Good Cop, Bad Cop Ch. 05

"I know," I interrupted. "No need to apologize. I'm just glad you're here now."

He sniffled again and gripped my hand tightly. "Have you had anything to eat?" I asked. He nodded at the bottle of Jack Daniels and I rolled my eyes.

"Okay," I laughed, reaching for the bottle of whiskey as I stood up. "I'll make you a sandwich and we can watch the game."

I made him a thick ham and swiss sandwich, just the way I knew he liked it, and brought it out to him along with salt and pepper kettle chips and a bottle of water. He was staring at his phone. He looked lost.

"What's that?" I asked, already knowing what it was: Jason. He didn't look at me. A muscle in his jaw flexed as he put the phone on 'do not disturb', and then picked up the sandwich.

While he ate I made up the guest room, hung up the suit he'd brought, and made sure there were toiletries and fresh towels in the guest bath.

We watched the rest of Sunday Night Football in a companionable silence. Jon had a few more drinks - he was going to be hungover tomorrow - and I ended up having two Jack and Gingers.

He inched closer to me throughout the game until he was pressed against me. I slung my arm around his shoulder and rested my head on his. "It's gonna be okay," I whispered. He shuddered and nodded.

He was asleep before the game ended, slumped against me and drooling on my shoulder. I smiled and softly ran my fingers through his hair.

He was still holding his phone but his grip had slackened and I eased it from his grasp. We knew each other's pass codes and I guiltily keyed his in. I read his text messages from Jason and cringed at the photos and video clips he'd been sent.

I screen capped the texts and then used AirDrop to send them, as well as all the pictures and videos, to my phone. Then I deleted the screen caps (from the deleted items folder as well) and put the phone down.

"Come on, buddy," I said quietly as I gently shook him awake. "Bed time."

"Hmmm," he murmured as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. I took his hand and pulled him to his feet and walked him to the guest room. His back was to me as he undressed and I couldn't help but stare at him. God, he was beautiful. His broad, powerful shoulders rippled as he pulled his t-shirt off and dropped it onto the floor. He balanced himself with one hand on the bed frame as he skimmed his jeans down and off. The white Calvin Klein briefs clung to his firm round ass and I caught my breath.

Was I gay? Bisexual? I loved Kristen, I truly did, but seeing Jon like this... Recalling the things Austin did to me... The feeling of his cock inside me as he fucked me... The way I felt when he dominated and manhandled me... I actually felt safe and taken care of, and how fucked up was that?

Jon tugging the sheets back and crawling into bed pulled me out of my reverie. I rushed over and pulled the blanket up over him. "Good night."

"G'night," he slurred. I flicked the light off and went to lock up for the night.

I plugged his phone in to charge and then picked up mine as I headed for my room. I knew I shouldn't, but I opened the photo album and swiped through the pictures of Jon, unable to stop myself. I went back into the kitchen and poured myself another Jack and Ginger and sat down at the bar.

I watched all the videos several times. The things they did to Jon and some of the things they made him do... It was obvious he was high because he looked like a total team player. I couldn't help but be turned on.

There was a video of him snorting the ketamine from Jason's dick. I stared unblinking as Jason laid the line out on his cock while Austin pushed Jon to his knees, grabbed him by the hair, and guided him to Jason's cock. When he finished snorting, Jason wiped his dick off with a washcloth and slid his cock into Jon's waiting mouth. He was a fucked-out mess and I couldn't tear my eyes away.

By the time I got to a close up video of Austin fucking Jon's mouth, his eyes glazed and half shut as Austin's thick shaft slid up and down his throat, I'd shot my load into my hand. I set my phone down, disgusted at my own thoughts and actions.

I was glad he'd been drugged and didn't have clear memories of most of what happened because the look on his face tonight when I answered the door... It was haunted, and it haunted me. Seeing what he'd been subjected to and the things he'd done had devastated him and me alike.

I finally made it to bed an hour later and fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. I woke suddenly, a few hours later, feeling as if I wasn't alone. I turned to see Jon next to me, curled in a ball with his back to mine. I rolled over and tucked in close, careful not to touch him, but close enough to let him know he was protected. He let out a long, shuddering sigh, as if he'd been holding his breath all night, leaned his weight back, and settled into me. I slung my arm over him and pulled him close, spooning him. I was surprised when he slid his hand into mine and squeezed.

*~*~*~*

Morning came too quickly.

