It’s Time for A Change

Day was sitting at his desk, trying not to get angry at the fact that it was almost noon and God wasn't at work yet. Day had called him at least ten times and hadn’t gotten an answer.

“So where’s your bodyguard, Day?”

Day mentally rolled his eyes and swiveled his chair around to face his most incessant headache. “I don’t know, Ronowski, but I know where I am… I’m about ten seconds off your fucking ass. I’m warning you, now is not the time.” Day glared.

“I bet you’d love to get up in my ass. Tell me, Day. Do you scream like a girl when a man is shoving his hard cock in your ass?” Ronowski said just loud enough for him to hear. He had both hands on the surface of his desk, sneering down at him disgustedly.

Day narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “You made a special point to stop what you were doing and come all the way from the other side of the station just to ask what sounds I make when I get fucked. Jesus, Ronowski… get a life. Better yet, come out of the closet and then get a fucking life.”

Day saw Ronowski gearing up again but completely lost interest when he saw God stroll into the office in his typical tight black T-shirt and dark blue Levi’s. He had on his leather coat and black boots. His long waves were tamed by an elastic band and his two-day-old scruff looked delicious. Day thought about how the coarse beard had felt against his face just nine short hours ago. Day leaned back and blatantly tracked God as he moved through the maze of desks, stopping here and there to speak with other officers. God’s sexy green eyes were fixed on him as well as he sat in his chair across from him. After several seconds, God broke the contact and blinked quizzically in Ronowski’s direction. Day absently looked up at the wickedly handsome, homophobic officer and saw he was still standing there staring at him.

Day jumped up out of his chair. “Jesus, fuck, Ronowski! Why don’t you just take a goddamn picture of me so you can jerk off to it later?”

Ronowski gasped and his porn star lips twisted into an angry snarl. “Fuck no! I hate you.”

“Then get the fuck away from me! Why the hell are you standing over me?” Day fumed.

“No one gives a shit about you or where you put your dick,” Ronowski fired back.

Day threw his hands in the air and exaggeratedly flopped back down in his chair. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Ronowski, I swear, you are the fucking stupidest smart person I know. How the hell can you have a master’s degree in psychology and be so completely fucked-up in the head?”

Day looked over at God and saw him leaning back in his chair with his hands steepled together, smirking at him.

Vikki chose that moment to come over.

“Detective Seasel, can you call down to the records department, your partner needs to have a look at the de-nile file,” Day said turning his glare back to Ronowski.

“Fuck you, Day.”

“You wish, you closet case. But people in hell wish they had ice water… lesson here is you can’t always get what you want,” Day retorted.

“Come on, Ro, we have a call to follow up on,” Vikki said while tugging Ronowski’s arm off Day’s desk.

“Call me a fucking closet case when your bodyguard’s not around, ass-muncher,” Ronowski spat.

“To thine own self, Ronowski,” Day answered drily.

He watched the red-faced officer continue to shoot daggers at him. He rolled his eyes dramatically and turned his attention to Vikki, who was leaning on God’s desk, not paying attention to his and Ronowski’s feud. He watched her through squinted eyes.

“Good afternoon, Detective Godfrey. I like your hair when you pull it back like that… it looks sexy.” She smiled and ran her thin fingers through God’s chestnut waves.

Day didn’t give God a chance to respond. “Didn’t you say you had a follow-up to respond to, Vikki?” Day’s harsh tone startled her out of her lust.

She frowned at him in confusion before turning and walking off with Ronowski.

God looked back at him. “You want to come cock your leg up and piss around my fucking desk too, Leo?”

Day didn’t hesitate. “Maybe.”

God watched him for several moments, those intense green eyes leveled on him. It made him think about how he’d look on his knees in front of Day, staring up at him.

“Come on, we have work to do.” God unlocked his drawer and pulled out a few files.

“Of course… just like I said would happen. You stroll in here late as hell… we can’t talk… all we can do is work,” Day huffed.

“Stop whining, little girl. I’m gonna talk to you later.” God tossed the file at him and they got to work.

Four hours later they had all their files spread out in the conference room while the ADA and two profiling detectives gave them feedback on their new theory. Someone was bringing large shipments of marijuana and cocaine into the city, and they were most likely using the water and the unmonitored ports. They’d concluded that it had to be someone with power and connections; all they needed was a break to crack this one.

