I’m sorry I didn’t get this posted up earlier. A little flash fiction short of Kabe quizzing Joe as part of the Kinky Ever After Character Interview series which I think you all will enjoy. Kinky Ever After: Kinky Kiss and Tell – Joe Peterson from The Deputy Joe Novels by James Buchana
Apr 262012
What pinche cabrone out there invented Valentines Day?
Not that I’ve ever cared before, because it’s all for las chicas The only reason I ever thought about it was when I’d drive down Figueroa and see those famlias out there hawking cheap teddy-bears, heart balloons and flowers they bought yesterday on cheap when the flower mart downtown is getting ready to close. Same shit they do on Easter, Christmas, Mother’s Day – colors just change. Sometimes, like if my sister’d just been dumped, I get her a little muñeca to make her smile.
Still, I like guys so this isn’t something I’m ever going to have to worry about.
But we’re getting out of a production meeting and everyone starts getting all loco about what they’re going to get in a week. Trying to one up each other on plans. Thing about TV is about half the guys have the West Hollywood accent…and they’re as bad as the chavas. All over my ass about what do I have planned for Nate or what I think he’s going to get me.
Planned? Shit.
Then the production assistant comes up and asks, like he’s doing me a favor, if I want him to order flowers for Nate and have them delivered where he works. Like that would be a good idea? Oh great, send the poor FTD guy into the police station over on San Fernando to deliver a dozen roses from Nate’s boyfriend. Cabrone, that’s like walking into Avenidas’ territory flashing Border Brothers’ signs. Great movie title: Death Wish XII: Valentines Day.
I don’t expect anything, but then I’m wondering if Nate’s going to expect something? Am I going to fuck this up? My big blonde gym-rat is not going to go for chocolates. Flowers seem so…girly. Not even going to go into stuffed animals. Since Valentines is, like, next week, there’s no way to get reservations anywhere decent. And shit, between both our jobs we’re both beat most of the time anyway.
Maybe, maybe, we’ll just do naked in bed all day?
Dec 132009
Someday I should learn to shut my fucking mouth. It’s almost Christmas and, dude, Joe’s place just seems so sad without a tree. So, I’d been bugging him about getting one.
With Joe sometimes you have to push him to get him moving. But I have to push without pushing too much. ‘Cause, like, if he digs his heels in, the subject is done. So the other day I was bugging him again without being too obvious.
We’re up early…since I’d spent the night and Joe hates it when I sleep in. So I was standing in front of the big window drinking my coffee and staring out at the snow that fell during the night. I kinda turned around, looked over my shoulder at him. “A tree would look great right here.”
That thick country drawl hit me. “What do I need a tree for, Kabe?” He mumbled over his oatmeal. Glared at me across the room. “I ain’t got nothing to put under it.”
Holy shit, no fucking presents? I didn’t say that out loud, ‘cause then he’d have gotten pissed. “Doesn’t your family exchange gifts?”
“Naw, most cain’t hardly afford to.” He shrugged like it didn’t mean anything. “They got kids, they rightly spend the money on them.”
“You don’t do anything with your family?”
“Cards.” Joe pushed back from the table and crossed his arms over that big chest of his. “If my folks were ‘round, if I weren’t working, I’d go over there on Christmas Day.”
“Go to church with them, huh?”
He looked at me weird, “Not unless’n Christmas fell on a Sunday.” After he scraped the last bit out of his bowl, Joe added. “My momma usually get’s me a shirt or something.”
I wandered back to the kitchen. “That’s depressing.” As I passed the table I got his dishes too. “Really, depressing.” I mumbled while I washed his bowl and my mug. I figured at that point I ought to just drop the subject.
“It ain’t but what it is.” He shrugged as he got ready to head out to the station.
And that’s how it got left. Until yesterday that is. I’m at the ranch, in bed with half a dozen blankets on ‘cause it’s fucking cold up here. Woke up to someone pounding on my bedroom door. When I checked the clock it said four in the morning. I was about ready to yell something about if the house wasn’t on fire when T called out. “Kabe,” T cracked the door open and leaned in as I sat up, “Joe’s here. Says you got somewhere to be today.”
“Better dress warm.” Joe added from somewhere down the hall.
