Young Writers Society

Morton leaned in as he said, “So you think I’m some sort of a darling?”

They had magically moved across the room as they were talking and Winslow found himself pushed back against the desk. As Lieutenant Morton pressed his body into the detective’s, Winslow ran his fingers up the man’s chin. He grabbed onto Morton’s jaw as he said, “Yes, you are some sort of a darling. The sort of darling I came here to ask about a murder that he witnessed.”

The lieutenant moved away from Winslow, but he still kept their fingers intertwined. Winslow could feel his heartstrings tugging in multiple directions when looking at the precious baby blue eyes before him. His witness was swaying back and forth to the music that they could hear playing through the air vents, and he wished he could join Morton for the dance.

The entire scene was far too bittersweet for Winslow’s taste.

“You’re very pretty as a dancer, James, but I really do need to ask you about what you saw.”

He managed to pull his one hand away from the lieutenant’s grasp and took the notebook out of his breast pocket. It flipped open with a gentle clack, a barely noticeable sound that made Morton visibly shiver. Winslow watched the man’s eyes carefully as he sat his notebook down and rubbed his free thumb over Morton’s shaking hand.

“I…I didn’t really see much of anything but I saw enough to remind me of what I had seen before,” the lieutenant slowly whispered. “And I don’t mean to sound like I’m avoiding the question - I’ve just seen a lot of things.”

Winslow moved his fingers up to the sailor’s jaw once more, this time brushing his thumb at the man’s sideburns and then pushing back the golden locks. He could see the tell tale signs where Morton was attempting to grow out a buzz cut. And then he found himself tempted to kiss the forehead before him. Just the thought of the possibility of having red tinted lips to press against the lieutenant’s body made a certain excitement spread throughout Winslow.

He lifted Morton’s hand, gently kissing it as he said, “James, I’ve seen a lot of things myself but I need to hear about what you saw on New Year’s Eve.”

“Why would you want to hear about such a terrible thing, sir?”

Morton emphasized the word “sir” as he pressed harder against Winslow. There was a certain pressure that found itself against the erection that the detective was desperately trying to will away. If he only had some crime scene photos in his possession, then maybe he could get the boy to focus on something more than carnal desires.

“James, I think you need to take a cold shower if I have any chances of continuing this interview.” He paused his speech while he resumed running his fingers through Morton’s hair. A few fair strands came off in his hand and he let them fall to the floor. The temptation to kiss the forehead before him rose again while Winslow calmly stated, “I know that your mother saw the body and I’m guessing your mother has the tendency to faint.”

Winslow watched the blue eyes drop and the color drained away from the sailor’s face to a dress white shade. This was the first time that Morton didn’t seem too excited for his presence. He managed to hold onto the lieutenant’s hand as he pulled away and started to move across the room. The detective stood with him, following Morton’s ever graceful movements. A bit of admiration rose in Winslow’s heart for the dancer that was slowly moving with him. Winslow had never been a very good dancer - even with as much time he had spent in entertainment centric cities. Even with all of the dancers who had spent time in his bed. And that included the ones who had danced primarily in his lap.

“So I’m guessing from your mother’s tendency to faint, a loyal son like you would be there to catch her. Unless you’re the kind of man who would let a lady fall to the floor?” Winslow asked as he ran his fingers along Morton’s jawline once more. He questioned further by prodding at Mor-James. “Are you the kind of man to let a lady fall to the floor in a time of need?”

Winslow pulled the two of them back together. They were pressed together tight enough for Winslow to feel the excitement that had evidently come back to James. The sailor shifted against him, leaning the fair haired head against Winslow’s shoulder. The faint music still came down from the air vents as they swayed back and forth.

James gently kissed his neck before he commented, “Are you the kind of man who would let a lady like me fall to the floor, Winslow?”

The detective responded to his play by taking the sailor into his arms and slowly dropping him to the floor. He let go of his strong grip on the man’s shoulders, still swaying to the bat of the music that surrounded them. A look of alarm rose in James’ eyes in the few moments before Winslow grabbed him back up.

“I might let you fall sometimes, darling, but I’ll always make sure to catch you before you hurt yourself.”

When Winslow pulled him back up from the floor, James pushed their lips together. He took the kiss further than they had before. Much further than the gentle smooches they had been laying on each other’s skin just moments before.

Winslow pulled away a little bit as he questioned, “I’m not going to get any answers to any of my questions any time soon am I?”

The sailor only smirked while first unbuttoning and then unzipping the detective’s pants. And as much as Winslow was surprised by the further touch of intimacy, he wasn’t surprised when his brain went into autopilot. James was soon lying against the desk with his hand still partially down the detective’s trousers. He could feel the excitement that was coursing through his veins and judging by the growing pressure against his groin, James was enjoying himself too.

His sailor finally answered the question in between frustrated kisses as he said, “You can have some answers as I start to have some fun.”