Mike Salinas and Joe Delmonico are friends ... and criminals. Or so Joe thinks. Mike, however, has a secret that threatens to blow everything out of the water. Joe isn't sure what to think of Mike's revelation, and neither is sure how to handle the job they were supposed to do.
Now they're on the run, but disaster isn't far behind. When it catches up with them, both men face not only their own mortality, but the possibility of losing the love they've slowly nurtured. Knowing Mike sacrificed everything, Joe vows to turn his own life around and give his lover the happy-ever-after they both want.
Joe gives Mike a contemplative look. “Look, if ya wanna go over the plan again, and then ... we can have a beer or two, I think we will be fine. You know I’ll have your back, and you’ll have mine. No matter what.” Joe says it with the most beautiful smile Mike has ever seen, and it breaks his heart, making something within Mike crack.
Mike stands up abruptly and feels his lungs set on fire. “Joe, I’m a cop, okay?”
Joe gives him a look of utter disbelief. “No ... no, you aren’t, Mike! Don’t fuck around!”
“Yes, I am.”
The solid statement isn’t meant to be black and white, but Mike needs to be clear. In his peripheral, he notices Joe has a terrified look, edging toward his holstered gun but trembling. It’s such a delicate moment of fear and anger marred by their recent interactions of mirth, trust, and friendship. Joe gives him a small look that makes Mike’s heart drop. He moves his hand away from the weapon in a gesture that makes Mike feel safe. It’s a stark contrast from even a few days ago as they played cards together, (gin rummy, Joe had requested), and somehow landed in each other’s arms in a quiet and deep embrace.
“How long? I mean, what the fuck, Mike?”
“This was an undercover job. But ... fuck, Joe, I’m done. I can’t do it. I wanna leave this shithole and go somewhere. Like ... the tropics. Far away.” Mike sighs. “I haven’t told anyone in the force shit about you. Everything you’ve told me ... it’s just been me that’s known it. I don’t ... Joe ... I can’t explain how much you ...” Mike can’t finish the sentiment. It can’t be summed up simply.
Mike feels something more for Joe than any other person, or girlfriend, or family member, combined, and it’s not going to cut it to just say something simple like ... I love you? He almost swears that Joe looks like he’s going through the most crazy, existential crisis yet, but more so because what happened just now cemented their relationship beyond titles or jobs or money.
“I’d hardly say LA is a shithole, man. But the job is in two days. These people are nuts. If they catch us running off ... I don’t know what they’ll do. If they get caught, they’ll blame us.”
Mike takes in the biggest sigh of relief. He truly wants to hug Joe again like they did before, but he can’t. He knows at the very least that Joe doesn’t hate him right now.
Joe gives him a look of complete bafflement.
Mike just sighs. “Joe, I literally would take a bullet for you. I don’t care about this anymore. All of it. I’m tired. But ... I ...” He laughs nervously. “I fuckin’ care about you. I just know some shit is gonna go down. Not because I know, but because I really have a crappy feeling.”
Joe nods a little. “But ... you are really a cop?”
“Yeah. I’m ... I do like being a cop. But I ... I can’t do this anymore.”
“You like it?” Joe says in shock.
“Yeah. Well, I did. Listen, Joe, I think you are a good person, and I ... I know this might sound stupid and phony as hell, but I think you are better than this. We can build something better than this shit.”
“We?” Joe echoes, and he sounds tired.
Mike sighs. “I don’t know why I said that. I’m sorry.”
Joe shrugs, but he seems hurt. “That’s okay.”
They both start to think about how when they all first met, how they hit it off so easily, and how they diverged from the group little by little --going out by themselves and sharing more than they were supposed to, like their names and where they lived.
It’s a heavy moment, and they both say nothing, the weight of the situation on their shoulders.
Mike realizes how much Joe really means to him. He takes in a deep breath. “Fuck it, Joe, I actually do know why I said we. It’s because ...”
Joe’s eyes widen. Even in the late eighties, it isn’t really the most normal thing a person should go around talking about. You’ll get your ass kicked. Or you might even get killed.
“Because we are ... best buds?” Joe asks.
Mike decides that’s just not going to cut it. He decides to show Joe what he means. He looks at Joe, with his slicked back blonde hair, light blue eyes, and walks over to him. “Joe ...”
All of sudden, like a jumpstart to a dying heart, Joe is the one who does it. Mike’s eyes widen as Joe wraps his hands around his back, pulling him close.
“Mike ...”
And they kiss.
It’s so gentle, so sweet, so slow. Mike feels like his heart is going to split in two.
Joe’s hands slide up from Mike’s back and then travel up to caress his face.
Their kiss is long, but then after a breath, it is followed by a short kiss, making them both breathe a bit erratically.
Now their hearts are calming down, and they both feel like two teenagers for a moment, lost in each other’s embrace and first kiss.
Joe laughs. “I ... I just kissed a fuckin’ cop!”
