Lastonbell wasn't a bad assignment.
A major metro center, it was a city known for the arts, theater, and music – and all the accompanying drama that came with it. A writer, wretched with rejection letters, going hellion in the streets; a seraph, strung out on the torrid emotions of starving artists, going missing and turning up a week later rampaging through the commercial district wearing scales. Organized crime rings, trafficking drugs and bodies both, occasionally facing off against each other in the streets.
Sure, it didn't have the glitz and glamor of Pendrago. But Sorey had gotten too comfortable with the detective beat in Ladylake, and welcomed the change of scenery – but mostly he welcomed the change in local attractions and historical points of interest. When he wasn't being wined and dined (more like boozed and burgered) by his local friends as part of his farewell festivities, he was scrolling through Lastonbell food and travel blogs and devouring every book about the city's lengthy history he could get his hands on. These research efforts had a predictable effect on Sorey's packing efforts, and on the eve of his big move, he had to sheepishly call in a favor to Rose to enlist her help in getting the remainder of his apartment into boxes.
("I helped you and Alisha move into your place," Sorey pointed out in response to Rose's endless griping, over the sounds of packing tape and clattering plates.
"I bought you pizza and beer!" Rose countered. "That debt was paid in full! Man, how many books do you have!? You owe me a night bar-crawling in Lastonbell for this. While I wear a crown. And you're carrying me on one of those fancy back carriage thingies."
"Palanquin," Sorey informed her.
"Gesundheit," Rose blessed him.)
Now that he was in Lastonbell, there was the matter of getting his apartment out of the boxes. Sorey flopped down heavily on one of the few open spots on his couch, and brought out his phone. He'd had a long day, and maybe it was time for him to make use of his extensive city research to check out some of the local bars.
He scrolled through some of the blog posts he had bookmarked, and landed on a name – The Katz Pajamas. It looked way…louder than the bars he tended to frequent. And definitely had a certain vibe to it. A certain vibe that Sorey, stressed and lonely in this big new city, could maybe appreciate tonight.
Sorey didn't usually go for casual encounters, much less one-night stands. Even if someone checked all his boxes for physical attraction, he just generally wasn't interested in anonymous sex with someone he barely knew. There was also the matter of common ground – normal "pickup talk" conversation bored Sorey to tears, and he wasn't naïve enough to think that most people (or even some people, or a few people) would be interested in what archaeology journals he was reading, or wanted to rant with him about that badly-researched documentary he caught on Netflix the night before.
But there was always an exception to be had, wasn't there? Especially as a stranger in a strange land.
Which sums up how Sorey wound up with his cock buried hilt-deep inside a guy he picked up at the bar.
His name was Mikleo, and he was a regular at the club, had great taste in books, and was absolutely stunning. He was tall; almost a head taller than Sorey, who was no slouch himself. He had a slim build; light enough for Sorey to pick up and throw onto his bed with ease, with slender wrists just the right size for Sorey's hands to wrap around. He had legs for days; they were previously showcased in a pair of tight jeans, and were currently wrapped around Sorey's waist. His eyes were a deep and fascinating violet, his hair was long and wavy white, frosted with pale aquamarine streaks, and – Sorey noted, as he slid a hand through it, prompting Mikleo to damn near purr at the feeling – was just about the softest thing he'd ever felt. Sorey had never gotten with a seraph before, and with how this encounter was going, he wondered why the hell that was.
The second he stepped into the club and had his eyes adjust to the low light, he'd spotted Mikleo at the bar, chatting with the bartender like an old friend. Dumbstruck with how gorgeous he looked in the colored lights and running on fumes and exhausted idiot courage after his long day of moving, Sorey slid up to him in a neighboring seat, and struck up a conversation. About five minutes in, Mikleo was laughing at Sorey's dumb pickup lines in Ancient Avarost and buying him a drink to welcome him to the city, and Sorey realized that this was the best decision he'd made all day. About ten minutes in, as they crowed together about shitty movie adaptations of the restoration period, Sorey realized this was the best decision he'd made all week. About an hour in, as they ground on each other in the back of a taxi making its way back to Sorey's place, Sorey realized that he really should have tried harder to unpack, and was about to hook up with a beautiful stranger amidst a maze of cardboard boxes. For his part, Mikleo almost seemed charmed by it all – or at least was too polite to do more than laugh as Sorey scooped him up and carried him bravely through the debris and into his bedroom to ravish him.
Sorey hadn't really gotten much action since his last relationship about six months back, but managed to last longer than he thought he would with such a mind-blowingly sexy partner. From the look on Mikleo's face as Sorey carefully pulled out of him, he'd given Mikleo a great ride as well – which was good, as Sorey wanted to at least make Mikleo's efforts in putting up with his cardboard kingdom worthwhile. Sorey removed his condom and wrapped it in a tissue, and leaned in to kiss Mikleo deeply before he got up to clean up in the bathroom. The smile Mikleo gave to him in return just about killed his desire to leave the bed. Sorey leaned back in for another kiss.
Then another.
Then another.
