Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 3

gun is from Halo wind up here?! One minute I was shooting an exploding barrel and the next I was taking down a drug kingpin but there's no A button on this gun and I can't see through my fucking helmet.
    ~ Huge Cock Lover

    genre: contemporary romance; action
    tags: law enforcement; first time; hurt/comfort; hostage situation
    word count: 9,143
    Back to Table of Contents

     
    EXCEPTION
    by Rinny Cinnamon
    Charlie sighed and fought the urge to dance in place as he waited for the line to move forward. Morning bank runs were one of his least favorite things to do, but as the opening shift leader, he didn't have much of a choice. The shop needed change, after all.
    It was busy enough for a Tuesday morning though, as far as he could tell, there were only two tellers working. Despite the long line of customers, the bank was quiet, the only sounds those of hushed voices, the random rustle of shifted papers, and the ticking of a clock. It might have been relaxing if it weren't for the intangible heaviness in the air that comes of a group of people being forced to wait politely.
    Charlie glanced at his watch. Ten twenty-five. At this rate, his shift would be over before he even managed to reach the counter. He looked up as the woman in front of him shuffled forward as if in response to his silent complaint. Movement in front of her caught Charlie's eye and his gaze landed on what had to be the most perfect ass he'd ever seen. His eyebrows rose in pleasant surprise as he looked the man up and down, taking in as much of his appearance as he could from the back. Tall, at least six foot, dark brown hair just long enough to curl at the collar of his well-cut, dark brown leather jacket, broad shoulders that narrowed to a trim waist, and tight-fitting jeans that lovingly cupped that round, perfect ass. Charlie was practically salivating, all thoughts of irritation and the annoyance of waiting in line sufficiently silenced.
    The sound of pointed throat-clearing brought Charlie back from fantasy land and he looked up to see the owner of the perfect ass arching an eyebrow at him from his place at the teller's window to Charlie's right. He was chagrined to find that the man was even more beautiful from the front: light blue eyes under thick dark eyebrows, a perfect, blade-straight nose, and full lips curled into a knowing smirk. Charlie swallowed hard as his face heated, but he offered a shaky, sheepish smile in return.
    "Excuse me," the woman behind him said, her tone firm, but clearly amused. "But you're next."
    Charlie followed the line of her pointed finger to the empty teller's window. "Oh, shit. Sorry."
    Shaking his head and thoroughly embarrassed, Charlie stepped up to the window, sparing a sidelong glance at Perfect Ass, who was still staring at him. His smirk had turned into a proper smile and a nervous chuckle escaped Charlie as he forced himself to turn back to the unimpressed teller.
    "Heh, sorry about that… eh… Bob," Charlie said, squinting a little to read the name tag pinned to the teller's shirt. "Bob, uh, nice name."
    Bob gave him an incredulous look. "No, it's not. It's a terrible name."
    Charlie rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling awkward and off-kilter. "Oh. Sorry, of course. I mean. Sorry."
    He glanced surreptitiously to his right. Perfect Ass had finally looked away, but his smile was still firmly in place as he filled out some form.
    "Is there something I can do for you today, sir?" Bob asked, drawing Charlie's attention back to the task at hand.
    "Yes! Right, sorry, I just need some change. Some fives, tens, and twenties, please."
    Charlie slid his money bag over with a list of the denominations he needed and drummed his fingertips on the counter while Bob counted out the bills. He was just considering looking over to see how Perfect Ass was getting on when he sensed a presence at his side. Slowly, he looked up to find the man himself smiling down at him.
    "Hi. I'm Niko," he said, offering his hand.
    Charlie blinked, stunned into inaction. He looked down at the hand, down at his own faded red Game Stop-issued polo shirt and khakis, and then back up into Perfect Ass—Niko's—face. The smile had started to fade, replaced by uncertainty, and it was only then Charlie realized he had left him hanging. He slid his hand into Niko's and gripped it tightly before it could be taken back.
    "Charles," Charlie blurted and then recoiled. "I mean Charlie. I have no idea why I said Charles, I never go by that, it's