My alarm jarred me from sleep and when I reached to turn it off I realized Jon was gone. His side of the bed was still warm though and then I heard the shower in the guest room running.

I pulled on flannel pants and a t-shirt and stumbled to the kitchen, head pounding, mentally kicking myself for having that last drink as I put on a pot of coffee.

I was sipping my first cup when Jon walked into the kitchen, wearing nothing but a towel slung low over his narrow hips. I couldn't help but notice the lack of pubic hair. "Do you have a t-shirt I can borrow?" he asked.

"Um, yeah," I said, pulling my gaze away from his shaved crotch as I handed him the cup of coffee I'd poured for him. I nodded toward the half-and-half and sugar on the counter. "Do you need briefs, too?"

"Not used ones, dude," he laughed as he sat down.

"Ass." I muttered as I walked to my room and came back with the open three-pack I'd picked up yesterday. I tossed it to him.

He caught them and grinned broadly as he held it up. "You just like how I look in tighty whities," he said with a wink. I rolled my eyes and knew right then and there that everything was going to be okay.

*~*~*~*

All hell broke loose moments before we walked into the station. I was getting out of the car, reaching for my Starbucks, when my phone rang. Moments later Jon's began to ring as well.

We exchanged curious but cautious glances as we pulled our phones from our pockets. I looked at the screen: it was the Captain. I swiped to accept.

"Good Morning, Captain," I greeted him. "We just got here... Yeah, he's with me... Okay, we'll be right in."

I pocketed my phone as Jon clicked his off. "Double homicide on Sunset near South Beverly Glen," he said as we walked into the station.

*~*~*~*

So yeah, we were kept hopping for most of the week, interviewing witnesses and suspects as we investigated the murders. I was glad for the distraction because I was always laser-focused when working a new case.

Jon was a different story, though. Normally the life of the party and always in a good mood, he was intermittently sullen and volatile throughout the week. And he was perpetually aroused. I could tell every time he received a text from Jason because his jaw clenched, his cheeks flushed, and the bulge in his trim cut suit pants - which had been prominent before - verged on the obscene.

*~*~*~*

Wednesday afternoon while Jon interviewed a witness on his own, I tracked down some leads online. His phone was on his desk, which was only a couple feet away from mine, and buzzed a couple of times. I knew it was most likely Jason, but this wasn't a good time. Our murder investigation was heating up and Jon was already frazzled and on edge. I grabbed his phone and entered his passcode.

There were several more pictures and video clips and even a couple of gifs. I sent them to my phone again and then deleted everything before returning his phone to his desk. If he found out and got pissed, I'd take the heat.

*~*~*~*

An anonymous tip Thursday morning broke the case and by the end of the day we had an arrest. We celebrated at Jon's place where he overdid it.

*~*~*~*

On Friday my phone buzzed with a text at the same time Jon's did. I looked at him. He read the text. His head snapped up. We exchanged phones and saw we'd received the identical text from Jason: 'Party tomorrow at noon. Will text you the address in the a.m. Don't be late.'

*~*~*~*

The address was in Palos Verdes which, in Saturday traffic, took nearly an hour to reach. Neither of us were sure what to expect, what with that single cryptic text message we'd received. We we were both more than a little relieved that Kristen and Liz, along with my brother and a couple of the other librarians, were at a conference in Seattle until Sunday afternoon.

Jon pulled into the Golden Cove Center on Hawthorne Boulevard and parked near the Trader Joe's. "What're you doing?" I asked.

He grabbed his phone from the center console. "I think I'd be more comfortable if we left the car here and took a Lyft."

"Ah, good idea," I agreed.

Twenty minutes later our rideshare dropped us off at the address on Paseo Del Mar. Jon let out a soft whistle as we got out of the car and looked around us. "Nice neighborhood."

We were halfway up the front walk of the sprawling Spanish hacienda estate when the door opened. I recognized Nic and Charlie. They smiled and waved enthusiastically. I put on my best smile and nodded in return.

"Friends of yours?" Jon asked under his breath.

"That dream I had," I replied with a mutter.

Jon's brows shot up but he didn't say anything as we reached the smiling young men.

"It's so nice to see you again," Nic gushed as he put a hand on my upper arm and then, as if he'd heard our conversation, said, "I heard about your dream the other night."

"Yeah," Charlie said, taking my other arm, "Jason told us all about it. Maybe we can do something about it later." I felt my face go red.

