Jack the Shredder

Yet when Gurst returned with fresh tea, Bennington was softly snoring on the sofa. 3.7 stood for a moment, simply staring down at the tired man. Love surfaced in the dark haired man's expression. He set the tea down on the coffee table and gently picked up Bennington's feet and swung them up on the sofa. Bennington murmered in irritation but he did not wake up. Gurst went into his bedroom, removed an extra blanket, returned to his friend and partner, and spread the red and blue striped cover over the sleeping man. 

"Sleep well, Tinkerbell." Gurst grinned at his silly joke and went to bed. 
It was the smell of food cooking that woke Bennington the next day. It was late afternoon. The sunlight filtered in though the gauzy curtains. It teased his eyes. Complaining, Bennington turned over, realized he was not in his own apartment and then sat up. Rubbing his eyes, he rose. His first trip was to the bathroom, the next one was into the miniature kitchen. 

"Morning," he murmured as he went to the teapot. He poured himself a cup and sat down. 
"More like good afternoon," Gurst teased. "I made fish and chips. They were frozen, but I'm sure they're palatable enough. I don't suppose you're hungry, are you?" 
"Starved." He studied the other man with brooding eyes. 
"What's wrong? I got something private hanging out or something?" He set a plate of food in front of his friend. 
"I was just thinking about something you said last night." 
"Like what?" He plucked silverware down beside the plate and then retrieved his own food. 
"You exchanged sex for money?" 
"I was hungry, had been for a couple of weeks. It was either that or eat garbage. At the time, it seemed the better option. I didn't like it though...made me feel dirty." 
"I'm sorry." 
Gurst shrugged. "I survived. A cop arrested me and threatened to send me to the Nick...or..." An odd look appeared in his blue eyes. There was an equally strange tone to his voice. "It was either go to jail or join the Merchant Marines." 
"So you decided on the Marines?" 
"Yeah." 
"You're really bent, then?" 
"More like I'm bent and wiggly, half and half, Phil. I'm bi." 
They stared at each other for a moment. "I never guessed." 
"Same here, rosebud." Gurst picked up a triangular piece of fish, took a bite. After a moment, he asked, "I grow another head?" 
Bennington flushed. "No, sorry. I didn't mean to stare. It's just..." 
"It makes a difference?" 
"Does knowing I'm homosexual make a difference to you?" 
Gurst's features took on a distant look. "Yeah." 
"How?" 
"How?" 3.7 almost smiled. It was a strained upturning of his lips. His muscles were tense. "I've always fancied you." 
Pleased, Bennington did grin. "Have you, now?" 
Gurst's face eased. "Yeah." 
"So." 
Gurst wiped his mouth on his napkin. He rose and went around the table to stand beside his partner. "Hi." 
Bennington stood up. "Hi." 
Gurst's hand caressed the lean, prosaic face. "You're beautiful." 
"Men aren't beautiful." 
"You are." His lips brushed across the other's and then settled more firmly. "Phil..." he whispered. Bennington's arms went around his partner. Lips parted, tongues investigated the joy that represented each other's awareness. 
Gurst's hands went up beneath the purple and white shirt Bennington wore. He soothed the muscles that waited, taut for the other's touch. He nuzzled the strong neck. Gurst pressed close, allowing the other man to feel his awakening erection. 
"Phil?" 
"If you have to ask, then you're not old enough." Bennington's face glowed with elation. 
Laughing, Gurst led him into the small bedroom.

*** 

"Let's call it quits," Gurst whispered loudly from his hiding place. The night felt damper than normal. came the irritated thought. He shook it away.  
"Just a little longer." Bennington's nerve endings tingled. He unzipped his jacket, undid his shirt. He fluffed up his hair. 
"Phil?" 
"Well, it worked last night. Look at all the offers I got." 
"Better watch your pride, Sunshine." 
They heard the sound of a well oiled car heading toward them. 
Gurst melted back into the darkness of the corner he hid in. 
A black car appeared around the corner. 
"This is it," Bennington murmered beneath his breath. He knew, he just knew. 
"Don't play hero," Gurst whispered back. 
The car was black...it was Italian...and it stopped. A man got out. Bennington's whole body grew tense. Something gleamed in the man's hand. It was only for a second, but it was long enough for the CI5 agent to see. In one second, it seemed, the stranger ran from the car to Bennington. The murderer's hand lifted as he neared Bennington. The CI5 agent's own hand went up to grab the other's wrist. Without waiting, Gurst shot out and added his own strength to Bennington's. Within seconds, the Shredder was subdued, handcuffed. 

Bennington collapsed against Gurst just for an instant. The dark haired man gripped his partner's elbow. 
"It's over." 
Bennington sighed wearily. "Yeah." 
It would be up to the authorities to prove a case, but with Bennington's testimony that the stranger had attacked him with the knife, it would be enough to start the ball rolling. 
"Let's go home," Gurst said after Stevens and the police had come and taken charge of the man known for the last three months as 'Jack the Shredder'. They went to Gurst's car. 
"Let's go to my place." Bennington suggested as they drove off. 
"Why?" 
"My bed's bigger."