God was standing in front of the dry erase board with his legs apart and his muscled arms folded across his chest. His eyes were focused on the notes and diagrams they’d drawn over the last few hours. Day couldn’t put together any of the case’s connections today, because he was having the hardest time concentrating. He kept picturing the open, emotional man that had clung to him on his couch this morning. During those few hours, something had changed between them.

After God had sent him that text, saying no one wanted him, Day had realized that he wanted the man. The bad-ass, tough-as-nails, cocky sonofabitch that had stuck up for him four years ago for no reason, Day wanted that man… and he wanted him bad. What was fucking up Day’s head was the way God had held him and kissed him this morning. He knew God was straight—or so he assumed—although it appeared that he limited his conquests to one-night stands and quick hookups.

During the entire time that he’d known God, the man hadn't mentioned a love interest or brought anyone to meet Day. Day found himself wondering if God had ever taken anyone to meet the mother that he always jumped through hoops for.

Day’s thoughts were interrupted when Detective Johnson strolled into the conference room and announced proudly, “Detective Day, you are going to love me, handsome.”

“Oh yeah, you finally got me that date with Channing Tatum?” Day quipped.

Day heard God huff with annoyance, not bothering to turn around and face them.

“Whatever… even better,” Johnson replied. He slammed a clear evidence bag down on the table, the contents making a loud clank against the wood surface. Johnson pointed at it. “That right there my friend, is the weapon that killed fourteen-year-old, street level drug runner, Enrique Lopez. Ballistic reports are a sure match. The number of rounds found at the scene is even consistent with what's missing from the clip.”

Day waved his hand in a get-to-the-point gesture. “I’m not feeling the love yet, Johnson.”

Johnson strolled over to Day, in what he obviously thought was a sexy strut, looked down at him with those dark brown eyes, and Day had to stifle an urge to let his gaze travel lower.

“Damn, you smell good,” Johnson said out of the blue. His look full of lust, he completely forgot the evidence and everyone else in the room.

God spun around and barked, “Whose fucking gun is that, dipshit?”

Johnson jumped at God’s hard voice. “It’s Lamar Jenkins… the guy you busted last week, who’s still refusing to roll over on his kingpin. The search team found this gun under his bed, along with several others. I think a bargaining chip of twenty-five to life will have him reconsidering his vow of silence.”

Day looked at God with surprise and saw his devious smirk. They were talking again with their eyes, their look saying, “Finally, this is just the break we needed.” God nodded his head once and Day moved from his perch on the corner of the table and headed to the door, both knew exactly where they were going… over to lockup.

“Hey, hold on, Leo.” Johnson grabbed the evidence bag and jogged over to the door, pausing in front of Day. He leaned against the doorjamb and propped his arm up on the wall beside Day’s head. Day hated when men used their height to stand over him… it grated on his nerves… all men except for God. Day refused to look up at him.

“You busy this Friday? My dad got me box tickets to the Braves game,” Johnson boasted.

“Good for daddy, Johnson, but I’m not a baseball fan,” Day lied and sidestepped to head out the door, but was again blocked by the tall man.

Day heard God let out a small growl from behind him in the room but chose to ignore it.

“That’s cool, Leo.” Johnson was damn near standing on top of him as he spoke, but he’d be damned if he was going to back up.

“So just talking would be nice… would you like to come to my place tonight for a glass of wine?”

“Not even if Jesus was pouring it,” Day responded quickly. He heard God let out a loud laugh and the sound of it made the corner of his mouth turn up. God rarely laughed—hell, the man rarely smiled—but somehow, Day could make him do both.

“What the fuck are you laughing at, Godfrey?” Johnson moved away from Day.

“You, daddy’s boy.” God’s smile disappeared as fast as it came, and he was back to typical, intimidating God.

“Fuck you. I know Day is just showing off for you.” Johnson turned back to look at Day. “I’ll be sure to catch you when you’re alone.”

“I’ll be sure to have my rape whistle,” Day retorted.

Johnson turned a frustrated look at God. “I’m not finished with you yet, either.” With that hanging in the air, Johnson walked out the room.

“Duly noted,” God said with an uninterested shrug.

Day slammed the door behind Johnson, leaving just him and his partner in the room alone. Day killed the lights.

“Setting the mood, Leo?” God grinned at him.

“I want to talk to you now.”

“You can’t always get what you want, Leonidis,” God rebutted.

“I want you,” Day said, with no hesitation.

The room was deathly silent. After a few long seconds God responded simply, “No you don’t.”

“I do. Isn’t it obvious?” Day moved a little closer.

