Chapter Text
C
Callum’s heard of the Mitchells. Anyone who’s anyone in East London has heard of the Mitchell’s, never mind a police officer. Murder. Arson. Blackmail. Dodgy business deals. He wonders how any of them still walk the streets.
‘This is gonna be a nightmare,’ Officer Dean moans as they approach the family’s Walford residence. ‘Hope you’ve done your stretches,’ she says before knocking the front door.
‘I doubt he’ll do a runner.’ The door swings open to a stern-looking blonde woman who sighs at the sight of them.
‘What’s he done now?’ she rolls her eyes. ‘Phil!’ she screams without waiting for an answer, and Callum winces.
Several people, including the man in question, appear from different doors down the hallway. Callum’s eyes land on a handsome bloke standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
‘Actually, we’re not here for your husband, Mrs. Mitchell,’ Officer Dean began.
*
Ben does a runner.
Officer Dean takes off after him through the house without a second of hesitation. ‘Go ‘round the front!’ she yells. Callum blinks after her.
‘Giving him a head start?’ Phil chuckles, seemingly amused by the whole situation. His eyes widen as he snaps out of it, breaking into a sprint around the front of the house. He rounds the corner as Ben hits the ground running over the back wall.
He makes a dash through the center of the square and through a market busy with people. Callum apologises profusely as he nudges, barely avoids and shoves shoppers in his haste to catch up.
Ben looks at him over his shoulder and cackles. ‘Keep up!’ he heckles, turning a corner with a smirk.
‘Run, Forest, run!’ a random man yells at him as he passes through. He rounds the corner and almost trips over his feet as he comes to a sudden stop. Ben leans against a wall by an alley, a shit-eating grin on his face while Callum is unable to do anything but stare at him, confused.
‘Can’t be bothered, it turns out,’ Ben breathes. ‘Been a while since my last Pilates class. Besides, I was starting to feel bad, you’d have never caught me,’ he smirks.
‘I- I’m in pretty good shape thanks,’ Callum remarks, forgetting himself.
‘I can see that,’ Ben remarks, giving him a once-over. Callum stammers for a response as Whitney rounds the corner and bumps into him.
‘Ben Mitchell,’ she gasps, ‘you’re under arrest on the suspicion of murder.’ Ben’s brow furrows, the smirk falling from his lips.
Callum cuffs him while Whitney does the talking. ‘Tighter,’ Ben whispers when Callum winds the cuffs around his wrists. If Callum’s face goes red, well at least Ben’s got his back turned to him.
*
‘They normally can’t shut you up,’ Officer Dean comments on Ben’s silent form. He tilts his head at her from across the table. Callum sits awkwardly beside her, tapping a pen on the table. Ben looks at the pen and then to his face.
‘I use my mouth selectively.’ He makes direct eye contact when he says it and oh God Callum is sweating. He takes a long sip of his water.
‘Just tell us where you were last night,’ he says, and hopes the waver in his voice wasn’t as obvious to everyone else as it was to him. Ben’s eyes don’t look away.
‘Was having sex.’
Jesus, Callum thinks.
‘Who with? What time? Where?’ Whitney asks, unfazed.
‘Some bloke,’ he answers. ‘That a crime?’
‘We found a Grindr conversation on the victim’s phone that shows us he had plans to meet you.’ She holds up a screenshot of the conversation. Ben looks at it, but his poker face remains the same. They all know it ain’t his first time at the rodeo. ‘This the bloke?’
‘No,’ he answers. ‘Chap didn’t turn up. Guess we know why now.’
‘This other bloke got a name?’
‘Didn’t ask. I’d be happy to show you our conversation history. Must warn you, though, it ain’t exactly PG,’ he smiles. Callum shuffles some papers to avoid Ben’s eyes.
*
‘This still doesn’t clear your name,’ Whit tells him, once they’ve seen the messages. There were pictures, thankfully none of Ben, Callum might have spontaneously combusted.
‘How about we send him a message? Maybe I can persuade him to come in and help us out.’
‘You can try,’ Whitney says.
‘Oh, trust me,’ Ben says, and once again meets Callum’s gaze. ‘I can be very persuasive.’
*
He replies to Ben’s message almost immediately.
‘Ugh, keen,’ Ben comments to himself, face repulsed. ‘He’s coming.’
The guy does come. Tanned, muscled and with a stubbled, sharp jaw. Not who Callum thought would be Ben’s type, although Callum reminds himself he doesn’t know Ben outside of his criminal profile. Andrew, he says his name is, verifies Ben’s story.
It wasn’t romantic.
They release Ben, who saunters out of the station with the boy in tow. Callum watches him as he leaves, but not before he glances over his shoulder and sends a wink Callum’s way.