Anybody else, I’d have told them to go fuck themselves. Not Joe. I bitched, but I got up and dressed. Came out carrying my boots and caught one of those sights. Joe has no clue how goddamn hot he is. Big country boy in tight blue jeans, thermal undershirt and plaid shirt tucked in and belted. His buzz cut just gives him a stern air. I liked it. Almost wished we were at his place so I could show him how much I liked it.
So he hauls me out and hauls me up the mountain. When I’d asked him where we were going, I got, “If’n you’re gonna make me do a tree then I might as well do it right.”
Now, it snows up here. Like three, four feet deep in some places. And we’re slogging through the snow, our breath freezing in mist clouds around us. Joe’s carrying this big old ax across his shoulders and I’m hauling rope. Looked like Paul Bunyan, or something, in his old style field coat and broken in cowboy hat.
I’ve never cut down a Christmas tree before. To me, getting a tree means drive over to the lot, pick out nice one, strap it to the top of your car and drive home. No. We cut the damn thing down. With a fucking ax. Do you know how hard it is without a chain saw? But you can’t carry a decent sized one on a five mile hike. I worked up a sweat like you wouldn’t believe. Then we tied ropes around the base and drug it all the way back to his truck. He didn’t even get on me for swearing on the way back.
“Well, it does look right fine there.” He’d admitted when we got it all set up. Not a big tree, but nice. There wasn’t much but some lights we picked up at the local hardware store and a few ornaments Nadia brought over. She was in the kitchen popping some corn so we could make a garland. As long as no one made me spray paint pinecones, I could deal with that bit of country.
“So.” He wrapped his big hand around the back of my neck. “There gonna be something under it, come Christmas?”
“Sure.” I leaned into him. God it’s like snuggling with a cuddly brick wall. “What do you want Santa to bring you?” I mean, I’d gotten him something already…naughty bought on-line. Big old leather paddle that I figured he’d enjoy. Well, I’d got it for myself too. That’s what Christmas was about: sharing 
the fun.
Joe snorted then moved close and rubbed his dick up against my ass as he whispered. “If I gotta tell you, you’re dumb as a stump.”
I am certainly not dumb.
Hi, I’m Chase, and I’m an alcoholic.
I guess I’m what you’d call a functioning alcoholic most times. I’d drag my sorry ass out of bed feeling like yesterdays cold, soggy pizza, but I always managed to get cleaned up and on into work. I don’t even really remember how I started drinking, you know, like more than socially. I don’t remember when it started to be all the time, but it was probably sometime after my friend and partner Jason was shot and killed. Before that, I’d come home and maybe have a drink or two.
After that day the drinking became a constant. And one or two flowed into forgetting just how much I’d actually polished off. I figured since I never drank on duty or before five and I managed to keep my job, get commendations and such, I was okay. That meant I wasn’t an alcoholic. Plus, alcoholics get hangovers, I never got hangovers…I just felt like shit all the time. That rocky, road-kill feeling, to me, was normal. I couldn’t remember a time when I didn’t feel like that.
Of course, there were moments when I was drunk off my ass, laying in some hotel room and thinking I want to just end it. This is nuts. I’m a drunk. A liar. I lie to everyone about me. I lie to myself and I know it. I’m a miserable human being, a fraud. I’d promise myself, if I just lived through the night, I’d stop.
The next day would come, I’d roll out of bed, hit the office and then I’d be home in my chair with a drink in my hand I didn’t even remember pouring. And I couldn’t remember if it was my first or second. Some nights I managed to sleep through, some I’d toss and turn in sweats until morning, but every night I went to bed drunk.
Then I met someone. I wish I could say in that moment I swore it all off and tossed the bottle in the trash. Nope. Yelled at him when he tried to get between my and addiction. I was lucky he came back. Even then my drinking didn’t stop. It wasn’t until I was diagnosed with Alcoholic Pancreatitis that I began to work towards recovery. And I went back and told Enrique he was right and I needed help.
And here I am. It isn’t easy. I’m still living on the one day at a time plan. But having someone so supportive standing next to me is helping. Ultimately, I have to do it on my own.