In the end, Sorey wound up climbing Mikleo like a tree one more time before they collapsed into unconsciousness. The next morning, he wished he had more to offer his houseguest hottie than coffee and a muffin from the chain across the street, but Mikleo took the gift with the same good grace that he put up with Sorey's bad jokes last night. Sorey really, really wanted to ask him to hang around while he went off to check in at his new station, but couldn't justify asking him to; not with his apartment…the way it was. Mikleo bid him good luck and farewell, sweeping that silky hair of his over one shoulder as he bent down for a last, long kiss. Belatedly, as he creaked his way out of the taxi and into the station, his whole body aching from moving strain and from screwing Mikleo like his life depended on it, he realized that he hadn't asked for Mikleo's number. Sorey's heart twisted a bit with disappointment.
It was the appeal of one-night stands, he supposed. You meet a gorgeous, brilliant guy, hump his brains out, and then never see him again. No strings. No expectations. Nothing but fun, pleasure, and the lingering memory of Mikleo's smile burning in his brain like embers.
Sorey hung around the station for a little while, getting his new hire paperwork and greetings out of the way – he had been hoping to meet his new partner, but had been told he was taking a long weekend and would probably be next in the coming week. Sorey supposed it was a blessing in disguise. He was still more than a little cranky from exhaustion, more than a little homesick for Ladylake, and more than a little hung up on a hookup that he had no right to be hung up on. He probably wasn't in much of a state to be making good impressions on coworkers.
As he headed out for the day, his shoulder devil whispered to him to go back to The Katz Pajamas. Great plan, that – nurse drinks for a few hours, lurk like a creep, and skulk off into the night when Mikleo inevitably didn't show. His shoulder angel told him to go to the grocery store, pick up some real food, and spend the night and the rest of the weekend unpacking. Sorey hung his head, listened to his shoulder angel's admonitions, and went to pick up some kitchen supplies.
Well, the joke was on his shoulder angel, because he ran into Mikleo again at the store.
Sorey fell too hard, too fast in his relationships. Thus, he was so bad at one-night stands. So horribly bad. He saw this character flaw of his and tried to keep himself under control, but oh, his heart was singing as he saw Mikleo blinking at him across the freezer section. He looked just as beautiful under the florescent grocery store lights, dressed in a comfy oversized sweater over a button-up, as he did in the neon club dressed in skintight pants and a black choker.
What, exactly, was hookup etiquette in a situation such as this? Was it jogging over to where Mikleo was looking at ice cream bars, striking up a conversation with him, and after another half-hour of wonderful conversation, inviting him back to his cardboard kingdom? Was it popping a boner in the middle of the store like a teenager when Mikleo smirked at him and picked up a 24-pack of condoms from the shelf, and tossed it into his basket next to the ice cream?
This, in fact, was probably not hookup etiquette in any sense of the word. But it netted Sorey another night with Mikleo.
And then a whole day with him, lounging in bed, eating Mikleo's ice cream bars as they watched documentaries together, idly discussing and debating, Sorey's head in Mikleo's lap, trying not to purr as Mikleo pet his hair.
They didn't leave bed that whole weekend, and Sorey got zero unpacking done, and kind of felt like his dick was going to fall off from using it to nail Mikleo in every position he could. But by god, Sorey didn't regret a single moment of any of it. As he and Mikleo finally said their farewells to each other early Monday morning, Sorey felt like he was walking on air. Mikleo still had to get back to his place, change, and head off to work, all with Sorey's hickies marking up his neck, but Sorey now had his number tucked safely into his phone, and a sly little suggestion from Mikleo that they could meet up again sometime if Sorey ever got bored. Sorey dreamily stared at his contact in his phone as the subway rumbled toward the station, his thoughts full of the books he wanted to loan to him, the museums he wanted to visit with him, the things he wanted to keep doing to that firm, tight little ass of his.
The whole weekend combined made it really awkward when the station chief introduced Sorey to his partner on the Shepherd detective force, the seraph specialist Mikleo.
So, he had had a one-night stand, or rather a one-weekend ice cream-and-debauchery fest, with his now-coworker. Sorey knew that dating at work was bad news, and constantly had to overhear gossip on the latest drama about office hookups in the break room at his old station in Ladylake. He'd thought he was above it all, but alas – karma was a bitch, and it was paying him back by banishing him to the realm of sexual limbo. What had seemed like a sure thing, a great way to start off his life in a new city, now seemed too awkward to even consider as they rolled out in a squad car to investigate their first case.
Sorey couldn't bear the silence any longer.
"Listen. I am so sorry I didn't mention where I was going to be working, it's just, some people get on edge when I say I'm on the force, so I didn't really want to-"
"It's fine," Mikleo said, shortly. "Just – don't worry about it."
Sorey managed to stay silent for a few minutes. He did not manage to not worry about it.
"It's just, we're going to be working together now, and I had such a great time, I really did, and I don't want to make things awkward between us-"
"We're here," Mikleo informed him. He threw the car into park and unbuckled himself, trying and failing not to look at the wretched look on Sorey's face. "…listen. I had a great time too, and I don't blame you for anything. But let's just focus on the case for now, okay?"
