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It was late when Bad Cop had gotten the call from Highway Patrol. A patrol car had pulled over an intoxicated driver outside city limits near the suburbs. Normally Bad Cop would have just ignored the call, as it was out of his jurisdiction. But when the Patrolman had informed him of the identity of the driver, he quickly got into his vehicle, and made the long drive out in record time to pick him up.
It was dark, and the only lights that Bad Cop could see were the lights of the patrolman’s vehicle in between the various under construction suburban homes. After he pulled up behind the other vehicle, the Patrolman walked up and explained the situation. The driver had been swerving all over the road. Once he had pulled him over and discovered the driver had a BAC of over 0.15, and promptly deposited him in his own vehicle. But once he realized just who the driver was, he had called Bad Cop almost immediately.
The Patrolman made the right decision in calling him, because there in the backseat of the patrol car was one very intoxicated Emmet Brickowski. He was singing a very slurred version of ‘Everything is awesome.’ seemingly unaware of the situation that he was in.
Bad Cop gave a very exasperated sigh as he thanked the Patrolman, and had him swear to never tell anyone about this. Normally Bad Cop would have just let a suspect get the DUI, but Emmet was still special despite claims that he was not. Or rather ‘everyone was special’, whatever that meant.
After defeating President Business, Emmet had become a sort of celebrity, but Emmet did not take his new Celebrity status well and was struggling to keep a normal life. One aspect of the celebrity status that Emmet did not enjoy the most was tabloid scandals. A DUI for the man who thwarted President Business would have made headlines for sure, and most defiantly would have hurt the young construction worker’s reputation.
Bad Cop opened the Patrolman’s vehicle, and Emmet looked over with a wide grin and joyously shouted, “Bad Cop!” Emmet had looked genuinely excited to see him, but Bad Cop had put that to his current intoxicated state.
“Hey Brickowski.” Bad Cop calmly spoke as he reached his arms in, but inside he was raging. He was going to give Emmet such a talk about the dangers of drunk driving later. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.”
“Yaaaaaaay.” Emmet slurred quietly, wrapping his arms around Bad Cop in a bear hug. It was a good thing it was dark, or the Patrolman would have seen the blush that spread hot across Bad Cop’s face as he held onto the very drunk and affectionate Construction worker.
After the struggle of getting the very large and swaying Emmet out of the patrol car and placed into his own vehicle, Bad Cop began the long drive of getting Emmet back home. Emmet had started to babble to Bad Cop in the back seat.
Apparently –what Bad Cop could understand in between incoherent slurring— Emmet had been at a retirement party for a co-worker who had been working on a site near the suburban homes. It was purely a company thing, so he didn’t bring any of his usual friends with him or else they certainly would have driven him home. Somehow a drinking contest had happened between him and a woman named Gail, and Emmet wasn’t sure what happened after that.
Bad Cop shook his head in an amused manner. Emmet held a strange power over him, one that affected Bad Cop to never remain mad at him for long. Of course Bad Cop knew the reason why Emmet held such power over him; it was because he was hopelessly infatuated with the construction worker.
It was shortly after the defeat of Lord Business, or probably even before that, maybe in the think tank where Emmet had witnessed the death of his friend Vitruvius. Bad Cop, who never felt sympathy for a suspect before in his life, had suddenly felt bad for Emmet. But when Bad Cop he had seen Emmet cry, he was suddenly filled with the urge to comfort the man. It was a strange feeling for him.
From that one simple emotion it exploded into a full out infatuation. He refused to use the word crush to describe it. A crush was something teenaged girls had for boy bands and actors, as they screamed their silly little heads off for a glimpse of a hand over a hotel balcony. And it wasn’t love either, because that would just be pathetic of him. No this was an infatuation. Because an infatuation can be monitored, controlled, and most importantly hidden away. This was an infatuation nothing more.
He tried to remind himself of that, as he held a swaying and affectionate Emmet while trying to navigate the stairs to Emmet’s apartment. Bad Cop held onto Emmet with one of his arms wrapped around the front holding onto the other man’s shoulder, and another on his waist stabilizing the unsteady man. Emmet could still walk, though shaky, but he kept mistaking the helping arms as a hug and repeatedly tried to wrap his own around Bad Cop. Causing the two of them to almost fall down the stairs several times.
