Young Writers Society

They continued their gentle acts under the flow from the shower head, grabbing at each other until the water ran bone chilling cold. It took so much for Winslow to pull himself away from the sailor long enough to wrap towels around their waists and robes around their shoulders. As soon as they started dripping onto the bath mat, he grabbed his sailor back again and left more marks on his neck. He leaned back on the edge of the tub and James leaned into him while asking, “Where has all of this newfound strength come from, Sir?” With another kiss he added, “I thought you were all tuckered out and ready to go to bed.”

Winslow ran his hand down James’ back and then struck his ass sharply. With a smirk he answered, “Some naughty boy made a mess all over my sheets so we either have to sleep on the couch or change the bedding.”

“Are you expecting me to be a housewife already?” James asked as he kissed the detective on the nose.

They made their way through the living room until they managed to get into the bedroom. Winslow pulled himself away from his sailor to dig out some clothes for the both of them with James clinging around his waist the entire time. It was hard to rifle through his own drawers for a couple of pairs of drawers when he was distracted by the fact those same pairs would probably be on the floor again soon. His sailor seemed to be on a similar track when he asked, “Winslow, wouldn’t it just be easier for us to stay in the nude? Or have you suddenly grown an aversion to looking at my body?”

“I love your body, baby. That’s why we have to get some clothes on you, mister.”

The detective laid out a set of clothes for James on the dresser, putting on his own boxers and wrapping the house coat back around his waist. He left the other man to lean against the furniture while he went in search of a spare set of linens for their bed. Winslow searched through several logical places before remembering the trunk in the bottom of his closet where all of the mismatched items went. It had never occurred to him that he only had one full set of sheets for his bed until he was on the hunt for clean ones.

“Hey James!”

“Yeah?” came a muffled shot from the other room.

“Get the sheets out of the trunk in the bottom of my closet and I’ll fix us those drinks you wanted earlier.”

The only reply that Winslow could make out was a roaring laugh. Winslow was using the drink making task at hand to distract from everything else. From all of the bad memories that were constantly flooding his mind, ranging from bad sexual encounters to horrifying battlefield scenes. Being with someone like this made him more and more aware of how rough he was when he wanted to be soft and how insensitive he had been to people lately.

It hadn’t been right to be so confrontational with the dykes in the bar - especially when they were right about the nature of the relationship between cops and queers. He was most definitely a traitor by his profession but he was still allowed to love who he wanted to love. The detective had made a lot of mistakes in his life. Hurting a lot of people and fucking up in ways that he would never be able to repair.

Too many ruined lives. And those thoughts were leading him to question just how sharp the knives next to him were.

“Winslow? Are you coming? I’ve already made the bed and I’m just waiting for you to climb into it with me.”

The knife dropped out of his hand, clinking against the kitchen counter, and he quickly gathered the two glasses of vaguely Blood Marys. It was a careful walk to the bedroom with the lack of a serving tray, but he didn’t want to appear to be too much a waiter. Especially since James was going to be the one who ended up serving him.

Well theoretically.

He might manage to fuck up this newly blooming relationship as well.

“Well there you are, Sir. It took you long enough to mix the liquor with the tomato juice or did you happen to get distracted by something else?”

Distraction was certainly the word to describe the scene that Winslow was facing now. James had managed to keep his robe and underwear on, but was splayed out across the bed. It was one of the most alluring scenes that Winslow had ever seen in his life - if not the most alluring thing he had seen in his life. But he was now realizing as he walked towards the bed that he needed to be more careful with someone that he found himself quickly caring about. He hadn’t been careful enough with Morgan by not making it clear there was no scenario where he would be interested in the young man. That had spiraled far enough out of control to leave both parties in immense pain at that very second.

He regained his snark as he set the glasses down on the bed side table and replied, “Well I’m finding myself even more distracted now but I just I can’t go further than holding you close to my chest right now. I need to make sure that you’re really here with me.”

“I’m here. You have me. What else is worrying you, Winslow?”

Concerns flooded his head as he tried to make sense of all of the thoughts. How would he breach the topic of “I hope that I didn’t rape you in the bar or just now.” How would he explain his fears about ruining someone’s life and leading himself down another pathway of pain. All of those thoughts were clouding his mind once again as Winslow kissed his sailor and asked, “Do you love me because I love you.”

“I do love you, Winslow.”

“I never want to hurt you.”

“I know you don’t and I’ll make sure that you don’t hurt me.”

That statement worried him too but Winslow let the worry slip away as they held each other. He knew James must have worries too.