Just like that, Ben’s gone. The case consumes most of Callum’s day and he doesn’t get home until after midnight. He’s exhausted, calves sore from the running earlier, and yeah maybe he could be in better shape after all. He ignores his dinner in the fridge, takes a shower and it’s only when he’s settled in bed reflecting on his day that he’s reminded of the smirk.
Ben fucking Mitchell.
He tries to push any thoughts away, can’t help himself than to think of the way Ben’s body pressed into him as he cuffed him. He reaches down and touches himself. Remembers the way Ben smirked as the cuffs were slapped onto him, the way he seemed to enjoy it.
Tighter.
He pictures Ben, naked except for those handcuffs, and everything he wanted to do to his lean body.
Tighter. Tigh-
Callum finishes, cleans himself up, and finally manages to get some sleep.
*
A week and a half passes, and Callum has no time to spare a second thought to the events of that particular arrest. Another body turned up, found across the river, which not only kept him busy in work and but kept him awake most nights. It wasn’t pretty.
They make him a fake Grindr account at the station, an idea that took a lot of convincing. They had hoped to find something suspicious but it turned out unfruitful. Whitney thinks he could use it to unwind after work. He doesn’t entertain the idea. He hadn’t thought twice about it until he was relaxing in front of the TV with a beer when his phone pinged. He squints at the message.
so when are you blowing me? x
‘Classy,’ Callum sighs in disgust, almost dismisses the message entirely when he reads the username. Big_Ben96. Ben Mitchell’s username, if he recalls correctly.
His heartbeat skyrockets as he taps onto Ben’s account. There’s pictures. The first one is a selfie, a smirk on his lips, eyes piercing. He looks good. The second is one of Ben laughing, a side-profile taken by someone else in a pub. The third is Ben’s-
Callum almost drops the phone. He locks it hastily, a wave of guilt washing over him as if he’s invaded Ben’s privacy somehow. He blows out a long breath. He just saw Ben Mitchell’s penis. The phone buzzes again. He hesitates before looking.
could always blow you x
A new message.
Officer Highway
Callum sucks in a harsh breath and leaves the phone face-down on the coffee table. He needs a shower. And a stronger drink.
*
He ignores the messages. Ben doesn’t message again. He’s partly disappointed and partly relieved. Ben Mitchell isn’t the type of hook-up he’s looking for. Hell, he’s not even looking for hook-ups. He deletes the app from his phone but he thinks the mental image of Ben Mitchell’s penis might be forever ingrained in his brain.
*
‘Any tea?’ Whitney sighs as she joins him at his desk. He doesn’t look up from his paperwork.
‘Just of the drinking variety,’ he answers.
‘Boring, but that’ll do,’ she says, and lifts his mug for a sip. There’s a beat of silence. He closes his notebook with a grin.
‘Go on then,’ he rolls his eyes. ‘You’re waiting for me to ask.’ She considers him for a moment before her face breaks out in a beaming smile. She holds up her phone, giving Callum an eyeful of a man in a suit.
‘Name’s Leo. Cute, ain’t he?’ she smiles. Callum shrugs, too clean cut for his own type, but Whitney doesn’t seem to pick up on his lack of enthusiasm. ‘And he’s a lawyer.’
‘Oh, gonna be a right crimefighting duo, aren’t you?’ She tilts her head at him.
‘Don’t worry, Cal, you’ll always be my Watson.’ His mouth drops open in fake outrage.
‘Why am I Watson?’ he balks.
‘Could always be my Robin.’ He scowls at her as she walks away. ‘To the Batmobile,’ she announces. He sighs and grabs his coat.
*
‘What about you?’ Whitney asks later, blowing on a cup of coffee. Callum looks at her with questioningly raised eyebrows. ‘Any boys catching your eye lately?’ An image of Ben’s penis flashes in his mind.
‘Nah,’ he answers, dipping his gaze.
‘Oh, there is,’ she sings. ‘Who is it? Dave on reception?’ He squints at her.
‘Dave on reception? No,’ he scoffs.
‘Dave’s nice, why not’ she asks, seemingly offended.
‘Don’t mix work and pleasure,’ he answers. Dave was nice, and Callum didn’t realise he was even into lads, but Dave was just Dave. ‘No time for boys, anyway,’ he says. Whitney gives him an oh, come on look but he’s saved from an earful when a call comes through on the radio.
*
Callum is tense when they pull up outside Square Dealz. Ben Mitchell is standing in the lot outside, talking to a punter, when he catches sight of their car over the man’s shoulder. His salesman face falters for a brief moment before he plasters a smile back on. They talk for another minute before Ben shakes the man’s hand and they part.
‘Another day, another Mitchell,’ Whitney sighs as she exits the car. Callum follows suit.
