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The night after his father’s funeral, Ray went to a gay bar for the first time. He’d thought about it plenty before, but the closest he ever got was walking past, sneaking a glance at the line of men waiting to get in. Even that had made him paranoid; afraid his Pop would smell it on him, the same way he’d smelled the pot Joey Deluca had smoked when he’d given Ray a ride home one time. It didn’t matter that Ray hadn’t actually touched the stuff, Pop wouldn’t listen. Just kept going on about how he wouldn’t allow his son to embarrass him by becoming a pothead bum while he smacked Ray upside the head.
Hypocritical son of a bitch, Ray thought, reaching into the glove box for his father’s silver flask—his prized possession, never went anywhere without it. Until now.
“Here’s to you, Pop.” Ray unscrewed the top, wincing as he knocked it back. He’d never been much of a drinker himself, but if ever there was a night for a little liquid courage, it would be tonight. He tossed the flask back into the glovebox, then flipped down the visor, checking himself in the mirror.
He frowned. The weight of the last few months stared back at him: bruise-like circles under his eyes, a permanent five o'clock shadow, and—he ran a hand over his head—all the stress had even made his hair start to thin.
First, his marriage had imploded, leaving him moving back into the family home, tail between his legs, and a constant slump in his shoulders. Then he spent the last six months listening to his Pop waste what little breath he had left to remind Ray what a loser he turned out to be—just like he’d always said, not even man enough to keep his wife. On and on, right up until he finally choked on all that bile he was spewing.
Snapping the visor shut, he leaned back against the seat, trying to pull in a full breath. His fingers fumbled with the knot of his tie—the damn thing had felt like it was choking him all day. He glanced down at himself. Maybe he should’ve changed first. But coming here hadn’t been planned. After the wake, after his Ma finally calmed down enough to fall asleep, he’d just had to get out of the house. He got into the car and started driving without a destination in mind. He ended up outside this club. Where he’d been sitting for the last twenty minutes, working up the nerve.
He balled up the tie and tossed it in the back, then undid the top few buttons on his shirt, rolled his sleeves up to the elbow. It would have to do.
Cool night air brushed his skin as he got out of the car. The slam of the door cracked like a gunshot.
Ready. Set. Go.
A wave of humidity hit him as he walked through the door, like lifting the lid off a pot. The heat of a hundred bodies packed together, moving against each other. Soap and cologne failed to mask the scent of musk and sweat—Ray could practically taste the salt on his tongue. Strobing lights sliced through the darkness, creating sharp, frantic flashes that froze everything in stop-motion.
Music poured from the speakers, a steady synth beat, loud enough to drown out thought, hard and fast, matching his pulse. He could feel the vibrations under his feet as he edged his way through the press of bodies; all that heat closed in on him, making his skin prickle. Every time someone brushed against him, his heart jumped.
He rolled his neck. Shoulders back, chin up. Act like you own the place.
It felt like his first undercover gig all over again; that wired, sick feeling of waiting to be made. Any second now, someone would peg him as an outsider, call him out for not belonging. That had always been the fear: being found out.
But he didn't have to worry about that here.
Because here, among this crush of strangers, he wasn’t covering a damn thing. Just walking through that door had stripped him more bare than any wire search ever could. No alias, no badge, no lie to hide behind. Just the truth he’d spent his whole life ducking. The way he’d learned to duck his Pop’s fists.
He surfaced from the crowd, gripping the bar like a lifeline. His shirt was sticking to his back, his throat raw and burning from the close atmosphere. Steadying himself, he signalled to the bartender.
“What’ll it be?” he shouted over the music.
“Cranberry and club soda, wedge of lemon,” Ray said automatically. His safe drink, the one that let him keep a glass in his hand at bars and parties while keeping his head clear. But just as the guy reached for the soda gun, the words tore out of him:
“Make it a vodka cranberry instead.”
The bartender gave a quick nod, no questions asked. The glass came down, ice clinking, red liquid sloshing. Ray shoved a bill across the counter and took the drink in hand. One sip burned its way down, fire and sugar. He closed his eyes, palms flat on the bar, dragging in a breath. No fresh air, just the heady blast of man and sweat. He took another healthy gulp, then turned, elbows propped against the bar, schooling his face into something cool, detached. Lifting his glass to his lips, he took slow, lazy sips as his eyes scanned the dancefloor.
