired. It was hard to go even another minute. He took his other hand and gripped the back of Ex’s neck and pulled him forward, giving them what he knew they both wanted.

“Mmm, yeah,” Ex opened and moaned into his mouth.

Meridian eased his tongue inside, languidly tasting and claiming what was now his. With his eyes on his partner, he sucked on Ex’s sweet bottom lip as if it was a piece of butterscotch. Ex began caressing his chest and next thing he knew, he’d reclined them back as if they were on a date at a drive-in movie and not on a stakeout.

Freight trains.

He couldn’t stop them.

“Did they say what the problem was?” God asked Day as they walked up to their porch.

“No. They just said the system went offline and it’s standard protocol to call us,” Day said from behind him. His husband yawned and leaned into his back. “I’m beat, let’s go to bed. It’s probably just a fuse.”

God frowned. They lived in a nice neighborhood and didn’t have any major crime issues, but something uneasy stirred inside of him. He surveyed the dark houses in his court, noting that nothing looked out of the ordinary before he turned his key and opened the door. Day moved from around him and walked farther inside, dropping his heavy coat onto the living room table on the way. God assumed he was going to the garage to check the circuit breaker.

God flicked the switch on to light up his entryway when nothing happened. He glanced back outside, wondering if there was an outage. He’d turned to go back in when his neighbor’s flood light activated as a cat darted across his lawn. The power was working just fine.

God’s eyes widened as he darted back in the house and yelled. “Leo!”

His husband didn’t answer, and he reached inside his coat for his gun but a chilling voice stopped him before his hand reached his chest.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, lieutenant.”

God stopped and slowly lowered his hand to his side. He wouldn’t do anything rash until he had eyes on his husband. God’s sight hadn’t adjusted to the pitch dark, but he knew his home and his intruder was sitting on his couch.

“Leo. Answer me,” God gritted.

“I’m right here,” Day said, coming around the corner. “There’s a man at my back.”

God balled his fists tightly. He wasn’t scared or worried. His husband had been a capable man long before he came around. God was more concerned about the man in front of him.

“I presume you’re the ones that had a run-in with my best friend tonight.” God said. “Now you were foolish enough to come here.”

The man’s silence was loud and clear.

“Are you here to kill me?” God asked, wanting to get one fucking thing clear.

“If I wanted to kill you, lieutenant... you’d be dead already,” he said, his tone low.

God believed him. He wasn’t a fool. He’d seen what these men had done to the Stewart brothers’ home, the firepower they had. He’d seen the video of what these men considered to be an interrogation. The detective in him wanted answers. But right then, all he wanted was these motherfuckers the hell out of his house and away from Day.

“That’s not usually the first question I’m asked. It’s always, ‘who are you?’”

God scoffed. “I already know who you are. And the Devil isn’t allowed in here.”