Nothing Special V (Nothing Special 5)

“Well, you’ve known me less than a week.” Green laughed. “But stick around, I have many talents.”

“Yeah, I heard, this morning,” Steele mumbled, too low for them to hear.

“What?” Green asked, placing a tall cup of milk next to Steele’s plate.

“Nothing.” Steele took the warm syrup and poured it over his entire plate. If the food tasted half as good as it smelled, he was in for a treat. Looking over at Ruxs’ empty plate, he didn’t doubt it. “How’d you know I don’t drink coffee?”

Green pffted a little. “Because if you did, I would’ve seen it by now. Two days with you, and you’ve never once fixed a cup of joe.”

Steele would have to remember he was around some competent detectives now. The kind that observed everything around them. “Do you cook too, Ruxsberg?”

“I can burn.” Ruxs smirked, still scrolling through his phone.

“You can burn, alright,” Green confirmed huskily, winking at his lover while refilling Ruxs’ coffee mug without being asked. Ruxs blushed, looking bashfully at his partner.

Steele groaned, taking a large gulp of cold milk. What had he gotten himself into? It sure was entertaining, if nothing else. He’d never seen a gay couple as macho as them behave like this. Green serving his guy. But after what Steele witnessed this morning? Shit, he’d probably get up and make his guy the best damn bagel and cream cheese he could if he was woken up like that. Good sex could make you do those things.

Steele walked behind Ruxs and Green to their truck, which sat under a wide carport on the side of the building. He was so full he almost wanted to get back in that cozy bed and go right back to sleep. They’d offered up their spare room again over breakfast and Steele accepted. It made no sense to waste so much money on a hotel that wouldn’t be near as nice as their place. The only thing he’d need was those headphones, and he’d have to start utilizing Green’s workout equipment because he saw him take out a decent sized pack of turkey legs, saying they were for dinner tonight. Eating like this would go straight to his gut at his age.

“God gave us the go-ahead to check out the dockworker at his job instead of trying to catch him at home. Maybe he’ll get nervous around his coworkers and want us away from there. Might make him talk if his job is threatened,” Ruxs informed him, backing out of the carport. “But we gotta stop by the office real quick. I need my new knife and God wants you to have your earpiece.”

Tech messing with his ear again. Steele hid his smile behind his fist. His morning was looking better and better.

Day

Day was already dressed in his usual blue jeans and t-shirt. He had his badge clipped to his studded belt and covered with the hem of his shirt. He’d slept in the den and his back was killing him, so he was already in a mood when God came downstairs looking fully rested. His long hair was still damp from his shower and tucked behind his ears. Day wanted to go up to him and smell that bold aftershave fragrance that always clung to the bottom of God’s jaw, but he held back. He looked so sexy in his black cargo pants and tight as sin black APD t-shirt. His gold and chrome weapons gleamed when the sunlight from the kitchen window hit ’em. Desert Eagles weren’t for just any man since most men couldn’t handle them, but God could. Could handle both at the same time, his forearms bulging and tensing with each fire. Day closed his eyes and blew a defeated breath. He wasn’t supposed to be getting hot and worked up over his partner right now, he was mad at him. And for God to come downstairs looking like he did made Day even more upset, because he couldn’t bend over the counter for him.

Day had come straight home from the DA’s office to make God’s favorite dinner of ribeye, asparagus, and twice-baked potato, even throwing in a few red velvet cupcakes he’d picked up from their favorite bakery. They talked about the usual: work and schedules of what was coming up. As soon as God mentioned it’d be quiet for a couple months, Day used the opportunity to segue into some extremely minor wedding details – not even a date – just the mention of tuxedos, and the man had scarfed down his dinner and left, using the excuse of having to check on his mom. Something about her toilet leaking. Mrs. Godfrey lived in a senior facility with maintenance men on site, so Day knew it was bullshit. God didn’t even bother to eat dessert with him.

Now, after a terrible night of hardly any rest, his eyes were gritty and his head had the start of what was sure to be a tension headache. But what was worse was how his heart ached when he saw the slender gold band he’d slid on God’s finger when he proposed, resting there, taunting him. When God said yes, Day thought he’d buy him one as well, but he’d been wrong. He didn’t think it a huge deal, knowing he’d have one when they said their I dos. That day didn’t appear to be in the near future, either. Day couldn’t help feeling like a sucker, and to a man like him, there was no worse feeling. Why was God even wearing it? He didn’t want to get married. If God finally manned up and told him the truth, Day wondered if he’d be able to handle it. Would he be able to still work beside the man, feeling he was only good enough to shack up with? If he was being completely true to himself, he didn’t think he could. Day felt his stomach drop, and an overwhelming feeling of grief hit him hard enough make him choke.