His gaze caught on a man, standing still in the writhing mass, staring straight at him. A flash of light illuminated his smiling, handsome face as he tipped his head to Ray, beckoning him. Ray’s swallow stuck in his throat; he had to force it down. He licked his lips, about to take a step forward—
The dance floor plunged into darkness.
When the lights flashed back on, the man was gone, swept away in the swirl of bodies.
Craning his head, Ray tried to find him again, but everyone blurred together in the dark pulsing crowd. He looked down at his glass, swirled the melting ice cubes in the dwindling red pool. Downing the last of it, he faced the bar again, raising his glass to ask for another. Sucking on an ice cube, he waited for his drink.
He gasped. A sudden weight on his hips. Hands, big and strong, spun him around. Eyes, clear blue even in the darkness, glinted down at him.
Ray blinked, mouth opening and closing, but no sound would come out.
The man drew him close, wordlessly dragging him into the writhing mass of the dance floor until the crowd swallowed them. Arms wrapped around him, hips guiding him to the rhythm. Ray stumbled, clumsy, moving to the beat of his own pounding heart rather than the music. No one had tried to lead him since gym class with Irene. He wasn’t used to not being in control.
Relax. Everything’s going to be okay.
He willed his body to stop fighting, to melt into the flow. Shaky hands settled on the man’s sides; heat bled through the sweat-damp shirt into his palms.
The man dipped his head, a low chuckle puffing hot against Ray’s ear. “Never seen you here before.” His voice was deep and resonant even over the skull-rattling thump of the music. “I’m Jeff.”
“I’m—” Ray’s tongue knotted; his name jammed in his throat. “Gi-Giovanni, uh, Gio,” he stammered. The first thing that popped into his head, his middle name. Still undercover after all.
“Giovanni.” He rolled the name around, playing with it, knowing smirk twitching at his lips. “Well, Gio,” his hands slid along Ray’s back, pressing him closer, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Ray’s breath hitched as Jeff’s hands roamed down. “Yeah. You t—”
Lips covered his, cutting him off. Ray tensed, fingers flexing at the other man’s hips, nails scraping across tight denim. Palms curled over Ray’s ass, hauling him close, pressing their bodies firmly together. A muffled noise escaped Ray’s throat. Finally, Ray’s mouth fell open against the warm, insistent pressure. A ready tongue slipped past his lips, bitter with the tang of alcohol.
It stroked over his own tongue, tickled the roof of his mouth, sending heat and tingles down Ray's spine.
It was no shy, polite first kiss. Nothing teasing. The mouth against his was confident and sure, letting him know exactly what he wanted.
Ray's head was spinning from the heat, that thick, heavy air. He was floating, falling. His fingers clenched tighter against Jeff’s sides, anchoring himself.
Jeff’s hips rolled against him. A telling bulge.
Ray wrenched his head back, breath ragged. Wide eyes swept the crowd—someone had to have seen. But no one was looking. Nobody cared. Everyone was lost in their own acts, their own desire. Without fear. Without shame.
That’s why Ray had come here.
Jeff tilted his head, gaze heavy-lidded, tongue dragging slowly across his lips.
Ray’s chest thumped. He fisted the back of Jeff’s neck and pulled him in. He wasn’t here to just dip his toe in. He wanted to drown.
Jeff’s mouth welcomed Ray’s tongue with a moan, sucking on it. His hands pressed against Ray’s ass, grinding into him.
Ray leaned into it, slipped his thigh between Jeff’s legs. He let his hands roam under the hem of Jeff’s shirt, feeling the sweat trickling down his back. He broke the kiss slowly this time, bottom lip caught between Jeff’s teeth as he pulled away. Panting, he rested his forehead against Jeff’s.
Jeff’s eyes fluttered open. “You taste good. Sweet. Tart.”
“It’s the cranberry juice,” Ray murmured, voice hazy
Jeff huffed, his hands squeezing Ray’s ass. “You feel good too.”
Ray arched back into his touch. “That’s all me.”
Humming, Jeff skimmed along the side of Ray’s neck. “I’d certainly like to feel more of you.”
Ray gulped. His voice came out rough, but steady enough. “You live around here?”
Jeff pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. A smile curved his lips. “Not too far.” He nipped Ray’s chin. “Want to come see?”
Ray’s chest hammered, but he forced himself to nod. “Yeah. I do.”