“You don’t know what the fuck you want. I’ve watched you for four years, jumping from bed to bed and fucking your way through half of Atlanta. I have one emotional night and all of a sudden you want me… fuck you,” God said gruffly.

Day’s body heated at the sound. He moved closer to where God was standing on the opposite side of the table.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was supposed to be saving myself for marriage, and even more, I didn’t realize you were a goddamn virgin. How many women have I seen you fuck in that pussy-magnet truck of yours, huh?” Day lowered his voice as he stood directly in front of God. “Just tell me you didn’t feel what I did last night.” He closed the small gap, not minding God’s height at all, and looked up into electric-green eyes. “Tell me you don’t want me too, and I’ll back the fuck off.”

God looked down at him and Day could see the uncertainty all over that ruggedly handsome face.

“Shit’s complicated, Leo.” God’s breath ghosted across his forehead.

“Make me understand, Cashel,” Day whispered, and slowly brought his hands up to rest on God’s waist.

“What makes you think I’m gay or bi?” God asked avoiding Day’s request.

“Really? Maybe it’s this that makes me think that.” Day boldly palmed and squeezed God’s rock-hard erection.

“Fuck,” he hissed.

God grabbed Day’s shoulders and quickly moved him until his back slammed hard into the wall.

“Fuck yeah. That’s it,” Day groaned. He held on tight while God hoisted him up against the wall and attacked his mouth. It wasn’t pretty or gentle. His partner kissed him with a fury that he hadn’t felt in years. It was erotic, carnal, wicked, and Day loved every second. His feet dangled as God’s bulk pushed hard against him, keeping him immobile and under his control.

“This what you want, you sexy fucker?” God snarled in his ear, then leaned in and bit the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

“Ugh, yes! I want you, goddammit,” Day hissed into the darkness.

“Prove it.” God released him and Day dropped back to the ground. He immediately felt the loss of God’s heat and had to resist the urge to claw at the man.

Day palmed his own hard erection.

“Seriously. This isn’t fucking proof enough?” he said while seductively squeezing his cock and licking his lips, now full and plump from their kiss.

“I don’t give a damn about your wood. You get a hard-on when you drink coffee, Leo.” God grabbed his coat and headed to the door. “If you want it, you’ll have to earn it.”

Day stalked over to him. “Did you make all those other bitches you fucked earn it?” Day fumed. Not liking that God was playing a come-and-get-it game with him.

God spun around fast and gripped Day around his throat, pulling him into his rock-hard chest. Day hit that solid wall of muscles with a thud and the air rushed out of his lungs. Day put both his hands on God’s huge forearms that flexed against his touch. God bent his head and a few strands of his hair came loose from the elastic band and brushed against the side of Day’s face.

God looked and smelled so fucking delicious, like masculinity and aftershave. Day knew the grip on his neck was not to hurt him, it was to show him who was in charge. God's sheer strength and power had Day feeling like he could come right there in the small conference room.

“Oh, so you want to be my bitch?” God’s mouth was at the base of his ear. He roughly ground his pelvis into Day’s stomach while the other hand got a firm grip in his hair at the back of his head. “Why didn’t you just say so? You want me to have you face down and ass up in my truck? Then we can go do that right fucking now.”

God loosened his grip on Day’s hair and let the large hand around his throat turn into a gentle caress. He smoothed down Day’s hair and leaned in and took a deep sniff before nuzzling the side of his face. Day couldn’t have stopped his whimper if he’d tried. God dragged two fingers down his throat and gently stroked his collarbone. His breathing was now even and calm, surprisingly relaxing Day as well.

God kissed Day’s temple before speaking in a seductive whisper against the side of his face. “Or do you want me to put on one of your jazz records, lay your sexy body down on your bed, and slowly lick you from head to toe?” God ran a thumb over Day’s parted lips. “I would kiss these soft lips for hours before I let you wrap them around my cock.”

God let loose the sexiest fucking growl he’d ever heard while he oh so slowly massaged Day’s leaking cock, trapped uncomfortably in his jeans.

“Then I’d lie on top of you and bury my dick so deep inside you that you’d feel me for days,” he taunted sexily.

Day felt God’s breath stutter and knew he was enjoying the visual just as much as Day was.

“I’d fuck you slow and deep, Leo, until you came screaming my name.” God released his dick. “So tell me… which do you want?”

Day had to figure out how to speak again before he was finally able to reply. “Yes, Cashel. I want you in my bed.”

“Then prove it.” God laid a lingering, gentle kiss on his forehead before stepping back from him and leaving the conference room.