"And you must be Jon," Nic said, turning to Jon and taking his hand. He gave him a long appraising look. "It's very nice to meet you, Cumdumpster." I could hear Jon gulp.

We stepped inside a large foyer that opened onto a room overlooking the ocean. But before I could even take in the gorgeous view of the Pacific, we were ushered down a hallway and into a room where Jason waited. Austin wasn't with him and I felt a small pang of- what, disappointment?

Jason was on his laptop when we entered and he quickly stood up. "I'm having a small get together this afternoon. A couple dozen friends. You're here to serve my guests."

"The fuck?" Jon said. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Jason ignored him. "But first you need the proper uniform." He walked around us slowly, looking us up and down.

"What? Uniform?"

"Shirts off," Jason said.

Neither of us moved.

"That was an order," he said firmly.

We stripped our shirts off. I folded mine while Jon dropped his on the floor.

"Pants too."

The hell?

I slipped my shoes off and had my jeans halfway down when I realized Jon hadn't moved. He was glaring at Jason and if looks could kill...

"Don't test me, Johnny Boy," Jason warned, his tone icy.

Slowly, deliberately - every move emphasized and exaggerated - Jon undid his jeans and pushed them down past his thighs.

"I see you two faggots coordinated," Jason remarked with sneering contempt. I looked over at Jon as he stepped out of his jeans and saw he was wearing white Calvin Klein briefs - same as me. Except he was half hard!

Jason tossed a black t-shirt to each of us. "The rest of your uniform."

I held up my shirt. The word 'PUSSY' was emblazoned across the front in white block letters. Shit! I looked at Jon. He was staring at his shirt, mouth slack and breathing heavy. It read 'CUMDUMPSTER.'

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he said, even as his dick chubbed up and tented his already bulging briefs.

Oh fuck!

*~*~*~*

We walked out of the room, orders confirmed, wearing just white briefs, black t-shirts, and flip-flops. Our detective badges and IDs hung from chains around our necks. We followed Jason, Nic and Charlie into the large front room where the 'guests' were gathered. Per Jason's instructions, we were to act as waiters and servers while the guests did whatever the fuck you did at a party like this. We were to serve drinks and hors d'oeuvres and whatever else the men wanted. I didn't have a good feeling about the 'whatever else.'

The room was large, easily 35 feet long by 20 feet wide, and the ceilings had to be at least 12 feet high. Floor-to-ceiling windows spanned the entire length of the room, showcasing a stunning panoramic view of the ocean. Large glass doors opened onto a yard as flat and pristine as a golf green and immaculately landscaped. There was a pergola, a large rectangular pool, and a hot tub. The yard was surrounded by a privacy fence high enough to keep out the most prying of eyes.

The room and patio were teeming with men of all sorts, shapes, and sizes; and that's when I noticed him.

He was leaning against an ornately carved pillar talking to Austin. He looked to be in his mid to late 20s but could easily blend into a frat-boy lineup. He was about 6'1 with dark, artfully tousled hair, darker eyebrows, and even darker eyes. I wouldn't necessarily call him a pretty boy (okay, yeah, I would) - he was more brutally handsome - and, yeah, he definitely knew he was hot. He had sculpted muscles, a perfect tan, and a smile that could light up the darkest corner of Carlsbad Caverns.

And the way he leaned as he chatted up Austin - one arm up over his head, curled to show off his bicep as he ran his fingers through his thick, wavy hair - was a total fuck-me pose.

I got the feeling he knew exactly what he was doing and what effect he was having on me. I also got the sense he knew I was staring and he deliberately didn't meet my eyes. The way the corners of his mouth tugged up into a smirk gave him away.

He was in total control and knew it. He probably even knew I'd do whatever he wanted with no questions asked. I wondered if he knew how drawn I was to the matted hair in his armpit, and I wondered what he'd do if I walked up to him and burrowed my face in that cave. I felt my dick twitch as it rose to half-mast.

Fuck! Who was he and what was happening to me?

*~*~*~*

The party was actually more tame than I expected. Sure, there were whistles and catcalls and our asses would be bruised with pinch marks come morning, but it seemed as if we were there only to further humiliate ourselves, considering the scanty outfits we were wearing.

Neither Jon nor I ate anything and I only drank bottled water while Jon had an occasional beer. But we made sure that we were the only ones who opened or who handled our beverages, both of us all too aware of the consequences. And we made it a point, as best we could, to stay in one another's line of sight.

Meanwhile, Pretty Boy (I found out his name was Tyler) continued to ignore me, but let me know, in a roundabout way, that he knew that I knew.