‘Afternoon, Officers,’ Ben greets. ‘You lookin’ for a new model?’ he asks, gesturing towards the row of cars lined up along the lot. He eyes Callum up and down. ‘Be happy to take you ‘round the back…’ Callum bites his gum as Ben meets his eyes. ‘If there’s nothing here you fancy.’ Ben looks to Whitney with a grin. Callum feels his ears go pink.
‘Just here for a chat,’ Whitney answers.
‘A social call,’ he claps his hands, rubbing them together. ‘I’ll stick the kettle on, shall I?’
*
‘So, how’re things since we last caught up?’ Ben asks like they’re old friends, setting the tray down on his desk. He hands Whitney a tea which she accepts with a wry look on her face. Callum accepts his mug with a small thanks, not meeting the man’s eyes. He can’t stop thinking about it. The penis. His dick twitches and he feels his face redden.
‘Mr. Mitchell-’
‘Is my dad. The rest of my friends call me Ben,’ he smirks.
‘Ben,’ Whitney starts again. ‘Andrew McLaughlin has been murdered.’ Ben blinks at her.
‘Who?’
Whitney sighs. ‘Your alibi for your last arrest. His body was just discovered next to the Thames this morning.’ Ben looks at her for another moment.
‘Andrew,’ he repeats. ‘Andrew? ‘Oh!’ he says, realization dawning on his face. ‘Yeah, I remember him. Why are you telling me?’
‘We believe we have a serial killer on our hands. Someone targeting individuals using Grindr. We’d like to know if you have any information you might be able to share with us, given your connection to two of our victims.’
‘Sorry, Officer Dean, we didn’t really get to chatting while I had his-’
‘Please,’ Callum interrupts. Ben pauses, lips parted. Callum swallows. ‘Let’s leave the gory details out of it, for the sake of a dead man.’ Ben sighs with a face that said fine and closes his eyes.
‘Was ghosted the other day,’ he says, opening his eyes and looking at Callum, who’s eyes widen. ‘So, I text him instead to ask if he was free.’ He turns his gaze to Whitney. ‘He declined. Not a good day for the ego, I’ll admit, but he had plans already.’
‘Did he say where? Or who with?’
Ben considers her. ‘Said something about a group thing.’ Ben raises his hands with a look of disdain. ‘No thanks.’
‘Is there anything else?’ Whitney asks.
‘Don’t think so, no,’ Ben answers. Whitney takes a long gulp of her tea and leaves the mug down.
‘Well, thank you for your co-operation, Mr. M- Ben.’ Ben nods, still smirking.
‘I’m going to leave my number here,’ Callum says, placing a card on the desk. A grin spreads across Ben’s face. ‘In case there’s anything you might remember later.’ He somehow manages to keep his voice even.
‘Will I actually get a response?’ Ben mutters.
‘Sorry?’ Whitney asks.
‘Nothing,’ Ben exhales as they all stand. ‘I’ll definitely make use of it, should the opportunity arise,’ he says, pocketing the card. Callum clears his throat, face heating up under Ben’s gaze.
‘Well, have a nice day, Ben,’ she says and makes her way towards the door.
‘Thanks for the tea,’ Callum says, finally meeting Ben’s eyes. He nods simply, holding Callum’s stare. Callum looks away, feeling awkward, and makes for the door, Whitney having already left the building.
‘Also,’ Callum stops, turning back to Ben. Ben glances up at him from where he’s sat back down at his desk. ‘Be careful out there, yeah?’
Ben tilts his head at him and the smirk returns. ‘What’s it to you?’ he asks. Callum shakes his head, embarrassed, and dips his gaze to the floor before quickly turning to leave, unsure as to why he opened his mouth in the first place.
*
It’s 8am and Callum’s just coming off the night shift when he steps into the station carpark and bumps into someone. ‘Oi! Watch where you’re going,’ the familiar voice shouts. Ben turns, looking worse for wear. His face is hard and bruised, although it smoothens out a fraction.
‘Officer Highway,’ he greets, eyes squinting. ‘Fancy seeing you here. You following me or something?’
‘Could have asked you the same thing,’ Callum answers, surprising himself.
Ben scoffs, looking away. ‘You ain’t worth a night in a cell, trust me.’
‘And what is worth it?’ Callum asks, gesturing to the large bruise on his cheek. Ben meets his eyes, his gaze heavy, looking taken aback by the question. The patented smirk spreads across his face, breaking the tension.
‘You worried about me, Officer Highway?’
‘No,’ Callum lies.
‘I do hope you’re better at catching lies than you are telling them,’ he says, holding his stare. Callum blushes before looking away.
‘Best get on, I’m back here in twelve hours.’
‘Until next time,’ Ben nods. Callum chuckles despite himself. ‘I’ll text you,’ Ben says with a wink, and before Callum can protest, Ben is sauntering away. Callum sighs, not entirely convinced by his own annoyance.