From Dylan’s POV

My hands were tapping on the bar.

“Stop that,” Jeff said, reading his phone.

I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.

“I said stop.”

I switched to chewing my nails.

Jeff finally looked up from his phone.

“Jesus Christ, Dylan.”

“What?”

“You look like you have twenty minutes to stop a bomb from going off.”

“I’m fine.”

“If you say so.”

He set his phone down on the bar.

“Do you need a drink?”

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

He just stared at me. I couldn’t tell if the beating running through me was the bass from the DJ or from my own chest.

“So when was the last time you saw him?”

My fingers stopped tapping.

“Last Friday.”

His eyebrow raised.

“What? It’s not been that long.”

“You sure? You’ve looked at the door six times.”

I have not.

“If you say so.”

With that, Jeff went back to reading his phone and I started tapping the bar again.

His hand grabbed mine without looking up.

“Sorry,” I said.

“Boys, should I wear the red Blanche Devereaux number or the black Donna Summers?” Pink asked, coming in from the other side of the bar.

“Neither,” Jeff and I said at the same time.

Pinky just stared at us.

“What would you two heathens know about art?”

“Dylan, are you good for helping with the food drive Sunday?”

I was staring at the door again. Damn it, Jeff was right.

“Dylan.”

“What?”

“The fundraiser for homeless gays. You still in?”

“Yeah, sorry, Pink. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“That’s my sunshine,” she said, giving me a hug.

“Wait.” She paused. “Why is our Dylan wearing his best t-shirt?”

I should have picked another place to meet him.

“Ask him who he’s waiting for.”

Pinky’s mouth slowly fell open.

“No.”

“Pink.”

“NO.”

“Pink.”

“Oh, our gods in Heaven and the baby Jesus, it is a miracle!”

“Stop it, Pink.”

“Though he had walked through the valley of dick and buttholes...”

“That’s it, I’m leaving.”

Pinky sat me back down on my stool.

Sit.

I checked the door again.

Jeff sighed.

“Seven.”

Pinky stared at me.

Then she pulled out her phone.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I need a picture.”

“No.” I tried to protest but almost laughed.

“For the archives.”

“No.”

“The younger generation will never believe this happened,” she said.

“Pinky.”

“Dylan voluntarily agreed to spend time with another human being. Twice. In a year.”

Jeff nodded.

“Should be in a museum,” he said, still scrolling on his phone.

“I’m surrounded by idiots,” I said, resting my head on the bar.

I could feel Pinky rubbing my back. Then Tony yelled from the door.

“HE’S HERE!”

The entire bar turned and looked at me.

“Don’t,” I said, raising a finger.

“I didn’t say anything,” Tony said.

“Tony.”

“I said two words.”

With that, the door opened and everyone quickly went back to pretending to be busy with something else. I got up faster than expected, almost knocking over my stool in my awkwardness.

I walked over quickly to meet him. His hair was messy. Just the way it always looked.

Our eyes met.

The smile hit his face immediately.

“Hi.”

I laughed.

“Hi.”

“I’ve been here six seconds.”

“And?”

“They’re already staring at me.”

“I think you’re overthinking it.” I glanced behind me, catching everyone pretending to be busy.

I placed my hand on the small of his back and guided him to the side of the bar and to safety.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You wore the good shirt.”

“I’m going home,” I said.

He grabbed my hand, holding me back. He squeezed it slightly as he turned to face me.

“You got here okay?”

“Oh yeah, driving doesn’t take as much time as the bus.”

“Did you get your mom’s birthday gift?”

“I got her the teddy bear.”

“Not the necklace?”

“No. I changed my mind after I saw it.”

I just smiled at him.

Then he smiled back.

“So are you ready to get out of here?”

“I just got here.”

“I know.”

Jace smiled.

“Give me ten minutes.”

“Ten?”

“I drove three hours.”

“Two and a half.”

“Still.”

“Fine.”

“Then we can go.”

I hated how fast that made me smile.

“Take your time, boys!” I heard Pinky yell from across the bar.

Christ, I need to get new friends.

“Come on,” I said, grabbing his hand.

“Where are we going?” he said, laughing.

“You’ll see.”

I led him out the door. Looking around, I could see everyone watching, almost as invested as I was.

To them it was entertainment.

Pinky would have enough material to torment me for months.

Jeff would pretend he wasn’t invested.

Tony would absolutely make things worse.

I didn’t care.

To me, it was the first thing I’d looked forward to in a long time.

I could feel my throat dry up as I moved him to the side of the building and stared at him.

“Where are we going?” he said with his sweet, innocent smile.

I didn’t answer. I just grabbed him by the waist and pressed his back against the red brick of the building, kissing him gently at first, then deepening the kiss as I remembered how good he smelled.

I had waited all week to do this again. Not just a peck at his hotel’s front door.

Looking around, he pushed me back halfheartedly.

“Dylan. Not here,” he laughed. “Save some for later.”

“Not too much later, I hope.”

I could feel him slap me in the stomach.

“Okay, so where are we going?”

“What do you mean—”

“Well, I was thinking,” he said, walking away. “We could go to the zoo. It’s not too far from here and could be fun.”

“But—” I said, chasing after him.

“Or we could go to the art museum. They have a Degas painting I’ve wanted to check out.”

“Wait.”

He turned around, kissed me, and pulled me into him.

“I’m kidding. Let’s go back to my hotel and do what we talked about,” he said, glancing around.

I breathed a sigh of relief. God, he was worth the torture.

He took my hand and squeezed it.

Neither of us said much after that.

We didn’t need to.

We just walked together toward his hotel.

When we got into his room, everything that had been easy on the walk became awkward and tense.

I tried to place my wallet on the dresser. It fell off.

I tripped on my own shoes after taking them off.

Why was I acting this way? This wasn’t me. I’d done this dozens and dozens of times.

Just standing in front of some boy I’d talked to for two weeks. Feeling silly and awkward.

And happy.

“Are you okay?” Jace said, just holding my hands.

I must have had a confused look. How could he read my mind like that? After two weeks?

“Yeah.”

“Then why are you shaking?”

I looked down and he was right. Again. My hand was trembling.

I was trembling.

“We don’t have to—”

I kissed him. Nothing passionate. Just a kiss on the lips, partly to shut him up but mostly to turn off everything in my head.

It was like last weekend. When we’d hung out and gone for one of our walks, this time down the trail by the lake. We’d barely touched hands for most of it, our fingers doing that thing where they kept bumping each other like they knew before we did. In between conversations about his family. Me sharing my favorite memories of Lisa. Him planning out our next phone session.

Then we’d stood on the doorstep to his apartment and I’d given him a quick peck. Not sure how he would react or if I’d ruined everything. In that moment, I didn’t care. His lips, which I’d been staring at while he talked about his friends in Peoria. What chores he’d done that morning.

They were like an obsession.

So here I was, alone with him in his room. Him smelling like Nautica Voyage cologne he’d gotten from his grandmother last Christmas and liked to wear on special occasions.

The one he’d worn when we first met.

“You smell nice.”

Jace laughed.

“You said that last time.”

“Still true,” I said, kissing him again.

He just smiled at me. My hands holding his. Just kissing each other soft and sweet. Losing track of time.

“Dylan,” he said, looking up at me.

“I want to do this.”

I could feel myself smile, blush, and relax all at once.

“Me too,” I said as his hands led me to the bed, sitting at the edge.

“Do you mind—” I started, then paused. “Do you mind if we take it slow?”

He smiled.

“I thought we had been taking it slow, considering we met at a bathhouse.” My hand grabbed the back of his head, pulling him into a deep kiss. The firmness of his kiss and the softness of him were a paradox I needed more of. He was so inexperienced in many ways, but his kiss turned me on more than anything I had experienced.

“Shut up,” I said, breaking away and giving him a teasing smile.

“Dylan. Wait.”

I looked up. Was he going to stop? Say this would be our last time hanging out?

“I got you something.”

Jace got up and I watched as he walked over to his bag. His cute butt filling out his shorts in a way I hadn’t fully noticed before.

“It’s probably stupid, but I made this.”

He handed me a present wrapped in red paper. Neatly wrapped in my favorite color.

“What is this? It’s not my birthday.”

“I know.”

I started opening it carefully, gently working open the side of the package. Not wanting to break it.

“Do you want to spend all night opening that, or...”

I tore into the present.

Inside was a picture frame. In it, there was a photo he’d printed out of his and my friends at Lucky’s at Pride. A picture of me smoking and relaxing on the patio. A receipt from the coffee shop with a little coffee stain. A flyer from the parade.

And... I rolled my eyes as I saw it.

A receipt from the bathhouse.

I held this gift with more care than if he’d given me a Rolex. No one had ever... the thought trailed off in my mind.

I looked over at Jace.

“Do you like it?”

“I...”

He looked like he expected me to say something snarky.

I just stared at him, speechless. My eyes getting a little wet.

I looked into his eyes. They were brown. I knew that. But for the first time I could see gold flakes around the iris, reflecting the light of the bedside lamp. They just sparkled. How had I not seen that before?

“Jace...”

“So you like it?”

I laughed.

Then my eyes started burning.

“You kept the bathhouse receipt?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You knew that already.”

I moved forward, kissing him. Deep and hard. My tongue sliding between his lips for the first time. Tasting the mix of the spearmint gum he liked so much and him.

His kiss had a way of shutting off the noise in my head.

For a few seconds, there was only this beautiful boy and his amazing gift.

I got up, placed the present on the desk, and came back to the room before crawling back into bed. Resting his head onto the pillow. Have you ever had one of those kisses that you just lose yourself in? We could have made out for twenty minutes or two hours. I just knew I wanted to enjoy it. This was the act that mattered most tonight.

“Dylan, I haven’t seen you naked,” he said, looking straight at me.

“I sent you that one pic this week.”

“Text pics don’t count.”

I smiled at him and got up.

Slowly standing before him in a room lit only by the late evening dusk, I raised my shirt over my head. I felt self-conscious, like a hundred people were watching.

“I like your nipples.”

“What?”

He immediately looked embarrassed.

“I don’t know. I just do.”

I just laughed. So freaking adorable.

When I unbuckled my belt, the room got more silent. The air conditioner, which had been roaring as a background track for the last hour, was nowhere to be found. I could hear Jace swallow.

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I lowered my shorts to the ground, standing only in my black briefs. Knowing Jace was cataloging every square inch of my body.

My hands slowly went to the waistband and tugged.

“No.”

I froze. Did I do something wrong?

“Not yet.”

I released a huge sigh before sliding into bed.

“Are you—” I started, looking at Jace.

“Always in such a rush,” he said teasingly.

“It’s only fair.”

“Who said anything about being fair?” he said, pushing me onto my back and straddling me as he leaned forward to kiss me, still wearing his clothes.

He moved down my neck, giving me small, light kisses before his tongue landed on my chest. Exploring my left nipple. Circling it several times. Grabbing it. Then kissing it.

His right hand tweaked the other one gently, causing me to let out a small moan.

I could feel myself pressing against the cotton of my briefs as I grew to full attention under his touch. His hands, smaller but with a slight roughness to them, felt amazing as he stopped kissing and let two fingers coast down the side of my body. Barely touching, but causing every hair on my body to stand on end.

God, I wasn’t sure how I would survive him tonight.

His mouth kissed my belly button, causing my hips to thrust up. A moan escaped my lips.

I heard him laugh to himself.

“What?”

“Your body is so sensitive. It’s hot.”

I pushed my head back, letting him explore my body more with his mouth. Never going further down.

Then he stopped. I didn’t want him to stop.

He moved on top of me, straddling me. I tried as hard as I could to fight the urge to thrust up against his ass. His cute, round ass that was now burned into my psyche.

“You are beautiful,” he said with no agenda.

I just stopped. Looking at those brown eyes. His smile causing me to smile.

My blush causing him to blush.

Without breaking eye contact, he raised up, lifting his shirt. It felt like it took a thousand years for that shirt to leave his body. From the small showing of his happy trail that drove me insane. To that freckle on his right nipple I’d just discovered.

When he lifted the shirt, it was the first time I’d seen him since the bathhouse. His body firm from all those years on the track team. Maybe a tad softer since he’d torn his ACL and stopped running, but firm. Sexy. Mine for the evening.

He moved to the side, lowering his shorts until he matched me in just his underwear. His legs were even more tanned than Pride weekend had left them. His brown leg hair looking hot as hell.

My hands immediately touched them. Fighting the urge to go further and rush this, but so wanting to.

This time I laughed.

Jace looked up at me with that curious stare I’d gotten used to.

“You look like you’re about to eat me.”