“Brickowski, I need you to stop hugging me while I get you upstairs.” Bad Cop seethed through his teeth as the latest hug deprived him of oxygen.
“You’re my friend Bad Cop.” Emmet said in a childishly gleeful voice hugging him tightly. He tucked his head into Bad Cop’s shoulder. “Why don’t you come over anymore?” Emmet slurred in a sudden serious tone.
Bad Cop grunted, having given up on trying to get Emmet to walk on his own, and dragged Emmet the rest of the stairs up to his floor. Emmet was referring to how in the beginning of their acquaintanceship when Bad Cop would check up on Emmet. He had ‘acquired’ a spare key –Borrowed legitimately, really.—and whenever on patrol in Emmet’s neighbourhood, he would make sure that his apartment was secure and no one bothered him. Bad Cop had become Emmet’s self-appointed bodyguard.
But Bad Cop didn’t feel the need to do that anymore. The infatuation affliction had been getting worst as he continued to see Emmet every day. In order to monitor it and keep it under control, Bad Cop decided that limiting his interactions with Emmet was the only option he had. Even now he could feel the affliction grow as Emmet’s warm embrace caused his heart to beat faster and faster.
Emmet started to whine over the fact Bad Cop had not answered his question. Bad Cop, who not only had to juggle the swaying man in one arm while unlocking the Apartment door with another, held a very stern and serious look on his face as his annoyance of the situation started to grow.
“Brickowski, please, hold still a moment while I open your door.” He was tempted to just toss Emmet inside as soon as the door was open, and just leave the situation as it. But his parents taught him better, he needed to make sure that Emmet was properly taken care of and put into bed properly. This wasn’t because of his infatuation made him care, he told himself, and he wasn’t going to enjoy taking care of Emmet not one bit.
When Bad Cop finally opened the door, he moved Emmet inside and stood him in the entranceway. He let go of Emmet for two seconds (he counted) to close the door behind them, and Emmet was on the floor instantly. Emmet landed face first with a rather loud thud that echoed in the empty apartment.
“Emmet!” Bad Cop cried out in concern as he knelt down next to Emmet to try and sit him back up. “Are you hurt?” Apparently Emmet was more intoxicated than he had originally thought.
Emmet just started laughing as he sat on the floor. He leaned into Bad Cop’s kneeling body and relaxed his head on his chest.
“I missed you!” Emmet proclaimed a little too loud, “I missed you!” he said more quietly this time.
“Yeah, yeah.” Bad Cop said taking Emmet’s shoulders in hand; he was going to attempt to stand Emmet one more time.
Suddenly Emmet’s hands were on his neck and face, and Bad Cop froze, he found himself staring right into the face of a very serious looking Emmet. All drunkenness gone, it was replaced with a very solemn and heartbreakingly sad look.
Emmet started to lean his face towards Bad Cop’s, almost like he wanted to kiss him. The blush on Bad Cop’s face spread, the fast beating of his heart echoed in his ears, it made him ignore any objections that his mind was screaming at him in this moment. Suddenly his infatuation was in full force, and he filled with need to feel Emmet’s lips on his own.
Emmet moved his face closer and closer. Just as their lips were about to touch, Emmet moved away. His face suddenly lost all colour, and then promptly vomited all over Bad Cop’s uniform.
The sudden vomiting awoke Bad Cop from his reverie, and let out a disgusted and angry groan as he looked over his uniform. It was everywhere. Apparently Emmet had eaten quite a bit before he had decided to get home.
“Oh no.” Emmet spoke quietly.
Bad Cop looked up from his uniform to see the utter devastation on Emmet’s face, as giant tears started forming around Emmet’s eyes. Emmet pushed himself away from Bad Cop and curled himself up in a foetal position. “Oh No!” He sobbed louder.
The drunkenness that had disappeared from Emmet only moments ago had returned in full force. Emmet slumped over and started to roll around the entranceway like a child. His loud sobbing filled the empty apartment.
