Uneven

By Anah Crow

Rase Illion is a middle-aged captain of industry, a restrained man with

a spotless reputation just emerging from the shadow of his vicious,
driven father. Since his father's death, Rase has been living like the
old man was still alive, keeping up appearances with his trophy wife
and appropriately luxurious house. Which is when Rase meets Gabriel.
Gabriel loses his temper during his first meeting with Rase and lashes
out, which unleashes Rase's carefully hidden submissive and
masochistic tendencies. His encounter with Gabriel snaps Rase out of
his sleepwalking life, and he sets about remaking his world in his own
way. Rase isn't the only one shaken by their encounter, though. Can
he convince Gabriel to give their relationship a chance?

Chapter One

"Prototypes from our Jakarta factory are on their way up." Rase Illion
leaned back in his chair and adjusted the heavy white gold chain
around his left wrist. He hated jewelry, but something had to balance
out the weight of the white gold and sapphire watch around his right
wrist. Rase liked balance in his life. He took a moment to survey the
people sitting evenly spaced around the oval table. Under duress, he
could remember their names, but he rarely bothered to do so.

All fourteen of them were here for him, waiting on him. None of them
harbored any illusions that they were anything but cogs in the
industrial machine that Rase had built. Each of them represented
thousands of human beings, men and women, who made Rase's
machine run smoothly; that was all that gave them significance. Rase
had no fondness for any of them, less fondness than he felt for the
actual machinery. It was the massive beasts of steel that he came to
see when he visited his factories. Rase preferred steel to flesh.

Rase's meditations were interrupted by a rude klaxon from down the

hall. Someone had set off the metal detector again. Rase set them off
from time to time himself, forgetting that they were there for his own
safety. When he was reminded, he was less irritated by the noise and
more pleased that he was carrying on the family tradition of being
someone who merited such things as assassination attempts.

It had begun with his father, of course, and Rase hardly blamed
anyone for that. Himself, he did his best to do better than his father,
while keeping the shareholders happy, but the cruelties of the
economy left no one happy some days, and he was an easy target. He
should have minded, but he sometimes had trouble mustering up a
great deal of concern over whether he lived or died.

"Excuse me." Rase got to his feet before anyone else had worked out
the source of the sound. "Since I'm the cause of all this inconvenience,
it only seems fair that I take care of it."

That got him a general chuckle from around the table, and the wash of
relief that passed over the senior staff was almost visible. Rase gave
them all a charming grin and let himself out. He could see all the way
down to the elevators from here; he always liked a clear line of sight
to the exits, no matter where he was.

At the end of the hall, four security guards had a lanky young man up
against the wall. The boxes he'd been bringing up had already passed
through the X-ray machine and one stood open; one of the guards
must've been doing a manual check. Rase liked that he'd been able to
impress upon them the importance of such random inspections.

"What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?" Rase sauntered down

the hall, hands in his pockets, ruining the line of his expensive suit in
favor of looking as casual as only he could afford to do.

"Sorry for the noise, sir," the senior guard said. Rase thought the
fellow's name was Bob; in fact, he distinctly remembered having called
him Bob on more than one occasion and no one had seen fit to correct
him if he was wrong. That was good enough for Rase. "Kid's got
something in his pockets."

The 'kid' was wearing pants with enough pockets that Rase wasn't
surprised that he'd forgotten something in one of them. Sure enough,
one of the guards dug around in a pocket down by the kid's left ankle
-- Rase wondered why you'd need a pocket down there, but he
supposed you did if there was something in it -- and came up with a
pair of handcuffs, of all things.

"Damn." The kid turned around when they let him go, looking irritated.
Rase expected that being pinned up against the wall and searched
should engender a certain amount of discomfort, even fear, but there
was nothing like that in the stockboy's face. "I knew I forgot
something."

Rase reached out and plucked the handcuffs from the guard's hand;
they were warm from the young man's body, and Rase thought he
could smell the steel. "I do think that one would be hard-pressed to
forget that one was carrying a pair of these about, unless you tend to
moonlight as a police officer." He let them hang from one finger, trying
to ignore the heat in his belly at the sight of them. "And haven't they
gone to using those plastic zip-ties?"

The young man shrugged. "Nothing wrong with the classics," he said.
"Mind if I have them back now?"

There was only the slightest inflection that made that a question, and
Rase almost obeyed without thinking. He dropped the handcuffs in the
pocket of his suit jacket instead of handing them back, trying to
maintain control of the situation. "I do mind," he said. "Take the boxes
to the conference room. You can have them back after work; we can't
have you setting off metal detectors all day."

The younger man stood there for a moment, looking Rase over as
though he were weighing him, sizing him up. It was an uncomfortable
feeling. Then he looked Rase in the eye and nodded, the way Rase did
when he was giving someone permission. "Sure thing," he said lightly.
"I'll pick them up later." He picked up the boxes easily, for all that
they were full of metal parts, and went about Rase's business as he
was told.

"Thank you, gentlemen," Rase said to the guards. Their bowed heads
and mumbled replies gave Rase back a little of his composure, filling
him with a flood of relief.

Jingling the handcuffs in his pocket to remind himself that he was still
in control, Rase took his time returning to the conference room. They
could wait for him. It was good to make people wait once in a while,
so that they didn't forget who set the pace of things.

***

The sun outlined the landscape of the city, up here where Rase lived.
Sometimes, he couldn't see the streets below for the clouds, gray and
stringy, that filled the canyons between skyscrapers. Cigar in one hand
and scotch in the other, everything balanced, he sat back in his huge
chair and felt like King of the Mountain.

A small chime brought his attention back to the office behind him.
Rase spun his chair around slowly and prodded the intercom button on
his phone with his little finger. "Yes?"

"There's someone here to see you from the warehouse," Allen said.
His voice had that smooth gloss of disapproval over it, and Rase could
see the expression on his face without actually needing to look at it to
know what it was. Allen was an excellent secretary, half guard dog and
half fashionista. Rase liked him as well as he liked anyone, maybe
more because Allen was such an undemanding constant in his life. "He
says you have something of his."

"Right." Rase told himself that he had almost forgotten about this
morning's encounter, for all that his fingers kept straying to the
smooth curves of the metal in his pocket. "Send him in."

"As you wish." Allen's intonation was better suited for something like,
"Do you know where that's been?" Still, there was a low buzz as the
lock on the office door was released. A moment later, the stockboy let
himself into the room.

"Close the door behind you," Rase said.

The young man did, and he came across the room to Rase's desk
without hesitation, shoulders loose and hands uncurled at his sides.
There was nothing defiant about his indolence -- not the way that
Rase saw it in his own son, who was a few years younger -- as if
defiance would have acknowledged that there was something to resist.
"May I have what's mine now?" He stopped just a foot in front of
Rase's desk and looked Rase in the eye.

Rase put his cigar into the heavy black glass tray in front of him and
leaned back in his chair to feel around in his pocket for the handcuffs.
"Here you go." He could have pushed them across the desk, he could
have thrown them, but instead he held fast to them and waited to see
if the stockboy would come and take them from his hand.

"Thanks," the young man said as he came around the desk. He

hooked a finger through both rings and stood there without pulling
them out of Rase's hand. When the connection became unbearable,
Rase let go. "Won't happen again," the young man said easily, as if
this strange tension that Rase felt affected him not at all.

"I do hope that you weren't asked to bring those to work for any
reason," Rase said, reaching for a sardonic grin to cover his
discomfort.

The young man spun both rings around his forefinger, making them
sing against each other. "No," he said. "They make us bring our own
box cutters, but the handcuffs are purely optional."

"Good," Rase said. "I'd hate to think that my employees were wasting
my time with games."

The handcuffs stopped spinning and hung from the young man's
finger, rocking slightly. "I don't play games."

Rase pulled his eyes away from the metal reflecting the sunlight and
looked up at the young man. "What do you do, then?" He was the one
who was defiant, mentally kicking against the yearning in his gut,
trying to break it into something manageable that he could smother.
He reached for his cigar.

His fingers had just brushed the dry, brown, leafy wrapper when
something struck his wrist, something cold and metal. There was the
gnashing of metal teeth on metal and then he wore a second bracelet
next to the first, scratched and battered steel next to the gold.

"This." The young man's hand was a fist on the chain between the
cuffs; the second half of the pair gaped open like a mouth waiting to
be sated.

Rase waited to get angry, but it never came. It was derailed by a wave
of need and then a shock of horror that did nothing to stop the rush of
blood to his groin. His mouth was dry, and the ice in his scotch rang
against the crystal like mocking bells. His hand was shaking. Ever so
carefully, he reached across himself to set the glass down on the
blotter.

"I hope you have the key," Rase said. At least his voice hadn't
betrayed him yet. When he dragged his gaze up to the young man's
indifferent face, that was when his voice refused to follow the next
command, the demand that he be released.
"Always." The emptiness in the man's expression almost brought Rase
to despair.

Rase held out his free hand, palm up, waiting for the key. "Glad you
know what you're doing."

The younger man moved like a cat, sudden and certain. Later, Rase
would wonder if he were really asking for the key or offering his other
wrist to the mouth of the cuff that snapped around it.

"I know what I'm doing." The stockboy still had a grip on the chain
between the cuffs. "That makes one of us."

"I appreciate the demonstration." Out of nowhere, Rase's voice came

back and brought with it the rush of anger he'd been waiting for. That
he could rise above the need churning in his belly was an intense
relief. "It was very educational. Now, I'd appreciate it if you let me
go."

"As you wish." The young man did an excellent mimicry of Allen. He
pulled out the key on a chain around his neck, pulling the chain off
over his head and shaking out his hair as he did.

Rase looked at him, really looked for the first time, looked up the flat
plains of chest and belly, the column of the throat, and saw a too-
intelligent face framed by a tumble of sun-streaked brown curls in
need of a trim. The eyes, focused on the key in the lock instead of on
Rase, were the color of a clean river in summer.

"Thank you," Rase said. He rubbed lightly at his wrists once the cuffs
were off. "So," he said, reaching for his scotch again. "Do I owe you
anything for that?"

The entire world shifted, and it took Rase moment to realize that he'd
been hit. His mouth tasted like blood. The back of the young man's
hand had crushed Rase's lips between knuckles and teeth. Rase
swallowed and dragged his unhinged gaze back to the young man's
face. The expression hadn't changed.

"I'm not the whore here." There was no anger in the young man's
voice, simply the tone of one correcting a mistake that was going to
be made sooner or later.
Rase had nothing to say to that. One disbelieving hand found its way
to his mouth, and the fingers fluttered there against his lip a moment
before they came away wet. He looked down to see the red on his
skin, and his world was rocked again, hard enough to send his chair
squeaking backwards.

"Say it."

Rase regained his balance and focused again. There was a red button
under the edge of his desk; he could see it out of the corner of his
eye. All he had to do was press it. He could press it, and this would all
be over. He could see the scene in his mind's eye, played out in an
instant. The guards would come, the police would come, they'd cuff
the young man and take him away.

Rase knew that he wouldn't look back. Allen would fill out any
necessary paperwork, and the world would close back over this instant
as though it never occurred. Rase would bite his lip to feel it, to taste
the blood, and roll the memory of the impacts through his mind when
he wanted to get hard.

"You're not the whore here." In a moment, he told himself that it was
a concession made out of politeness. Rase was nothing if not polite.

"As long as we're clear." The kid reached out and swiped his fingers
across Rase's mouth, bringing them away bloody.

"I think we are." Rase reached for his scotch and managed to get it in
hand this time. It stung when he took a sip, the heat going right to his
cock and making it throb and thicken.

"Good to know. I like to maintain a positive working relationship

wherever I am." The young man brought his fingers to his mouth and
licked them clean. Rase felt like the bottom had dropped out of his
stomach. "May I go now?"

No . Rase hardly heard the question but he knew the answer. No. "Of
course," he heard himself say. "Thank you for the demonstration." It
was everything he could do not to shake, not to whine, and he
wondered if he was in shock. Could you go into shock from something
like this?

"Anytime." There was no smile, no jesting in the response, and that

made it worse. Mockery might have shaken Rase out of this new state,
but there was only permission there. Please, let it be permission. The
young man didn't look back on his way out the door.

Before the door closed, Allen poked his head around. "Everything
okay, sir?"

Rase pressed the cold glass to the bloody side of his mouth and turned
his chair back toward the window, staring out through the tinted glass.
"Everything's fine, Allen. You can go; I'm done for the day."

"Yes, sir." After all this time, Allen knew damn well that when Rase
said he was done for the day, he was done, even if it was eight o'clock
in the morning.

The door clicked shut and, as if on cue, Rase's hands started to shake
so much that he spilled scotch over his lip and down his chin. His
mouth throbbed, his jaw ached, and his dick was straining at the front
of his pants. Rase looked down at himself to see his Egyptian cotton
shirt stained pale pink with scotch and blood. He was bleeding.

The glass didn't make it back to the desk when Rase reached out to
put it down, but he hardly registered it hitting the chair-mat and
rolling away. He touched his mouth again, then brought his fingers
away so that he could look at them and see his blood on them. Before
he knew it, he was sliding them into his own mouth with a moan.

Blindly facing the city, legs splayed as wide as his chair would allow,
Rase fumbled with his belt and clawed the front of his pants open
while he sucked the salt of his own blood off of his fingers. When he
found his cock, he whined and arched into his own touch. His
unfocused eyes caught the image of his reflection on the inside the
window's mirrored glass.

There he was, Rase Illion, raven-haired, leonine captain of industry, as

the magazines liked to say, fisting his own cock desperately and
sucking on his fingers like a whore sucking cock for a fix. There was no
doubt who the whore was here, and the thought made him moan. He
let go of his cock long enough to shove his pants down all the way to
his ankles, writhing down in his chair to spread his knees apart
further.

When he grabbed his cock again, he pulled his fingers out of his mouth
and reached down behind his balls to ram them mercilessly into his
ass. His heels scraped and the chair rocked back until it hit the desk.
Biting at his bleeding lip to keep the blood and pain fresh, he brought
his hips up so that he could get his fingers deeper.

"Please." He didn't have enough hands to keep himself silent. "Oh,

please."

Rase couldn't come. His cock was slick with pre-come, his hand slid up
and down it with obscene noises, his ass clenched around his fingers,
and his balls were so tight he wanted to cry, but he couldn't come. He
couldn't come even when he lifted his hips and pushed a third finger in
so fast that he thought he was going to split wide open.

"Please," he whimpered. He conjured the stockboy up in his mind,

bringing back that whip-lean body and that indifferent, beautiful face.
"Please…" Rase didn't even know his name.

His chair rocked back against the desk as he pumped his hand and
fingers, crashing rhythmically and making everything on it chime. The
head of his cock was purple and swollen; Rase clenched the shaft and
made a fresh, clear flood well up from the slit. Grunting, he ground his
hips down to push his dry fingers in as deep as he could.

"Oh, God." Rase dug in his heels and pushed back so hard that his
hips came up out of the chair; he was desperate to come. "I'm the
whore here," he gasped.

The first shot of come hit him in the face, and he let out a wail. "I'm
the whore." His whole body jerked between the fingers crammed up
his ass and the fist wrenching at his cock. Strings of come splashed his
face and neck and he kept whining, "I'm the whore," until his words
were gone and all he could do was sob.