“I’m trying not to.”

“Dylan. I... I want you to.”

I pulled him back on top of me before rolling around and ending up on top of him. Kissing him.

His nose to my nose.

Chest to chest.

Crotch to crotch.

And our legs completely intertwined.

“My turn,” I said, moving on top of him. My hands got lost running through his dark brown hair. It was soft but firm with the product he put in it. Sea salt spray and molding clay, I think he’d said.

I took the pad of my finger and ran it across the top of his nose, then kissed his mouth one last time before making my way to his ear.

My tongue went along the outer edge. Taking my time to make my way around the outermost circle. Then moving in and covering the underside.

“Ohh.” A surprised moan escaped Jace’s lips.

If he liked that...

I took his earlobe, kissed it softly, then let it slip into my mouth. Running my tongue over it. Then starting to gently suck on it.

“Dylan... oh.”

Wait for it, Jace.

Then I dove my tongue into his ear, filling it with my warm, wet tongue. Swirling it around slow and with intention.

His head pushed into the pillow as his hand gripped my back.

As I worked his ear, I could see his body being as blunt and honest as his mouth, offering his neck to me.

Between its surrender and the scent of his body, I lost control. If only for a moment, as my tongue traced down the muscle of his neck, then devoured his exposed skin. Kissing it. Sucking it. Tasting his flesh like a man possessed.

“Oh, Dylan... fuck,” he said, his body convulsing in pleasure before going still.

“You okay?” I said, looking at him and catching my breath.

“Don’t... don’t you ever stop doing that again,” he said before pulling me back to his neck.

I didn’t give him what he wanted though. I took my tongue and grazed it down his neck again, feeling every goosebump try to be a roadblock between me and the rest of his body.

His skin had that hint of salt, covered by something sweet, like caramel and cinnamon.

My tongue traveled down his chest just like one of our long walks. Enjoying the moment. The way it made his right leg bend upward. Each moan a new memory. I knew I wasn’t his first, but I wanted to be the one he remembered when he went back home after the weekend was over.

I could see his head pulled back and his mouth open as he moaned softly. Then louder.

“Dylan...” His hands pulled me off of him briefly so he could catch his breath, unable to take the pleasure my tongue was starting to apply as it snaked down his body.

Inch.

By inch.

Until I got to his waistband. I wasn’t going to stop. I wanted to taste him.

All of him.

As I lifted the band of his underwear, I heard Jace laugh. Not softly.

Not quietly.

Full-on laughter, followed by a snort.

“Dylan, that tickles!”

I froze, looking at him. I was barely touching him.

He couldn’t stop laughing.

“Stop,” he said again, still laughing. He does this when he’s nervous.

I leaned in and kissed him to calm him down.

“Jace. Relax. I’ll be with you the entire time.”

He just nodded.

I removed his briefs, sliding them down his thighs, revealing his cock. It was longer than I’d expected. Thinner, with a slight bend. Perfect imperfection.

I could feel my mouth water as I slid the underwear off his legs.

Taking the tip of my tongue, I started at the top of his cock and let it tease and encircle him as I made my way slowly to the base.

“I need you to put it in before I lose it, Dylan.”

“I know,” I said before engulfing the head with my mouth. Making sure to move slowly down his shaft. As slow as I possibly could, my warm mouth gradually surrounding him until I’d taken him all the way down.

His hand rested on top of my head, messing up every hair I’d carefully styled a couple of hours before.

I could feel him trying to decide what to do. Whether to pull my hair. Push my head down.

Instead, he just stroked my hair, slow, as I started working my way down his cock. As my nose pressed into his pubic bone.

I could smell the hotel soap and a hint of the deodorant he must have applied nearby. He smelled like hotel soap and whatever detergent his mom used at home. I found myself smiling into his skin.

I moved deeper and faster, taking him all the way back into my throat, then sliding out to the very tip and back down again.

I looked up, watching Jace’s body twist and turn under my touch. His lips doing this cute quivering thing each time I slid my tongue over the flesh connecting the head to the shaft.

“Roll over,” I said, looking up at him. His cock inches from my face.

He rolled over on the bed, landing in almost the exact same spot. Almost kicking my head in the process.

I bit into the bed to keep from laughing out loud.

“What?” he said.

“On to your stomach, you goof.”

“Oh. Ohhhhhh,” he said, smiling but also looking a little nervous.

Seeing his ass, I nearly lost it right there.

I had seen a lot of ass. I mean that as honestly as it sounds. People say a picture doesn’t do something justice, but this was unreal. I wanted to feast on it for hours.

That was exactly what I was going to do.

Spreading his cheeks, I couldn’t take this part slow. I wanted to dive in deep, losing a bit of control.

“Dylan... whoa... mama...” he said as I pushed my tongue deep inside him.

He was grabbing onto the pillow. His ridiculous Pokémon watch staring back at me — the one his best friend had bought him last week, he’d told me.

I moved my tongue inside and out, then side to side. He tasted sweet. Still innocent. Tight.

We needed to change that tonight, I thought, before spreading his cheeks and sliding as deep as my tongue would allow. Just letting it dance and drive him wild.

I could see his leg push back. His toes curling underneath.

Just the sight of him exposed. Wet. Drove me to a breaking point I hadn’t felt since... since ever.

The sun had disappeared by the time I moved up his back. My tongue following his spine as I traveled up to his neck until I was lying on top of him. My cock resting in the valley between his cheeks.

Under my weight, his body started pushing back up against me. He might look innocent, but his movements, his words, our conversations — they told another story.

My head started to press against his entrance at his direction. Pushing just the tip in, loosened by my tongue.

“Hey, Jace.”

“Hmm?” he said, his mind focused on one part of his body.

“Did you bring lube?”

“Oh. Yeah, it’s in my black backpack on the chair,” he said, resting his chin on his hands.

I went to his bag and opened it. I saw his laptop. A spare change of clothes.

“The other pocket.”

Opening the pocket, there was lube. Lots of it. Astroglide. Überlube. ID Water Based. ID Silicone Based. Seven different brands of lube.

“Umm, Jace.”

“Yeah?”

“What’s with all the lube?”

“Remember that time at 2 a.m. when we talked about which lube we should use?”

“Yeah?”

“You said to bring them all so we could do a test on each one.”

I had said that jokingly. I wasn’t serious.

“Jace.”

“Yeah?”

“Never mind.”

As I went back to him, he wiggled his ass at me, knowing exactly what he was doing.

I grabbed the Astroglide, the closest one, and started to pour some onto myself. I could feel the cold, wet lubricant dripping down. The cool liquid made my cock twitch upward as each drop landed.

“Dylan?”

“Yeah?”

“Not in this position,” he said, turning onto his back. “I want to see you the first time,” he said, raising his legs.

I kissed his shin. “Whatever you need.” Getting lost in his eyes, I moved in for one last kiss on his lips. Then I started to make my way closer.

I started thinking about the couch. That time at the diner. Our long walks. Phone conversations.

Could I ruin this by pushing us before we were ready for this step?

“Please,” he whispered, as if he’d heard my case and thrown it out.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” he said, as if he knew exactly what I meant.

I swallowed.

This should be easier, I told myself as I began to press against him. Why was I overthinking this?

Then the tip pushed in.

Jace winced. I immediately wanted to pull out. Stop everything. I didn’t want to hurt him.

Then I felt his hands on my hips.

“A little lower,” he said with a smile. “There you go.”

I could feel the heat of his entrance brushing up against the top of me. Feeling like a furnace warming my body and inviting me in.

I pushed in further, feeling myself slip past the first resistance. Watching Jace closely. His lips pressed between his teeth.

The pleasure from just that was enough to erase every past hookup. Every nameless face.

I could feel how tight he was. Not so tight that I couldn’t slide in. But enough to confirm what I already knew about his experience.

I stopped halfway.

“Jace,” I said, kissing his neck.

He looked up at me like he was afraid I might pull back.

“I’m glad we met,” I said.

He smiled. His body fully accepted me. I could feel the tension start to surrender.

I just held him there. Both of us there. My fingers stroking his hair.

His legs wrapped around me. Then pulled me in, letting me know he was ready.

I wiped away a tear from his eye. Then kissed the spot where it had been. Then started to pull back.

Then back in.

The pleasure felt unbelievable as I pulled back to where I almost left him. Then pushed back in. All the way to the base. Building a slow, steady rhythm.

I could hear his breath sharpen with each thrust.

His moans matching mine.

With each new thrust, I lived out our next few dates.

The movies.

Dinner.

One of those stupid architecture tours.

While I was thinking of future plans, he was entirely in the present. Squeezing down around me, making himself tighter. Massaging me. Wanting me to enjoy his body more, if that were even possible.

Then he let go. Giving me full access to every part of him as I sped up.

I must have hit him just right because his eyes went back and his fingers dug into me.

The side of his cheek pressed against mine as he moaned louder than I’d expected from him.

“Dylan,” he said in a strong, confident voice. “Harder.”

Harder.

Harder was what I gave him. Driving deeper, then pulling back.

Harder with the growing ache of knowing we only had a couple of days together.

I pulled back and slammed into him.

“Yes... Dylan. That feels good. Keep doing that.”

I didn’t hold back. What he needed, I needed to give him.

I could hear the wet, slick sound of two bodies working together.

That sound brought me close to the edge. I could feel that small, spreading fullness radiate up from the base. The sensation of his body made delaying the inevitable impossible.

“Jace...” I said, barely able to speak.

“Dylan. Cum inside me,” he said before planting a deep kiss on my lips.

His mouth. His other body. Together pulling me over the edge. I went rigid. Harder than I had ever felt in my life.

Releasing wave after wave of myself into him. Every second its own thing.

Then I watched as his cock shot off as well, covering his chest.

Then I collapsed, mixing our sweat and exhaustion together.

I stayed there, not wanting to leave. I wanted to stay like this all night, as close to him as I could. But I felt my body relax and slowly let go. Sliding out of him.

Then pulling him into a close embrace, holding him from behind.

I could feel his chest rise and fall. Becoming more shallow as he fell asleep in my arms. Neither saying a word. For once we didn’t need to talk. Just settle into this next step.

As he slept, his hand rested beside him.

I moved mine slowly next to his. My finger barely touching him. Then I looked at him and smiled, kissed his shoulder.

My finger almost touching his. Almost.

I stopped.

Stop holding back.

I wrapped my hand around his and pulled it to his chest. Watching him smile at my touch.

Then me, falling asleep and ready for whatever came next.

Dylan’s POV

Somehow, that “Maybe” became three hours of us walking. By the time dawn broke, he no longer felt like a stranger.

Sitting on the beach on Lake Michigan, Jace had fallen asleep on my shoulder. Talking himself to sleep.

Walking with him, I really did not expect my night to end this way. The sun was starting to warm my face and it was good to see. I felt like it had been forever.

Not being up this late was nothing new. What was new was being able to share my whole life with someone in three hours.

This is crazy. I should be asleep.

I could hear the waves crashing on the shore and the sound of birds searching for scraps. I didn’t want to wake him. One, he looked peaceful. Two, I needed a break from the talking.

Sleeping there, he was so close and felt so warm. I wanted to snuggle up to him for extra heat but couldn’t force my body to do that. His cologne had long washed away and all I could smell was him. It had as unique a smell as his quirky personality.

I saw his hand there. It looked so new. Fresh. Innocent. Like it hadn’t seen a day of hard work. My finger moved closer to it. Wanted to see if it was as soft and warm as it felt when we were walking.

My finger held its spot, barely touching his. Caressing it as lightly as I could. Feeling a bit more coarse than it would let on.

As Jace stirred I jerked my whole hand away.

Too soon.

Jace looked at me through squinted eyes. No one should be this cute on so little sleep.

“Hey, morning,” he said. “How long was I asleep?”

“Only 45 minutes,” I said, brushing a hair from his eyes before looking away.

“You are still here.”

“Yeah, you didn’t scare me off. Well, that story about your obsession with the first guy you slept with was close. But a promise is a promise.”

He looked at his watch. “We’ve got about 10 minutes before we need to go get a spot for the parade.”

“Where did you map out the best spot to watch?” I asked.

“What makes you think—”

My knowing look must have cut him off. I have that effect on people.

“Okay, yeah, the best place to watch it this year is a block just south of Addison.”

I bumped his shoulder. “Well then, let’s go so you can get a good spot.”

Getting up, I could feel the lack of sleep making my body stiff. Maybe I should have just left him there. It just seemed to mean so much and I would only sacrifice a few more hours of sleep.

We started to walk toward the spot he had mapped out. Jace was always a pace too fast but I was keeping up.

