Partners in Deed: shifters and partners, #5

By Hollis Shiloh

Shy Kevin and outrageous Rhys are buddies and police partners—and they sleep together a lot.  Neither one is very mature, but they have fun together and can depend on each other.

Rhys is part wolf shifter but can't shift.  Kev is a former overweight teenager who doesn't stand up for himself very well.  But he wants to be somebody's one and only someday—not just a sex buddy.

When it's time to get certified as the official shifter and partner team their precinct needs, the process reveals fundamental cracks in their relationship, tensions that have to be resolved—one way or another.

Do they have what it takes to make it work—as a team and as more?

33,000 words

• Language: English
• Publisher: Spare Words Press
• Release date: Oct 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533740939

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About the story:

Shy Kevin and outrageous Rhys are buddies and police partners — and they sleep together a lot.  Neither one is very mature, but they have fun together and can depend on each other.

Rhys is part wolf shifter but can't shift.  Kev is a former overweight teenager who doesn't stand up for himself very well.  But he wants to be somebody's one and only someday — not just a sex buddy.

When it's time to get certified as the official shifter and partner team their precinct needs, the process reveals fundamental cracks in their relationship, tensions that have to be resolved — one way or another.

Do they have what it takes to make it work — as a team and as more?

Approx. 33,000 words

Partners in Deed

by Hollis Shiloh

". . . So the mother takes one look at the new husband from across the airport and she screams, 'No, I said a rich doctor.  A rich doctor!'"  He busted up giggling.

Really?  So how old is that joke again?  Older than you, right?  I've heard it told better, I informed him.

Yep, so have I.  He grinned, unrepentant, still chewing his gum, and pushed his sunglasses up and his hat down and scrunched lower on his side of the truck.  But it's still fuckin' funny.  He crossed his arms over his chest and made a sleepy sort of grunt as he wriggled to get more comfortable.

I watched, trying not to notice how dry my mouth had gone.  I remembered to look away, and adjusted my own sunglasses a little.  I cleared my throat.  You working overtime on Halloween?

Yeah, why? he mumbled.  I always do.  It only makes sense, right?

I snorted softly.  Well, that's one way to look at it.  But I might as well stay over, too.  That party thing fell through anyway, and you'll need the backup.

He raised a hand without looking at me, middle finger prominently upright, and held it up for a long moment without bothering to even glance at me.  I reached over and caught his hand.  Instead of wrestling it down, I dragged it over and popped it into my mouth.  That would surprise him for sure. 

What? he squawked, coming alive all at once, limbs flailing awkwardly as he jumped to alertness.  What are you — oh.  He laughed then, sheepish, his cheeks heating as he grinned at me and acknowledged my win. 

Fucker, he said, wiping his hand off on his shirt.  I ought to wipe it on you.  He reached across and did that.  You're hilarious, you know that, right?

Oh, yeah.  I waggled my eyebrows.

He rolled his eyes at me and flopped back, arms crossed over his chest almost defensively.  He sighed, an unhappy sound I didn't like to hear from my partner.

What's the matter? I asked him, alert now.  Something bugging you?

Kinda.  It's wolf nonsense, he said, rolling his eyes.

What?  I thought your pack was finally being cool.  Rhys was one-quarter wolf shifter.  It wasn't enough to give him really cool super powers like changing to a wolf form, but it did affect him in some ways: like giving him really awesome muscle tone he could keep up pretty easily.  He also won arm-wrestling contests (any physical contest, really) even against bigger guys almost all the time.  Not that he was cocky about it or anything.  Asshole.

He made a face, scrunching up his nose, and spoke in his fake-cool, I'm not irritated voice as he leaned back, tracing one finger absently along the doorframe.

Yeah, it's not them this time.  Apparently, because I'm technically wolf shifter, the captain wants me to go through some new training.  To see if I can train as a . . . what's it.  Cop shifter.

I stared at him.  You're going through the shifter certification program?  I tried to keep the excitement out of my voice.  Do you know how cool that is?  Why didn't you tell me?  I gave him a shove on the shoulder.

Knock it off.  It's not cool.  Just what I want — to hang out with a bunch of hotshot wolves who'll look down on me.  And I don't want to be re-teamed, either.  I'm used to your ugly face.

I made a face back at him.

See what I mean?  He gestured.  Who else is going to put up with that?

Oh, like you're so mature!  Would they really reteam you?  I was worried now.  We might not be the world's best duo, but Rhys and I worked well together.

