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Benny & Ray 87 Pride Dee Gilles Rated R

Captain Daniel Briggs had just about seen it all today. "Pride Day", they called it. Shit. "Shame Day" was more like it. What a waste of man power to have to look after the personal safety of the freaks that paraded through the streets of the city, sullying it with their presence. He wished to hell they would just stay home where they belonged. Swishy little fags and ugly bull dykes running around everywhere. Tranvestites, drag queens and chicks with dicks. Disgusting. But it was his duty.

They were so short-handed he had to patrol a section of the parade himself. And the chief was allowing a lot of overtime, otherwise he'd just have some of the men work overtime. But double time and a half in times like these was as impossible as snow in July.

He sent in his most expendable people to patrol the streets; a couple of blacks, Miller and Jones; the girl, Buchanan; and the fag, Fraser.

If things got out of hand today, then so be it. Nobody could say he didn't have his people on it. No one could blame him if anything went wrong. Maybe something would go wrong.

What was there to be so `proud' of? When he was a kid, people had the decency to be ashamed of themselves if they were deviants. One kid he knew hanged himself when people found out.

He was a teenager when the Stonewall thing happened in New York City. He had just graduated high school that summer, up in Mahwah. His parent's house was located near the top of a hill, and he could see the city lights from his bedroom window at night. He used to fantasize that he'd move to those big bright lights one day. Maybe go to college. Be somebody.

The kid-- Jay something-or-other-- had been arrested and it made the Mahwah paper. Nobody knew before then that he was a fag, and when that got out, he became the talk of the little town, the laughing stock. Briggs was as surprised as anybody. He thought he would have known. He thought that kind of a thing showed somehow, on the face, in the walk. Somehow.

Jay was two years ahead of him in school. He thought he remembered that he was in some kind of art school. Or maybe it was music. Anyway, the dad found out. Told him never to come home. And they found the kid a few days later hanging in the basement of the residence hall he was living in.

It still made him shutter to think about it.

Fraser kind of reminded him of Jay. Just a straight-acting guy. Seemed normal. He'd liked the guy at first, until he found out that he was a raging faggot. Briggs hated being blind-sided like that.

He'd said a couple of things to some of the guys, including Officer Dudley, who he thought could sympathize. But Dudley took Fraser's side, even ratting out some of his remarks to the chief, which really landed him in hot water. Well. Look where Dudley was now.

Briggs wished Fraser would go away, too. Now he had another fag on his hands. He hadn't seen Vecchio since Fraser started, and now all of a sudden these past couple of weeks, Vecchio was all over the place. He usually came around two or three afternoons, and the two of them went to lunch together, all cozy and sweet. Some nights he'd pick him up, and he'd have the baby with him, in the back seat. He wished Vecchio would just stay in the ghetto where they put him.

It seemed like Fraser went out of his way to flaunt his relationship and his body to Briggs. His uniform was tight and clung to his ass. Every time he was in the room, Briggs was aware of this strong undercurrent of...sex. The fabric of his uniform clung to his crotch. He had a certain fragrance of soap, or shampoo or something that Briggs always noticed. He had a way of smiling at him that made him feel acutely uncomfortable.

He'd dearly love to go after Fraser, get him on something. But Fraser was Mr. Perfect, everybody's darling, including the chief's, so he was untouchable. He hated the man. Smiling all the time. So polite. It had to be bullshit. Nobody was that damned polite, that damned happy all the time. A reporter had come by the other day and wanted to do a "human interest" story on him, maybe put his picture in the paper. Briggs had sent him packing.

The other day, he caught Vecchio and Fraser in the stables together, kissing and making out. It was early on a Sunday morning and nobody else was around. Vecchio had his hand on Fraser's ass while they kissed. He watched crouched down low in a stall while Vecchio, facing him, occasionally whispered to Fraser, sometimes running his fingers over the other man's face.

Seeing two men together was ...weird. He had crouched back deeper in the shadows and watched. He was appalled, watching them kiss and grope one another. He could hear the sound of their wet mouths coming together, sucking. Could hear the rasp of fabric against fabric, heard their breathy whispers and little moans...

He must have made some slight noise because Fraser heard him and the two men pulled apart. Fraser at least had the decency to turn red. His partner just kind of shrugged it off with a smirk on his face. "Are you two quite through?" he asked after straightening and clearing his throat. He smoothed his pants and adjusted the front pleats, wiping off imaginary dirt.

"Sorry," Fraser said. "I...You...wanted me?" he stammered out.

"I'd like to see you in my office," he said. "And you," he said, pointing at the smirking Vecchio. "You're keeping my officer from his duties and I'd thank you to keep off the premises. You got no business here."

"Yeah, whatever," the Italian responded, sticking his hands in his pockets and casually sauntering off. "I'll pick ya up after, Benny," he said.

"Have a good day, Ray," Fraser said.

He escorted Fraser to his office and shut and locked the door.

FINIS