As we got closer to the parade route, a sprinkling of people turned into a crowd. I could see Jace slowing down, that nervous energy coming out. Then he paused when he saw a wall of people.

It was like I knew he was afraid. Nervous of being rude if he pushed through the crowd. That would change with age.

I grabbed his hand. “Follow me.”

His hand tightened for half a second before he followed.

I led him through the crowd, bobbing and weaving through groups of people, giving the absentminded “I’m sorry” without meaning it. I felt the adrenaline kick in as I wanted to make sure Jace got to his spot. I really wasn’t sure where the pressure came from.

He was just some kid I met at a bathhouse. We had talked over coffee and shared everything we could before he couldn’t talk anymore on the beach. What made him special.

We finally made it to the curb, letting his hand go. Then he bumped into me. Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have let his hand go that soon. He apologized but I could see why. He was looking around at the hundreds of people waving rainbow flags. Some members of the LGBTQIA+ community, friends, supporters, and just people coming out to enjoy a summer event.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him. His eyes were wide, his smile shining. It was like Christmas and a birthday all rolled into one. I was from the city. Born and raised a few blocks north of here. To him this must have been freedom. A breath of fresh air to be who he was without judgment.

I squeezed his hand as my smile matched his.

In his eyes I could still see my first pride. I was there with my best friend Matt and my sister Lisa. I was just coming out. Even though I lived in the city, I didn’t know how mom and dad would react. Lisa told me no matter what, she would be there for me. Always be my family. We stayed out all night, never leaving each other’s side.

“Are you okay?” I heard Jace ask.

I wiped away a tear and he squeezed my hand. Then placed his hand over mine just as you could hear the first floats coming down the street.

The parade passed in a blur after that.

Drag queens. Dancers. Corporate floats throwing enough free merch to open a small store.

There were politicians. More politicians. And even more politicians. Who already had a majority of our vote.

At some point Jace nearly got taken out by a rogue rainbow beach ball.

Twice.

We laughed so hard that we nearly missed an entire marching band. And the Dykes on Bikes.

But before I knew it the crowd was beginning to thin out.

“You hungry?” Jace asked, almost out of nowhere.

“Tired and starving.”

“Good, I know a place.”

“Please tell me it isn’t a coffee shop with an extra bitchy waitress.”

“No promises,” he said, extending his hand and helping me to my feet.

When we walked into Lucky’s, maybe it was the long night, but it just felt different when I walked in. The cold air and familiar faces giving some kind of second wind.

“Dylan!” I knew that voice.

“Tony!” I said, giving him a hug out of a rare reflex.

“Jesus Christ. You look like hell. Have you slept?”

“Not yet. Hoping to after we grab a bite.”

Tony’s eyes slid over and looked at Jace.

“Well, well. I see why you didn’t sleep.”

I could see Jace turning a bright beet red before my hand rested on his shoulder.

“Not like that, Tony.”

“Right...”

I gave Tony a knowing look he knew too well.

“Good to see you again, kid.” Tony gave him a wink before pushing the door open. “Get in there before you both pass out.”

“What can I get you?” Jeff asked from behind the bar.

“Coffee. Please.”

Jeff stared.

“You know we’re a bar, right?”

“I’m aware.”

“Just checking.” He paused. “And you said please.”

“Jeff...”

He put his hands up. “What does your friend want?”

I looked over at Jace, who I could tell was starting to slow down.

“Jace, what do you want?”

“A Coke, please. And fries if you got ‘em.”

Jeff looked at my hands. “Just a Coke?”

“Yeah, it was a rough night,” Jace said sincerely.

“Another non-alcoholic drink. Going to be a great day!”

Between the bar being busy and Jeff not being happy with our order, I knew he was going to be a minute.

“I KNOW the back of that towheaded little thing anywhere. JACE!” I knew that familiar shrill voice anywhere.

“Pinky!” I heard Jace scream, jumping up and giving Pinky the biggest hug.

She hugged him back, spilling a little of her vodka soda onto the floor.

“Looks like you survived the night. I thought you might have it in you. Finn’s been looking—”

Then she looked at me.

Then at Jace.

Then back at me.

“Wait.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Wait,” she said again before taking a step back. “How do YOU two know each other?”

“We ran into each other,” I said.

“Bullshit.”

“Pinky.”

“What is happening here? And why are you at Pride, Dylan?”

Jace jumped in to save me. Kinda.

“We met late last night and Dylan looked like he needed a friend. So we grabbed a coffee and just ended up talking.”

The word friends lingered in my head longer than it should.

Pinky just looked at me, trying to figure out the world.

“Right...”

She took a big sip of her drink.

“This bar doesn’t have enough Tito’s to deal with this.” She focused on me. “You went to the parade.”

“Yep, he did,” Jace offered.

Stop talking, Jace.

“The whole thing?”

“Front row,” Jace said.

You can be cute but you need to know when to shut up.

Pinky, for the first time in as long as I had known her, didn’t say anything. She just came over and gave me the longest, most genuine hug she had ever given.

She looked back at Jace.

“Good job, kid.”

As she floated away, Jeff dropped off our order. I thanked him and gave him a few extra bucks to make up for just getting coffee. As I was about to take a sip, I could smell the burgers cooking on the patio and my stomach growled.

“You going to make it?” I asked Jace as he started to drink his Coke.

He stopped. “What?”

I like a straw.

“Oh. Hang on.” I grabbed a straw from the bar and handed it to him, leaving a witty comment on the table.

I was about to ask him something I had been putting off when I heard a voice.

“Holy shit.”

I didn’t even have to turn around.

“Morning, Mark,” I said.

“Morning? It’s two in the afternoon.”

Mark dropped onto the stool beside me.

“Have you slept yet?”

“No.”

“Jesus.” He paused. “Doing okay? You looked like shit when...”

“Yeah. The other guy looked far worse.”

He laughed and we clinked our glasses together. Our way of washing the night before under the bridge.

Mark clocked Jace sucking his Coke down through his straw, looking wide-eyed at us.

“And who is this? Are you babysitting for extra money?”

“Jace,” I said, pointing. Then I pointed again. “Mark.”

They shook hands.

“So you’re Dylan’s best friend,” Jace said. “Heard you have a strong right hook.”

Mark just smiled before he sipped his drink, wincing at how strong it was. I knew that look.

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He settled back onto his stool and squinted at me.

Then back at Jace.

“Huh.”

“Don’t,” I said.

“Didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

“I absolutely was.”

Jace snickered. Mark laughed, always loving an audience.

“Just that you never bring anyone,” Mark said. “And on Pride...” He leaned in. “And you can’t even fight back. So, Jace — how the hell did you two meet?”

“At the bathhouse,” Jace said, a little too perkily and without any context.

“Jace...” I said, trying to hold back my laughter at his honesty.

Mark looked over and decided to throw me a lifeline.

“So, first Pride, Jace?”

I sat back and enjoyed my black coffee. The bitterness and caffeine both doing their magic. I watched as Jace told the story of his first Pride, leaving out all the parts about PowerPoints and excessive planning.

Judging by the laughter, Mark and he were hitting it off. That was a first. Mark usually didn’t like new people.

“Well, if you guys can give me a few minutes. Nature calls.”

“Oh my God, Mark, do you already have a client?” Jace said, remembering a conversation we’d had the night before.

Mark and I both slowly looked at Jace, who slurped on the last bit of his soda looking innocent.

Mark looked offended for only half a second before laughing and heading to the restroom. He did NOT have a client. At least I didn’t think he did.

“JACE!”

A voice cut through the bar.

Jace’s head snapped around before mine had a chance.

The grin that spread across his face told me exactly who it was.

Finn.

“Oh my God.”

Finn pushed through the crowd. The coffee felt like it was causing a tightness in my chest.

“I am so sorry,” Finn said.

Jace laughed. “For what?”

“I turned around at Steamworks and you vanished.”

“You disappeared!”

“You disappeared first!”

Finn wrapped him in a hug. Then Finn stopped, looking at me.

“Oh, hey Dylan,” he said with a smile.

“Hey, Finn.”

“Hold on.” Finn pointed between us. “How do you know Dylan?”

“Long story,” Jace said.

“Not the worst outcome,” Finn said, giving me a knowing smile before turning to Jace. “Come on.”

“What?” Jace asked.

“You’ve got people to say hi to.”

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now,” Finn said, sounding relieved.

Jace looked at me like he was deciding whether to stay or go with his new friends.

“Jace, go,” I said, laughing.

Finn dragged Jace behind him, Jace looking back one more time before disappearing to the patio.

Sitting at the bar, finishing my first cup of coffee, I finally felt everything go quiet. No more questions. No more of that sweet small-town honesty.

Mark came back from the restroom just in time to see Finn dragging Jace away.

“Well. There goes your emotional support twink.”

“Shut up.”

Mark laughed and stole one of our fries.

I could hear Jace and a group of guys laughing, Jace trying on one of his new friends’ sunglasses and having a good time. I finished ordering a coffee — this time with a touch of Baileys from Jeff.

I looked over once. Catching Jace looking at me.

Catching me smiling at him.

And me letting him catch me smile back.

Jace’s POV again!

The club music of some unknown song filled the room. So did the beating of my heart. I rubbed my palms.

Sweat on my palms. I really needed to go. Now.

My mind knew where to go but my body wouldn’t budge from this dated black leather couch stained with who knows what.

Placing my head between my legs trying to get my bearings, I saw the other guy on the couch. He looked like he had been fighting back tears for hours. His eyes were red. Swollen.

The sound of moans from the porn on the screen and an occasional slap from the next room interrupted the rhythm of the bass.

He definitely looked like he should be anywhere but here.

I watched him, his brown hair cascading over his forehead. I knew I shouldn’t check someone out in that state but his eyebrow slit was really cute.

Should I say something? Maybe I can make this night better for him. Maybe he would want to fuck me.

Dude. What is wrong with me. This guy could have had God knows what happen to him tonight.

I turned facing him. Just watching him take each sharp breath.

What words would help me right now?

“Nice night,” I eked out. What the actual fuck, Jace.

He glanced over at me like I was an alien then went back to his brooding.

“Sorry. It’s been kind of a night,” I said after a long pause.

“Yeah. No kidding,” he said, laughing to himself.

Oh hey, got a few words out of him.

Part of me told me to just give him space. The rest of me inched over closer to him. The couch broadcasting my movement with a squeak of leather on skin.

He looked like this was a major breach of Steamworks protocol.

“I’m Jace,” I said with too much cheer for 1 am.

“Dylan,” he said. “Are you always this cheerful at Steamworks? Is there a new welcome committee I didn’t get the memo about?”

I sat there not sure what to say. This guy was a dick. Cute and funny. But a dick.

“Sorry. Just trying to make conversation.”

“Yeah. Well if you are looking to get your dick wet there are plenty of other guys interested.”

I sat there, face cracked, unable to make a sentence let alone move.

“Dude, calm down. I just thought you needed—”

“What, a friend? At Steamworks?”

Paused.

“Well. Yeah?” I said, half defensive, half sincere.

Dylan looked at me with disdain and I could almost see the words making it to his brain. He looked at me, confused about what I wanted, but like he was needing to take a chance on something in life.

“Listen, I—” he started before I interrupted.

“Look, you don’t need to do anything you don’t want to, but if you want to talk, I’m here.”

“Wouldn’t you rather go fuck someone?” he said slowly, looking me over. “Or be fucked by someone?”

I took a deep sigh.

“No. I don’t think I’m ready for this place,” I said.

Dylan just laughed.

“You get used to it.”

“Really?”

“Something drew you here, right? Or did you fall into the place thinking it was a late night church?”

“I mean. I knew what happened here. Just...”

“Yeah, it can be a lot for some people, I guess.”

His eyes sunk to the side as I smiled awkwardly.

“The guy with someone punching his ass while wearing a dog mask was the real low point,” I said.

He finally laughed at the utter nonsense of what I’d just said.

“Wait,” I asked sincerely. “Is that what pup play is?”

“I mean...kinda but not really,” he said, laughing.

“Good. You laugh. I was kinda getting worried,” I said.

“About me? You are the one walking around here like a lost horny puppy.”

“I mean, yeah. You looked like you had a night.”

“It was nothing.”

“Nothing looked like a lot. Nothing you don’t cry over.”

“I wasn’t crying.”

He got quiet. “I just hate pride I guess.”

I sat there, my eyes looking at my feet. Was I not seeing the same night?

“Why?” I asked.

He sat there quiet. Playing with his locker key, lost in thought.

“Look, kid—”

“I’m 19.”