We were cops.  We patrolled the streets.  We got shit done.  And okay, we clowned around a lot.  But that didn't make us bad cops, just guys working a hard job and trying to stay sane. 

And, okay, maybe we were basically big kids, too.

So it was the captain's idea? I asked, trying to keep the worry out of my voice.

Uh-huh.  He stared up at the car's roof, then out the window, then squinting forward as if to see if there was a bug on the windshield.  Basically, anywhere but at me. 

But he wants you to stay at the precinct, right, not send you away?  Hey.  I caught his shoulder and gave him a shake.  Gentle but firm.  It wasn't likely I could hurt him, with his greater strength and endurance.  But I still found myself being gentle with him sometimes, just because.  Maybe, um, I could talk to the captain about this?

He's pretty set on it, mumbled Rhys, staring at his fingertips as if to see whether he had some dirt under the nails.  Then he scrubbed his palms on his thighs and sighed, sitting up from his slouch, and met my gaze.  So maybe we can both go? he asked, raising his brows pleadingly.  I mean, it would be easier.  We just go through, get the certification, maybe a pay raise.  Shit, it would be a good career move, but we'd still be working together, right?

I don't think it works that way.  I considered the problem.  You'd pass the tests?  I mean, all that stuff you have to be able to do?

It was his turn to reach across and shove me.  Of course!  What do you think this is?  He sounded affectionately indignant, as if wondering how I could ever doubt him.

Hey.  I raised my hands in a don't shoot the messenger way.  You're the one who said you'd be up against hotshots.

Yeah, but some of them don't exactly blend into the human world very well, to be honest.  So they need to be babysat.  But I don't, and anyway, the captain only wants to send me through the program so we look better and can officially use my sniffer and don't have to send out for another shifter to add to the payroll to get the same results.  Double duty sort of thing.  He looked at me demandingly, his gaze indicating I was being dense.

It made sense.  Because he was part wolf, Rhys did have stronger senses, and that could come in useful at a crime scene or when it came to probable cause, stuff like that.  But without his being certified, anything we found would all be thrown out in court, and if anybody relied on that alone as evidence, we could get into trouble.  I could see the cap's point of view.

So . . . he wants you to keep working in the precinct, won't let you be sent elsewhere if he can help it? I checked.

No shit, Sherlock.  He rolled his eyes.  Now, will you at least try to keep up?  Help me out, and we can stick together.  Then I can keep covering for your sorry ass.

My ass is never sorry.  I waggled my brows at him.

You're a shit, he informed me.

Yeah, okay.  Okay.  We'll see.  If they'll take me into the program, I'll go along with it.  I frowned.  But I'm not your keeper or something, right?  I mean, we just work together, like always.

Oh, son, I am so your keeper, and you know it.

I conceded the point by not arguing.  It wasn't worth arguing.  We needed some lunch.

Taco Bell, I said before he could announce where we'd eat today.

The fuck?  He stared at me.  Serious conversation here?

Yeah, I know, but I'm hungry.  I'll ask the captain, see if I can sell it to him later.  Now will you fuckin' drive?

Oh, I'm good at driving, baby, he said, giving me an outrageous wink-leer. 

I snorted and rolled my eyes. 

Then I grabbed hold of the door because he peeled out of the parking space, tires squealing.  I didn't bother telling him to be careful or slow down.

It's cool, though, right? I said.  I mean, we still don't have to, like, announce to the world . . .

No, he said abruptly, keeping his eyes straight ahead.  A muscle in his jaw tightened.  That'll be private, like always.

I relaxed subtly. 

The thing was . . . we teased each other outrageously, and bickered and fought . . . but we also slept together.  Not every night, but frequently enough that, if there wasn't a whole lot of closet and denial going around, we'd probably be considered boyfriends, a done thing, a couple.  Fuck, we'd probably get invited to dinner parties and weddings together.  If we were the sort of guys who got invited to weddings and dinner parties.

As it was, we were keeping it quiet.  Yeah, we liked doing each other.  It was hot and heavy sometimes.  But we also worked together and that wasn't totally professional, even if the whole gay thing would be completely cool with our bosses and coworkers, which neither of us was betting on.

The first time it happened — well, we'd agreed we wouldn't tell anyone.  We'd also agreed it had been a mistake and wouldn't happen again. 

We kept the first part of the agreement, anyway.

The thing is, though, he said in his fake-calm voice as he drove, "we'll have to stop maybe a week before we get there, and not at all through training.