"Yeah…yeah," Sorey agreed.
The case itself was a pretty standard one. There had been a rash of hellionizations in the area, all producing a certain kind of hellion – goblins, who had an appetite for theft and property vandalism, and also illegal street racing. As was covered in basic Shepherd training, certain types of malevolence tended to create specific breeds of hellion. Goblin hellions grew from turbulent greed and raw gluttony, and the number of cases plus the profile of the area the cases were centered in pointed toward drug-related activity. Lastonbell was a big city, and big cities had drug trafficking problems. And drug trafficking problems led to goblin street races.
"We've been making some arrests in the area recently," Mikleo explained. "All straightforward purify-and-process. Some have had intel on mob activity in the area, but nothing our undercover informants haven't already gotten us. We're closing in on the distributors who are likely operating in the area, but we'll have to monitor to make sure more don't move in when we take down the current big dogs."
Nothing Sorey hadn't already seen in Ladylake. He knew the ins and outs of Ladylake's streets and back alleys better though, and that made it way easier to break up these goblin races when they went down. He also hadn't fucked his investigative partner in Ladylake. Lots of new things to consider in his new home.
A commotion interrupted that line of thought – the telltale hooting, hollering, clattering wheels, and cannonball fire of a goblin street race. At the sight of the squad car, they abruptly changed routes down an alleyway. Mikleo smirked and jumped out of the car.
"Right on time," he said. "Hope you're up for a chase."
"You're on," Sorey replied, giving him a cheeky little grin.
Mikleo took off like a shot, his long legs and knowledge of the area giving him a solid lead on Sorey. Sorey felt his heart flutter, and not just because of the thrill of the chase. He was so, so bad at hookups.
Well, the good news was that they caught the speed demons, and the purification process went smoothly. No surprises there – a bunch of petty street punks were no match for Sorey's knack for purification; the silver flames leaping from his blade and streaking across the ground to burn the taint from their flesh, mind, and souls. He'd been informed his partner was the sharpest shot in the precinct, and he'd lived up to the reputation already; shooting out a wheel axel from one racer, sending him careening into another, setting off a panic among the riders that allowed Sorey to commandeer one of the perps' carts and ride it, flaming sword held high, rattling and clattering through the streets, his own mighty chariot of justice.
It got results. A crew of beat cops was helping them load the purified perps into a transport car, and a tow truck was on its way to pick up the wrecked carts. That being said, it was clear Mikleo was furious with him about the whole chariot of justice thing, and he wouldn't even look at Sorey as he read off his report over the radio.
"A half dozen gobblecarters in the slammer in one shot," one of the beat cops said, admiring. He offered a paw to Sorey to shake. "Not bad for a rookie! Put 'er there, champ."
"Hey, I graduated academy five years ago. You're looking at a seasoned pro, here," Sorey said. However, he knelt to accept the handshake. "This isn't even my biggest haul."
"You tryin' to impress me or your boyfriend there?" laughed the cop. Mikleo continued to ignore them both. "Don't look like he's swayed. Maybe bring in some werewolf pelts and he'll let you take him out on the town."
Sorey rumpled the cop's beret until his paws came up to swipe at him.
"'ey! Knock that off or I'll report you to HR. Don't think you special ops bozos get the privilege to touch this fine headgear."
Leaving the beat cops to coordinate cleanup and transport, Mikleo and Sorey began to make their way back to where they parked the car. Sorey scratched his neck, wincing at Mikleo's silent treatment.
"…I'll take care of the paperwork?" Sorey offered.
"I'm sure Captain Strelka will be ecstatic to read it," Mikleo said dryly. "'Dear Captain, today I nearly made my partner shoot me by bowling into his line of fire, riding atop essential evidence, streaking through the streets like a flaming comet.'"
"You're a flaming comet," retorted Sorey. Mikleo was confused into silence, mouth twisting into a pout, one eyebrow arching. It would be a problem if his partner was this cute, and this easy to rile up. It would be a big problem.
They slid into the squad car, and Sorey yawned and stretched, priding himself on his efforts to not flop one arm around Mikleo's shoulders.
"But it's not a bad haul for my first day, you've got to admit," Sorey said. "Can I drive?"
"Not a chance," Mikleo said, turning on the engine without missing a beat.
Sorey's eyes were bright with exhilaration. "I think, as my senior, you've gotta take it upon yourself to familiarize me with the city. I need to get the lay of the land, you know? Why don't we go out to the belltower tonight; I've always wanted to see it in person."
Mikleo scoffed. "The belltower? Sure, if you want people to think you're a tourist."
"Well," Sorey drawled. "Would a Lastonbell native instead prefer to be taken out to the exhibition on Avarost-era sculpture at the Historical Art Center?"
"No, a native would more prefer to hit the bar district and then heckle the pretentious performance artists in the college town. But I on the other hand have been meaning to see that exhibit anyway." Mikleo got them on the road to the station. "As long as it's not too late when you're finished with your paperwork back at the station, you can tag along, I guess. And if you can pass a city map test."
Sorey pumped his fist. Lucky for him, he'd always been good at geography.