“Look, kid. If you want to go fix someone I’m sure there is a twink with daddy issues and an eating disorder just staring at the vending machine down the hall.”

“Sounds like there is a guy here with a personality disorder that—”

“What?!”

“Nothing.”

We sat in more silence. Why are you wasting time on this asshole, Jace.

“My best friend just got kicked out.”

I just listened.

“For making sense and beating a guy off me who was getting a bit...violent.” The last word he whispered like a state secret.

That’s it.

I stood up, adjusting my towel.

I reached out my hand, taking my first real chance of my own tonight.

“Wanna get out of here?”

“Look, dude. I don’t want to hook up with you.”

“What? No. That’s stupid,” I said. “Coffee. There has got to be some place in the city we can go.”

He still looked frustrated.

“Unless you want to keep talking wearing towels around our waists with a literal fuck storm happening around us.”

“I don’t want to go to coffee with anyone.”

“My guess is you want to talk to someone or you would have already left.”

He sat there with those words for a moment, his eyes moving slowly back and forth.

It’s getting late. This guy obviously wants to be alone.

“Fine,” I said. “I can just go.”

He grabbed my wrist. Not hard. Soft. Desperate.

I looked at his hand. Then his eyes.

They had softened. Watery.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” I said, swallowing as I spoke.

We were in complete silence as we got dressed. The entire walk to the coffee shop he didn’t say one word. I didn’t even know his name. Is this how a big city works?

I led the way and he just followed, hands buried in his pockets, head low.

“Hey Dylan, where you headed?” came a stranger’s voice. He just ignored them.

Dylan. So his name is Dylan.

“Looks like you bagged another cutie. Have fun!”

And a slut. I rescued a slut.

We arrived at Beacon Diner. It was the only diner open within walking distance. A rundown place with ten tables and a waitress with a surly attitude. The kind that tells you this was her second or third job.

When she poured the coffee, we still hadn’t said a word since the couch.

I reached over, grabbed my coffee with two hands, and started to counter the effects of all the drinking.

He reached for his cup as if it might strike him back if he moved too fast.

Finally grabbing it, taking the smallest of sips.

“Jace,” I said. He looked up, the disdain back. “My name is Jace.”

He sipped his coffee, guarding it with his body.

“Dylan.”

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This is going to be a long night.

I looked out the window watching a group of guys sprinting by. Making their way to some afterparty no doubt.

“So...is Beacon Diner the official afterparty?”

He looked at me like he was trying to stop himself from laughing.

“No. That’s the emergency room.”

I laughed into my cup.

“You’re funny.”

“What?”

“I said you’re funny. Well, you can be.”

“Do you live around here?” I asked.

He looked up at me, annoyed.

I raised my hands. “Not like that. Just making conversation. Makes the coffee easier to drink.”

“Logan Square.”

“Who is Logan Square?”

“Logan Square is a part of town,” he said. “So you’re not from Chicago.”

“No, Peoria.”

“Wow. Gross. What made you come here?”

“Pride.”

“Ahh, of course.” He leaned in a bit. “Did you have fun?” he asked, a tad too biting.

I immediately thought of Finn. Nathan. Dancing at the club. Pinky. I smiled to myself as I replayed the night in my head.

“It was okay,” I said. He was in no mood to hear about it.

We sat there in more silence.

He started to relax a bit.

“So...go ahead.”

“What?”

“You’re a young guy going to his first pride, out in Chicago, and you ended up at Steamworks. You probably were excited about this for days and have a lot of questions.”

“Weeks.”

“Excuse me?”

“I was planning for this for weeks. Using spreadsheets. Even made myself a PowerPoint presentation.”

“Well, that’s...cute.”

“Is it?” I said, smiling.

“I mean, yeah. I’m sure Hannibal Lecter would find it endearing.”

“I’m just from a small town. There aren’t many gays I know of...just wanted to...I dunno.”

“Have fun?”

“Belong.”

He sat there looking at me and I swear he smiled.

“Okay, so Steamworks. Why does everyone seem so calm about what’s going on there?”

“Because it is the same people showing up the same days of the week. Looking for the same thing. Trying to belong. As you would say.”

“You seem to hate a lot of stuff.”

“It gets easier.”

“Why? It seems like such a great community. Like I had the best night of my life.”

Dylan just smiled to himself as he stirred sugar into his next cup of coffee.

“Let’s start with tonight. My friend got kicked out and I got assaulted.”

“Seems like more to it than that.”

Dylan just sat there, lost in his cup.

“It just gets old. Same people. Doing the same things. Doing the same fucked up shit to each other. Not caring.”

The best thing I could do was show him my side of that. I told him about Pinky, Finn, Ricky, and Decan. I left out the more sordid bits because I felt it made a better case. Besides, he didn’t need to know.

“Sounds like a nice night out,” Dylan said.

“It was,” I said, getting another refill of my coffee.

“What did you leave out?”

Shit. Do I have cum in my hair or something?

“Nothing.”

“First time going out. You meet Pinky and Finn and there isn’t any more than that.”

“Wait, you know them?”

“Yeah, from Lucky’s, right?”

“Yeah. Lucky’s is our home base,” he said, focusing on me. “Back to you. What are you leaving out?”

I nearly choked on my coffee.

“Nothing.”

“I doubt a boy from Peoria at pride, who didn’t run away screaming from Steamworks, had an innocent night out.”

“That’s not what is important. What is important is that I felt safe and welcomed my first time out in the city.”

“I’m sure you were.”

“Finn was really nice.”

“Finn is a nice guy.”

“Pinky took care of me.”

“She loves to do that.”

“So then what is your issue?”

“That some of the people you think are there for you and welcoming aren’t there when you really need them. They are only there when there is a party. Not when it is over.”

I sat there looking into my cup.

“Maybe,” I said, looking back out the window. “But today they showed up for me.”

“Give it time.”

“That’s kind of depressing.”

Dylan shrugged.

“It’s reality.”

“No. It’s your reality.”

Dylan looked up.

“Big difference.”

“Pinky didn’t know me.”

“Finn didn’t know me.”

“Ricky didn’t know me.”

“None of them had a reason to be nice to me.”

“They just were.”

“For one night,” he scoffed.

“That’s all that mattered to me. I walked through that door practically shaking and they made me not scared. To me that is a gift.”

“You know what the problem is?”

“Everybody talks about chosen family.”

“Nobody talks about what happens when the family chooses someone else.”

“Well, maybe you chose the wrong family, Dylan.”

Dylan folded his arms and just sat looking at the center of the table.

“You really don’t get a chance to choose what happens when your baby sister dies, Jace.”

Oh shit. I just sat there looking. All the pieces fell into place in his puzzle.

I reached out and took his hand. He pulled away. Then didn’t. His hands felt cold. Distant. I just held on.

I took a deep breath.

“Dylan. Shit, I am sorry.”

I could see the tears forming in his eyes before he pushed them away. Easy. Like everything else.

“Life happens. Or not in this situation.”

Dylan’s body seemed to finally let go of something.

“So a PowerPoint, huh?”

I laughed at the question. He did listen.

“Yeah. Transitions and everything.”

“Christ.”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“I am telling everyone.”

The laughter lingered longer than I think either of us expected.

Interrupted by a canister of tea landing on the table.

“More?” the waitress said, with a tone that demanded an immediate answer.

“Yes please,” I said, looking at her with a smile.

She grunted her answer and left with as little care as she came.

“Well, she was pleasant,” Dylan responded.

“To be fair I thought you might be related. You guys have the same chip on the shoulder.”

He just stared at me.

“Same friendly disposition.”

“Ass,” he said, laughing and throwing a wadded up paper napkin at me.

He leaned in. “Okay, I have one for you.”

“How old are you?”

“21.” I could see him staring at my hands. “Okay, 20.”

His eyebrow raised.

“19,” I admitted slowly.

“Christ.”

“How old are you?”

“24.”

I just looked at him. “Wow.”

“I know.”

“So what was it like when Eisenhower was president?”

“Shut up,” he said, choking on his coffee.

“I mean, I knew you were old but I didn’t know you were Dumbledore old.”

He just looked at me, pursing his lips in defiance.

“You aren’t that much older than me.”

“Fair,” he said.

“Have you even had a boyfriend or dated anyone?”

“I went on one date so far. Met on Grindr. I thought it went really well. He ghosted me after.”

“Oh. Sorry. You seem much older than your age.”

“I think it comes from having to take care of my brothers after my mom died.”

“Oh shit. I’m sorry.”

“I mean, yeah, it still sucks but we had to still live, you know?”

“Yeah...”

We sat there and he seemed to look at me differently.

He looked down at his half cup of coffee.

“So, you planned this for weeks?”

“This date? No.”

“Not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant.”

“Yeah. I thought I needed to plan out everything to make it perfect.”

“How did that go?”

“Honestly, the best parts were the ones not planned. Kinda like this one.”

Dylan just shook his head.

“You’re ridiculous.”

It was the nicest thing he’d said to me all night. The first time I could see him blush.

We grabbed our checks and started to walk just as the sunrise was coming up.

“Tomorrow is the parade,” I said.

“Yeah?” Dylan said.

“Would you like to go with me?”

Dylan studied my face long and hard. Then continued walking, thinking, before he nudged me on the side.

“Maybe.”

That maybe I had all morning to work on as we shared everything we could about each other.

Dylan’s POV

I tilted my chair back on Lucky’s patio, cigarette between my fingers and my boot resting on the chair in front of me. My third cigarette of the night. I probably looked bored. Seductive. At least I hoped so. It was a look I had spent the last five years perfecting.

Looking around, I saw the exact same people doing the exact same things they did when I started coming here.

Taking a drag, I looked around the bar.

There was Jeff, my bartender, who served drinks far too weak unless he liked you. Then he made them extra strong.

I inhaled again.

Mark, my partner in crime. Walking around, talking to each person like he was the mayor of seedy establishments. Perfect at hiding all the things he did for money. Not like I was a saint. But he took it to another level.

Taking a sip of bourbon.

Finn was probably finding some new boy around here to shower with attention and then never talk to again.

Pinky, lip-syncing like she was trying to pay rent. Still bragging about the one time she won Ms. Halstead in 2019 and how Covid took her chance at stardom.

All around me. All predictable.

Looking around the bar, I saw the type I was looking for. Older, average, and horny. He was nestled up to the bar, half watching Shakira shake her hips on the video wall and the other half watching me.

I gave a slight smile then looked away, finishing my cigarette. Then walked to the bar, pretending I didn’t feel him watching each step.

Jeff was cleaning the bar.

“Hey, Dylan.”

“Hey, Jeff. Where is Mark?”

“He was talking to a new friend. Should be in his spot soon, I’d imagine. What will you have?”

I looked over at the man. Gave him another smile, then back to Jeff.

“Give me a minute.”

I could hear him laugh under his breath knowingly as he went back to work wiping down the counter.

I waited for the guy to look over at me before raising an eyebrow. The one with the now classic slit in it. Then winked at him before he walked over.

Let’s see. I need to pay Mark.

I lifted my arm behind my back to show a little skin. The guy no longer looking at my eyes. Typical.

Drinks will be covered but I don’t have a connection at the bathhouse.

I reached under my shirt, lifting it up to show more flesh and expose my happy trail.

That should cover it.

The man walked over.

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?”

Bingo.

“Yeah, wow. That is so unexpected. Never had a guy buy me a drink before.”

I could practically feel Jeff’s head whiplash as those words slid out of my mouth.

“What would you like?”

“Gee... um... is it okay if I ask for a beer?”

“Sure you don’t want something stronger?”

“I mean, like a Jell-O shot?” I said innocently.

I could hear Jeff laugh quietly. I wanted to throw a napkin, a coaster, a glass. Anything to shut him up.

“Drink what you want. You’re really cute.”

“What about an old fashioned. Like I like my men,” I said with a wink.

“Bartender.”

Jeff spun around, throwing the towel over his shoulder like we were on Cheers or something.

“Get my friend and me a double old fashioned.”

“Right away. What kind of bourbon?”

“Woodford, if you want it.”

“Wow. Thanks... um... sorry, what’s your name?”

“Daniel. My friends call me Dan,” he said, leaning against the bar.

Couldn’t help noticing the ring there, Daniel.

“Thanks, Dan. So nice. And on pride.”

I could see him checking every inch of my body out.

Normally, I wouldn’t say no to him. But Mark told me never to shit where you eat. And I needed to feast to get through tonight.

“So where are you from?” he asked.

“Oh, from just outside Madison,” I said, knowing I was born here in Chicago. “Just moved here last year. Are you from here?” I asked, side-eyeing him as Jeff dropped our drinks.