As the afternoon went on and the party attendees had more to drink, we endured an increased level of heckling, innuendo, flirting, and groping. It was juvenile and sophomoric, along the lines of a fraternity hazing prank, but pretty uneventful.

Jon received most of the attention because it seemed the more embarrassed he was, the harder his dick got, and the harder his dick got, the more embarrassed he became. I even had to stop myself from smiling a couple of times.

I was brushing off yet another hand on my ass when I heard a sharp squeal followed by a clatter of empty beer cans hitting the floor. I spun around to see Jon being tickled by Nic and Charlie. He was trying to fend them off, but they clearly had the upper hand and were keeping him off balance by alternatingly jabbing at his ribs and poking his navel while squeezing his inner thighs and the backs of his knees.

He howled as their fingers roamed, exposing his weaknesses as they explored his hot body. He was practically screaming bloody murder as he hunched in on himself, dissolving into a high pitched laughter I'd never heard from him in all the years I've known him.

"Stop," he pleaded with a gasp, doubled over and slapping at the hands pawing at his body. But that only drew more attention and soon a sea of guys drifted over as they sensed a weak member in the midst. New prey. Fresh meat.

I knew I should help him, but I was frozen in place, inexplicably turned on by what I was witnessing.

He continued to struggle but it was a losing battle. He was completely at their mercy and I was shocked at how helpless he was and how easily they took him down. He was a strong man, easily two to three inches taller and twenty pounds heavier than either of them, broken down to a limp noodle with mere tickling. I had no idea he was so ticklish, and judging from his reactions, neither did he.

His body bucked as Charlie held his hands behind his back and Nic put a bottle of poppers to his nose. "Oh fuck..." he moaned as the fumes hit him and his body slumped back into Charlie's strong arms.

They half-dragged/half-carried him to the sofa and sprawled him out on his back. They rucked his t-shirt up under his armpits and he was immediately swarmed by curious, horny onlookers. Mouths latched onto his exposed nipples, slurping and nibbling away at those two carnal command centers while more fingers dug into his ribs and belly button.

He shrieked with laughter and he fought to catch his breath, but every time he got any air, those fucking poppers would appear.

Hands scrabbled over his torso from his lower rib cage up into his sweaty, greasy armpits and back down. He twisted and turned in a vain attempt to avoid the tickling fingers as they skated across the broad plains of his chest and down along his sides, but the hands holding him down were strong and secure and his efforts to avoid the tickle torture were futile.

"EEEEEEEEheeheeheeheehahahahahahahahahaha dooooon't hoooooohooodoooo thheeesss tooooo me, heeheeheeheeheeheeheee!" Jon laughed as he pleaded and begged for Nic and Charlie to stop.

I continued to watch in fascination as Jon was reduced to an almost blithering idiot. One moment he was hunched over, chortling loud belly laughs, and the next he was squealing in peels of high-pitched laughter. His fit, taut body arched and jerked up, and his brief-covered erection thrust into the air in obscene gyrations. It would've been funny except for the leering horde of men gathered around him, grabbing at him, pawing at his dick and ass like he was nothing more than a piece of meat. He was so hard it was a wonder his dick hadn't ripped right through his thin cotton underwear. And he was oblivious. No clue at all.

He sputtered and began to cough as he tried to catch his breath. The guys eased up for a few moments and Nic held a red Solo cup to his mouth and urged him to drink. After a few swallows, though, Jon twisted his head and spit and refused to drink anymore.

What was that?

"Just a little something to put him in the mood," a voice husked in my ear and I jumped as Austin slid next to me. I hadn't realized I'd spoken aloud. "Nothing too strong," he continued as his big calloused paw ran down the small of my back and over the curve of my ass. "Not that he needs anything. Johnny Boy's a total cockslut. Get him aroused, feel him up a bit, and - bam! - a real cumdumpster."

I turned and shot him an affronted look. That was such bullshit, I wanted to say, but he was waggling his eyebrows and grinning wolfishly, and before I could say anything, he gave my ass a hard slap and went to join Nic and Charlie.

Meanwhile, somebody grabbed the waistband of Jon's briefs, apparently intent on stripping him of his final dignity, but Jon was putting up a valiant struggle. Thankfully Austin intervened just as the tide seemed to be turning, stopping the man with a firm hand on his shoulder and a nod of his head. The man stepped back respectfully and Jon breathed a sigh of relief.