Chapter Two

Life became nightmarish. Rase felt as though the careful sutures of his
repression had split and the infection that he'd tried to contain for so
long was seeping out faster than he could wipe it off his skin. He
looked at himself in every reflective surface, searching for the signs
that had given him away. Nothing but his own face, lined slightly here
and there with age and sallow with anxiety, ever looked back at him.
There were no answers.

Rase took his private jet to Mumbai, ostensibly to inspect some

potential property, but really because no one knew him there. He
rejected the offers of his various officers in the area when they invited
him on tours or to dinners. He wandered collapsing factories and
wonder if they, or he, were salvageable. The factories were cheap and
insignificant enough that he could take his chances; his reputation, not
so much so.

Returning home filled him with dread. His house on the hill was
immense but not large enough to hide him from his family. Even when
he sought refuge in his study, his wife found him there.

"You're not ready to go?" She stood in the doorway dressed in some
gown that cost more than most people made in a month, her white-
blonde hair swept up to enhance her severity. Her mouth was a
sculpted crimson slash across her designer face. Rase couldn't look at
her for more than a moment. "The Faradays are expecting us." He
wondered if he were imagining the disdain in her voice, if it had
always been there, or if she knew something now that she did not
before.

"I'm not going." He was still wearing the clothes he had on when he
left Mumbai. "I'm not feeling well."

"Are you drunk?"

Now he knew he wasn't imagining the disdain. "No." He didn't turn to

look at her. "I must have picked something up on my trip. It'll pass."

"I'll give them your regards," she said in a tone that suggested she
would do nothing of the sort. When she left, he could hear the angry
tattoo of her heels on the travertine floor long after she'd slammed the
door. He didn't care. She was the one from whom he had least to fear.

Rase hadn't come since that day in his office when everything had
fallen apart, not while he was awake. He woke every morning in
unfamiliar hotel beds drenched with sweat and come. He woke in the
night, moaning and startled out of sleep by his hands around his own
swollen dick.
When he woke before coming he would lie there in the dark, hands
clenched in the sheets, and will himself back to sleep. If he stayed
awake, he would start thinking about the stockboy and his silver-steel
cuffs and his indifferent violence. He couldn't keep his hands off of
himself if he did that, and his mind would spiral down into a morass of
degradation and submission that he couldn't allow.

It was dark and Rase was sitting there in his study, rigid in his chair
with his hands clenched into fists, staring at nothing. He looked at his
watch to find out the time but found nothing there at all. Since that
day, he'd stopped putting things around his wrists. The watch and the
bracelet aroused him mercilessly.

Rase wanted to cry. Sometimes, in the shower, curled in on his hard

cock and his sick stomach, he did. He'd been so careful to give it all
up. So careful since he'd gotten hurt at a filthy dungeon where he'd
gone to hide his sickness, so careful since his father's money made it
all go away after the ambulance and the paramedics and the police.
Even to that moment, the smell of mildew turned him on with a flood
of memories; so did the ache in his shoulders where they'd been
repaired.

How did the stockboy know ? What if everyone could see it on him?
Rase's mind fondled the combination to the gun safe even while his
hand reached for his laptop. Self-preservation walked him through the
steps of logging into his own security system and finding the name of
the employee who'd set off the alarms that day.

Chariton. Gabriel Chariton. He'd said anytime.

***

Rase had the good sense to have his limousine drop him off at la
Cuchina. He didn't step inside, merely gestured for the maître d' to call
him a cab. The wind whipped a spring rain under the canopy, but Rase
hardly noticed save for the pleasure of the sting when a gust threw
droplets into his face.

Gabriel lived on a terrible side of town. Rase knew it because he had

at least one factory down here; he couldn't remember anymore how
many he had in what cities. Working down in the stock room at the
main office would have been a step up from here.
Rase paid the cabbie and got out in spite of the man's warning. He
stood there on the graffitied sidewalk, next to a trashcan chained to a
struggling sapling, and clenched his hands in his pockets until his nails
parted the skin of his palms. The pain was nothing, but the surge of
need it unleashed spurred Rase into movement.

Gabriel's apartment was on the fourth floor. Rase stepped over bags of
trash and a curled up body on the way up. His momentum was enough
to take him right to the door. He stopped and stepped out of the way
so that he couldn't be seen through the peep hole while he worked up
the nerve to knock.

It was knock or go home and die. Rase knocked.

The door opened with such alacrity that Rase wondered whether
Gabriel had been standing on the other side, drawn to the door by the
same uncanny instinct that had inspired him to torment Rase.

"You said anytime," Rase said, before Gabriel could say anything.

"I did." Gabriel seemed unperturbed at having his employer show up

at his door. He stepped back to let Rase in.

Rase had been expecting something in keeping with the rest of the
building. Instead, Gabriel's apartment was shabby but spotless. It was
one main room with a niche for the kitchen and a tiny bathroom that
Rase could see through a narrow door that stood ajar. He walked to
the center of the room and found himself only feet from Gabriel's bed,
a sizable bed with a heavy iron frame. That stopped him in his tracks,
and he stood there, wondering what to do with himself.

"Beer?" Gabriel was so close that Rase could feel Gabriel's breath on
his hair.

"This isn't a social call," Rase said, not even trying to keep his voice
steady.

"Then why are your clothes still on?"

Rase started undressing before he thought to argue with himself.

There was nothing left to hide. That he was here had unmanned him
completely. Habit sorted out his clothing for him. Was it answers he
wanted, or more of the same? He didn't think he could survive without
either, so wondering or hesitating were irrelevant reactions.

He was folding his shirt, down to nothing but his briefs, when metal on
metal caught his attention. His focus snapped to the pair of rings
shining in Gabriel's hand. His cock, half-hard since he left the house,
swelled, and the sensitive head strained against his thin white briefs.
Rase fought back a moan as he watched Gabriel swing the cuffs back
and forth slowly on one finger.

"All the way." Gabriel looked mildly interested in the proceedings this
time, his eyes traveling over Rase's broad shoulders and bare chest
and flat belly, following the fine line of hair down as Rase pulled down
his briefs. "Here." Gabriel held out his hand for the briefs.

Rase was naked and hard, but he didn't really feel bare until he
reached out and put the briefs in Gabriel's hand. Gabriel tucked them
into the pocket of his jeans, and that was when Rase saw the ridge of
Gabriel's hard-on distorting the button fly. The sight was like a gut
punch; it sent air out of Rase with a soft noise. For the first time,
when his eyes snapped to Gabriel's face to see whether or not
punishment was coming, he saw Gabriel smile. This time, he whined
softly in the back of his throat, his whole body yearning for whatever
Gabriel had to offer.

Gabriel walked right by him and Rase dropped his eyes. Shame rushed
through him; he was so easy, such a whore. His traitorous dick stood
up at a sharp angle, pre-come glistening at the tip already. It was so
easy to get him wet.

A crash behind him startled Rase out of his loop of loathing. Gabriel
stood there, one hand on the back of a metal kitchen chair. "Sit." It
was an order, not an invitation.

Rase sat down, schooling his face so that the sting of the cold metal
on his skin wouldn't show in his expression. The tapping of metal on
metal was Gabriel rapping the handcuffs on the back of the chair. Rase
put his hands behind himself before he could be chastised, setting his
feet apart so that his arches pressed against the legs of the chair. He
was rewarded by the chatter of the cuffs as they closed around his
wrists.

Suddenly, he was so dizzy that it was a good thing he was sitting

down. He leaned back in the chair heavily; even if he'd been kneeling,
he would've fallen. Gabriel's hand, knotted painfully in his hair,
steadied him. Rase was afraid that he was going to come right then
and there. He closed his eyes, hoping the room would stop spinning.
There was a weight across his thighs, crushing them into the edges of
the chair.

Gabriel sat in his lap, facing him, and Rase opened his eyes to look
straight into Gabriel's. His cock was trapped between Gabriel and his
own body, pressed so close that wetness smeared onto his belly.
Gabriel leaned in and kissed him -- hot and messy, all teeth and
tongue -- clenched his hand in Rase's hair, and used it to push Rase's
mouth into his relentlessly, his hips rocking and grinding the fly of his
jeans painfully against the underside of Rase's cock.

Rase whined and writhed, trying to get closer, feeling the handcuffs
already beginning to bruise his wrists. More, please. Eyes closed, he
was blind and desperate.

His head was jerked back and Gabriel slapped him in the face, hard.
Before he could react, Gabriel's mouth was on his again, teeth tearing
into Rase's lips, drawing blood. Gabriel grabbed one of Rase's nipples
and twisted cruelly, riding him hard, biting him, stealing his breath
with a smothering kiss.

Rase came, painting his own belly and chest with it, making wordless,
animal noises into Gabriel's mouth. Oh, God. So easy. And so good; a
long, hot orgasm that wrung his balls out and left him shaking.
Gabriel's mouth was gone, then his hand cracked across Rase's face
again, making Rase's balls tighten and his cock dribble more come
onto his belly. He deserved that.

Gabriel's weight lifted off of him, and when Rase managed to open his
eyes he was looking down at his softening cock and the come slowly
running down his belly to bead in his pubic hair. He stank of sex and
sweat and metal, and he wanted more. How did Gabriel know what he
needed so badly when Rase hardly dared admit it to himself?

Questions. Rase jerked his head up and looked around the room for
Gabriel. The man was leaning on the rail at the end of the bed, licking
his fingers; there were dark, wet blotches on his faded blue T-shirt
where Rase's come had landed.

"How did you know?" Rase had to try twice before the question came
out in one piece. "In my office…"

Gabriel walked over slowly and tugged Rase's head back by the hair,
looking down at him. "I knew in the hall," he said easily. "When you
had the cuffs. Your eyes…" He grinned wickedly at Rase, and Rase
knew that the churning terror in his gut must have come out on his
face. "You have to know what to look for. I know your type." Gabriel
jerked Rase's head back painfully, then let go.

"I don't… I don't have a type," Rase said, and it came out as a whisper
on the edge of tears instead of a denial.

"Hell, yes, you do." Gabriel laughed at him. "See, I used to be a

whore. That's how I know I'm not now. And I know your type. What's
wrong, Mr. Illion? Your usual down with the flu? Club closed?" He
sauntered closer as he spoke, checking his fingernails, stripping dried
blood out from under one of them. "Don't tell me you don't have a
type." The back of his hand caught Rase across the face and rocked
Rase's head back so hard his neck cracked.

"I don't." Rase knew better than to argue, but it was so desperately
important that Gabriel understand, that someone understand. He was
cold -- the heat in Gabriel's apartment was low, and the metal of the
chair was leeching the warmth from Rase's body. His shoulders burned
and he was starting to tremble, but none of that mattered if Gabriel
didn't understand. "I don't go to people like that. I don't do this
anymore."

Rase looked up just in time to see Gabriel's hand come down again.
Blood spattered on Rase’s right thigh with the impact. The next thing
that Rase knew, Gabriel was unlocking the cuffs.

"No…" the word was out before Rase could stop it. Gabriel grabbed
him by the hair and threw him onto the floor. Rase caught himself on
hands and knees. When his eyes focused again, he was dripping blood
from somewhere onto the faded linoleum. "Please."

There was a long, painful silence. Rase's arms trembled, and he was
afraid that he was going to fall forward onto his face. He could see
Gabriel's bare feet at the edge of his vision. Please.

Rase shifted, daring to move when Gabriel did not. He moved just
enough that he could put his mouth on the top of Gabriel's foot. There
was blood in his mouth and he was shaking now, but he kissed
Gabriel's foot tenderly, the way he would kiss the mouth of someone
he loved.

"Get your belt."

Rase wanted to cry. He swallowed down a sob and forced himself to

leave Gabriel's feet.

Gabriel hadn't told him to crawl, but Rase couldn't bring himself to
stand. His knees ached as he crossed the room, and he savored every
moment. By the time he reached his pile of clothes, his head was
swimming. It never occurred to him to pick the belt up with his hands.
He took it with his teeth, just below the buckle, and brought it back to
Gabriel like a snake he'd slain.

Rase laid the belt across Gabriel's feet, then sat back on his heels with
his palms still flat on the floor. There was a smear of blood where he'd
kissed Gabriel's foot, and he wanted to lick it off but that wasn't his
place. It was so hard to sit still when he was still boiling over with
need. Orgasm was an almost humiliating consequence of getting what
he needed, but nothing ended just because he came.

Gabriel bent and picked up the belt. Rase had to bite his lip to keep
from whimpering.

"Hands on the chair." Rase crawled over and grabbed the seat of the
chair. He could hear his own breath rasping as though it came from
some wounded animal in the shadows. A cuff snapped around one
wrist and Rase was jerked forward, his cheekbone hitting the back of
the chair, as Gabriel did up the cuffs.

Head ringing, Rase lay still and let Gabriel have him. He was trying to
slow his breath when he realized that it wasn't just his own breathing
he was hearing, it was Gabriel's. The realization made him moan
inadvertently; he shoved his mouth against his own bicep to stifle it.
Gabriel's hand in his hair jerked his head back, and the last of the
moan came out loud and clear in the quiet room.

Gabriel stood behind and over him, feet on either side of the chair,
and bent down to kiss him again, twisting Rase's head back to get at
his mouth. He kissed Rase hard, swallowing down all the other sounds
he was making Rase make. Gabriel's mouth tasted like iron and need;
Rase sucked desperately at his tongue. He writhed a little under
Gabriel, setting his knees further apart, arching his back, and tilting
his hips like he was begging to be fucked.

Gabriel wasn't silent anymore. He was making noises to match Rase's

own, and they were like gasoline on the fire in Rase's belly. The chair
scraped against the floor as they kissed, forcing Rase to tighten his
arms so it wouldn't slide away. His arms and neck were in agony but
he didn't care. He just wanted more of this.

When Gabriel grabbed both of his nipples and twisted them hard,
pulling his mouth away from Rase's as he did, Rase startled himself
with his own scream. Gabriel was panting in his ear and he twisted so
hard again that Rase was sure there would be blood, but when Rase
screamed a second time, it was still all pleasure.

Gabriel made these soft little shocked noises over and over again in
Rase's ear as he let the pressure off. Rase thought he could come just
from that alone, knowing he did that to Gabriel the way Gabriel did it
to him. Rase's breath came in ragged sobs when Gabriel let go of him.
He couldn't tell if he was crying or if the wetness on his cheeks was
tears of pain. He rubbed his face against the seat of the chair,
whining, desperate for contact now that Gabriel was gone.

The sound of the air being cut by leather was the only warning he had,
too late, that a blow was coming. Rase grunted as his own belt came
down across his shoulders in a searing line. "Please," he begged as he
heard the belt come down again. Oh, God, he was hard. He pressed
his face against the seat of the chair, clung to the bars of the back,
and let the belt force primal sounds of pleasure out of him with every
strike.

Rase's back was burning, his knees were going to be bruised from
kneeling, the seat of the chair under his face was wet with tears. His
mouth was pressed against it, drawing shapes of diluted blood as he
babbled senselessly through the beating. He'd long since passed the
point of too much, but he had years of longing to fulfill. When the
blows stopped, he was shaking so hard that the chair rattled against
the floor. His thighs were wet with pre-come.