Taking a sip, I faced him. He smelled off. Like a Christmas tree left out in a summer rain, kinda off.

“I’m visiting from Kansas City.”

Looking around the bar, I started to look for where Mark went.

“Oh, I hear they have the best BBQ around there,” I said almost too quickly.

“We like to think so.”

“You go out much in Chicago?”

“To Boystown? No. I don’t really get out that much.”

Motherfucking god, Jeff, I can hear your eyes rolling from there.

“Well, it is pride.”

“Yeah, I can always put in a few more hours at work to cover it,” I said softly into my drink. I moved toward him, pushing my body closer.

He rested a hand on my hip.

“Hey, a few of my friends are going to be at Roscoe’s later. Think you can join us?”

“To Roscoe’s?”

“Mmhmm.”

“On pride night?”

“Yeah, is that a bad idea?”

“No.” I looked down. “No. Just, there’s a cover, so nah. Going to stay here, take it easy.”

He reached into his wallet. What is it, like $20?

“More like $40.”

“$40 for cover?”

“Yeah, it is insane,” I said, putting my hand on top of his, rubbing the wedding ring.

“Wha, what?”

I moved my ear closer.

“What if I get your cover?” he said, reaching for his wallet.

“Shit, no, Dan. I couldn’t. You already got me a drink.” I raised my hands. “That wouldn’t be right.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it. If you promise to meet me over there,” he said, almost giving puppy dog eyes, “I’ll cover your cover.”

“No, no, no. I can stay here,” I said, lowering my eyes to his chest, then to the bulge in his pants, licking my lips in feigned arousal.

“I insist. I don’t mind at all.”

He started to hand over the $40.

“Wait,” I said, forcing him to stop. He looked at me, our lips only inches apart.

My friend. I can’t leave him behind. Maybe he could join us?

I could feel Jeff staring at both of us. Watching.

Dan paused. Maybe I had pushed too much.

He studied me. Then looked at his wallet. Then back at me.

“Sure,” he said. “Here’s five twenties. Go grab him and meet us over there in about 30.”

“Oh my god, Dan. Wow. That is so sweet,” I said, taking the money before he changed his mind. “I gotta go find my friend and say we will be at Sidetrack...”

Roscoe’s...

Roscoe’s. Right! In 30 minutes.

I turned away trying to make my escape but bumped into a new one.

“Sunshine!” Pinky’s voice, always performing for the bar.

I rolled my eyes.

“Please, I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Then stop looking like somebody cancelled Christmas.”

“You used to dance.”

“I’m twenty-four, not eighty.”

“I’m serious.” She reached out fixing my hair and me pulling back.

“You used to stay until close. You used to make bad decisions. You used to laugh.”

She looked away for a moment.

“I miss seeing that guy.” She said it quietly. Almost to herself.

I faked a smile. “Well. Let me go find him right now.”

“Where...”

“Sorry, Pinky, the night calls,” I said, bowing to her.

I practically pranced across the bar, over the small empty dance floor toward the men’s restroom.

I pushed open the bathroom door like I owned the place. It was empty in there, the club bass pounding. But that wasn’t the only thing.

“Yeah. Mm. Yeah.”

I could barely hear the words over the club music.

I knew those moans anywhere.

I laughed to myself and almost skipped as I rapped on the stall door.

“Mark?!” I called out.

“I’ll be done... um... in... one minute.”

I waited, hearing a rhythmic bumping against the stall door, growing faster as I tapped my foot.

Hurry up, Mark.

Then finally a loud moan, followed by silence. A toilet flush.

The stall door opened quickly and a large older man squeezed by me without making eye contact.

“Don’t forget to leave us a review on Yelp,” I called out before the door closed.

Mark slowly exited, adjusting his shorts and brushing his hair to the side with his hand. He gave me a knowing smile.

I handed him $20.

“Wow. Don’t I feel like Chase Bank today?”

“It’s for the cigs and the drink earlier.”

“What was that?” I nodded toward the stall.

“Rent,” he said, looking in the mirror.

We both walked out side by side.

“I don’t know how you do it,” I laughed.

“What? Take a $300 raw in a bar restroom?”

“Yeah, would take at least a handle of tequila.” I spotted Dan sitting nervously at the bar. Maybe two.

Mark reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of twenties.

“This does more for me to loosen up than a whole liquor store of tequila,” he said, sounding satisfied with himself.

He tapped me on the chest. “Where to next? Roscoe’s?”

“Uh... no,” I said, pausing. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

Mark just laughed to himself.

We practically ran toward the front of the bar.

“Dylan, you are a fucking machine,” Jeff called out from behind the bar before taking another order as the bar got more crowded.

“Tell me something I don’t know, Jeff,” I called back as we headed out the door and into our pride night.

Running across, we made our way past Liam, the burly doorman at Sidetrack, with a salt and pepper goatee and arms like tree trunks. He barely looked up before letting us sneak in, not charging cover.

I put my arm around Mark as we entered the main bar area. I could feel his sweat from his earlier...um...exercise on his shirt. He always had a way of smelling like coconut shampoo mixed with nutmeg and something sweet underneath.

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We made our way to Chris, who had two frozen drinks ready for us before we even sat at the bar.

“Chris!” Mark called out.

Jeff may have been my bartender but Chris was Mark’s.

And where Jeff was a tether I had to a conscience...

I watched as Chris shook Mark’s hand, passing him a white substance in a bag.

Chris was not.

I looked at Mark’s hand then at him. Then walked away with my drink. Some things I could handle. That was not one of them.

I took a strong sip of my drink.

“Hey Dylan, sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, Mark,” I said, hissing.

“It’s not. I’m sorry, I know...”

“Mark, you can fuck whomever you want for however much. I just don’t want to see THAT.”

“I know. I messed up, sorry,” he said, raising his hands.

“Look, if it is about Lis...”

Without thinking I grabbed him by the shirt and pushed him against the post. Everyone around us looking to see what was going on.

Mark looked as shocked as I did.

I let him go, patting his chest and making a fake smile.

“You’re fucking right it’s about Lisa,” I said, my finger pointing at his chest.

He just let it go.

He should. Right? It’s pride and my dead junkie sister has no place hanging out with us.

I could feel an unwelcome wetness around my eyes. No one saw it but Mark and me.

He was the only one who had in a year.

“Dylan, I’m so sorry,” he said, giving me a hug. “I promise after tonight...”

I nodded my head.

Mark had been my friend for as long as I had been going out. He was not only my best friend. He had my back for anything. Except this one rehearsed lie.

I started to walk away. A slight familiar ringing in my ear growing louder.

“Dylan...” Mark called out, grabbing my arm.

“It’s fine, Mark,” I said, smiling back. “I just need to go clear my head a bit.”

Mark tried to follow me but knew it was best to just let me cool off. I wasn’t going anywhere. He was the only family I had left.

I walked up the stairs, slamming down the rest of my drink and making my way up to the patio bar to grab another. Some people have told me that therapy helps. Walking up the stairs, the sound of the club softened to a ringing in my ear. I have other ways of dealing with life.

I moved to the bar and leaned against it looking around, waiting for another drink. I saw a guy across the bar, 35, balding without dignity, not too bad looking, decent body.

I nodded at him to come over.

Mark may have had his bad habits. But I had mine.

My first drink started hitting me as we both were making out in the club restroom. The black cold tile pressing up against my shoulders.

Making out with this guy. Not knowing his name used to feel like a new thing. But I had done it for years. What was funny was it used to be a rush. A thrill to do this in public. Maybe getting caught. Now I cared as much as I felt.

The guy I met at the bar was there visiting friends. Nice enough. Paid me a few compliments. I almost felt something for him before kissing him, arousing his lust.

He followed me. Or more my body, to the bathroom without hesitation. Leading him across the club, sure we got looks. None I hadn’t seen before. Some wishing they were him. Some having pity.

All could go to hell.

His tongue was pushing around my mouth. I could taste rum and cherry mixed with a hint of something off.

As his mouth explored mine behind the stall door, I felt nothing worth finding. Instead, with each new touch and level of seduction, the less I felt. The more I needed to feel something.

As he kissed my neck, I could see my own eyes look back at me in the black tile.

Lost in thought as he undid my pants and lowered them to the ground. Why did this calm me down?

Pressing my hand up against the tile as I heard him spit on himself.

Then finally a bit of humanity as he thrust into me hard and deep. Sinking himself down all the way. The chill of the tile on my fingertips felt more intimate than the man inside me.

I finally thought I saw myself blink as he thrust in and out. Hitting something right but not having the same reaction it did the first hundred times I had done this.

My body may have let him slide in but something deep inside recoiled and wanted him out. That voice had lost all say in the matter.

As he held my hips, digging in deep as he thrust. This guy was nice to me at the bar. Pretended to want to get to know me. Just wanted to see how I felt.

He was going to leave a bruise. He didn’t care. I barely cared. Just something to have to explain to the next guy.

His thrusting became almost clinical. Emotionless. His grunting growing louder as I stayed very still and let him finish.

He was sweating more and more. His moaning became foreign and asymmetrical in tone. Gross. At the same time I felt calmer than I had since getting here.

Fuck. At least Mark got paid for this.

I pressed my other hand on the tile. Trying to grip and finding nothing. Pushing my body harder down on his cock. Sending him over the edge.

I could feel him spasm a few times and then withdraw as quick as he entered.

Didn’t even bother cleaning myself up. I could drip out the rest of the night. Feel the wetness mixed with my tenderness.

I put my pants on, not even looking back, and left him there to finish getting ready.

I got mine. He got his. Nothing else was needed.

Splashing some cold water on my face and straightening my hair. All felt better in the world.

“Hey, where did you go?” I heard Mark’s voice as he wrapped his arm around my waist.

“Just had to go walk things off.”

Mark gave me the look. The one he saved for when I disappeared.

“You good?”

“Great,” I said, sliding some gum in my mouth and dancing with him on the dance floor. Dancing for hours, making out with nameless faces, rubbing against hot bodies without heads.

If this was Sodom.

What would dare put this to an end.

It was last call when we stumbled out of the club, my buzz long gone but the night still demanded more.

“Ready to go to Steamies?” Mark called out.

“Hell yeah, let’s GOOOOO,” I said, even though I hated his nickname for Steamworks.

Once inside, we had our system down. We wouldn’t hunt together. That could scare off prospects. We would still check in every so often. If we saw one sitting on the couch, that usually meant they needed a break or had a good story to tell.

After breaking off, I walked around my designated path, tucking my key under the armband. Smelling myself to make sure I was putting my best foot forward. Not that anyone would care at this hour of night.

Part of me just wanted to go home but I had an image to upkeep.

I ran into some regulars, friends, hookups. It might as well have been a class reunion the way we could just make conversation. That night felt different.

I walked from one room to the other almost as if I were a sober zombie. I didn’t know what I wanted. Just that I needed something.

Passing by rooms with doors open and someone stroking.

Someone ass up.

Two people making out.

A person in a sling being whipped.

Looking at the key on my arm, I wondered just how many times I had done each of those rooms. Wondering which of the countless rooms I had actually not used.

Nothing phased me. None of it shocking.

After 30 minutes, nothing. Not one hookup. This was my worst Steamworks drought since the Wicked midnight premiere at the AMC.

I made my way through a maze of bodies and finally saw a guy at the end who at least made me look twice. In the red haze of the maze, he was stroking his cock.

It was nice, thick. Bigger than anything I had taken in a while. I reached for it, feeling its length, and he let go. Letting me work his cock. Feeling each ridge and vein. It throbbing.

I could smell bourbon mixed with tequila on his breath. If he had a breath mint this could actually be hot.

As I stroked his cock his mouth nuzzled up to my neck. Kissing me. Nibbling on my ear before whispering.

“I missed you at Roscoe’s.”

My heart plummeted before I turned way too quickly to face him.

Dan looked different than he did hours ago. He was slumped over to the side slightly and was chewing his lips. His eyes dilated.

“Oh, hey Daniel. Dan,” I said, trying to force a smile.

He mockingly smiled at me back, stumbling as he moved forward.

“Hey, we tried to...find you...but...”

He grabbed my hand much too hard. And pushed me forward.

“If you wanted the money, that’s one thing, kid. But to make me think you were interested...that’s fucked up.”

“But...I’m here now, right?” I said, trying to get out of the situation. His hand turning harder on my wrist. Pressing up against my backside and lowering my towel.

“Yeah, because you are a lying slut. A fucking lying slut that embarrassed me.”

I heard him lower his towel.

No...

I thought. I can’t...