Ray was levitating. Jeff’s body was pressed against his, hands roaming, lips and tongue moving with Ray’s. The ground lurched suddenly beneath Ray’s feet; a ding and whoosh as the elevator doors slid open. Jeff’s fingers hooked in Ray’s belt, pulling him through and down the hall.
Feeling a little disoriented, Ray shook his head as Jeff unlocked his door. Nerves crept back in as the door closed, making him freeze when Jeff slid his arms around him.
Jeff paused, brow cocked. “Can I get you a drink?” He asked, stepping away, clicking on lights.
Ray squeezed his eyes shut. Get it together. He cleared his throat and followed Jeff into the living room. “Yeah, that’d be good.”
Jeff looked over his shoulder with a smirk. “Sorry, I don’t have any cranberry juice. What else do you like?”
“Whatever you’re having is fine.” Ray wandered over to the window.
“Gin and Tonic?”
“Sounds good.” Not that he’d ever had one.
“Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable.”
“Nice place.” Ray sat on the couch, wondering how he went from having this guy’s tongue in his mouth to making small talk. “So, what do you do?”
“Real estate.” Ice clinked as he dropped it into the glass. “You in the market?”
“Nah, I have a house.” Shit. He had a house. Pop had left it to him. He was still a little surprised about it. Guess in his ‘old-fashioned’ mind, it was better his no-good son take over the deed rather than leave it to a woman. Even if that woman had been busting her ass keeping that home for the last forty years.
Jeff carried the glasses over to the couch, handing one to Ray.
“Thanks.” Ray took a sip, careful not to wrinkle his nose at the taste. “It’s good. You grow up around here? In Chicago?”
“Manhattan.”
“Oh yeah? I’ve never been to New York.”
“Me neither.”
“Huh?”
His mouth twitched from behind his glass. “Manhattan, Kansas. It was always my plan to move to the real deal, though. Was gonna pack up right after high school and take the first bus out.”
“How’d you end up in Chicago then?”
“The ticket was cheaper.”
Ray huffed. “How long have you lived here?
“Just about fourteen years now.”
“Guess you liked it well enough then, huh?”
“This city has its charms.” Jeff’s hand landed on Ray’s knee, thumb stroking slowly. “Anything else you want to know? My favorite color is green. I’m a Scorpio. My mother’s maiden name is Phillips.”
Ray shifted, pulse kicking. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Relax. I’m kidding.” Jeff’s fingers climbed to the gap in Ray's shirt, right above his chest, brushing the hairs there. “We can talk. If that’s what you want.”
Ray’s mouth went dry. He knocked back the rest of his drink, throat burning. “Nah. I don’t want to talk.”
Jeff’s smile spread slow and easy. He took the glass from Ray’s hand, set it aside, and tugged him up off the couch.
Fingers worked at the buttons of Ray’s shirt as he was guided backwards to the bedroom. Jeff’s mouth on his the whole time. He shivered as his skin was exposed to the air. Hands ran up his chest, palms pressed flat. He grunted, bedsprings creaking as he was pushed down. Jeff’s lips moved down his neck toward his chest. Ray tipped his head back, eyes closed. Fingers at his fly, the soft clink of a belt being undone—
His father’s belt as he took it off, the way it whooshed through the air, the crack of it as it came down on his back—
Ray’s hand whipped out, grabbing Jeff’s wrist, breathing hard, sweat breaking out over his forehead.
Jeff froze and looked at Ray, head cocked, brows raised. “Look, if you’re not into this…”
“No,” Ray croaked. “I…I want to. I want this. I just…”
Sighing, Jeff slipped to lie beside Ray. “We can just…fool around a little. Or…”
Ray shook his head. He’d done fooling around. Tucked away in bathroom stalls. Quick, furtive jerk-offs with guys he couldn’t even look in the eye after. Kid stuff that didn’t count. That’s what he’d always told himself. Didn’t count. He wanted this to count. He wanted the weight of another man on top of him. Wanted to feel…
“I want you to fuck me.” The words shot out of his mouth before he could second-guess it. He bit his tongue to keep taking them back.
A sharp breath beside him, then warm air against his neck. “Are you sure?” A hand trailed down Ray’s torso, finding his fly again.
“Yeah.” His breath was shaky. “I do.” He tried to force more control into his voice. “I want it. I just…” He squeezed his eyes shut, fingers clamping at his sides.