Bad Cop ignored the drunken theatrics of Emmet for a moment to go towards the kitchen. Mostly to use the sink to clean off his uniform, but to also berate himself for behaving so inappropriately towards Emmet. If that were indeed a kiss Emmet was trying to initiate, it would have ruined everything he had been hiding. It would have been disastrous, not only for his infatuation, but because technically he would have been taking advantage of Emmet’s intoxicated state. Because there was no way Emmet knew what he was doing, he couldn’t possibly have wanted to kiss him right?
Bad Cop’s heart sank as he kept thinking about the almost kiss. His infatuation was an affliction that caused him pain on a daily basis. As much as he believed he had his feelings under control, the fact that it was one sided and would never be accepted hurt him. As much as he denied it, and had called it pathetic of himself, he knew he was already wandering the road of a once sided love.
Even though said object of his affection was now drunkenly sobbing somewhere in the living room.
After removing his outer coat and placing it in the sink, as it was impossible to clean it all at the moment he would leave it for later, Bad Cop grabbed a wet towel and glass of water and returned to find Emmet crawling over towards his living room. Emmet looked very much like he was trying desperately to get away from Bad Cop.
“What are you doing?” Bad Cop asked kneeling down to Emmet.
“You hate me!” Emmet cried, his face half hidden in his carpet.
“I don’t hate you.” Bad Cop extended his hand to pass the glass to Emmet, “Sit up and drink this.”
Emmet obediently rolled over and sat up. He took the glass from Bad Cop and began to drink it slowly with his eyes on Bad Cop the entire time. Bad Cop took advantage of Emmet’s distraction with the glass of water and began to use the damp cloth to clean the remains of vomit on the side of Emmet’s face.
“Why not?” Emmet suddenly asked as Bad Cop cleaned the side of Emmet’s face.
“Why what?”
“Why don’t you hate me?” Emmet looked up with puppy dog eyes, “You stopped coming around. I thought you hated me because of stuff.” Emmet slurred.
“It’s impossible to hate you for very long, Brickowski.” Bad Cop smiled, he suddenly realized how silly the situation was. Here he was cleaning vomit off the face of the most incredible person he had ever met.
“I like you.” Emmet blushed.
Bad Cop stopped his cleaning. He could feel his heart doing summersaults in his chest at those three words. He could not believe it, but really he refused to believe it. Emmet had no idea what he was saying.
“You’re drunk.” Bad Cop resumed his cleaning.
“I threw up.” Emmet shamefully said, “I got it all over you.”
“I know.” Bad Cop gave an amused smiled.
“I’m sorry.” Emmet once again leaned into Bad Cop, in an attempt to get his face as close as possible.
“No, not again.” Bad Cop put a hand to Emmet’s face and pushed him away, “We need to get you into bed.” Bad Cop took the glass away from Emmet and tried to lift him up again. “Come on, up you go.”
“Noooooo, no bed. I want to stay with you.” Emmet suddenly, with great precision and strength, wrapped his arms around Bad Cop’s waist. Bad Cop attempted to escape the hold, but Emmet’s Construction worker strength prevented him “Stay!” Emmet gave a cry.
“Let go of me Brickowski.” Bad Cop started to blush once again at the close proximity of Emmet.
Emmet’s strength caught Bad Cop off guard, and suddenly he lost his balance and fell atop of Emmet. Emmet rolled Bad Cop over, trapping him underneath his body, and leaned over top of him.
“Stay.” Emmet almost commanded, as he laid his head under Bad Cop’s chin.
Bad Cop felt like he was on fire. Emmet’s body was radiating heat like a furnace, and his face was burning up from his flush of having Emmet’s Body on top of him. Emmet’s embrace was also starting to have physical effects on him as well. This was extremely bad for himself; he needed to escape out of this situation before Emmet started to notice. But it was too late, as Emmet leaned into a very sensitive part on his body.
Bad Cop bit back moan before shouting, “OKAY!” Bad Cop shoved Emmet’s shoulder with his free arm, “Okay! I will stay! Just get off me!” Bad Cop shoved Emmet repeatedly to get the man’s attention. If anyone had witnessed this, they would have described it as being similar to a cat trying to be released from its owner’s hold.
Emmet groaned sadly, upset to relinquish his hold over Bad Cop. But once the release was loose enough Bad Cop immediately stood up, ridged and flushed, he looked everywhere but the drunk man on the ground. What had he gotten into?