I closed my eyes.

His thick shaft started probing my backside.

Then I heard flesh cracking on flesh. Then a loud thud as Dan fell to the floor. Mark standing above him.

“YOU ASSHOLE, YOU PUNCHED MY FUCKING FACE,” Dan yelled.

“Mark?” I said. “Where...how?” I said, stumbling back.

Mark tried to answer but made sure that Dan was out of commission.

“What is going on here?” a voice said, followed by a flashlight searching the room.

“HE PUNCHED ME,” Dan said, no longer as strong as he was a few minutes ago.

The worker shone his light on Dan’s face, then Mark’s, and finally onto mine.

“He tried to attack my friend,” Mark said, still keeping a barrier between me and Dan.

“I don’t care who did what. You two are both out of here,” he said, pointing to Dan and Mark.

“What about me?” I said, not knowing what I wanted to do.

“You look like you need to sit down. Don’t make me regret this.” He said and escorted them out.

Mark looked back like he wanted me to go with him. I was in a fog and couldn’t find my bearings or my loyalty in that moment.

I walked to the back leather couch that had witnessed the fight. And a hundred acts that day that were more disturbing.

I sat down, sinking into the cushions. Not knowing where I belonged.

Jace’s POV

My first pride had been a week in the making. Back home, my bedroom practically looked like an FBI conspiracy board dedicated to every gay bar, club, and drag brunch in Chicago.

Would I be able to make friends? Would I have my first drink? Get laid? Get shot at? What exactly is Pup Play?

You know, all the normal questions one asks going into the summer months.

Looking in the mirror one last time, I made sure every hair was perfectly in place and that my shorts were short enough to show off my nice legs. Just not too much to make people think I was easy. Well, that easy.

Walking toward the hotel door, my hand started shaking as I reached for the handle. The cold metallic handle did little to steady my nerves.

This is it, Jace. You can’t be stuck in Peoria all your life.

Walking out onto the streets of Boystown, I couldn’t get over the scale. Buildings for as far as you could see littered the skyline. The coldness of the city stopped at the water’s edge of Lake Michigan, providing the perfect backdrop and giving the city life.

Everything back home felt minuscule compared to Chicago. Honestly, so did I.

Walking over to the first bar — a bar listed online with okay reviews and, better yet, a video bar that was “just outside the busy Boystown scene” — I had already decided it would be my home base.

It looked like a perfect place to get acclimated before being thrown in the ocean with the other gay fish. From the outside it was part of what looked like every other building on this side of town, minus a large sit-down patio on the side that was larger than our normal Chicago sidewalk bar and cafe.

I walked up to the window and pressed my head in. It looked busy, but far from the mob I expected to see on a Saturday of pride weekend. Inside I counted maybe 80 to 100 strangers and only needed to impress one or two.

I swallowed hard. Pulled the handle and felt a gust of air-conditioned air wash over my body, followed immediately by the sound of club music.

“In or out,” I could barely hear from the doorman, who was sitting on a worn black leather stool.

I let the door close behind me and looked around the bar, not knowing where to go.

“First time?” he asked.

“I...uh...” My brain not processing what he asked.

“I.D.” he said officially. He didn’t smile and waited impatiently as I fished out my wallet. My I.D. slipped out of my shaking hand and onto the floor. I could hear him sigh as I reached down to pick it up.

Guantanamo Bay is more welcoming to first timers, I thought, as he looked at my I.D. and then checked me over.

I questioned whether I should just run back to my hotel room. Just tell my friends some elaborate story of a wild weekend but sit inside watching TV and hiding under a blanket.

“Give me your hands,” he said, like he was processing me into federal custody.

I only stood there, not sure why he needed my hands.

“Kid, give me your hands.”

“F-for what?” I asked.

“You’re 19. I need to mark them,” he said emotionlessly.

He grabbed a giant black marker, removed the cap, and put a wet X on the top of each hand.

“No drinking,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said politely. I had never had a drink but somehow craved one after that interaction.

I stared at my hands as I felt the black scarlet letters dry, then bumped into a large man four times my size.

“Watch it, kid.”

Kid. I hated being called kid. I was younger but it’s not like I showed up here in a Pokémon shirt, overalls, and a SpongeBob lunchbox. Though, judging by what I found on the internet, that could be desirable to some.

“Sorry,” I said, avoiding calling him sir.

Walking in, the website did not do the bar justice. A massive cherrywood bar stretched through the center of the room. In the center was a large storage cabinet that had four TVs on each side, facing out with music videos playing. There was also a smell of smoke that had baked into cedar with fresh beer spilled on top of it. It looked and smelled historic. Like it had been here well before I was born.

I walked between all kinds of people. Large men, twinks like me, a drag queen, and a mix of others. I tried to find a place to set up shop. On my third pass around the bar I found nothing. Finding a space between the bar and a column, I leaned my back against it, waiting for some miracle to save me, clutching my hands and squeezing them. Mad at myself for being shy.

Maybe I should just go home.

My heart beat louder. Looking around, I started to feel dizzy as my breathing became heavier.

I needed a friend. What I got was Pinky.

“Sweetheart, if you clutch those hands any tighter you’re gonna turn those little X’s into diamonds,” a husky feminine voice said behind me.

I turned around and saw nothing but dark, almost black hair that reached for the ceiling with rainbow bows scattered around like ornaments on a Christmas tree. Her velvet would make Jessica Rabbit blush and a butt bigger than Lake Michigan.

“Come here,” she practically ordered, with a smile on her freshly caked face.

I walked over to her with the same energy as if my mother had called me over for a beating. My arms were tucked in and I looked around as I walked over to her.

“It’s okay, sweetie, I don’t bite.”

I wasn’t sure about that. I would need references.

“Do you talk?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ma’am?! Do I look like a ma’am to you?!”

I could only blink.

“Yes, sir?” I said with the least confidence possible.

She just looked at me, practically squinting, before busting out in a harder laugh than any of my dad’s buddies on a poker night.

“Aren’t you just the cutest thing. Let me guess. First pride?”

Do I have a sign?

“Yeah. I just got into town.”

“No shit, sweetie. I haven’t seen eyes this wide since the poppers hit during Beyoncé’s Renaissance tour,” she said with a smile before spinning me over to the bar and into a seat next to her.

“What brings you here?” she asked, filling in for Judge Judy.

“I, uh. Just wanted to go to my first pride and...uh...”

“Get laid.”

I just nodded, looking around the bar like she’d divulged some big secret.

Her laugh again filled the bar.

“Honey, you act like you are the first Anywhere, USA boy to walk through that door. We are ALL here to get laid. Either by our husbands, future husbands, or some booty call until we find our future husbands.”

I started to actually smile. “What you need to watch out for is that an innocent thing like you won’t make it far tonight unless you listen to Pinky.”

“P-Pinky?”

“Boy, you really don’t know anything,” she said, pointing to her cleavage with both hands. “Pinky Ryyder.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. R...”

She put her finger up to my mouth, silencing me.

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“Okay, if we are going to be friends you need to stop with that ma’am and ms. shit real fast,” she said jokingly.

“Let me guess. Small town?” she asked, circling around me, inspecting every part of me. Practically waiting to inspect my teeth.

I nodded.

“Honey, have you ever been to a gay bar?” Pinky just ignored me and acted like she was on stage but with an audience of one.

“No, first time.”

“I see,” she said, tousling my hair and gently smacking my cheeks.

“And you decided to show up looking like that?”

I looked down at my outfit, wondering what she took offense to.

That outfit says I’m innocent but those shorts say I’m willing to negotiate.

“I’m not trying to...”

“Finn!” She called out, looking around.

But no one came.

“You have a name?”

“Ja-Jace.”

“Ja-Jace will not do.”

“Jace,” I said, smiling.

“Better. Well, Jace,” she said, still looking around the bar, “you went from having zero business to walking into one of the most intense gay nightlife scenes in the city. If you are going to survive, you need MY help.”

Pinky likes to give three rules.

One. Never leave your drink unattended. Not for one moment.

Two. Never go home with someone you will regret the next morning.

I could see Pinky had found someone and waved them over, then looked exasperated.

“Four. Always let a friend know where you are.”

But all my friends are back...

“FINN, GET YOUR SKINNY ASS OVER HERE BEFORE some emotionally unavailable man with a vape addiction adopts him for the evening.”

From the other side of the bar I could see a guy with black, untamed hair coming toward Pinky at her command. He couldn’t even be a year older than I was but walked with five years more experience and confidence. And then his smile. A smile that could make a politician blush.

“You rang,” he bowed to Pinky sarcastically.

I could feel Finn look me up and give me a thorough inspection. My second of the day.

“Finn. This is Jace. He is from...” She looked at me. “Where did you say you were from?”

I hadn’t.

“Peoria,” I said.

“Wow,” Finn said, leaning against the bar. “That somehow sounds both deeply Midwestern and mildly contagious.”

“Now be nice to Jace,” Pinky said, motherly, as she poured her martini into a plastic cup.

“It is his first time in the city,” she continued, sliding a straw in the cup and stirring the drink around. “Can you be a dear and watch over him tonight? Show him everything Chicago has to offer,” she said, reaching her hand into her cleavage.

“Everything?”

She handed him a wad of bills.

“Everything.”

I looked at them both, trying to decipher what had just been transacted about my fate.

She thrust the drink cup into Finn’s hands.

“Go with Finn to the bathroom. You are going to drink that. Maybe it will get more than four words out of you. Loosen you up,” she said, swatting my bottom.

Finn started to usher me to the bathroom, but I stopped.

“But you said not to take drinks from a stranger...” I said, looking at her with practically doe eyes. Also showing her I can use more than four words from the English dictionary.

“Honey, I’m not a stranger. I am your mother-tucking Godmother of Pride for you tonight. Now go. Finn will be good at taking care of you,” she said, cackling as Finn grabbed my hand and led me to my fate.

Finn led me down the corridor to the men’s restroom, holding my hand tight as if he knew I had one foot in this adventure and one foot ready to sprint. His other hand held the drink. I noticed that for being my age, there were no marks of youth on his hands.

We darted into the bathroom like we were anticipating a police raid, ushering me into a large stall before locking it behind us.

I took a deep breath as he studied me, not saying a single word. I started to speak but before a word could escape he shoved the drink in my hand. “Drink,” he said.

Not said. Ordered.

I brought the cup up to my lips. It smelled like turpentine fused with melon.

I started to sip slowly and gagged.

Is this poison? It tastes awful.

I wanted to tap out, but Finn’s tanned skin and grey eyes forced another sip.

“Jesus,” he said, matter-of-factly, before tilting the cup up and forcing more fluid down my throat.

Great. I came to make friends and here I am getting waterboarded with martinis.

I somehow took every drop and wiped my mouth of any excess.

“What the fuck was that for?” I asked with slight anger.

“Well, one, pride is only two days. And two, would you rather that or sip it for the next hour?”

I stood there blinking before finally saying, “Rather rip off the bandaid.”

“Good,” he said.

“Next time. Warn me first.”

“Deal,” he said, smiling. “Sorry, when Pinky gives an order...it’s best to just do it,” he said, rubbing his arm.

“Yeah, she can be a bit...”

“Much.”

“Yeah,” I said as we both chuckled.

He looked over at me. “Feel anything yet?”

“No,” I responded.

“Good.”

He leaned in and kissed me on the mouth. No warning. No subtlety. Just diving tongue-first into my mouth.

I could taste his tongue and he tasted like spearmint and something naturally sweet underneath.

I just stood there, not sure what to do. Yes, I had made out with a few boys. Slept with fewer. But making out in public, this was new.

His hand brushed up on my cheek as he pulled me deeper into our kiss, his tongue finding new areas of my mouth to explore.

A moan escaped my lips, echoing in the bathroom. Then he pulled away. I could feel my buzz starting to hit. My head felt lighter. Even my nose tingled. I looked at Finn, watching him just stare at me emotionlessly. This wasn’t a date. Nor romance. Just two guys getting off. This is what I wanted.

I pulled him back onto me, leading our make-out session now, pushing him against the wall. He sighed when his back made contact against the tile, pushing out his hips and rubbing his hardness on mine.

A thought intruded on our kiss. Was this him or another one of Pinky’s orders? Who cares. I’m making out with a cute guy at Pride.

He pushed me away and sank to his knees. Was this going to happen here? He pulled my shorts down, exposing me to the cold bathroom air, then quickly devoured my cock down his throat.

If this is what the city had to offer, I knew I wanted more.

I had received three blowjobs in my life. One from Peter Jensen, who had braces and was like shoving my dick down a garbage disposal. Jeremy Richards, who was decent, except he spat out even the slightest hint of semen, swearing he could get pregnant. And Josh Richards.