A light touch on his thigh. “You’re going to need to relax if this is going to happen.”
Ray nodded. A tense jerk of his head up and down, not convincing.
“I’ll do my best to help.” Lips skimmed down his neck, tongue lapping, sucking gently.
Breathing in through his nose, Ray’s fingers curled into the sheets as Jeff’s fingers reached for his fly again. He didn’t stop him this time, lifted his hips as Jeff pushed down his slacks. Wet warmth engulfed a nipple, and Ray tried to focus on the jolt of pleasure it sent along his spine. Jeff cupped Ray’s crotch through his boxers, rubbing gently.
Ray gulped. It felt nice. It did. His cock twitched at the touch, but…
“Hm, doesn’t seem to be working.”
Ray’s chest jerked, shame flooding it. Heat pricked up the back of his neck as he looked down at the hand covering his still limp dick. “I…I’m sorry.” He licked his lips. “Maybe I had too much to drink, I don’t know. But it doesn’t mean… I mean you can still… I want…” He clamped his jaw shut, frustrated.
“Shh.” The mattress shifted as Jeff rearranged himself, settling down between Ray’s legs. “I’m always up for a challenge.” The words were playful, Jeff’s voice a gentle tease. Not trying to humiliate Ray, but he still felt it churn in his gut anyway.
Ray tried to breathe through the rising tide as his boxers came down. Jeff’s lips made their way along Ray’s inner thigh, his hand stroked lightly over his hip.
A sharp breath escaped Ray, his body jerking as Jeff’s hot, slick mouth wrapped around him. Ray tried to focus on the sensation, the feeling of his cock gliding to the back of Jeff’s throat, Jeff’s tongue curling around him. The noise of it was loud in Ray’s ears; the obscene wet, sucking sound. It made it all the more obvious that he wasn’t making any noise himself. Was barely breathing.
He let out a whoosh of air, pulled in a fresh gulp. Let out something like a whimper as Jeff’s fist twisted around the base of his cock, his lips sucking hard at the tip. It was working. He was hard now, but every tendon in his body was still stretched taut.
Suddenly Jeff’s mouth was gone, and he was crawling back up Ray’s body, pressing down against him, skin flushed and cock hard. Mouth going to the curve of Ray’s neck, Jeff rutted against him.
“I’m okay with this,” he said, nipping Ray’s ear. He took both of their erections in his large hand and squeezed them together. “I can finish us both off like this.”
Ray’s hips arched into the touch, but he shook his head. “No.” Stubborn. Always been too stubborn for his own good. But this he’d done before. This wasn’t what he’d come looking for. If he didn’t do it now, tonight… well, something in him feared that if he chickened out now, he’d never try again. Grabbing Jeff’s face in his hands, he leaned up and kissed him, hard and sloppy. “Fuck me.”
Jeff pushed back so that he could look down at Ray, considering him for a moment. “It’s going to hurt. If you don’t loosen up it’s going to hurt a lot.”
Ray just stared up at him, mouth set hard with determination.
Jeff clucked his tongue and rolled over, rummaging through the nightstand. Rolled back with a tube labelled Astroglide and a foil wrapped condom. He also had a small, brown vial pinched between his thumb and forefinger.
Ray swallowed. “What’s that?” He wasn’t stupid. Had seen the stuff plenty of times before during arrests and busts.
“We’re really not going to get anywhere if you don’t relax,” Jeff said. He held up the vial. “This will help with that.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Wish I’d had it my first time, but all I got was clumsy sausage fingers covered in Crisco and a guy who didn’t give a fuck about my comfort as long as he…”
Ray winced
Jeff shook his head, a wry slant to his lips. “Bottom line, I’m not into causing pain. Call me square but…” He shrugged.
Licking his lips, heart banging in his chest, Ray pushed himself up, nodding toward the vial. Jeff leaned over, bringing it to Ray’s nose. He uncapped it, using his thumb to press one of Ray’s nostrils closed. “Careful. Just a sniff.”
A burning sting filled Ray’s nostrils; pressure built behind his eyes, something fizzy in his brain. Scalp tingling, head spinning, a flush of heat rolled down his neck, through his muscles; he felt like he was dunked in a warm bath without getting wet.
“Good,” Jeff murmured, hand kneading Ray’s shoulder. “Roll over.”