Bad Cop sighed; he was so sick and tired of being manhandled right now. All he needed to do was put Emmet to bed. Once Emmet passed out he would leave this apartment, and he would forget this entire ordeal.
Bad Cop finally looked at Emmet once again. Emmet seemed to have found his carpet suddenly fascinating, and started to pick at it. Bad Cop touched Emmet’s shoulder softly, cautious of another bodily attack, Emmet responded with a drunken smile.
“Okay Brickowski, I need to get up, and ready for bed. Can you do that?”
“Maybe…you’ll stay right?” Emmet’s eyes got wide with worry, “You’re not gonna leave?”
“No, I’ll stay.”
“Promise?”
Bad Cop groaned; this childishness needed to end, and fast. “Yes I promise. Now get up, and we’ll get you ready for bed.”
Walking Emmet down his hallway towards his bedroom proved easier than the ordeal of getting him up the stairs of his apartment building. Once in Emmet’s Bedroom, Bad Cop sat Emmet down on the edge of his bed. Bad Cop went to closet to get the man’s pajamas, but when he turned around Emmet had already begun undressing himself. Only Emmet was currently stuck with his shirt halfway off his body, covering his head.
Bad Cop tried not to be distracted with Emmet’s bare midriff, as he pulled the shirt the rest of the way off of Emmet’s head. Once the shirt was gone, Emmet greeted Bad Cop with another drunken smile. Bad Cop stepped away, in case it was a sign of another hug attack.
“Here.” Bad Cop tossed the Pajamas to Emmet. “Put these on.”
As Emmet slowly started to dress himself again, Bad Cop took the opportunity to go back to the kitchen to fetch another glass of water. Emmet was bound to be dehydrated after his drunken night; so if he drank enough water now it would prevent a hangover. When he returned, Emmet was struggling to place his foot in the leg hole of his pants. He kept missing it, every time he moved his foot to enter the pant leg.
“Here.” Bad Cop passed the water, “Drink all of it.” He ordered, and then went to assist the lost leg into the pant leg.
Emmet obediently drank the entire cup of water and passed it back to Bad Cop, swaying slightly. He was about to crash, Bad Cop was certain of this. He ordered Emmet under the sheets and tucked him in.
“All right then. Goodnight now, Brickowski.” Bad Cop turned to walk away, but Emmet made a grab of his hand and stopped him.
“Where are you going?” Emmet cried out.
“I’ll be in the living room.” Bad Cop said, he was going to wait for Emmet to fall asleep before he made his break for it, “I won’t be far.”
“No!” Emmet cried as he pulled the hand towards him, and once again wrapped his arms around Bad Cops waist. His face firmly squished into Bad Cop’s middle.
“What do you want Brickowski?” Bad Cop took Emmet’s shoulders in hand, “You need to sleep.” He felt like he was babysitting a toddler.
And I need to get out of here. Bad Cop thought. This night was starting to prove a real hazard for his affliction. Pretty soon his composure would crack.
“Sleep with me.” Emmet spoke into Bad Cop’s middle.
And there it went.
Bad Cop had no response, he froze to the spot. Unblinking, he stared ahead at nothing.
“Sleep with me?” Emmet spoke again, unsure if Bad Cop had heard anything. Bad Cop had stopped moving, too lost in his thoughts about the implications of what was just uttered to him.
Emmet took the opportunity to grab a hold of Bad Cop’s shocked form, picking him up with little effort, and deposited him onto the empty side of the bed next to him. Bad Cop gave a gasp as the drop onto the bed woke him from his shock. He immediately tried to escape from the bed, but was stopped by Emmet’s strong arms pressing him onto the mattress.
“Sleepover.” Emmet mumbled.
Bad Cop was still in shock, everything about the situation was insane. He needed to get out of here, out of this bed, out of Emmet’s apartment. Escape, possibly flee to another country. But another part of him just wanted to enjoy that embrace, just cuddle up and let loose the emotions he had been bottling up for so long.
He also wanted to cry at the pure torture of it all. Here was the man he so desperately wanted in his life, hugging him, wanting him to be with him. But would probably never remember this, or actually have feelings like this for him once sober.
Emmet had to be running out of steam soon. He would stay; he would indulge the drunken man for a little while, just until Emmet passed out. Then he would leave and never come back.