Gabriel grabbed the handcuffs by the chain between them and jerked
them upward, lifting them up and over the back of the chair. The pain
in Rase's shoulders was so intense he thought he was going to vomit
from it; he scrambled to his feet before it got worse, but his hard-on
never faded. Gabriel unlocked both the cuffs and then backhanded him
with the hand that held the pair, sending Rase reeling until he fell
against the foot of the bed.

"Fuck me." That was Gabriel's voice. Rase looked around, still clinging
to the rail at the foot of the bed for support, and found Gabriel taking
off his clothes.

"You… I…" That was wrong. It was all backward.

Gabriel was even more beautiful nude. He looked like a statue of

David, not bulky but muscled, and all in perfect proportion, except
that the Greeks didn't sculpt their men with raging hard-ons. He came
back to Rase and snapped a handcuff onto one of Rase's wrists. He
used the chain to pull Rase upright and turn him toward the bed so
that Gabriel could get the other wrist shackled.

"This isn't about you." Gabriel walked around the bed and laid down
on it. Rase leaned against the rail and watched as Gabriel pulled a butt
plug and lube out from under the pillows.

In all his dreams, in all his experience, Rase had never done anything
like this; he had never watched his tormentor spread out in front of
him, cramming an impossibly thick plug that made Rase feel
deliciously inadequate up his ass, moaning the entire time as though
Rase weren't even there at all.

Watching did nothing to make his own need fade. Unconsciously, Rase
rocked his hips to slide his cock against the cold metal support bars at
the end of Gabriel's bed, panting open-mouthed as he watched.

Gabriel fucked himself until Rase was shaking. With his free hand, he
kept wiping pre-come from the head of his cock and licking it off of his
fingers as he rode that huge plug. With a last groan that Rase was
afraid marked his orgasm, Gabriel pulled the plug out and tossed it
aside.

"Fuck me," Gabriel said, again. His eyes were hot on Rase's. "I want to
come with a cock in me."

Rase came around and crawled awkwardly up on the bed. He had no

idea how he was going to do this with his hands cuffed behind his
back, but he couldn't say no to Gabriel. He shuffled forward until he
was between Gabriel's knees, his breath coming in shuddering sobs,
and he leaned in slowly.

Rase ended up with his cheek pressed to Gabriel's chest over his
heart, moving while Gabriel's hands guided him into place. Something
in the back of his head whined and dithered about condoms, but he
couldn't stop. As he slid into Gabriel's body, his cheek slid against
Gabriel's skin, slick with his own tears and blood and mucus, and his
muscles thrummed with the effort of keeping in control.

Somehow, they fit together, Gabriel's thighs around him, Rase half-
resting on Gabriel's body. Oh, God, all the heat around him was
heaven. Rase started to move, rocking his hips to fuck Gabriel. When
Gabriel wrenched Rase's head up and back with hands in his hair,
Rase whined and jerked, shifting frantically to keep his balance.

"Look at me." The words were as good as a slap; Rase looked at him.
Gabriel was flushed and hot-mouthed and glassy-eyed, half-gone
already. "If you come, it's over. Do you hear me?" Gabriel let go of
Rase's hair, and Rase had to shift again to kneeling almost upright; he
barely had his balance when Gabriel's open palm cracked across his
cheek. "Understand?"

"Yes." Rase swallowed blood. "I understand."

"Good." Gabriel moved to get both his legs up over Rase's shoulders.
"Now make me come."

It was torture of the highest order. Rase's breath dried his throat out
like the desert as he fucked Gabriel the way he was dying for Gabriel
to fuck him. Gabriel arched and twisted under him, hands roaming his
own body, pinching his nipples delicately and scraping his nails over
the inside of his own thighs. His skin was like dark cream, his
proportions perfect.

Rase moaned and whined as he fucked Gabriel, desperate to taste the

pre-come that was beading on Gabriel's taut, young belly. He wanted
Gabriel's cock in his mouth, wanted to get down between Gabriel's
thighs and bury his face between Gabriel's perfect ass cheeks until his
breath was gone. But Gabriel ignored him, eyes closed, tongue sliding
over lips, ragged breath washing into the still air.
 This isn't about you . It was like Rase wasn't even here. He was so
much nothing that Gabriel could use him to get hard and then use him
to come, then get rid of him. Maybe if he was a good toy, he could
come back. Gabriel rocked against him, demanding more, and Rase
gave it to him, long, hard strokes that terrified him because each one
brought him closer to coming.

"Oh, Christ." Gabriel finally let one hand go to his cock and he pulled
Rase closer with his legs. Rase almost lost his balance, but Gabriel's
strong thighs held his upper body up so his hips could keep working.

Gabriel reached out with his other hand and grabbed Rase by the hair,
looking at him for the first time since Rase started moving. He tugged
Rase's head down as he jerked himself off, his body under Rase's
twitching and writhing.

"Harder." Gabriel's body clenched around Rase's cock. Everything was

falling apart, but Rase couldn't disobey. He gave Gabriel everything he
could, pushing back against Gabriel's body, making low sounds that he
didn't recognize as his at first. "Oh, fuck," Gabriel said. "Fuck. Open
your fucking mouth."

Rase obeyed without understanding, trying to look at Gabriel for clues,

but Gabriel jerked his head down further. Gabriel's ass clenched down
on Rase's cock so hard that he couldn't have kept his mouth shut
anyway. Gabriel was grunting obscenities, "Whore, fucking slut
whore," as he shot all over Rase's face.

Rase mewled and licked at the come that hit his mouth, losing all
sense of things as he fucked Gabriel hard, desperate to get more. He
wanted to babble, but he couldn't talk with his mouth open like this. If
you come, it's over. Rase remembered as he was on the verge, and he
cried out in desperation, jerking back against the hand in his hair.

Gabriel let him go then, adding to Rase's momentum with a foot to the
shoulder. Rase twisted instinctively to keep from falling awkwardly,
landing on his back half on the bed. He was unable to stop himself
from sliding, though, and Gabriel shoved him again, sending him
rolling to land on his side on the rug beside the bed. Rase lay there,
huddled on his side, wracked with pain and still desperate to come.

Gabriel got up after a few minutes and stepped over him on his way to
where Rase had left his clothes. He picked up Rase's hand-tailored,
sweat-creased shirt that still stank like Mumbai and airports, and used
it to wipe the come from his chest. Rase watched him from where he
lay, his need almost sated even if his cock was still aching for more.

Gabriel dropped the shirt and walked back to Rase, stopping just in
front of him. He nudged Rase's cheek with his foot. "Come," he said
flatly.

Hands cuffed behind his back, shoulders flaring with pain with every
breath, Rase had no idea how he was going to make that happen, but
he was as anxious for it as Gabriel seemed indifferent. Whimpering, he
rolled over onto his belly, his dick trapped between his belly and the
smooth, braided rug that covered the floor. Legs splayed, eyes closed,
mouth open so Gabriel could hear every little noise, Rase humped the
rug slowly.

The friction hurt; he was already tender from Gabriel's jeans, but the
searing awareness of what he must look like right now was enough to
make Rase moan with pleasure. The only thing in his line of vision,
when he forced his eyes open, were Gabriel's feet planted on the
linoleum at the edge of the rug. Beautiful feet, like the rest of him,
high arches and veins like tributaries tracing the insteps. Gabriel was
watching him.

Rase lifted his head and kissed Gabriel's left foot, licking at the blood
he'd left there. His own blood and Gabriel's sweat combined made him
moan, and he was lost again. There was nothing in the world but
Gabriel; nothing mattered but this. Rase was nothing, down so low. So
easy. Heat and wetness spread against his belly as he washed
Gabriel's feet with his tongue.

And Gabriel let him. Rase writhed and panted, planting sucking kisses
along the arch of one of Gabriel's feet, cheek brushing the other.
Pleasure wracked him, and he cried out breathlessly with every
exhalation, every thrust of his hips that ground his cock between his
belly and the floor. Tears of pain from his shoulders being wrenched
beyond the limits of their repair fell on Gabriel's feet, and Rase lapped
up each one as it fell.

"Come," Gabriel said again, his voice a thin edge cutting through the
roar in Rase's ears.

Oh, God, that voice was everything. Rase's body jerked and he
pressed his face to the floor between Gabriel's feet, mouth open
against the linoleum. There wasn't any screaming, just a high whine
as he bucked hard and fucked the floor like he'd fucked Gabriel,
coming until he was tearing himself apart and everything started to
fade to black.

***

Rase came back to his wet face pressed against a cold floor. Oh, God,
what had he done? Gabriel was uncuffing him, and he had to fight
back tears at the pain in his shoulders. Oh, God, he was so sick and
filthy. He pushed himself to all fours, swallowing bile as he did. All he
wanted to do was get dressed and go.

The handcuffs crashed onto the bedside table, and Gabriel's footsteps
retreated. Shaking, Rase couldn't get to his feet yet, so he crawled. He
couldn't look up; he didn't want to see the disdain on Gabriel's face.
Gabriel still had his briefs and his belt, but Rase made it to the rest of
his clothes.

"Who said you could leave?" Rase was wiping at his face with his shirt,
trying to ignore the way it stank of Gabriel, when Gabriel spoke. "You
can't leave here like that." Gabriel's foot caught him in the hip. "Go to
the bathroom."

There was no help offered, not until the cold tiles of the bathroom
floor were gouging Rase's knees, and then a pair of warm arms
wrapped around Rase's chest. "Stand up." Gabriel's voice was softer
now. "Lean on me."

Rase had never heard those words before, not in this context, not ever
that he could remember. Gabriel was strong for all that he was
slimmer than Rase; Rase leaned on him, eyes closed, and Gabriel kept
him from falling. It was surreal to be held up by the same person who
brought him down so far. Rase was aware that Gabriel was helping
him into the shower, found himself leaning up against the icy tiles
while scalding water pounded one shoulder.

Gabriel was talking, but Rase couldn't understand what he was saying.
It was everything Rase could do to keep standing; he couldn't even
open his eyes. The tone of Gabriel's voice was bizarrely soothing; Rase
had no idea that he could sound that way. Gabriel's hands were
gentle, too, as he washed Rase clean.
Finally, Gabriel's hands cupped Rase's face, and one gently patted
Rase's bruised cheek. "Rase. Rase." Soft lips brushed Rase's mouth
and that, like a fairytale kiss, was enough to get him to open his eyes.

Gabriel was his height; standing like this, inches apart, they were eye
to eye. "Hi," Gabriel said gently. He kissed Rase again, careful of
Rase's bloodied lips. "I wasn't sure if you were here or not. It's good
to see you."

"I'm fine," Rase said. "You don't need to worry about me." He could've
called a cab like this; he usually remembered how to work a phone.
When he was young, he used to crawl into the back of the cab and lie
there, huddled and shivering, desperate to get home and hide.

"Yeah, right." Gabriel laughed at him, short and harsh. "You're just
fine." He began sponging Rase's face with a wet cloth.

"I've done this before. I know what I'm doing." Rase came back to
himself enough to take the cloth from Gabriel's hand. "You don't need
to worry about me," he said again.

"Whatever."

Gabriel took half a step back -- there wasn't much room to move in
the shower -- and crossed his arms over his chest. Rase stared at
them, at the water beaded in the light hair on Gabriel's chest,
anywhere but Gabriel's face. They stood there in silence as Rase
washed, until Gabriel reached out and took the cloth back again.

"Turn around," Gabriel said. "I'll wash your back."

Rase turned around and put his hands on the wall, to support himself
more than anything else, and closed his eyes. His traitorous body was
trembling. Pressing his forehead to the wall, Rase had to struggle not
to cry when he felt the first gentle touch of the cloth at the nape of his
neck.

Gabriel washed him from head to toe, and Rase didn't have the
strength to tell him to stop. It felt so good. He couldn't remember
anyone ever touching him so carefully before. Gabriel was as adept at
caring for him as at hurting him.
"There." Rase could hear Gabriel wringing out the cloth and hanging it
up. "You're all clean."

The words snapped something in Rase's chest. His nails scraped

against the wall as his hands curled into fists and his knees gave way.
The first sob that escaped felt like it ripped his heart out on the way to
his mouth. He bit one fist as he crumpled, bit down hard enough to
break the skin, but nothing would stop the tears.

Rase wanted to apologize; this wasn't fair to Gabriel. It wasn't

Gabriel's fault that he wasn't ever going to be clean. Rase curled in on
himself like a man with a belly wound, beating his forehead against his
knees without knowing it. He expected a kick, a hand in his hair
hauling him out of the shower, he expected what he deserved.

Gabriel's body pressed against him and curled around him, and
Gabriel's arm slid between Rase's forehead and his knees. Gabriel
pressed kisses to Rase's scalp where it stung from having his hair
pulled, held him close, and rocked him gently. Rase thought his chest
was going to break open with grief and loathing and his infected guts
were going to spill all over the floor. At least then the water would
wash them away.

"It's okay," Gabriel was saying, over and over again. "You're okay,
Rase. Nothing is wrong. You didn't do anything wrong."

How could he have gone so long without hearing what he needed so

desperately to hear? How could he have missed that he needed this is
badly as the rest? Who taught him that, on the inside, he deserved to
stay that low forever?

"You're okay." Gabriel's arms were so tight around him that Rase felt
like he was being held together. His head was cushioned on Gabriel's
shoulder, and Gabriel was speaking into his wet hair.

After a time, Rase ran out of sobs. It hurt to breathe, but breathing
didn't stop. Now he felt raw on the inside as well as on the outside --
bruised on the inside of his ribs, scalded on the inside of his throat,
beaten on the inside of his eyes. Gabriel held on to him even when his
breathing slowed and he became drowsy from the release.

Rase knew he should get up and go. He started with his fingertips,
slowly unfurling his hands against the creaking in his joints to loosen
his fists. When the movement continued up his arms, Gabriel shifted
to free them.

They got up slowly, clinging to each other, moving like a pair of old
men. It hurt to stand, as though every tendon in Rase's body had
been ratcheted tighter by several revolutions. He had to lean on
Gabriel until his hamstrings loosened enough to let him stand alone.

"I'm sorry," he said roughly as he let go of Gabriel and there was

finally a little distance between them.

"It is what it is," Gabriel said. He reached over and turned off the
water. Suddenly, all was silence. "Are you okay now?"

"Yes." Rase reached out and pulled the shower curtain aside, startled
to find out the lights in the bathroom were on. He had felt before as if
the room was in darkness.

"You'd say that even if you weren't." Gabriel stepped out first and
pulled a towel down from the rack for Rase.

"Yes." Rase wasn't going to deny it. He took a towel and started drying
himself off, careless of his various scrapes and bruises.

"Tell me the truth." This time, the order in Gabriel's voice was
unmistakable.

Rase's head jerked up as though Gabriel had a hand in his hair. "I'm
okay," he said obediently. He was; that was surprising part. Hurt,
humiliated, yes, but he was fine. Maybe even better than before.

"Good." Gabriel grabbed a towel for himself and wrapped it around his
waist without stopping to dry. "Get dressed and get out, then." The
edge in his voice was missing. He turned away before Rase could
make sense of his expression.