Ray’s body was pliant as Jeff’s hands helped maneuver him onto his stomach, lifting his hips into the air. A pillow was wedged beneath him. He heard a pop that he thought in his head at first, but then he felt slick, probing fingers parting his ass cheeks. Light kisses were pressed over the back of his neck and shoulders.
“Just breathe,” Jeff whispered.
Ray did. He gasped as the tip of Jeff’s finger stroked at his entrance. He pushed the air from his lungs, fingers fisting in the sheets, forehead pressing to the mattress.
“Keep breathing.” Jeff’s finger pushed in, slow, eased out.
Ray bit his lip at the odd sensation. Not quite pain, not exactly not painful either. He was just getting used to it when Jeff eased his fingers out, leaving Ray feeling exposed somehow, open. Then the blunt head of Jeff’s cock nudged against him, and Ray’s chest jerked. He looked over his shoulder.
“Ready?”
Ray nodded, turned his head away.
His breath left him in a ragged gust as Jeff pushed in, kept going until Ray was overwhelmed by the uncomfortable, too full sensation.
Jeff moaned behind him, dragging a hand along Ray’s back before gripping his hips. “Okay?”
Ray grunted a yes, head bobbing.
“Just keep breathing.”
The rhythm Jeff set was gentle and slow, letting Ray adapt to that fullness. The discomfort began to ease a bit, and eventually Ray felt a flicker of something like pleasure.
Jeff’s hips sped up a bit, he curled over Ray’s back, breathing hot in his ear, voice strained. “Still good?”
“Yeah,” Ray groaned.
A hand slid beneath him, curling around his cock. It had gone soft again, but swelled in response to the touch. Ray allowed himself to moan, back arching. The hands on his hips tightened, the pressure of teeth against his shoulder.
“Yeah. That’s good,” Jeff grunted, thrusting faster before his hips began to stutter.
His hand left Ray’s cock, squeezing tight around his hip again. He groaned, loud and deep as his body tensed. “Fuck.”
Ray let out a soft grunt of his own as Jeff toppled onto him. Heavy, boneless and panting. After a moment, he gave Ray a pat on the hip, slowly pulling out.
Ray gasped at the gaping open feeling.
Rolling onto his back, he watched Jeff tie off the filled condom and toss in the bin. He blinked up at the ceiling.
“Oh, shit,” Jeff muttered, still a little breathless. “Here.”
He pressed up to Ray’s side, hand wrapping around him again.
“Oh. Ah!” Ray had almost forgotten about his own release. Biting his lip, he closed his eyes, head falling back as Jeff’s perfunctory hand glided along his shaft, twisting and squeezing in just the right way until Ray was spilling over his fingers. Ray came with a soft grunt, curling over onto his side.
Jeff scooted away, coming back a few seconds later to hold out a box of tissues to Ray.
“Thanks.” Ray pulled out a few, wiped himself off.
“You good?”
“Yeah. Good.” Ray leaned over and discarded the messy tissues.
“You smoke?”
“No.”
“You mind?”
“Nah. Go ahead.” His back was still to Jeff, listening to the flick of a lighter, grimacing as the acrid scent of smoke met his nose.
A gentle nudge against his back, Jeff’s foot. “It gets easier. Better.”
Ray swallowed. “Yeah.”
The streetlights were still on as Ray traversed the few blocks back to where his car was parked, but the light blue of morning was brightening in the sky. The street was quiet now. Empty but for a few fellow stragglers. Ray kept his head down, trying not to meet anyone’s eye. Eyes that would tell him they knew what he’d been up to. Knew what he was now.
He poured himself into the Riv, slamming the door and taking a breath. He leaned back against the headrest, eyes closing. He felt a little sore, shifting in his seat. It wasn’t bad. The ache of a muscle that hadn’t been worked out in too long. Or ever. The feeling was almost a relief. Like–
Ray jumped as he opened his eyes, meeting a familiar gaze in the rearview mirror. His father’s lip curled in a sneer from the backseat, eyes dark with disappointment and disgust.
“I always knew you were…” He snorted an ugly laugh. “At least I’m dead now. Don’t have to bear the shame.” He shook his head. “But your poor mother.”
Ray sucked in a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes closed again. He slumped forward, head pressing to the steering wheel, arms wrapping around himself. For the first time since he watched his father take his last breath, Ray began to cry.