So, see, I got last Sunday off. Honestly, I still don’t quite know what to do with myself ’round hear on Sundays. I’m used to spending pretty much the whole day at Worship and Sunday school. My bellyaching about me feeling kinda put out and off-slant on those days gets tiresome for Kabe, I get that. I try and keep it down, but still.
When I got my schedule for this month, Kabe took one look at it, saw my Sunday free and cut me off short.
“You just don’t worry about it, Joe.” He tells me. “We’re going to honor that day. I’m going to make it real special.”
Now I should know better than to trust Kabe at anything. Not that the boy suffers stupid. Naw, he’s just wily as all get out. And he’s running around being sneakier than a fox scoping out a hen house. Saturday he’s got to run himself down to Cedar City. Struck me as odd, ‘cause we just done a supplies run not to far back. When he hauls his can home, the boy is loaded up with boxes that he don’t want me to see.
I humored him. He’s trying to give my a fun time and I sure don’t want to spoil it for him. Covered my eyes like he asked and everything. Tells me I can’t look in the big freezer. I was tempted to sneak a peak, but I restrained myself.
Sunday rolls around. I wake up ‘bout my normal half-past six and Kabe’s already out of bed. Now, I’m suspicious right there. It takes my boot in his butt usually to get him out of bed before eight most days. Stays up late nights surfing porn or watching movies. One thing gets him out early on his own and that’s climbing. But, he hadn’t said nothing and his gear and mine is still racked in the back of the closet.
Took my brain a moment to fire up. When it did, howdy, something smelled good. Kabe’s working on a right fine breakfast down in the kitchen. He got all put out ‘cause he was going to bring it to me in bed. Well, I ain’t lazy. He is. Told him, “You should have got yourself an earlier start, boy.”
His smile, the one I hanker for so, went all wicked on me. “Well,” he huffed, “I was busy with other things.”
Rainbow Flag
‘Course, then I had to ask, “Like what?”
He just shooed me outside. Flying from this new flagpole on my porch is this American Flag…’cept the stripes is all rainbow. Dear Lord, the boy was on for killing me. “What the heck is that for?” I gotta ask why he got that fly up his butt.
Looking at me like I done lost my mind, Kabe laughs, “Well, duh.” He drawled it out like I was plumb loco or something, “It’s national coming out day. October 11.”
“They got a day for that?” I didn’t know.
That got Kabe lost so much in laughter that he done burnt the toast for breakfast. Then he goes on about how I should just have a real day being Gay and out and proud about it. ‘Course, he wasn’t none to amused when I told him I live being gay every time he goes down on his knees for me…so maybe he should start there. Stalked on into the kitchen then and served me up my burnt toast.
Kabe kept the tube on the National Equity March – satellite news channel and all. When Scott McCoy came up to bat, well, yeah, I turned up the sound. I mean, here I am in Utah with a church that don’t love me much…but we got ourselves a gay man as a Senator. There are some things right in the world.
He won’t let me do nothing for the rest of the day ‘cept laze about. Well, Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest. Took a nap. Got a back rub and a little mutual blow-job action. Don’t think that last part was planned. Sometimes you just got to strike when the iron’s hot, though.
Then Kabe threw a DVD on, insisting on us watching something Gay…’cause it’s coming out day. He was a might disappointed that I’d seen Latter Days already as well as darn near all the old musicals. What the heck did he think they’d run on TV round here while I was growing up? And I got Netflix…so nobody but me knows what movies I got coming. So it ain’t like I’ve never seen none of them. Had to pop him one in the back of the head for that. But he’s on about how I have to see some classic gay movies. Took him five or six minutes of rummaging through his collection of DVDs his Grams had sent up to him.
Rock Horror Picture Show
So what we end up watching? The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
I ain’t never seen it before. Now, I ain’t none too sure about how ‘gay’ it was, but that had to be the strangest thing I’d ever watched. Never would have guessed that Tim Curry would go from being that to a darn good dramatic actor. All the while we’re chowing down on fresh crab and sour-dough bread his dad over-nighted him from San Francisco. Kabe, being Kabe, waits ’till I got my maw full of food and busts me with a question.
He’s pointing at the screen and Frankenfurter is sashaying down the stairs all got up, “You think I should parade around in a corset and heels for you like that?” Kabe snickers.