Rase wiped the mirror clean so that he could see himself. The left side
of his face was starting to bruise, his mouth was swollen, his lips split
in several places. He looked like he'd been beaten; he ran his fingers
over his features and felt a tiny spark of heat still burning in the
emptiness of his belly. Oh, God, it was so good.

He hung up the towel and walked naked out to find Gabriel. The room
was empty. Rase dressed without his briefs but picked his belt up
again. His hands trembled as he threaded it through the loops on his
pants. All the tears in the world couldn't wash away his need, but the
loathing had faded to a dull whine in the background, a pitiful noise
that Rase thought he could ignore.

When Rase stepped out into the hallway, a cold wind from the end
caught his attention. The window there was open, and the streetlight
outside traced Gabriel's silhouette against the dark glass. Rase could
smell his cigarette from here. Unsure what else to do, he closed the
door and turned to go.

He felt as though he were cutting off his life-support. He stopped two

doors down and turned around. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Gabriel didn't turn around.

Rase turned away before he dropped to his knees on the gritty gray
carpet and crawled back to Gabriel's feet. If Gabriel had wanted him,
wanted him to stay or wanted him again, he would've said something.
He had already given Rase more than Rase deserved, more than Rase
had ever expected, everything that he had known and everything that
he had never imagined that he needed.

Outside, he put his mask back on as best he could, turned the collar of
his jacket up against the wind, and waited for the cab to come.

Chapter Three

Rase slept on the couch in his study that night; he crept in through
the back door and collapsed almost as soon as he had found the
leather curve of it in the pitch-dark room. He woke easily, with the sun
on his face, and was surprised at how good he felt. He ached in the
most perfect ways.

Closing his eyes, he lay there and turned last night over in his mind.
His fingers played over his belt and he was hard in an instant. When
he breathed deeply, he could smell Gabriel on his shirt, warmed by the
heat of his own body. He reached down with one hand and rubbed his
palm over the ridge of his erection through the fine wool of his pants.
It hurt; he was rubbed raw from the night before. Still, he pressed
harder, moaning and rocking his hips. Before he knew it, the front of
his pants was wet and he was panting. He took his other hand off of
his belt and reached down between his thighs to squeeze his balls.

Rase begged as though Gabriel were there to hear him; he imagined

Gabriel standing at the end of the couch, arms crossed over his chest,
watching with his own cock straining at the front of his jeans. He
imagined the dark wet spot that would grow where the head of
Gabriel's cock pressed against the fabric. And he remembered
Gabriel's voice ringing in his ears. "Come."

He came with a low cry, feeling wetness flood the front of his pants,
pleasure rushing through him until he lay shivering and stated on the
couch. When he opened his eyes, he was alone. His clothes were
filthy, he was sticky again with come, but he felt cleaner than he had
since he could remember.

Drunk on exhaustion, Rase forced himself to his feet and slowly made
his way back to the main part of the house. He lurched into the huge
master bedroom, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulders as he
unbuttoned his shirt, and was confronted with the presence of his wife.
She was standing in front of the massive triptych mirror above her
dresser, putting on a pair of diamond earrings. From the short white
outfit she was wearing, Rase assumed that she was off to play tennis.

"What happened to you?" She could see him in the doorway, reflected
in the mirror, and he could see her face as well. It was only then that
he remembered what he must look like to other people.

"I'm fine," he said, avoiding the question. "It looks worse than it is."

She finished putting her earrings in and turned around to look at him
as he crossed the room. "Were you out all night?"

"I slept in the study." Rase headed for the bathroom to shower,
shoving the door closed behind him with an elbow.

"Did someone beat you up? Did you get mugged?" She followed him
in.

"Andrea." Rase stopped and turned around to look at her. "I'm okay.
Really."
"You know what you look like?" The concern faded from her tone.
"Peter said that he dropped you off at la Cuchina, and that you sent
him home. Did anyone see you like this? Were you drinking?" She
closed the distance between them with a few steps and reached out to
pluck at his shirt. "You stink like sex. Were you with some prostitute?
Did you get beat up over that?"

Rase caught her hand and tugged it away from his shirt. She was
always angry with him, and he knew it was because she was always
uncertain of him. She had reason to be. "No, I wasn't. I was in the
wrong place at the wrong time," he lied. "It was a mistake."

"You're lying to me." Andrea pulled her hand from his. "You're a
million miles away. You always are, even when you're right here." She
turned her back on him and walked away, her posture rigid with pain.

How long was he going to keep her trapped in here with him?

"Andrea." Rase followed her back to the bedroom. "Don't go. Just, stay
here with me. I'll shower and get dressed; we can have lunch."

"Ellen's waiting for me." She didn't look at him as she pulled on her
sweater. "I don't want to disappoint her. Harry's cheating on her, you
know." Now she did look at him, flipping back her ponytail and putting
her hands on her hips. "I guess she and I have plenty to talk about."

"It's not your fault," Rase said. "It's not you, it's me."

"I assumed that." Andrea's mouth twisted in a disdainful sneer. She

picked up her bag from beside the bed and slung it over her shoulder.
"Just make sure you're clean before I get home."

Rase watched her walk away. "I'll call my lawyer." He never wanted to
see that look on anyone's face again, not if he couldn't crush them for
it. More than that, he never wanted anyone to have good reason to
look at him like that again, not someone he should have loved.

Andrea turned around so fast she almost lost her balance. "What?" Her
expression was incredulous, then furious. "You're divorcing me?" She
dropped her bag and flew at him. Rase caught her by the wrists before
she could hit him, holding her away from him. "You? Who the fuck do
you think you are?"
"I think I'm a shitty husband," Rase said evenly. "I was to Maggie; I
am to you. And I'm sorry. You're making out pretty well. Tell people
whatever you want, I don't care." He let go of her wrists when he
thought she wasn't going to hit him again. His shoulders ached with
the effort, a burn that made him feel stronger instead of ashamed.

She hit him anyway, her nails drawing burning lines across his cheek.
"You son of a bitch." Rase caught her hand before she could do it
again, his grip tight enough on her wrist that she gasped and her eyes
filled with tears.

It didn't do a thing for him, hurting her, no matter how he felt. "You're
going to be okay, Andrea." Rase gave her a pitying look. "Don't hit me
again. If I wanted to, I could get that prenup torn up today, by my
lawyers, for that." He let her go again, this time pushing her back a
step as he did and turning away.

"Rase…" Andrea's voice broke, and Rase knew that she was sad, she
just wasn't sad for the right reasons. "We can go to counseling or
something."

Rase stopped in the bathroom doorway and turned to look at her one
more time. She was crying, but her makeup was still flawless. He
knew she would be okay; she was still young, not much older than
Gabriel, and the prenuptial agreement would provide her a generous
allowance until she married again. "I've been to counseling," he said.
"Trust me, nothing is going to fix this. I'm sorry." He really was, and it
surprised him, how much empathy he could feel for her right now.

"You call your lawyer," she said. Her voice was ice again, and the tears
were gone almost as fast as they came. "I'll call mine. You think
you're sorry now."

Rase closed the bathroom door on her, and moments later there was a
slam as she shut the bedroom door behind her. All he could feel was
relief. He started to peel his clothes off, like he was shedding his skin,
ready to get clean on the outside for a new start.

***

Even though Rase's father had been dead for nearly five years, it still
felt strange to walk into work and not be questioned about his
appearance. He got concerned looks, and Allen certainly raised an
eyebrow, but no one made any comment. Rase got settled at his desk
and was reading over messages from his lawyers when Allen tapped
on the door and let himself in.

"Everything okay, sir?"

Rase looked up and gave Allen a careful smile; if he didn't watch

himself he'd split his lip open again. It wasn't like he minded, it was
just something that he would rather do in private, where he could
enjoy it. "Everything's fine, Allen. Order me some lunch, will you? I'm
in the mood for sushi."

"Yes, sir." Allen hesitated instead of leaving promptly as usual. He

looked particularly dapper today, in a pearl gray suit and pink button-
down shirt. His tie was, as always, spectacular, an unapologetically
gay fountain of abstract paisley butterflies in pink and silver. Allen's
ties were often the most aesthetic part of Rase's day.

"I'm fine, Allen," Rase reassured him. "Apparently it took being struck
in the head several times to inspire me to send Andrea packing. It's
better for everyone this way."

"I see." Allen was too professional to show anything that might be
misinterpreted as glee or satisfaction, but he did smile, just little. "I'll
order the sushi for you, sir. Would you like a small bottle of sake with
that? Perhaps some champagne?"

Rase couldn't help laughing at that, and he shook a finger at Allen.

"Now," he chided, "it's not quite time for that. But a little sake
wouldn't go wrong."

"Yes, sir." Allen was still smiling. "I'll have that for you right away."

Rase had plenty of work to do. The time he'd spent away had resulted
in a backlog of things that needed his attention; it was one of the
hazards of trying to be in control of as much as possible. It was hard
to concentrate, though, because he kept thinking about Gabriel. As far
as he knew, Gabriel was in the building, working as he had every day
before Rase even knew he existed.

He managed to keep his focus through lunch, but as the end of the
working day neared he grew more agitated. It was wrong, he told
himself, to interfere as Gabriel's life. Gabriel hadn't invited him back
into it. He didn't have any right to go looking. Rase threw himself into
his work and resigned himself to waiting.

For a week, he did nothing about Gabriel. He slept in his office the first
night, on the comfortable couch he never used for anything else. The
second night, he went home to an empty house. All of Andrea's things
were gone. Rase should've been lonely, but all he felt was relief. There
was no one left to hide from here.

Alone, in the unused family room, he stayed up looking at pictures

from his first marriage to Maggie, pictures of their son Takis, and
pictures from his marriage to Andrea. The only thing real he could find
in any of them was Takis, Takis and the unhappiness in Rase's own
eyes that he thought he hidden all those years. He hadn't spoken to
Takis in three months, not since he'd sent Takis back to college, prying
him away from his faltering career as a roadhouse musician with the
threat of cutting off his trust fund and disowning him entirely.

The third day, Rase spent talking to lawyers and his real estate agent.
Rase hated dealing with lawyers, hated the way most of them
assumed that he was stupid, even his own lawyers. Dealing with
lawyers was one of the many reasons Rase had to avoid marriage.

The only reason he'd gotten married again was pressure from his
father. The old bastard had the nerve to go and die only a month
later. Yet another thing that Rase didn't feel like forgiving him for. He
didn't want to wonder if Takis felt similarly about him.

On the fourth day, Rase went to see Takis. It was a six hour drive to
Takis' college, but Rase waved off any suggestion that he take a flight
or a limousine. He wanted to drive, to have the time to himself and to
think about what he was going to do what he got there. If he wanted
to work, he could put a headset on and dictate, but he had worked too
much and thought too little in the past.

The drive up gave him time to collect his thoughts, to be ready for
Takis being angry at him, and to decide whether or not he was going
to come clean. Rase was tired of hiding. Takis didn't need to know the
details, but Rase wasn't going to lie about who he was anymore. He
realized that he was clenching the steering wheel so tightly that his
knuckles had gone white.
Rase was gay. That had been almost as bad as the rest of what his
father had discovered when Rase was dragged out of the dungeon on
a stretcher when he was younger than Takis or Gabriel. His father
might have forgiven him if the person who had tied him up, made him
bleed, and gone too far had been a woman. When Rase was begging
his father not to do anything drastic, when he was trying to explain
that it was all his fault, his father turned to look at him and Rase had
understood it all right then in one glance.

Rase had always been inadequate, at least when his father was in the
room. That Rase was strong and handsome and intelligent was never
enough. His father had loathed him to the point that Rase wondered
whether or not he was a bastard child of some affair his mother had
had to try and keep her sanity. Rase had even paid for genetic testing
when he was still in high school, but there was no relief from being his
father's son.

Rase's father had never laid a hand on him. His father had never
needed to sully himself with manual labor for anything, even hating
his son. Rase didn't want Takis to hate him, not anymore. At one
point, he thought it was only right that sons hate their fathers; he had
hated his, as his had hated him.

But Rase didn't hate Takis. Rase loved him so much that he was
frightened. He was afraid that Takis would be like him if they got too
close. He was afraid Takis would see him for who he really was and
hate him for it. There was so much Rase couldn't forgive himself for,
he couldn't bear to add to it. None of it was Takis' fault, and Rase
needed to be braver than he had been so that all of this would stop
with him.

***

Rase's hand was shaking slightly when he knocked on Takis'

apartment door. He had no idea if Takis was even going to be home.
Before he could lose his nerve, the door opened.

"Allen told me you'd be… Jesus Christ." Takis stopped in mid-sentence.

He looked good, aside from the expression on his face. Shabby, like he
was still shopping at second-hand stores, but well. "Dad, what
happened?"

"It's a long story," Rase said sheepishly. He'd forgotten how he looked.
"Uh, the happy ending is that I'm divorcing Andrea. At least, that's the
happiest so far." He rubbed a hand over his cheek where the scabs
were healing. "Can I come in?"

"That's pretty happy." Takis backed up and held the door open. "Was
that what you came to tell me?"

"No." It was further that Rase had expected to get. "I just came to
talk."

Takis' apartment wasn't much bigger than Gabriel's and less clean.
There were three guitars that Rase could see from where he stood just
inside the door, stacks of books and music, and two trash bags full of
laundry that Rase was sure was dirty. Rase sighed inwardly and let it
all go, even the two -- hopefully -- empty pizza boxes teetering on a
tower of textbooks on the coffee table. The grayish walls were
plastered with rock posters and pictures of nude women.

"Talk?" Takis sounded incredulous. Rase didn't blame him.

"Yes." Rase stood in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets,
unsure of where it was safe to sit down. Takis' furniture looked grubby
and suspect.

"Do you want… coffee? Anything? Are you sure you're okay?"

Rase looked over at his son, who was hovering at the kitchenette
behind him. "Takis, I'm fine. I just had my bell rung this week, and it
knocked a few things into place." Gabriel had comforted him, soothed
him, and it had been such a contrast to the rest of Rase's life that it
had made him question everything. That, not the backhand to the
face, had shaken him up.

"Concussion?" Takis came over and sat down on the couch; he pointed
to the chair, and Rase took his chances.

"No." Rase got settled and leaned forward, arms on his knees, trying
not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. "How's college?" He forced
himself to look his son in the eye. Takis looked so much like him, it
was painful sometimes.

"Collegiate. Cut throat. Unpleasant." Takis shrugged and slouched

back into the cushions, drumming his fingers against one thigh. "I'm
at least five years older than everyone else in my class. You got my
midterm grades."

"They were excellent." Takis was at least as smart as Rase was. "I'm
proud of you."

"That means a lot." Takis managed not to roll his eyes, but Rase
laughed anyway.

"It probably means about as much as it should, by the sound of it."

Rase shook his head and leaned back in the chair, listening to it creak.
"That's okay. Thank you for doing well, even though I screwed up by
sending you here."

"You… what?" Takis' face was a study in confusion and he sat up

straight. "This is a really good school, Dad. You picked it yourself. You
went here. Grandpa loved this school. He bought it a library." Takis
gestured helplessly. "How did you screw up?"