He was the best and, boy, I gave everything I could to him last summer. Still, he couldn’t even get on the award stand with Finn.

This boy knew his way around a dick. He moved up and down as his tongue moved side to side. All the sensation made me squirm at his touch.

I stood there, shorts down, my hand pulling at his hair for dear life, moaning and forcing my other hand to cover my mouth to muffle my ecstasy.

He pulled off and gave me a wicked smile.

“You like?” he asked. I just nodded my head.

Then dove back down. As the alcohol took full effect, I could feel myself push in and out of his throat, sliding deeper the more his throat relaxed.

His hands grabbed my ass and pulled me into him faster.

I don’t think I can last much longer, I thought. Should I warn him? My wall back home didn’t have a plan for this.

As his tongue started to swirl around my head, I lost all control. No warning. Just shooting rope after rope of cum down his throat.

He struggled to swallow every last drop, choking on the contents I left in his mouth.

“You should probably warn someone before you shoot,” he said, wiping his lips.

“Payback for the waterboarding,” I said, patting his shoulder and leaving the stall.

There I was, a boy from Peoria who just got his first blowjob in the restroom of a bar. I knew one thing with certainty: I may never go back home. That, and always listen to Pinky.

I walked out of the bathroom and felt like everyone knew what we had just done. Maybe it was my tousled hair. Maybe Finn did that all the time. Or maybe it was just my overactive imagination.

Finn led me back to the bar area and I immediately looked for Pinky.

“Where?” I asked, looking around.

“She has a performance coming up. She probably had to get ready,” he said, matter-of-factly, leaning up against the bar. He grabbed my hand. “Let’s go to the patio.”

He led me out to the patio area. For late June it was surprisingly cool. There was a cool breeze coming off the lake that shielded us from the sweltering heat we’d had all summer.

Finn sat down with a collected confidence that only comes with years of practice.

“You smoke?” he asked.

I shook my head no. I guess he’ll put anything in his mouth.

He just nodded, like he knew I’d come around in time.

Taking his first cigarette, he put his foot on the chair and leaned back.

“So how do you like it?” he asked.

“The blowjob?” I asked.

“No, Chicago so far.” He laughed.

“Oh. I mean, it is big and impressive. It’s actually not my first time here. My parents brought me here several times.”

“I see,” he said, taking a drag. “Tonight, if someone else asks you that, you say this is your first time and the big city is so impressive.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Why would I do that?”

“Makes you seem innocent. People will want to talk to you more.”

“Any other tips?”

“No. Just a couple of questions. Are you always this nervous?”

I thought I was doing well after making a drag queen bestie and getting a blowjob 20 minutes after getting to the bar.

I sat there and took a deep breath. Just be yourself, Jace.

“Do you always give blowjobs to strangers?” I asked, feeling that one out.

I saw him smile from the right side of his mouth.

“No. Did you get a blowjob the minute you got to Chicago with your parents, or is that just for special occasions?”

We stood there looking at each other, eyes narrowing.

Before we both cracked, barely controlling our laughter.

“I like you,” Finn said.

I looked at the box of cigarettes on the table. Camel Crush. At that point I was not as familiar with the brand as I would become.

My fingers inched closer to the box. I could see Finn studying me.

“Give me one,” I said.

His eyebrow arched and he handed me a cigarette and helped me light it with a look of satisfaction. I placed the cigarette between my lips and sucked in for the first time.

We sat there for a couple of hours where he asked me about life in Peoria. My coming out story. All of the questions that would become routine later for me when meeting a new person. I really felt at home and at ease with Finn. He had that charm that just made you feel like you belonged.

“So, ready to go to Roscoe’s and get our dance on?”

I smiled, heart beating loudly but my curiosity and body pushed my doubts to the back seat. Finn stood up, taking my hand as some kind of escort for tonight’s debauchery.

A tall burly bear of a bouncer was there looking just as annoyed and exhausted as the one I had such success with earlier in the night. He looked at my hands then at Finn. Then back at me.

“Hey Daryl, he’s with me,” he said as he wrapped his arm around my neck.

Daryl broke a slight smile. “You’re in good hands tonight, kid,” he said and nodded us through.

Once we got inside he led me to a side bar where two guys were waiting. They were just as young as we were. One was blonde, wearing a tank top that barely covered his body and a look that said everything annoyed him. The other a dark-haired guy with natural auburn highlights that had these brown eyes that made your ass twitch when he looked at you right.

“About time, where have you been, Finn?”

“Got tied up a bit at Lucky’s.”

“Dude,” Ricky laughed. “Not sure why you love that bar so much.”

Finn just shrugged his shoulders.

Ricky looked over at me, another inspection head to toe. My third.

“Though I can see why you took your time coming over.”

“Relax, just a friend,” Finn said with a smile.

“How good of a friend?” Ricky asked, looking at me. Something told me he wanted to be a friend too.

I just stood there blushing. I could then feel Finn’s hand on my shoulder massaging it as if to calm my nerves.

“Oh shit, Jace, I am being rude. This is Ricky and this is Decan.” Okay, so Decan is the one with pretty eyes. Noted, I thought. I nodded at each of them.

Decan focused on my hands.

“Oh, so you brought a baby out with you tonight,” he said teasingly.

“Yeah, so we are going to have to sneak him drinks.”

Ricky rolled his eyes but Decan put his arm around my waist.

“We got you. Let’s go top you off. Unless Finn already did that,” Decan said as he dragged me to the bar.

They ordered drinks and it became a normal run throughout the night of us waiting in line for a bathroom, making idle chit chat and looking bored. Then waiting for a stall to open up to usher me in and sneak a drink.

Each time with Finn, I kept wanting to feel his mouth on me again. With Ricky, it felt like an annoyed older brother obligated to babysit me for the evening. Then there was Decan. When he would take me I would just get quiet, just looking at his eyes or the way his body looked in his tight shirt.

We made our way to the patio, starting to feel my drinks. Finn offered me my second cigarette and we just sat around enjoying the summer breeze refreshing our bodies.

“So how do you guys know Finn?” I said, taking a drag and still coughing as I got used to the smoke hitting my lungs.

Ricky smoked his cigarettes. Something called Parliaments. Menthol. I would later hate menthol.

“Grindr,” he said, taking a puff and holding the cigarette like he was imitating Cruella de Vil. “What, two years ago?”

“Something like that,” Finn responded, looking at his phone.

“We hooked up. After he came in me we became buddies for life.”

I looked Ricky over. He was cute. But I thought Finn could do much better. Then looked at Decan waiting for his response.

“We worked together for like two months at Banana Republic about a year ago,” Decan said, smoking his Marlboro Lights. “Had a bad breakup and Finn took me out and showed me a good time.”

“I bet he did,” said Ricky with an annoying confidence.

“No, we never...” He said, taking a drag. “Not like you two sluts.”

Finn stuck his tongue out at Decan and his feigned judgment.

And then it happened.

Being part of club culture later, it is still hard to explain. There is the moment the right song calls you and your friends to the dance floor. Tonight it was Abracadabra by Lady Gaga for us.

The patio door opened and we could hear the opening beats. It was practically like gay panic as Finn grabbed my hand and said “LET’S GO,” leading me to the dance floor with the other guys following in tow.

The beat of the bass getting louder with each step as we moved closer to the center of the dance floor. I had never gone dancing before. I felt like everyone was watching me trying to jostle my body around to the beat.

All four of us were standing there facing each other. Ricky, drinking his drink and looking bored. The other two relaxing to the music. All dancing like they had made a career out of it.

I was just doing a step to the right. Moving my hands. Trying to mimic people around me.

I felt lame.

As the beat got to the chorus I could see Decan smirk watching me dance.

“You don’t dance much,” he said, leaning over.

I shook my head in defeat. Hating that I felt so new to all of this.

“Let me,” he said, moving behind me.

Decan then placed his hands on my waist and moved his body against mine. I could feel his firm pecs on my shoulder blades digging into me. The belt from his jeans pressing to the back of my lower back. And a lump of him pushing against my ass. All I could do was not breathe and swallow harder than I could ever remember.

He pressed into me and used his hands and waist to guide me to the beat.

Ricky still looked unimpressed with everything. Finn had a brief, ever slight look for just a moment that said Decan had taken something away from him, before surrendering to the song.

I cannot forget how that one song made me feel that night. It wasn’t just the beat or the warm body pressed against me. It was how I entered the song so awkward but by the end I was writhing my body like I had done this before.

Decan’s hands were briefly feeling parts of me before lifting my shirt off my body and tucking it in the back of my jeans. I hadn’t noticed that I was the only one by now that was not in this state of undress.

By the end of the next three songs, it was like I had done this for years. We danced harder, longer with each song. Moving our hips. Dropping it low and letting the sweat build and drop from our bodies.

Who was I? No matter what the answer was, I had this deep feeling that I wanted to see how far tonight would go.

The songs slowed down and Finn kept texting on his phone and Ricky brought me over a bottle of water and the first smile I’d seen in a bit.

“Stay hydrated. It’s going to be a long night.”

As I opened the bottle cap, which had for a moment been a struggle, I took a sip. Watching as Decan was talking to another group of boys. Dancing with them. Bringing out a tug in my chest that I couldn’t quite name.

I saw another boy grab him by the hand. Taller. Possibly cuter than me and lead him away. Leaving the dance floor colder than it should have felt.

“Hey,” Finn interrupted me with an impish smile on his face. “Mind if we go to a friend’s real quick? It isn’t far.”

“Sure,” I said, down for the ride.

“Ricky, you want to go to Nathan’s?”

“No, I am meeting some friends here in a few minutes. I’ll catch you a bit later.”

Ricky came over and gave me a hug, me rigid in the abrupt change in disposition, as he rubbed my back. “Stay close to Finn. He’s a good guy.”

I nodded before hugging him back. “Thanks, see you around,” I said, not thinking of something more clever.

Again, Finn’s hand grabbed mine and he led us out of the club and down a side street lined with three-story brick three-flats. Moving down the street like he was bending the night to his will, I walked side by side trying to keep up with his quick pace.

It wasn’t long at all until we stopped outside a house where you could see the blue LED lighting spilling out onto a front porch with a steady bass. Like the person had their own club inside.

Finn opened the door without hesitation and led us inside. There were a group of four or five people sitting around the living room. Looking relaxed, and there was a haze and strong scent of weed in the air.

Finn led us to the kitchen where a couple of people were waiting around. Everyone had a relaxed edge about them. He made us a drink as everyone talked to each other, just giving us a head nod as we made a drink and worked to keep our buzz going.

“Hey, wait here,” Finn said, giving me a look not to follow. And then went up the stairs.

I was surrounded by strangers. All talking to each other except one person who looked out of it and half asleep on the couch.

I looked at my phone then back at my drink. Taking sips to pass the time and give me comfort.

Finn returned, after turning what was a few minutes into something that felt like hours. He pulled me to the side of the kitchen, which was now empty. He looked more alert than when he left.

He grabbed my hand, pulling me closer. His mouth again only inches away. Time stopped again but this time warmer, more attentive. He kissed me there softly, gentle and caressing my chest between breaths.

God, I could get used to this.

He pulled off of me, looking in my eyes. “Hope you are having fun,” he said, looking for assurance.

“Me? Oh, of course,” I said.

He smiled. His hand moving gingerly around my right nipple.

“Good,” he said, biting his lip.

Just as he was about to give me another kiss I heard someone bounding down the stairs.

“Oh, hey Finn,” a low voice said. A guy in a black tank top with a dragon tattoo loudly displayed on his arm with a disarming smile.

“Is this the guy you were talking about?”

“Yeah. Nathan, meet Jace. Jace, meet Nathan,” he said.

“You are right, he is cute,” Nathan said, lingering around.

Again, I blushed.

Finn nodded, pulling me into a kiss that both confused me and woke up every part of my body. I could feel his warmth radiate. Then another warmth coming from beside me.

Where Finn pushed my head to the side, Nathan took over kissing me. Letting his tongue move into my mouth. He smelled like bath soap and incense mixed together. Beautifully.

Finn then started kissing my neck, holding my hand as a way to check in.

Nathan broke off his kiss with me.

“Fuck, you kiss as good as you look.”

My head fell a little. Not sure how to take his comment.

“Finn, why don’t you guys get started and I’ll be up in a moment,” Nathan paused. Kissed me again. “If that is okay with you, Jace.”

Fuck, they can do whatever they want.