He wanted to kill himself.
“Fine!” Bad Cop spoke, frustration in his voice.
“Yay!” Emmet smiled.
Emmet was comfortably cuddling Bad Cop’s side, with one arm around him in a tight squeeze. Bad Cop was trying to fix his position on the bed into something more comfortable, and carefully maneuvering around Emmet to remove his boots. Even though he was on top of the covers, he did not want to mess up the bed with them.
“Bad Cop, you’re not so bad.” Emmet spoke, contentment on his face as he watched Bad Cop fix himself on the bed sheets.
Bad Cop gave Emmet a strange look, “What do you mean not so bad?”
“I mean, you’re nice.” Emmet giggled, “Nice Bad Cop.” Emmet poked at Bad Cop glasses.
A terrible feeling arose in Bad Cop, “I’m not that nice.” A nice man wouldn’t have impure thoughts about another.
“Yes you are!” Emmet said defensively, “I forgave you for shooting my foot!”
Bad Cop covered his face with his hand, suddenly more guilty about his actions towards Emmet. Why did Emmet have to bring that up? He had actually forgotten the train incident from when he had attached the tracking device to Emmet. He gave an embarrassed groan as he remembered the cries of pain he heard from Emmet in that moment.
“I forgive you!” Emmet made a statement, “I forgive you! So you should come back!” Emmet said, sadness suddenly filling his voice. “Come back, and be my friend again.”
Bad Cop felt the area on his chest where Emmet’s head rested becoming wet through his white under shirt. Was Emmet crying? Bad Cop had no idea that when he separated himself from Emmet it would have had this effect on him.
Bad Cop used his free hand to pat Emmet on the head in a sympathetic manner, “There, there, Brickowksi. It’s not the end of the world.” Bad Cop didn’t know how serious he should take the drunken ramblings of Emmet. But even while drunk, he hated to see Emmet cry.
“You’ll stay right?” Emmet sat up and looked Bad Cop in the face, “Be here in the morning?”
Bad Cop started into Emmet eyes, they reflected the same sudden sobriety as when Emmet had tried to kiss him, and it sent a wave of tenderness in Bad Cop’s heart. Maybe Emmet would remember this, but that was impossible.
Bad Cop gave a nod, worried that his voice would say something else.
“Great, I’ll … waffles.” Emmet said with a yawn. Emmet then laid his head upon Bad Cop’s chest, and within moments Emmet was out, snoring softly.
Bad Cop, on the other hand, was trapped. He had underestimated his ability to escape the situation, along with Emmet’s Bed, because Emmet’s hold on him was strong and was unwilling to let him go. Every time he wanted to escape from his feelings for Emmet, Emmet just pulled him back into it.
Bad Cop was tired. This entire ordeal was stressful and exhausting, emotionally and physically. Trying to get Emmet to release him, while making sure the other man remained asleep, was proving to be futile. Bad Cop had begun to close his eyes a few times, but began to blink furiously several times to try and remain awake. He did not want to fall asleep here. This was a very hazardous situation he was in.
The cute and adorable face of Emmet while asleep was a forbidden fruit. He found his body acting on its own, wanting to hold that face with his hand, to brush against it, to kiss it. But Bad Cop just berated himself, and bit his bottom lip to distract himself. The pain was a distraction, but it was small compared to the warmth of the body next to him. He was going to bite his lip off if something did not happen.
This was torture, and it was all Emmet’s fault.
But that wasn’t true. Inside he knew that he was the one at fault here. Maybe he let himself get manhandled by Emmet on purpose, just for a chance to embrace him. He was such an idiot, a proud and horrible idiot.
Emmet gave a sleepy sigh in his sleep as he moved closer to Bad Cop. Bad Cop gave an exhausted sigh, he was going to be stuck here all night. And so, giving in finally to the situation, Bad Cop wrapped his arms around Emmet and embraced him. Bad Cop couldn’t remember the last time he felt such contentment in his life, followed by a deep and horrible feeling of guilt. He shouldn’t be enjoying this, he told himself.
Laying his head a top of Emmet’s he gave one last exhausted sigh and spoke quietly to the room, “I like you too, Emmet.”