"By making you come here in the first place." Rase took some papers
out of an inner jacket pocket and passed them over.

"What?" Takis took the papers, still looking baffled.

"That's the paperwork for control of your trust fund." Rase sat back
and folded his hands so that he could be sure they weren't shaking. It
was all out of his hands now, literally. Takis could walk away with
millions, and Rase couldn't do a damn thing about it.

"You're just… giving it to me?" Takis was incredulous now. He pulled

the paperwork out of the narrow envelope and looked it over. That
made Rase ridiculously proud, that Takis had the inclination to look
past the momentary excitement so he could check the details.

"I'm not 'just giving' it to you. It's yours. Your grandfather wanted you
to have it; he just left it to me to decide when and if you got it. And I
decided." Rase watched Takis' face as he struggled to process things.
"I have one other thing for you."

Takis finished reading the papers and then put them down on top of
his books, pushing the pizza boxes aside. "What else?"

"I'm sorry." Rase leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees,
hands out, palms up. "I fucked up, Taki. I never should have made
this about money. Ever. I was wrong."

That stunned Takis more than the money. He tapped his fingertips
together, staring at them. "Okay." He nodded slowly. "Okay, thanks."
There was silence for a while, and Rase was aware of all the noises
around them -- water in the pipes, music from below, voices in the
hall. "So I can quit school, then?"

Rase took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yeah, you can." He
shrugged and stifled the urge to lecture Takis on why he should stay in
school. "Any time you like. You probably have enough there to start
your own record company or something," he said, pointing at the
paperwork.

"Yeah." Takis grinned at him. "I know. But I'm learning some good
stuff here about not blowing all that money. And the chicks love the
rocker thing. So breathe, Dad."

"Brat." Rase scowled at him, then laughed with relief.

"Apology accepted, too." Takis laughed as well and pushed himself to

his feet. "Let me just put this away where I won't wash it by accident
or something."

"You wash things here?" Rase looked around for evidence.

"Shut up, Dad," Takis called on his way to the over-sized closet that
passed for a college student's bedroom.

"Did you want to go get something to eat?" Rase rubbed his hands
against the tops of his thighs, looking at the fading bite mark on his
hand and remembering what it felt like to have arms around him,
holding him up. He wished someone could be there that way for the
rest of this conversation.

"Sure." Takis came back and stopped in the doorway. He plucked at

the faded sweatshirt with the grinning skull he wore. "Uh, did you
want me to change?"

"You're fine the way you are." Rase pushed himself to his feet.

"Are you sure you didn't get brain damage?" Takis swiped his
sunglasses from the top of the television set and dug his wallet out
from under an avalanche of video games.

"I'm fine." Rase held out his hand and, to his surprise, Takis came
over and slid his arm around Rase's waist, then hugged him. Rase
wrapped his arms around his son, realizing how close in height and
size they were. "I'm just fine."

"Good." Takis slapped Rase on the back and then pushed away. "I
know this place that has great falafel. Really garlicky, greasy falafel.
They even have live music once in a while."

"This is my punishment, isn't it?" Rase sighed and headed for the
door.

"Uh-huh. Fried food and live music performed by stoned college kids."
Takis slapped him on the back again. "It's gonna be a long few years
for you while you work this off, Dad. I hope your heart can take it."

***

"How mad are you?" Rase was trying to ignore the music, but the
food wasn't bad. The restaurant was a pretty little place with a large
patio; it warmed Rase that Takis still loved the same food he'd grown
up eating at his great-grandmother's house. The evening was falling
slowly, and there were strings of colored lanterns crisscrossing the
patio overhead that cast circles of light on the tables.

"About what part?" Takis spoke with his mouth full, then washed his
food down with a mouthful of beer. Rase resisted the instinctive
criticism that rose up.

"The school."

"Not very. I mean, Mom always said I'd have to go back, and I
probably would have even if you hadn't made me." Takis grabbed a
napkin to wipe his mouth. "And the trust fund, well, it's not like I
wasn't getting money from Mom's side of things, at least enough to
get by. But that wasn't the point."

"No, it wasn't." Rase had to agree. "I really am sorry about that. What
about everything else?"
"What? Divorcing Mom, marrying the bitch queen… I'm pretty sure you
missed most of my Little League games," Takis leaned back with beer
in hand, looking thoughtful. "I have a big fucking list."

"Point taken. You're being easier on me than I expected," Rase

admitted. He picked up his own beer and took a drink, wishing there
were a little more alcohol to it.

"You look wrecked," Takis said magnanimously. "I don't just mean the
bruises. You just look tired out, Dad. I'm pissed off, but being a shit
right now isn't going to help, is it? I mean, five years from now, I don't
want to be saying sorry for what I did today."

"You must have gotten all that smart from your mother." Rase had
always liked Maggie; she was independent and free-spirited, a good
mother. He was sorry he hadn't been able to make it work, sorry he
hadn't been brave enough to still be her friend when it was over.

"You were pretty smart when I was little," Takis said, shaking his
head. He settled his sunglasses up in his unruly hair as they started to
slide. "I remember that much. You were a good dad when you were
around."

"That means a lot." It meant enough that Rase's eyes stung a little
and he actually turned to watch the musicians until the lump in his
throat faded enough that he could take another drink of beer. "I hope
I get to be around more, that you'll let me be."

Takis dipped a ring of calamari in the aioli and then popped it into his
mouth. "Why wouldn't I? I mean, you're trying not to be a jackass
now, and you're even drinking beer without making a face. I think I
can deal with it."

"I'm gay." Rase said it as calmly as he could, setting it out on the

table between them. He'd never said it before, not to anyone.
Suddenly his palms were slick with sweat, and he could hardly hang
onto his beer.

Takis was quiet for a long moment. He put his beer down and looked
at Rase, his fingers drumming the way he did when he was anxious or
thinking. "Why didn't you say something before?"

"I couldn't." Rase thought his heart was going to stop, or his eyes
were going to well up with tears and he was going to cry sitting here
in public, in front of his son. "I just… I couldn't." He set his own beer
down so that he wouldn't drop it.

"Not while Grandpa was alive, anyway." Takis was still quiet, looking
away now, his expression tight and angry. He got to his feet, and Rase
stood up so fast that he almost knocked his chair over.

"Taki, don't…" Rase started to say before his voice broke. Don't go.

Takis stepped around the table with two strides and suddenly his arms
were around Rase, his voice in Rase's ear. "It's okay, Daddy."

Rase was too startled to hug him back for a moment, but then he
remembered how, and he wrapped his arms around his son. "I'm
sorry, Taki," he whispered. They were making a scene and he didn't
care. This was worth it. This was worth anything.

"Don't be sorry about that." Takis' hug was fierce and secure. "You've
got a fuck-ton of other stuff to be sorry for."

Rase laughed at that, a little, enough to keep from breaking down or

anything embarrassing, and he let Takis go so they could see each
other. He cupped Takis' face in one hand, holding him still so he could
see the truth in Takis' eyes. "I'm sorry for those things, then."

"Yeah, I know, Dad." Takis stepped away to sit back down and Rase
took his own seat, trying not to look around to see who was staring at
them. "Are you okay?"

"I think so. Maybe?" Rase wasn't sure and he wasn't going to lie to his
son right now. "I'm still working on that. I have a lot to think about."

"I bet." Takis went back to his food easily enough, and his beer,
settling into the new reality of things with an ease that Rase envied.
"It's going to be okay, Dad," he said, looking across at Rase, who was
still feeling frozen. "The best thing that can happen to anyone is that
they get to be themselves." He paused and tilted his head. "I might
put that in a song," he mused.

Rase laughed at that, melting by degrees. "I might listen to it if you

do," he said.
"Seriously?" Takis stopped with his beer halfway to his mouth, eyes
wide.

"Seriously." Rase felt himself thawing through and through, melting

into a peace he hadn't known before. "Just tell me where and when
and I'll be there."

"You can even bring a date." Takis' grin was cheeky.

Rase sighed and ran a hand over his face. "One step at a time, boy."
Life might be more peaceful, but it wasn't necessarily going to be
easier.

Chapter Four

Rase had years of experience with denying himself what he wanted

and what he needed, for all that his luxurious lifestyle of suggested
otherwise. He survived his visit with his son and went home to
wrangle the issues of real estate and divorce again. He put Gabriel out
of his mind as best he could, refusing to touch himself and trying not
to look in the mirror so that he wouldn't have to deal with the rush of
emotion and need brought on by the sight of his fading bruises.

As much as he hated lawyers sometimes, Rase was grateful for the

ones he had. His prenuptial agreement with Andrea was a prime
example of the term "ironclad." If it hadn't been, he would have given
way to overwhelming guilt about what he'd done to her, trapping her
in his world of denial for five years. One simply couldn't do that, not
these days. He assuaged that guilt a little by giving her the summer
house they bought together shortly after his father died.

His gratitude toward his lawyers waned the more he had to explain
that not having to do something legally had little bearing on what he
felt he had to do ethically. Sitting across the table from Andrea at an
icily uncomfortable meeting, he wondered if he'd married her because
she was the kind of person he could leave more easily than he'd left
Maggie. Leaving Maggie had been hard; it had been losing his best
friend as well as his wife, and losing Takis as well.

He wondered if Takis had told his mother. The thought made Rase's
palms slick with sweat, and he forced his attention back to the matters
at hand. Maggie's compassion frightened him sometimes, and he had
the feeling that any revelation about him would come as no surprise to
her.

All Gabriel had brought him were more questions, more uncertainty.
Rase had been good at repressing things, good at hating himself. If
only Gabriel hadn't comforted him, none of this would have happened.
Alone in the oversized house he was trying to sell, Rase sat in the
dark, drinking, and tried to decide if he was angry at the younger man
or not.

***

Lying in his bed on Monday morning, on the sixth day, Rase decided
that he wasn't angry. He just needed to see Gabriel again. The idea
made his cock harden and his stomach churn. Rase rolled over on his
stomach and buried his face in the pillows to stifle a moan. Gabriel.

Rase clenched his hands in the sheets and rocked his hips. The motion
brought back the memory of lying on the floor between Gabriel's feet
with his hands shackled behind his back. Rase's shoulders ached as he
clasped his hands in the small of his back. He expected nothing but
rejection from Gabriel; he didn't deserve anything else.

Rase pressed his face into the pillows until he could hardly breathe,
stifling any noises he might make as he ground his cock into the
mattress. The silk of his pajama pants made everything slick, even
once it was wet with pre-come. Rase bit at the pillows and clenched
his hands together so tightly that he could feel his knuckles popping.
Gabriel, please.

His throat hurt with repressed noises, and he saw stars sparking in his
closed eyes from lack of air. Oh, God, he wanted someone to hurt him.
He wanted Gabriel to hurt him. It was so easy for Gabriel to hurt him,
like it came naturally to Gabriel. Rase knew how he must look right
now, how desperate, how frantic to come.

Everything around him was so soft, so safe and yielding, it was driving
him mad with frustration. He writhed in the expensive sheets, snarling
into the down pillows, fucking the yielding mattress. He couldn't come.

Rase rolled over with a whine of frustration. He yanked the drawstring

of his pants undone and shoved them down around his knees, then
pawed the covers aside so that he could look down at himself. His
dark, swollen cock was slick at the head, and Rase grabbed it, sliding
his hand up the shaft to wring more pre-come from it. He dipped his
fingers in the droplets that welled up and pushed them into his mouth.

The taste made him moan all over again because he could pretend
that it was Gabriel's. He fucked his mouth with his fingers as he jerked
off, remembering how Gabriel had looked all wanton and golden under
him when Gabriel had used him to get off. Rase pulled his fingers out
of his mouth and rubbed them over the head of his cock again for
more of that taste.

Pants down around his ankles now, knees apart, Rase rammed his
fingers far enough down his throat to make himself gag. He would go
to work, find Gabriel, and get down on his knees. He would beg
Gabriel to use him, beg Gabriel to use his mouth to get off. And
maybe, maybe, Gabriel would. Rase could feel it, could see it in his
head, could feel Gabriel's hands in his hair, forcing Rase's mouth onto
Gabriel's cock.

Down on his knees, ruining his suit, spit running down his chin onto
his tie, that was where Rase wanted to be. He sucked desperately at
his fingers, trying to say Gabriel's name around them. He rolled over
onto his knees, cheek pressed into the pillow, still finger-fucking his
mouth and jacking off, ass in the air.

That did it, being on his knees. Rase rammed three fingers in his
mouth to the knuckles, stifling his cries. He jerked his cock hard as he
came all over the sheets.

When he was done, he sat back on his heels and licked come off of his
hand, still whimpering slightly. He twisted the last of it out of his
softening cock and licked it off his fingers, then he bent down and
licked the sheets clean. He wanted more, more than this. He wanted
Gabriel to give it to him.

Skin still humming with pleasure, Rase untangled himself from his
pajama pants and got out of bed. Gabriel had changed everything, and
Rase felt guilty for being so obsessed. He knew it wasn't fair; when he
thought about it he realized that he was probably the very thing that
Gabriel despised most, rich and needy. Things were uneven between
them, no matter what Rase did about it.
In the bathroom, Rase looked himself in a full length mirror. He wasn't
unattractive, and he wondered whether or not Gabriel might agree
with that assessment. Perhaps he should spend more time in the gym.
Rase ran his fingers over his belly, tracing the line of hair from his
chest and finding hints of gray in it. He was still in good shape for a
man in his forties. Finally, he forced himself to look at his own face in
the mirror. The bruises were almost gone, he was back to looking like
himself; a little like his father, and more like his mother, with wild
dark hair and dark eyes. Maybe, good enough for someone like
Gabriel, maybe.

Rase turned away from the mirror. He didn't like to speculate, not in
business and not now. He turned on the shower and stepped in while
it was still cold, letting the icy sting take the hum out of his skin.
There was work to be done today before he could even think of
looking for Gabriel. He needed to deal with the factories that he
bought in India, among many other things. He needed his mask in
place.

***

The working day was nearly over by the time that Rase was in his
office alone with the phones silent. His desk was littered with the
remains of a busy working day: empty coffee mugs, empty plates, and
scattered sheets of paper. Rase stared at his laptop for a long time,
trying to work up the nerve to look Gabriel up again. Finally, he
reached out and started typing.

He couldn't find Gabriel anywhere. According to the security files,

Gabriel hadn't signed in to work in a week. Rase tried to navigate the
labyrinth of Human Resources files and found himself thwarted.

He got to his feet, shoving his chair back angrily, too frustrated to
remember that he could simply buzz the intercom, and stalked to the
door.

"Allen."

Allen started and turned around, almost knocking over a blue bottle of
mineral water. "Sir," he said, regaining his composure quickly. "What
can I do for you?"

"I need some information on an employee," Rase admitted. "I can't

find it."

"Name?" Allen turned back to his computer, fingers hovering over the
keys, still looking over his shoulder at Rase.

"Chariton." Rase hoped that his expression remained neutral. "Gabriel

Chariton."

"I'll send the results to your e-mail." Allen gave him a smile, and Rase
knew when he was being dismissed, however gently. Allen had very
specific ideas about where Rase belonged at any given moment. The
foyer beyond Rase's office was Allen's domain, and Rase was quite
definitely not invited to loiter there.

