“Are you coming out tonight?”
John looked up from his struggle to remove his boots, yanking on his heel with all his might as he shook his head at his friend Mike and grinned.
“No, I’ve got plans tonight. Sorry.” The boot came off and John almost fell off the bench, but he righted himself with practiced ease.
“Plans, eh?” Mike sat down on the bench next to him, giving him a lecherous look that had John snorting a laugh. He started pulling off his remaining boot and shook his head at his fellow officer.
“Not like that. My friend is taking me out to a club. He’s been bugging me about it for weeks and I finally agreed to go with him.”
“What kind of club?” Mike asked. He wagged his eyebrows and started pulling off his own tall black boots. “Maybe I’ll tag along.”
John laughed, ignoring the heat of Mike’s body next to him. The other cop was hot like burning, his muscles straining the seams of his uniform, but completely straight and out of reach. It wasn’t too much of a loss. Mike was a great friend, but John had seen him date enough women to know that he made for a terrible boyfriend.
“It’s a gay club, but sure, if you want,” John said, enjoying the grimace that crossed Mike’s face. It wasn’t that Mike was a homophobe—he was one of the few guys that John was out to on the force—but he wasn’t one to go out on the town unless there was some chance of scoring with a girl.
“I think I’ll pass, but have fun,” Mike said. “You sure you don’t want to come out with us? You’ve never really struck me as someone who likes to go clubbing.”
“I promised my friend,” John said, shaking his head. “Sorry.”
“No, that’s cool. I hope you score a hot…” Mike cocked his head. “What’s your type, again?”
“Guy,” John said, deadpan. Mike shook his head with a laugh. They’d both managed to get their boots off and were now changing into their civilian clothes.
“No, you know what I mean. What’s yourtype? I know all about bears, and twinks and otters and all that.”
“Otters?” John scrunched up his nose. He had no idea what an otter was. He knew what bears and twinks were—though the stereotypical versions of those that popped into his mind didn’t really do it for him—but otter was a new one.
“You know, guys that are hairy but not as big as bears. Otters.”
“How do you know that and I don’t?” John asked. He was honestly a little disturbed. His straight friends should not know more gay slang than him—especiallynot Mike.
“I watch RuPaul’s Drag Race.”
John lifted his eyebrows. “You donotwatchRuPaul'sDrag Race.”
Mike grinned, flashing his pearly white teeth in the process. He had a beautiful smile and John quickly looked away.
“Sure do. I started watching it with my ex, and it’s hilarious. You should check it out.”
“I will,” John said, not willing to mention that he had checked it out and not really been a fan. He liked live drag shows, but seeing them on TV just wasn’t the same.
“So?” Mike asked, making John blink in confusion. They were done changing and currently on their way out into the parking lot.
“So, what?”
“What’s your type?” Mike asked, stopping next to John’s car and crossing his beefy arms over his chest.
“Why do you care?” John asked. He narrowed his eyes, hoping he wasn’t blushing. He tried to joke. “Is this the part where you come out of the closet and tell me that you’re in love with me?”
Mike rolled his eyes. “No. I just have a friend, and you’re exactly his type. I want to know what your type is before I start thinking about whether or not I want to set you up with him.”
“I don’t like blind dates,” John said, despite never actually having been on a blind date in his life.
“Just answer the question.”
The hint of authority in Mike’s voice had John’s cock twitching in surprised arousal. He shrugged, feeling what was definitively a blush creeping up his throat and taking over his face. He’d never been asked to articulate what he liked in a man before—at least not outside of a dating app—and it was making him squirm.
“I like, I don’t know. Just regular guys. You really don’t have to set me up with anyone.”