“Boy,” I growled after I got done choking, “you ever get up in a get-up like that and I’ll tar your butt with my belt.”
Then his tongue rolled out in front of his teeth. His grin got a mile wide. “Promise?” Oh, Lord what was I gonna do with that boy?
‘Round then it was time for bed. Y’all don’t need no more, ‘cept to know we got on a little more celebrating ’bout being out and being gay…at least being gay with him in my bed.
Hey, y’all wanted James? Too bad, you’re stuck with me, Brandon Carr. Taking over today and I had to come up with something to talk about. I guess there’s a lot of people out there who don’t understand my town…heck some of you think it’s in No.Cal instead of So.Cal. So, James figured it needed a bit of clearning up.
And who better to explain this issue about Riverside, California, than, you know, me Brandon. It’s my town. I’m a vice cop there. I know the good, the bad and the shit you never want to see about my town. It’s the hell of the 909 – yeah they changed the area code a couple years back. Lot of good that did, we’re still mullet ville and cars on blocks as lawn ornaments as far as most people in SoCal see it.
And it ain’t true.
First off…we all call it a town. It is 12th fucking largest city in CA, and 14th in the g
Yeah, there’s craptastic places, but there are in any city. And, we have space. Lots and lots and lots of space. A cop can still buy a house on his salary here – fuck half the cops in LaLa Land either end up buying here or Palmdale. Either way you got the same commute. And we got MetroRail the got the fucking commuter buses. We got three universities and two colleges…in the city. From 1970 to now…we’ve tripled in size.
To your left as you face the screen is the Mission Inn. Goddamn place is huge. Pretty close to the center of town, maybe a block or so up from the government office buildings — which I think are kinda sterile and wierd looking but they’re on the national register of historic places for ”modern” architecture — 50′s, 60′s retro buildings. UC Riverside has a whole site on them.
But, I need to take Nicky to the Mission Inn for a really speical night out. The rooms are tiny, but they were built wayyyyy back. Food is 5 star and you know, come on, you’re eating and hanging out in that building. What could be cooler?
Head along that narrow stretch you can see in the picture, cross the street and you’re at Legal Grounds…the best coffee in Riverside. Keep headding that way and soon you’ll be on Orange street. Hang left, pass the jail and you’re at the HQ for Riverside PD. Pretty, ain’t it? Come on, who wouldn’t want to be a cop knowing your brass lived in that “holy hill?” Got to hang out there for a bit while they renovated a couple of the outlying stations. Someday, when I make sergeant… I’d like to go back.
I did my undergrad at UC Riverside. Got my Bachelors of Science in Criminal Justice there. Have to go up the road 25 min to San Bernardino State for my masters, but I wish I could do it closer to home. SB just offerst the test program for working professonals that the UC system don’t.
So, yeah, we got a University of California outpost right in our backyard. Damn nice campus too. Sprawls all over the place…which, you know, is okay, ’cause we got space. At the right there is looking from the library towards the clock tower. You can’t see it great, but the clock tower design reminds me of stacked matchbooks. Only problem is kinda the area it’s in. The University and close to it is nice. G
They’ve done up downtown real nice. Jeff and I like to eat at some of the little storefont places along the pedestrian corridore the city’s created through downtown…could talk to them about the godawful Jazz they pipe in, but the fountains and trees are nice.
One of the biggest problems is smog…and that ain’t our fault. We’re inland an
You tell me if that’s worth it?
Yeah Okay, my department needs to move out of the 70s…’cause some of the Attorney General’s compliance order were under is complete bullshit, some aint’ bad (like Goddamn…of course we need roll call) and some is desperate: Why doesn’t the force mirror the population it monitors? Yeah, don’t like the Afirm Act response myself…but shit, dudes, 46% or our city speaks Spanish and wayyyy less of our officers do.
I’ll give you one last thing to chew on and then I’ll shut up…
Here’s your Google Map, play with it; scroll pics or whatever floats your boat, but most of all realize how FREAKING big my city is:
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=riverside+CA+map&sll=34.078256,-117.36557&sspn=0.280952,0.614548&gl=us&ie=UTF8&ll=33.947917,-117.366943&spn=0.070631,0.153637&t=h&z=13