"Thank you," Rase said as he retreated into his office. Really, there
was little worse than being caught out in the foyer, unprepared, by
some go-getter with the nerve to enter his inner sanctum. In his
office, he threw himself into his desk chair and tried not to fidget.

A chime from his computer told Rase he had new mail. He sat up so
quickly that he almost lost his balance reaching for his laptop. He
opened Allen's e-mail and scanned down to see if there was any
reason why Gabriel hadn't been to work.

Gabriel's Human Resources file was labeled "closed." Rase sat there
staring at it with his hand over his mouth as the world fell out from
under him. He started when he realized that he wasn't actually falling.

Gabriel had quit. He given notice the day after he'd been with Rase
and had never come back. Rase was frozen. Of all the things that he
expected this was the last, that Gabriel would leave.

Maybe he should've said something, Rase thought. Maybe he

should've told Gabriel that there wouldn't be any consequences for
what happened between them. He had no idea if Gabriel would even
believe him if he had said it.

Rase reached for the intercom button this time, unsure if he could
even stand. "Allen," he said. "I'm done for the day." Done for the day,
done for. Rase had to fix this.

"Sir?" Rase hadn't even heard Allen open the door. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Rase said reflexively. He thought he was going to be sick.
"I'm just done."

"Is there anything I can do for you, sir?" Allen stood just inside the
door, one hand on the handle so that he was still half in his world and
half in Rase's.

"I have some place I need to go." Rase started trying to tidy up his
desk so that he could leave.

"I can take care of that for you, sir," Allen said gently. "And I can call
your driver for you if you like."

"I'm fine," Rase said. A twitch of one hand sent papers fanning out
across the floor. "Just go."

Allen was notoriously disobedient at times. He closed the door behind

him and came across the room, adjusting his pants so that he
wouldn't ruin the line of them as he crouched down to pick up the
papers. "Is there anyone else I can call for you, sir?"

"No." Rase jammed the papers in his hand into the nearest file folder
without looking at the subject matter. He grabbed the folders up all at
once and stood. "No, I just need to…" He started across the room
blindly without finishing his sentence and ran smack into Allen as the
man was standing up. Papers went everywhere all over again. Rase
wanted to slam his head into the desk or grab the letter opener and
open up a vein to let his stupidity bleed out. He bent to pick up the
papers again, scraping them together in a haphazard pile.

"Sir." Allen's hand on his wrist stopped him. "Let me help you." Rase
looked up and saw real concern written across Allen's face, something
like fear in his very blue eyes. "I'll sort things out if you'd like to go
wash your face or something."

Rase pulled away and straightened up, smoothing absently at his

jacket and pants, straightening his tie without thinking about it. Allen
was right. In the bathroom, Rase stood in the dark, leaning over the
sink and splashing cold water onto his face. The cold helped. He
turned off the water and dried himself off with a soft towel, trying to
pull himself back together.

He should go to Gabriel's apartment. He should look for Gabriel, he

knew that much. Rase hung up the towel and went back out to his
office, hoping to keep his composure better this time. Allen had
cleared everything up and was stacking Rase's dirty dishes.

"I could drive you if you needed to go somewhere, sir," Allen said, not
looking up from the dishes. "If you would prefer that. It's up to you, of
course."

Rase had known Allen long enough to understand that Allen would
never be so forward unless there was something seriously wrong,
specifically something seriously wrong with Rase. Rase wondered what
he must look like, what Allen must be thinking with everything that
happened over the last week. And he realized that Allen might have
good reason to be worried.

"That would be preferable," he said. Allen had seen him in bad shape
before, reeling after his father's death, or whenever some moment
caught him wrong and had him reaching for the scotch. Better that
Allen see him like this than someone else.

"I'll bring the car around, then, sir." Allen picked up the dishes and let
himself out of Rase's office. Rase was left alone in the tidy silence,
trying to dream up what he could possibly say to Gabriel to make
things right.

***

Letting Allen drive gave Rase time to compose himself. He watched

traffic go by and thought about who he was, what he was doing with
himself, and what he wanted out of all this. Maybe it wasn't Gabriel he
needed. Maybe he just needed reassurance from someone, anyone,
that it was okay for him to be like this.

Rase propped his chin up on his hand and rubbed a finger across the
last of the scabs still on his lip. He'd hated what he was for so long, he
didn't know who he'd be if he didn't.

In a week, he'd divorced his wife and reconciled with his son, things
that had seemed insurmountable before. People were going to talk
about his leaving Andrea, or his throwing her out, as she liked to put
it. Rase didn't much care. Other men did things like that all the time.
Even if people thought less of them, they were still invited to parties,
the stock in their business still went up, and people still were false and
solicitous when they were in the room.

"I believe this is the place, sir," Allen said. He pulled up right where
Rase had gotten out of the cab the first night. Suddenly, Rase wasn't
so sure that he should be here. He could find someone else to do the
things to him that Gabriel did.

It wasn't all about him, though. Rase got out of the car, leaning in to
speak to Allen before he closed the door. "I won't be long," he
promised. He was sure this would be a short visit, whether it went well
or not. What he'd done, going to Gabriel, had cost Gabriel his job, and
Rase wanted to fix that if he could.

The building seemed even dingier in the day; if anything, it smelled

worse. Rase could hear strident voices somewhere and a baby crying
like a soundtrack to poverty. He kept his hand off the rail on the way
up the stairs. The hall that had seemed eternally long as he was
walking away from Gabriel that night was too short now, and Rase
found himself at Gabriel's door before he was ready.

When he knocked, there was silence. Rase wondered if Gabriel had

found another job so soon, if he had had one lined up already and that
was why he behaved that way in Rase's office. He knocked one more
time. "Gabriel?" Still, no answer.

Rase pulled out his cell phone and the piece of paper on which he'd
written Gabriel's phone number, and he called it. The phone rang
inside but there was no answer. Rase hung up and leaned against the
wall for a moment, trying to decide what to do. How far was he going
to go in interfering in Gabriel's life? Would it hurt to ask someone if
they'd seen him?

Rase got to the bottom of the stairs and was turning to go when he
caught sight of the door to the superintendent's office. It was more of
a closet than an office, but the door was open and there was a heavy
set, balding man inside, dressed in exactly what Rase would expect
the superintendent of a building like this to wear: a thin, stained white
T-shirt and dress pants held up with a straining belt that were worn a
to shine over the thighs.

"What you need?" The man's expression was actually fairly friendly,
possibly because Rase was wearing a suit that cost more than a
month's rent in this place, more than six months rent, really.
"I'm looking for a friend of mine," Rase said. "He lived in four-twenty."

"Yeah, nice kid." The superintendent leaned back in his chair and the
metal frame squealed in protest. "Think he maybe moved out. I never
check until end of the month."

Rase put a hand on the door frame to keep his balance. "I see…"

"You could check with Mother." The superintendent jerked his thumb
to indicate something somewhere behind him. "Next door over. She
talks to him sometimes. Mother makes a lot of friends here."

"Thank you," Rase managed to say. He pushed away from the door
frame, feeling adrift as soon as he had nothing to lean on. He knew he
should turn and leave, he should go, but he couldn't. Four steps away
was the open door. Rase tapped on it before he knew what he was
going to say, how he was going to handle this. "Hello?"

"Hello!" There was a creaking and then a woman came into sight, an
immense woman who was overflowing the wheelchair that she moved
by pulling it along with shuffling steps of her delicate slippered feet.
"Can I help you, dear?"

"I'm looking for a friend of mine," Rase said again. The more he said
it, the more he was aware of the fact that Gabriel was not his friend,
not his lover, not even any of his business. "He lived up on the fourth
floor."

"Oh, Gabriel." Mother shook her head, making the pink foam rollers
wound in her thin gray hair bounce to and fro. "He didn't tell you he
was leaving? He was such a nice boy." A ragged tortoiseshell cat
scrubbed itself up against a wheel of her chair, making affectionate
chirps. "He could always find Patches when she got out, couldn't he,
Patches?"

The sunlight through the window behind her lit Mother up with a
surreal halo, glittering with motes of dust. Rase felt as though he had
stepped into an alternate reality. "Did he say where he was going?"

"Oh, yes," Mother said, her attention on Patches as the cat attempted
to scale her bulk. Patches made it to the plateau of Mother's belly
between her breasts and began arranging the green floral housedress
to her liking. "He said he got a job with his cousin in Florida. I don't
know if he said it just to make me feel better, but he seemed like an
honest boy."

"Thank you," Rase said, stepping out of the sunlight and into the
shadow of the hall again. "I'm sure he's fine. I'm just sorry I missed
him before he left."

"You take care, now." Mother's voice drifted down the hall after Rase
as he stumbled toward the front doors.

Out on the sidewalk, the wind hit him and made him sway. Before he
knew it, Rase was clutching the rusted edge of the garbage can
chained to the tree, leaning over and vomiting into the depths. It felt
like he was trying to turn his insides out, and he retched until he was
sore, shaking, and desperate for it to stop.

"Have some water, sir." That was Allen's gentle voice, Allen's hand
holding out a bottle of water, and Allen's other hand on Rase's back
between his shoulder blades. Rase took the bottle and rinsed his
mouth out and then drank. "Slowly," Allen warned.

"Thank you," Rase said uncertainly. The water felt like it was boiling in
his stomach. "I'm fine."

"Should I take you home, sir?"

Rase didn't know the answer to that. He wanted Allen to drive him to
Florida, as though they could crisscross the entire state in hopes of
finding Gabriel again. He made a mistake, screwed up somehow, it
was the only thing he could think. It really wasn't about him anymore.
If being with Gabriel had done this to him, what had being with Rase
done to Gabriel?

"I need to find him." Rase couldn't look at Allen. His hand was shaking
when he handed the rest of the water back.

"Why don't you get in the car, sir?" Allen suggested. Rase looked
around and realized that there were eyes on them, that they weren't
alone in the dying afternoon on the dirty narrow street. Allen opened
the door for him and, clinging to the car, Rase managed to get into the
backseat. Allen got into the driver's seat and pulled out before he even
buckled up his seat belt. Once they were driving, Allen buckled in one-
handed and looked at Rase in the rearview mirror. "Who are we
looking for, sir?"

Rase slumped against the door, feeling like he was drowning in shame.
He thought he was done with feeling this kind of hatred for himself,
but here it was again. "I just need to fix it, Allen," he said. Allen had
to understand.

"I see." Allen's voice was gentler than Rase had ever heard it. "And
you would need to find him in order to do so, sir?"

"Yes," Rase said, hating the tremor in his voice.

"I'll see what I can do, sir." Allen looked him in the rearview mirror
again, and this time, he smiled. "It won't be the first time I've gone
digging for you," he pointed out. It was true; Rase relied on Allen's
research skills all the time. Rase would do anything to get the upper
hand in a deal. Now, he felt like he would never have the upper hand
again.

"Thank you, Allen." Rase felt like he was unraveling, coming apart
where he sat. Looking out a window, he realized that Allen was taking
him home. "Take me to the Hilton, Allen," Rase said. He didn't want to
go home alone, didn't want to be rattling around in a huge, empty
house with nothing but the echoes of bitterness and failure to keep
him company.

"Yes, sir." Allen changed lanes to get to the next exit. "Would you like
me to have some things sent over for you?"

"I want everything new," Rase said. Maybe he could get rid of
everything from his old life except for the photograph albums; maybe
he could have those edited to his satisfaction. "Call whoever you need
to call," he said. "Just get me what I need."

"I'll do my best, sir," Allen said. He pulled his headset out of his
pocket and tucked into his ear, getting down to work. His voice was a
soothing rise and fall at the edge of Rase's awareness. Rase felt so far
out to sea, out of control, out of his depth. It felt like all he could do
now was try and keep his head above water until he found a familiar
landmark to help him get home.

***
The next few days felt like sleepwalking for Rase. He lived out of a
hotel room that was larger than most people's houses. He paced the
marble floors at night, he couldn't sleep. He chain-smoked, he drank,
and he stared himself in the mirror, watching the last of Gabriel's
marks fade from his face.

Rase bought a new company, invested money in foreign countries,

hired new scientists, and gave a speech to some of his shareholders.
All of it was simply going through the motions. And when he was tired
enough, Rase sat in the dark, bathed in the glow of his laptop screen,
surfing the web to look up bars and clubs where he might go to find a
little relief from his cravings. But, as active as he was the rest of time,
he was frozen at night. He could have hired someone to come up to
his room, but he couldn't make himself do that either.

When he closed the laptop, Rase was alone with himself. That was
when he wished, more than any other time, that he had friends. He'd
been so busy with his life, so busy hiding who he was, that he'd never
stopped to make any. A friend might know him for what he really was,
and Rase had never been able to risk that.

He pulled his knees up and dug the heels of his hands into his burning
eyes. All this time, all his work, and Rase had nothing to show for it.
He was an old man alone in the dark. Morning came every time with
an inevitability that weighed Rase down and made him feel that a year
had passed for each night he made it through.

Rase was in the sky, between cities, when his phone rang with Allen's
ring. "Hello?"

"Sir," Allen said. "I thought you might like to know the moment I
found what you were looking for."

"What? Where?" Rase got up, ignoring the worried looks of his
assistants and lawyers with him on the plane, and shut himself in the
bedroom at the front for privacy.

"I can't make any guarantees, you understand, sir," Allen said quickly.
"The name is unusual, but one can never be too sure."

"Just make sure the plane is ready to go as soon as I'm out of the
next meeting," Rase said. His hands were suddenly damp with sweat;
he leaned against the door and locked it with his elbow.

"If you'd like, I could speak with some people down there," Allen said.
"I could hire somebody to look into it for you, sir. I don't want to
waste your time."

"No," Rase said, feeling a sudden surge of shame and fear. "No, I
don't want anybody else to know about this."

"Very well, sir," Allen said smoothly. "Would you prefer a room near
the beach or in the city?"

"The beach." The idea of being in the city made Rase's nerves jangle.
Maybe it was because he would be that much closer to an easy fix.

"As you wish."

When Allen hung up, Rase stood there staring blankly at the luxury
bedroom where he never really slept. He leaned against the door until
he realized that he wasn't going to be able to compose himself so
easily, and he made his way to the bathroom to splash cold water on
his face. It was a small room, but bigger than the bathroom in
Gabriel's apartment. Rase shut himself in there to wash his face and
found himself staring at his hands as the water ran over them.

Not for the first time, he wondered what the hell he was doing. What
was going to happen when he saw Gabriel again? Would Gabriel feel
hunted? Rase turned off the water and leaned on the sink. His breath
was coming too fast; he hadn't really expected Allen to find Gabriel for
him.

He needed what Gabriel offered so badly. The fleeting thoughts of the

things Gabriel had done to him were enough to make him hard, no
matter when they occurred, even at the most inconvenient times. In a
meeting, once, listening to a junior financial officer give a shaky
presentation, Rase's fingers had accidentally brushed across his belt.

Rase's mind had been unfocused enough that the first thing it went to
was the feel of his belt, the taste of his belt, in his mouth. He had
escaped during a break and locked himself in a private bathroom to
masturbate, to try and relieve the overwhelming pressure of his
physical and mental needs. In the end, he'd taken off his belt and
shoved it in his mouth, biting down on it to stifle his noises as he
came.