Finn led me up the stairs and down a hallway. I could hear the window unit rattling as we entered Nathan’s bedroom. It had a large king-sized bed dominating the room and a tall antique dresser at the foot. We stopped at the foot of the bed. Finn caressing my cheek as he looked deep into my eyes.

“Jace. You don’t have to ever do anything you don’t want to.”

I nodded.

“Do you...”

“Yes,” I said, interrupting him.

He laughed and I laughed at how fast I responded.

“Question. Are you on anything for safety?”

I nodded again. “Yeah, my mom, when I came out, made sure to get me on PrEP.”

Finn smiled as he kissed me on the forehead. Then on my mouth again. Then made his way down my neck and then lifted my shirt.

“Have you ever?”

I shook my head no.

“Then let’s take it slow for you.” He then kissed me softly again. Then kissed his way down my chest to my loins. There he stopped and slowly undid my shorts letting them fall to the floor and sliding my underwear off until I was standing in a stranger’s room. Naked. Nowhere to go but to enjoy the moment.

“You’re so sexy, Jace,” he said as he took his clothes off and then closed the door but not all the way.

I smiled as we collapsed on the king-sized bed making out. Slow. Sensual. With the whole night ahead of us.

His tongue traced the outside of my torso until he buried his tongue and mouth into my armpits. Both savoring the smell and tasting me. Never thinking the spot could bring me to moan out loud.

He pushed himself on top of me, kissing my mouth and running his hands along my body. Looking down, I saw his dick. Nothing impressive, nothing not impressive. Just average. And somehow perfect. His cut cock looked like it had been crafted by an Italian artist. No flaws. A work of art.

I grabbed it, feeling how hard it was, forcing a sigh from deep inside his body. With his knees he spread my legs apart.

I needed this. I needed to see, just for tonight, how this felt.

He looked over for something. Stopping his focus before reaching over and grabbing a bottle of lube.

Seeing the bottle made me tense up. Was this the night?

Yes.

Yes it was.

I spread my legs for him and he looked at my exposed hole. Reaching for it quicker than he probably intended. I felt like my ass had this power over him. That it made him focus on nothing but us.

He lifted my legs up into the air and then dove tongue-first onto my hole.

The sensation of warm, wet flesh circling my hole made me grab the sheets and moan in pleasure.

I could hear the bass and laughter downstairs. Did they know, while talking about their plans for the weekend, that I was about to get fucked for the first time? No one cared about this moment except me.

For several minutes Finn’s attention never left my hole as he circled and swirled around it. Then teasing me with the tip of his tongue.

When it slid in, it felt better than years of trying to please myself with a finger or cheap toy I bought online.

I held back a moan, trying to keep it between Finn and me. Not share this moment.

Spreading me open wider with his tongue, flooding every sense inside me. I couldn’t think straight. I only knew that I needed more of him in me. Fast.

I pushed him off of me, a brief moment of panic showed on his face. Probably thinking I was stopping us. Maybe even afraid he pushed too far.

The way his body looked in the moonlight as it leaned between the blinds made me kiss him. No longer out of necessity but of raw desire.

“Please,” I said, barely above a whisper. “Fuck me, Finn. I need you to.”

All he could do was nod. His energy and mine both aligned for the first time before he raised my legs onto his shoulders before kissing me deeply. His cock starting to glide its shaft along my hole. I heard a bottle cap open. It should have sounded like nothing but to me it was like a car alarm in the dead of night.

The slick wet sound as he applied some to his dick, louder than a plane flying overhead.

Then nothing. Silence. Long silence before I felt the head push up against me.

Then my body started fighting what we were both doing. I wanted this more than anything but my body was not fully ready to accept something new.

He applied pressure slowly, popping inside my ring finally as I cried out in pain.

Finn stopped. Held me there.

“Tell me if you need me to pull out.”

Never.

I just looked at him, my lips between my teeth.

This was why I was here.

I grabbed his waist and pulled him in. Feeling myself being stretched open for the first time.

What the hell, this looks so much easier in porn.

Thinking he was halfway in, I felt he was only half in at best. I threw my head back in frustration.

Is this even possible? Maybe I’m not a bottom.

Then he kissed me. Holding steady while exploring my neck.

His mouth rested against my ear as he said, “I have wanted to be inside you since we met.”

That validation relaxed my body, letting him all the way inside in one final push. Both of us moaning together.

Him glad to be all the way in. Me glad he was my first.

As he held his spot I felt myself adjust to him. Widening its restraint as he started to thrust in and out. I could feel every nerve ending around my entrance go into sensory overload. He was hitting spots in me that I never knew could be activated as he slid in and out.

It is crazy to think now but I could feel every inch of him in me touching every wall inside me. As another moan escaped, my hands grabbed his back. I wanted more of this.

I wanted to tell Finn in that moment thank you for the night. Thank him for taking his time.

“Fuck me” was all I could say.

My legs firm on his shoulders he started to move all the way in and out. My dick, that had been soft while he was trying to get in, now rock hard. Leaking pre-cum like crazy. I felt a warm shock radiate from inside me as his angle changed.

That’s the prostate, I thought. Fuck, how does this even feel better?

My fingers dug into his back. I tried to move, adjusting my position to feel more of this. Not wanting him to stop.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he said. The words I didn’t want to hear.

I nodded my head. Wanting him to enjoy this.

“Cum in me...please, Finn. I need you to.”

All I could hear was a loud groan and felt his body go rigid. I swore I could feel each spurt erupt from him as it flooded my insides. A mix of warmth and satisfaction.

He lowered my legs, watching as sweat fell from his forehead down to his chest. It snaked its way down to a small bit of hair he had between his pecs.

So hot.

While we caught our breaths the door opened and Nathan came in. Holding a beer and a wicked smile.

“Looks like I missed the fun,” he said.

I could see a lump growing in his pants.

Finn’s mouth whispered into my ear. “Only if you want to.”

I answered Nathan with a nod, almost ignoring Finn’s words. He smiled, removing his tank top and approaching the bed.

Should I really keep going? This is what a slut is, right? Then I felt his lump and a long hard cock hiding under his pants. I looked up at his eyes and his desire.

Let me be a slut.

I quickly grabbed at his cock like a man possessed but not sure what I wanted. Was it him? No. Was it his body and cock? Yes.

I pulled down his pants releasing a cock that dwarfed Finn’s not by millimeters but by inches. All my planning and Excel sheets did not prepare me for this.

I felt scared. I wanted Finn because we had shared something and wanted him to be my first. But looking at Nathan, I never craved to just be used before. Nathan was never and would never be my type but in that moment I craved him. This wasn’t on the Excel sheet but needed to be. Size 48 font. Bold. Red.

I wasn’t sure what to do, just lying at the end of the bed pawing at his dick. I was still new to this, wanting to follow his lead. He took a swig of his Dos Equis before moving toward me, pulling me by my legs to the end of the bed before diving his mouth onto my hole.

I could feel a mix of Finn’s cum and Nathan’s beer-soaked mouth covering my hole. It started off cold from his drink then getting warmer as he explored. Tasting Finn inside me, digging more out with his tongue.

I could feel as he worked me over, Finn getting up and moving off the bed. I heard him sitting down. Watching over me. Being a voyeur and protector all in one. All while his friend stood at the end of the bed, lining up his cock ready to take his turn.

I could feel his head pushing into me. The head was easy. The problem was about an inch down as his meaty cock started to get its thickest. He tried to push in, much faster than Finn. I pulled my head back in pain.

“Easy, Nathan. He’s new,” Finn said.

Nathan nodded. Slowing down. Kissing my calf as he did. Surprisingly he slid in easier than I thought. His pubes resting on my ass. Holding it there.

While it didn’t hurt going in, the fullness was another thing. Where I could feel Finn hit every spot while thrusting, Nathan did it just by being inside. Every inch felt like it was expanding. Setting off my neural network like it was July 4th. And not even one thrust yet.

He reached to kiss me. Where Finn felt warm and exciting, Nathan burrowed into me with all the tenderness of a Gazelle being torn apart by a Hyena in heat.

Would my ass even be the same after this? Hopefully not.

He started pumping in and out. I could feel my already greased-up hole lubing him up. Spreading Finn’s presence onto him and making him easier to take with each thrust. My head looked back and Finn was watching. A face like a hawk, with a mix of emotions, all while stroking his cock.

Where Finn was gentle, Nathan went hard. Where Finn tried to enjoy, Nathan just wanted to get off.

For me, I just wanted to be used.

Nathan was pounding away. No more kisses. No gentleness. Just raw hard pounding.

I could hear his flesh slap against mine. The feel of his pubic bone digging at me. I started stroking my cock. Not needing lube with all the pre-cum.

I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last. Finn started the fire. But now there was a powder keg inside me ready to go off.

Nathan’s face had a determined, almost scary look as he dove in deeper. Not of violence, just in the way it contorted as he tried to get his nut off.

I leaned up on my elbows. Watching his hot muscular body just stretch me out. He didn’t care. I didn’t care that he didn’t either.

Cum in me, Nathan. Show me my body is getting you off.

Nathan didn’t warn me. He just grunted, dove deep, and pushed his load inside, adding it to Finn’s. The thought of their cum swimming side by side set me over the edge and rope after rope shot from my cock, covering an area from my navel to my sternum.

Then the sound from behind me of Finn blowing his nut one more time.

Nathan slid out, catching his breath and putting his shirt on like nothing had happened.

“That was hot. Def hit me up sometime,” he said, without giving me a number.

I laid there for a moment. My fingers inched toward my hole, not sure what it would feel like. As the tip of my finger felt the cum-messy entrance I felt satisfied.

Pushing the cum leaking out back into me. I knew two things. I was glad I didn’t stay in my hotel room. And that I was one happy slut.

We got dressed and before we left Finn gave me one final kiss. Pulling my hand as we went and found club after club. Friend after friend. Drink after drink.

Until on a patio outside a bar I’m not even sure where, lighting our cigarettes.

When I sat down after getting a light, the hard seat did no favors for my backside.

“Still sore?” Finn said, half laughing.

“Yeah,” I laughed. “Nathan was not the best for my first time.”

Finn had a brief look of insult before he laughed. “Yeah, not bad for your first pride.”

We sat there in silence enjoying a bit of quiet after the long night.

He took a long drag of his cigarette before looking at me.

“Well, you better suck it up. We have one more spot to go to.”

The way he said that made the night into a QVC commercial. But wait, there’s more.

I was tired but I would be lying to say I wanted to go home. This is what freedom felt like.

“Okay,” I said. “Where?”

Steamworks. It was a name I had heard casually brought up in conversations throughout the night like it was a code name for something. Some people wanted to end there, some said it with judgment. So I definitely needed to see this for myself.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s a bathhouse,” he said. Honestly, I didn’t know what that meant.

“A bath...”

“Like a gay sauna...where people have sex.”

We were having more sex? This seemed like excess.

“Sure. Why not!” I said. Not sure where the words came from.

“How does it work?”

Finn sat there smoking his cigarette, amused one last time at my newness. Something told me he enjoyed this role.

“You get a locker. Don’t worry about money. I know Jeff and he won’t bat an eye about letting us in for free.”

I sat back smoking and taking his tutelage in.

“You grab a towel, wrap it around your waist, and make sure to take your lock key with you. I usually attach it to my arm.”

“Okay, that seems easy. How does...”

“You’re just going to need to figure that out yourself. If someone is interested or you are, just let nature take its course.”

The instructions seemed simple enough but getting inside Steamworks it was like another universe had opened up. More than every bar and house we went to combined.

There were all types of guys walking around. Young. Old. Thin. Not so thin. Bears. Leather daddies. It was like every scene thrown into one debaucherous melting pot.

Every sin you could imagine was around you and available to you. Wall to wall sex.

Finn stayed at my side as I started exploring each room and level. I stopped at one door where a guy my age was playing with his ass. He gave me a nod which I took as an invitation. I started to step forward but then as I reached the door I saw the X on my hand. Stopping myself. I turned to Finn for guidance and he was gone. No words. Just separated and on my own.

I kept walking, listless. Seeing a door open with guys fucking. Groups of guys standing around a guy in a sling. The smell of poppers. Sounds of sex. There was a certain warmth and smell that dug into your skin. Like bleach and sex with a hint of poppers.

The sounds of moans felt like they were getting louder and a chorus that drowned out every rational thought. My heart was beating against my chest, I swore I could hear it over the bass of the club music blasting around us.

I needed to sit. Regroup.

I finally made my way to a couch, with TVs around it playing porn. The cold leather touching my thighs pulled me from my haze.

Looking over, there was only one other guy. Who looked like he was in far worse shape than I was.