Here, in the bathroom of his private jet, he did the same thing,
fumbling his belt and pants undone to free his erection. Already, there
was a wet spot on his briefs. Behind the mirror was a small medicine
cabinet, and there Rase found thick lotion that he used to keep his
skin from getting dry on long flights. When his hand was slick with it,
he stroked himself, shivering and moaning.

For a moment, all of the reasonable scenarios, all the worst-case

scenarios, of finding Gabriel went out of his mind. All Rase could think
about was Gabriel's hand across his mouth, the rush of iron and salt
and heat that followed it. He stroked slowly, reliving those moments in
his office, the shock and the blood and the steel on his wrists.

Oh, God, he needed Gabriel. Rase fucked his hand faster, his mind
skipping forward to Gabriel lying there on the bed demanding, "Fuck
me." It had been messy, completely without skill, and it had been
unbelievably good. Gabriel was a fantasy just to look at him, and then
when he opened his mouth, drenching Rase in profanity, he was
divine.

Rase slid a hand up under his shirt to pinch his own nipples as he
jerked off. He dug his nails in and twisted until tears came into his
eyes, first one side and then the other. Pre-come spattered into the
sink as he fucked his hand harder. He met his own eyes in the mirror
and gasped at the naked need he saw there. His pupils were blown,
his cheeks hot, his mouth slack with pleasure and open to let little
noises out.

He'd never watched himself before, never watched tears of pain fill up
his eyes and spill down his cheeks. He whimpered at himself, tongue
sliding uselessly along his own lips, and tightened his grip on his cock.
Gabriel, he whispered. Oh, Gabriel. He was clawing at his nipples and
biting at his lips, trying to come. In the mirror, he saw a spot of red
blossoming on his white shirt. His thighs slammed into the sink as he
came whining Gabriel's name.

Afterward, it was a nauseating cascade of loathing the likes of which

Rase hadn't experienced since he’d been on the floor of Gabriel's
apartment. He had to sit down on the toilet lid, bare ass on the
polished steel, head in his hands, and try to pull himself together. He
couldn't do this; he couldn't go down the spiral again.
He had thought he was over this, that it wouldn't be this bad again.
Reaching over, he washed the sink clean. He had work to do, and he
had to find Gabriel, and then he could decide what was going to
happen to him. With shaking hands, he took off his jacket and
returned to the bedroom to change his soiled shirt. Then he put
himself back together as best he could and returned to the main cabin
and his preparations for his next takeover. Life had to go on, at least
until Rase had a chance to consider the alternatives.

Chapter Five

Rase survived all of his meetings, he always did. If there was anything
he was good at, it was surviving when he hated himself. In the shower
every night and every morning, he scrubbed himself clean and pulled
away the fresh scabs that had formed where his nails had torn his
skin. He couldn't look at himself in the mirror. He had no idea what he
was thinking, burdening someone, burdening anyone, with himself.

Every step of the way to the plane, every minute in the air, he
questioned himself. Drinking would have eased his pain, but he
couldn't allow himself that refuge. He'd done it with Maggie, drinking
to make things go away, and it had done its damage. When he sat in
the back of the limo but was taking him to his hotel, he pondered it
again, and, as if on cue, his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Rase?" It was Maggie. Sometimes, Rase thought that she could hear
him thinking, the way that she slid back into his life when he thought
of her hard enough.

"It's me." He remembered talking with her on the phone when they
were both in college, the long phone calls that drove his father up the
wall not because of the bills but because Rase had someone to be that
close to. "Is Takis okay?" The words came out even as Rase felt a
spike of fear for his son.

"He's fine, Rase," Maggie said. Rase could hear the smile in her voice.
He could imagine her sitting at her desk in her office with her shoes
off, feet pulled up under her in her chair. "I was calling to talk to you.
I meant to call sooner, but I was in Greenland."

"Greenland?" Rase found himself relaxing with the distraction of her

voice. "You're doing business up there now?"

"No," she said. "There was this protest up there, and I had some time
off coming, and…"

Rase cut her off by laughing; he couldn't help it. It was so typically
Maggie. "You thought you'd relax a little by going and waving signs
and shouting at the oil industry?"

"I wasn't relaxing." A bit of exasperation crept into Maggie's voice. "I
was protecting the planet."

"Did you win?" Rase settled back into his seat, still smiling.

"You know it's all moral victories these days," she said dryly. "And
then I come home and find out that you gave Takis his trust fund. Are
you okay? I was worried you might be dying."

"Worse," Rase said. "I realized that I was turning into my father." He
scrubbed a hand through his hair, trying to release the tension
gnawing at his skull.

"I was hoping you'd figure that out," she said gently. "Is that all? Takis
mentioned that you and Andrea had split, not that it wasn't all over
the papers already."

Rase closed the window between himself and the driver. "I just… I had
an epiphany, I guess."

"Was a good one?" If Rase closed his eyes, he could imagine her
sitting across from him, a soft expression on her pixie face.

"Depends." Rase rubbed his free hand against his thigh to dry it. "I
realized I was still living like Dad was still alive. I shouldn't have been
living like that while he was still here."

"He wasn't a man who made things like that easy," Maggie said. "You
did your best, Rase. I know you did."

"I don't even know who I am anymore, Mags." Rase could hear the
tremor in his own voice.

"You're a good person, Rase. That's who you are." Rase wished that
they could be having this conversation in person, but maybe if they
were face to face he wouldn't have the nerve.

"There's this guy…" The words started spilling out like tears, just as
humiliating and just as much of a relief. "He used to work for me, and
now I can't find him, and I don't even know if I should be looking for
him, and I don't know what I'm doing, Mags." If they were face to
face, at least he could put his head on her shoulder for a little while.

"Oh, baby," Maggie said, and her voice was as broken as his. "I love
you, Rase. You should've called me."

"I screwed up with you so bad, Maggie," Rase said. "I was a shitty
husband to you. I don't know what happened. But I don't deserve to
just call you up out of nowhere because I fucked up my life."

"You don't get to make that decision, Rase," she said. "I do. And I say
you do deserve it. I always did. I miss you so much, not the shitty
husband thing, but the part where we were friends."

"Me, too." Rase closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "Maggie, I
screwed everything up."

"Tell me about it?" It was as though she could reach across through
the ether and put her hand on his. She had kept him afloat through
his visits home, through so many things, from the other end of the
phone.

"Everything is wrong," Rase said. "I mean, everything is wrong about

it. He can't be much older than Takis, he used to work for me until he
quit. In the stock room, of all places. I hardly even know him."

"But you feel like he knows you, don't you?" Maggie sounded like she
was smiling.

"Yes," Rase admitted, feeling sheepish and transparent.

"Maybe he feels the same way. Maybe he's afraid of you. You don't
really see yourself, Rase," Maggie said. "You don't understand what
you look like to the rest of the world. You look like you could leap tall
buildings in a single bound, catch bullets in your teeth, and buy up
New York and put in a theme park. Which, by the way, I'm totally in
favor of, if you ever feel inspired. But my point is, people worship you
and you don't even know it. It's part of your charm, but sometimes I
wish you had a clue."

Rase wasn't sure what to say. He sat there in silence a moment,

tugging at his hair. "So, I shouldn't be here in Miami looking for him?"

"Oh, Rase." Maggie laughed at him. "It's that bad, is it?"

"Yeah." Rase opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. His cheeks felt
so hot he thought his skin would blister. "It's that bad, or worse."

"Then find him and talk to him," Maggie said. "Just don't, you know,
try to buy him New York or anything. Not on the first date, anyway."

"Thanks, Maggie." Rase regretted all the years he'd kept her at arm's
length. "Are you okay with all this?"

"It's my fault if I'm not," she said. "But, yeah, I am, Rase. I'm not so
surprised. You did used to be my best friend and all. Does this mean
that maybe we can be friends again?" In that moment, Rase
remembered her at nineteen and realized that she'd been this person
all along, just waiting for him to catch up.

"I'd like that," Rase said. Just then, he felt steadier than he had in
days, a brief reprieve from his usual imbalance. "I'm sorry, Maggie,
I'm sorry for everything."

"It's a whole new life, Rase." She actually sounded excited for him,
and Rase found that he was still having trouble processing any of this
as being a good thing. "So, when do I get to throw your coming-out
party?"

Rase startled himself by laughing. It was amazing how he could go

from so low to so high so quickly with a little human contact. "Can we
talk about it when I get back?"

"You mean we're actually going to talk? Like real people?" Maggie
laughed at him again. "Jordan -- you remember Jordan, don't you? --
opened a new restaurant up by the college. We could have dinner
some time."
"I'd like that, Mags." Rase stretched his legs out across the soft
leather seats and leaned back. "Like real people. As soon as I can."

"Call me if you need me, baby." Maggie had that certain tone that
threatened dire consequences if he didn't. "I've got a meeting for the
new vegan leather division; I just wanted to get in touch again."

"I will." It was hard to remember when he got low. "Thanks for
calling."

"What are friends for?" There was the noise of her kissing the phone, a
laugh, and then she was gone.

Rase pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and cracked it open, then
used his heel to open up the sunroof with the button on the center
console. It was a classic Miami day, blue-gold and hot. Rase let the
sun shine on him and tried to hold onto the warmth he felt inside from
talking to Maggie.

***

Rase couldn't sleep all that night. He sat out on the balcony under the
stars, a glass of scotch in one hand and a cigar in the other, and tried
to think of what his life would be like if Gabriel turned him away. He
blew smoke at the stars, watching it spiral into the dark. He supposed
that he would learn how to do what he'd done before when he was
young, how to find someone to give him what he needed. He couldn't
imagine finding someone like Gabriel again; he didn't want to, really,
because of what it was doing to his life.

Slowly, he was piecing together fragments of memory from that night,

remembering what it was like to lean on Gabriel and to be cared for.
The pain had torn him apart and the comfort had put him back
together wrong so that he no longer fit into his life. What was he
doing, opening up the same Pandora's box by hunting Gabriel down?
He could stop now and find his balance.

No matter how he tried to talk himself out of it, the one thing that
kept him on his course was the thought that, maybe, he had hurt
Gabriel somehow in all of this. He didn't have a right to do that to
Gabriel. Gabriel could always send him away. Now he was back to
wondering how he would live if that happened. It was easier than
trying to think of how he would live if it didn't.

Rase was still sitting on the balcony when the sun started to color the
sky. He pushed himself to his feet and went in to take a shower. His
hands were unsteady as he shaved and washed. He hadn't been this
nervous in years, maybe not since the morning of his wedding to
Maggie. It was ludicrous that he should care so much at his age. At
least there was no one here to laugh.

He was trying to decide what shirt to wear when his phone rang. Allen
was checking up on him.

"Is it important?" Rase asked as soon as he had the phone to his ear.

"Not necessarily, sir," Allen said crisply. "I thought you should know
that the quotes from the contractors regarding the India development
have all been submitted. Also, there's a request for an interview with
you from…" There was a rustling of papers. "… some journal. I seem to
have misplaced the memo, feel free to blame me, sir."

Rase laughed at that. "I assume they want to get a sound bite from
me regarding things with Andrea. Is anyone going to believe me if I
say I'm too bereft to make a statement?"

"It has been a couple weeks, sir," Alan pointed out. "You're not a man
noted for his long periods of bereavement."

"Fair enough," Rase said. "I suppose it's disrespectful to her to

continue to keep my silence on it. Have them send me a few
questions, and I'll answer them as best I can. Was that everything?"

"Just checking in, sir," Allen said. Rase wondered if he could detect a
hint of sheepishness in Allen's voice.

"I see." All this time, Rase had been under the impression that Allen
was simply very good at his job but was coming to understand that
Allen might have a certain affection for him, in a companionable way,
and he'd simply never noticed it before. He never assumed that other
people would feel that way about him. "I'm okay, Allen. For some
value of it, at least. I'd feel better if I knew what shirt to wear."

"I don't suppose there's any way I can talk you out of wearing a suit,
sir?" Now, Allen was resigned.
"I don't have anything else packed," Rase said. "Unless I'm going to
wear a golfing outfit."

"Not a golfing outfit," Allen said hastily. "Perhaps you could consider
not wearing a tie, sir. And, if you were so inclined, when you get back
you might take the time to peruse some catalogs of more casual
clothing. I could arrange to have some ready for you."

"Not helping my insecurity here, Allen," Rase pointed out. Did he look
too old in a suit? Was Maggie right? Were people afraid of him?

"You have nothing to be insecure about, sir, I promise." Rase could

see the tolerant look on Allen's face in his mind's eye. "It's just that an
open collar can be very attractive."

"I'll keep it in mind." Rase looked at the shirts that he had laid out on
the bed. "I seem to have acquired a purple shirt, Allen."

"Lilac, sir," Allen corrected primly. "It should go very nicely with your
skin tone."

"I'll wear that one then, shall I?"

"If you like." Allen sounded magnificently indifferent, and Rase could
just imagine the dismissive wave of his hand.

"Lilac it is," Rase said, resigning himself to the idea. He wasn't the one
who had to look at it. "With the light gray?"

"You are in Miami, sir," Allen said. "Perhaps you should consider
purchasing a white suit sometime."

"One step at a time, Allen." There was only so much adventure that
Rase could handle in one day. "Was that all?"

"Yes, sir," Allen said. He hesitated a moment and then added, "Good
luck, sir."

"Thank you, Allen. For everything." Rase had never expected support
from that quarter, but he was grateful for it.

"Of course, sir, anytime."

When the line went dead, Rase was on to the next stage of the
struggle, alone. He wanted to get to the small office where Gabriel's
cousin had a business before the working day got under way. He
needed to get this over with.

***

Rase took a cab to the address that Allen had found and found himself
in a colorful little neighborhood. It was the kind of place he never
went; you had to be a tourist, or visitor, to come into a neighborhood
like this. Rase was never a tourist, and he never went to visit anyone
he didn't have to. He had always told himself that he didn't have time.
Really, he simply didn't have anyone to visit.

"Wait here," Rase said to the driver. "I shouldn't be more than a few
minutes." He didn't want to get stranded without a cab in an
unfamiliar place.

"Whatever you want," the driver said. He turned up the radio, settled
back in his seat, and closed his eyes.

Rase got out and stood there a moment looking at the painted
windows of Soto Pool Cleaning. It was a tiny shop set in a white
building with cheerful blue waves and a dolphin painted on the
window. When Rase pulled the door open, bells jingled brightly. There
were stacks of pool cleaning supplies arranged neatly and a little
counter with a cash register.

"Tony," a voice in the back said, "I told you, go around to the back to
pick up the chemicals. Every time, I tell you."

"I'm not Tony," Rase said. He pulled his sunglasses off and tucked
them in the breast pocket of his jacket, ruining the line and quite
possibly irritating Allen even at a distance of several thousand miles.
"I'm looking for someone I think works here." The sound of children
laughing outside startled him. He realized first how nervous he was
and then that it had been years since he heard that sound.

"Sorry about that." A lean man with crisp black hair and a dark tan,
dressed in a garish orange and yellow shirt and jeans, came out of the
back. He was handsome, even taking the broken nose and old acne
scars into account. He wore several gold chains around his neck, all
but one holding some sort religious icon. When he took Rase in, his
demeanor changed slightly, growing wary. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for someone named Gabriel." Rase was surprised at how
calm he sounded. "I understand he works here now."

"Who's asking?" The man leaned on the counter and crossed his arms
over his chest.

Rase decided to go with the truth. "Rase Illion," he said, extending his
hand to the man in greeting.

After a moment's hesitation, the man took his hand and shook it.
"Alex Soto," he said grudgingly. "What do you want Gabriel?"

"We used to work together," Rase said. It was close enough to the
truth. "I was just hoping to see him again while I was in town."

"You a lawyer?" Alex asked, crossing his arms over his chest again.

It was an odd question. "No," Rase said. "Farthest thing from it. Look,
I just had this address and I figured I'd come by and see if he was
around. If he's not working today, it's no big deal." Rase had the
feeling that if he offered the man money for the information, he'd only
blow the whole thing. He tried to stay relaxed while he waited for Alex
to make up his mind.

"Gabe doesn't come into the office," Alex said. "Not unless he runs out
of supplies." He stood there and stared at Rase, contented to take his
time to decide what he was going to let Rase have. "You said you were
a friend of his?"

"I was just hoping I could take him to lunch while I was in town," Rase
said. "That's all."

"You were his boss," Alex said, giving Rase a look that said Rase was
an idiot for thinking he could pull one over on Alex.

Rase ran a hand through his hair inside. "Yes, I was," he admitted. "I
felt bad about the way he left and…" Alex's fist came round and caught
Rase in the jaw before Rase had any idea that it was coming. He hit a
stack of buckets of chlorine pucks and went sprawling. "What the
fuck?" Blood flooded Rase's mouth, and he struggled to get his feet.
"Get out of my shop," Alex said, stepping back behind the counter and
reaching under it. "You have some fucking nerve coming here after
you fired him."

"Jesus Christ." Rase finally made it to his feet. "I did not fire him. The
last thing I wanted was for him to quit. I was coming here to try and
get him to take his job back."

"You were?" Rase could see the stock of the shotgun in Alex's hands
just over the edge of the counter.

"Hell, yes," Rase said. "Not like he couldn't get a better job than
stockboy somewhere, not that this isn't better, but at the very least I
wanted to apologize."

"You're not a law firm guy?"

"Look. You can have my business card. It doesn't say lawyer anywhere
on it." Rase didn't move to get his wallet until Alex nodded. He pulled
out the clip of business cards and tossed them onto the counter. Alex
made an approving face as he ran his thumb over the gold-inlaid silver
clip.

"Rase Illion, President and CEO of Illion Industries," Alex read slowly.
"Gabe isn't a stockboy; he's a fucking lawyer," he said, looking over at
Rase again.

"He didn't say a thing about it on his resume," Rase said. He was in
too much shock to even be shaking. "He only worked for my company
for a few months. He quit after we had a run-in, when it was my fault,
not his. He didn't do anything wrong. I found out he quit, and I felt
terrible that the guy lost his job because I had an off day. Can I… can
I get a handkerchief out, please?" Maybe it was the whole damn family
that went around hitting people.

Alex looked perplexed, but he put the gun away under the counter.
"Yeah, sorry about that. I thought… Gabe said he got fired from his
law firm."

"I don't know anything about that," Rase said. He pulled a

handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped at his mouth, then spat
blood into it. "I was just trying to do the right thing."
"Look, Gabe has this thing where he won't carry a cell phone and shit
like that." Alex looked very nervous now. He held Rase's business
cards out to him and Rase crossed the store cautiously to take them
back. "I can tell you where he is, but otherwise, he has a list of jobs
and he won't be back until late."

"I don't mind trying to catch up with him." Rase tucked the business
cards away again and tried to straighten himself out. Why he bothered
with his appearance was beyond him, maybe he should've let Allen or
Allen's friends take care of this. He was only fucking it up. "If you
don't mind."

Alex was scribbling something down onto a piece of paper. "Here's

where he's going to be," Alex said, handing the paper over when he
was done. "If you wanted to leave a business card for him, I could
give it to him in case you don't catch up to him."

Rase fished a card out again and handed it over as he took the paper
from Alex. "I appreciate this," he said without sarcasm. There were
three addresses on the paper; Rase assumed they were Gabriel's jobs
for the day. Whatever the hell had been going on with Gabriel before
he got to Rase, Rase wanted to know about it. If all went well, he'd
ask some time, when he got the chance.

"Yeah." Alex looked decidedly uncomfortable.

"Don't worry," Rase said. "The whole punching incident can be our
little secret." He wiped his mouth again with a handkerchief and gave
Alex a rueful grin.

"All right then," Alex said. He still looked unhappy, but Rase thought it
was safe enough to turn his back on the man and leave.

The cab was still there when Rase got outside. The sun cut into his
eyes and made his pounding head throb, so he put the sunglasses
back on and got in. He collapsed into the back seat and closed the
door, then gave the cabbie the first address.

"You okay?" The cabbie was looking at Rase in the rearview mirror,
frowning.

"I'm fine," Rase said. "Just drive."

Chapter Six

The neighborhood where the first address was located was much more
within Rase's realm of experience. He felt himself relax, however
subtly, as the car drove down winding lanes between vast expanses of
groomed lawn and sculpted barriers of greenery. The gates of the
private drive beyond the numbered pillar where the cabbie turned
were open, and they pulled up in front of a desperately ostentatious
mansion.

"Keep going around to the staff drive," Rase ordered. "I want to go to
the back." The cabbie pulled around and stopped. A glance at the
meter told Rase that the fare had passed well into the three-digit
range. He pulled off a few bills from the folded stack in his clip and
handed them over. "Thanks."

"You want me to wait?"

"I may be a while," Rase said.

"I got time," the cabbie said, shrugging.

"Wait out on the street, then," Rase said, passing over a twenty dollar
bill.

"Sure."

When Rase got out, he walked past a battered white van and was
several steps beyond it before he realized that it had the Soto dolphin
painted on the side. All of a sudden, he felt unsteady. How could
someone who had been through so much, who had as much money as
he did, feel like a twelve-year-old on the way to the principal's office,
or worse? He dried his hands off and made himself keep going.

The backyard was beautiful. It was like walking through the Garden of
Eden; Rase could make out the blue of the pool beyond palm trees
and flowering bushes arranged as though they stood around an oasis.
He crossed a patio and followed a winding stone path between two
over-arching trees. There, in the shade, he stopped.
Gabriel was working at the far end of the pool by the pool house. All of
the equipment was piled up there, and Gabriel was stripped down to a
pair of baggy old khaki shorts, scooping fallen leaves and hapless
insects out of the flawless blue water. Rase stood there and watched
him, feeling his heart pound against his ribs, trying to memorize the
lines of Gabriel's golden body in the sun in case he never saw it again.
Gabriel, unaware, went on working.

Finally, Rase couldn't stand at attention anymore and he stepped

forward, hands in his pockets to hide the way they were shaking, and
started around the pool. Gabriel caught sight of him and, at first,
obviously didn't recognize him. Setting the net down, Gabriel took a
few steps toward Rase, drying his hands off on his shorts.

"Sorry," Gabriel said. "I was told no one was going to be here today.
Did you need to…"

Gabriel stopped talking as Rase took off his sunglasses so that Gabriel
could see his face clearly. Gabriel stood there like a statue, the wind
tugging at his hair, and stared at Rase. He didn't look angry, he didn't
look happy, he looked horrified.

"Can I talk to you?" Rase asked. He knew his voice shook and he
didn't care.

"How did you find me?" Now, Gabriel's expression was shifting to
anger. He crossed his arms over his chest and took a step back.

"I don't know." Rase stopped and put his hands in his pockets again.
"I had someone else do it for me. I didn't know how. He found your
cousin's business, and your cousin told me where you were." God, but
Gabriel was beautiful. Rase hadn't even had the time to study his
features, the line of his jaw and the curve of his lips and the arch of
his brows. Just looking at him made Rase ache.

"I don't work for you anymore." Rase could see the tension in Gabriel's
arms, the way it radiated down from his clenched jaw.

"You didn't have to quit."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Gabriel's voice cracked with anger, and
for a moment Rase thought that Gabriel was going to hit him, but
Gabriel seemed to pull back into himself at the last moment.
"No," Rase said. "I didn't want you to leave."

"No, I guess you fucking didn't." Gabriel's laugh was bitter. He shook
his head and turned away. "Fuck you, just… Fuck you."

"I didn't want you to stay, either." Rase was desperate for Gabriel to
understand. "I wouldn't have treated you any different, not if you'd
told me you didn't want me to. I didn't mean to make you leave."

Gabriel picked up the net again but threw it down as soon as he

straightened up. "You're telling me you didn't expect me to do that
again? I told you, I know your type. You were probably just thrilled as
hell at the idea that you could have me on call for stress relief
whenever big business got a little too rough for you."

"What I wanted and what I expected were two different things." Rase
had to force himself to stay where he was, to let Gabriel come and go
and rage freely. "Yes, I wanted to see you again, but only if you
wanted it. I waited a week before I even looked for you again. You
didn't have to leave."

There was no way of salvaging this, Rase thought. All he could do was
try and make amends. "I'm sorry. I didn't think those things of you at
all, but I did want you again, so much. No one made me feel like that
in nearly thirty years. I apologize for all of it. I suppose that's the
most important thing I had to say. I'm sorry. I won't bother you
again."

At least he had his answers. Rase could feel himself shutting down,
and he was grateful for it. This way, he would make it back to his
hotel before he fell apart. He turned his back on Gabriel's incredulous
expression and started to walk away.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Gabriel's voice was a
whip that stopped Rase in his tracks. "Turn around." Rase wasn't sure
he could have refused; he just knew he didn't want to. When he did,
Gabriel was stalking toward him. "Knees."

Rase's knees flared with agony as they hit the flagstones, his hands
knotted into fists at his sides. He didn't care what he looked like. His
mind was too full of Gabriel and his golden fury, too full of hope.
"Jesus Christ," Gabriel said again, and this time he sounded broken.
By the time he was standing in front of Rase, his anger was falling
apart. "Jesus fucking Christ." He looked so lost, and he reached out to
touch Rase's mouth with his fingertips. "Who did that to you?"

"Your cousin," Rase said, trying not to show the way Gabriel's touch
made him shiver. He mustered up what he could of a smile. "It's far
more charming when you do it."

Gabriel stepped back a pace, pressing the back of one hand to his
mouth as he laughed like he was about to cry. "He hit you?"

"He thought I fired you." Rase wanted to get up and find some way to
comfort Gabriel but they were in it now and had to play this out to the
end. "At least tell me why you left."

"You…" Gabriel gestured helplessly. "It was you."

"What did I do?" Rase felt on the verge of tears himself. "Did I do
something wrong?"

"No. Fuck, no." Gabriel slid his hands into Rase's hair and tugged,
jerking his own head back so that he was facing the sky. "No. You did
everything right."

"Then why…?" It was everything Rase could do not to crawl to

Gabriel's feet, just to touch him.

"I never met anyone as naked as you." Gabriel rounded on him, half-
furious and half-despairing. "I never met anyone I believed the way I
believed you wanted me, wanted what we did." He was back in front
of Rase in two strides; he reached out and grabbed a handful of Rase's
hair, wrenching Rase’s head back and staring down at him. "I fucked
you over and you took it like you couldn't get enough."

"I can't." Rase's voice was thick with need and shame. "I hate myself
for it, and I can't. I tried so hard to put it all behind me and you just…
it was so good. I'm so sorry. I'm weak."

"No, you're not." Gabriel touched Rase's bruised mouth reverently, his
eyes on Rase's face hot and hungry. "You are so fucking brave. I'm
the one who got scared."
"You don't need to be afraid of me," Rase whispered. He dared to kiss
Gabriel's work-rough fingertips. "I would never do anything to you.
How could I scare you?"

"Do you know how perfect you are?" Gabriel twisted his hand in Rase's
hair and Rase's eyes slipped half-shut as he moaned involuntarily.
"Like that. I don't even know you. I'm fucking nobody. And then you
get down on your fucking knees and make me into the goddamn
universe. Not because you can afford it, but because you can't help it.
Oh, Christ, Rase, that is so fucking hot. You made me want it, too." He
wrenched at Rase's hair, then let go, shoving Rase's head to the side
as he backed away.

Rase's breath was coming so fast and shallow he could hardly speak.
"I'm sorry," he said again. He could see the terrible mix of emotions in
Gabriel's face and he was truly so sorry.

"I did this to you, you did this to me… how the fuck could I ever find
someone like you again?" Gabriel hooked two fingers in Rase's lower
lip and twisted, tearing at the split and the bruise until blood welled up
again. Rase was so hard he was afraid he was going to come in his
pants; he could see Gabriel's erection straining at the loose fabric of
his shorts. "Oh, God." Gabriel pulled his fingers away and looked at
the blood on them, then at Rase.

"It's okay," Rase said, echoing what Gabriel had said to him, that he'd
needed so much to hear. His voice was barely more than a raw
exhalation, but Gabriel heard him. "I'm right here."

Gabriel's eyes were unfocused, the clear-water iris almost lost in the
blackness of his pupils. He licked his fingers clean with a moan,
shuddering all the way through. His nipples were hard, his skin rough
as though with a chill, and a dark spot was spreading slowly where his
cock pressed against his shorts. Rase couldn't help the little noises
that came from him with every exhalation or the shivers that ran
through him as blood tracked sluggishly down his chin.

Gabriel swayed as he looked back down at Rase, then grabbed a

handful of Rase's hair as if he could steady himself that way. Hand
tight in Rase's hair, he grabbed Rase's jaw with the other hand and
turned his head to the side, then leaned down and licked Rase's chin
clean. He followed the trail of blood back into Rase's mouth and kissed
Rase with a snarl, licking the iron taste out of Rase's mouth.
Rase's hips kept rocking involuntarily, humping the air, he was so
turned on. His nails were crescents of pain against his palms that sent
sparks thrilling through his blood. He could feel everything; his shirt
against his nipples, his belt -- oh, God, the belt -- tight around his
waist, his knees throbbing against the edges of the flagstones. When
Gabriel pulled his mouth away, Rase was left whining and licking at
the air to try and get another taste of him.

Gabriel let go of Rase's jaw and undid his shorts with a flick of his
wrist. He was wearing nothing underneath, and his cock swayed just
in front of Rase's mouth as his shorts slid down. Gabriel dragged
Rase's mouth onto his cock and got both hands in Rase's hair as Rase
started sucking desperately. Gabriel grunted and started fucking,
careless of the way he made Rase gag and choke.

It was better than any fantasy Rase had conjured up. Here in the
pristine backyard of some stranger, he was on his knees with his
mouth full of Gabriel's cock, drooling blood and spit with every hard
thrust that made him gag. Gabriel pulled out once, making Rase cry
out, and gave Rase a stinging slap before pushing back in.

"Look at me," Gabriel growled, and Rase did. Oh, God, he was so
beautiful with the blue sky behind him and his hair full of the sun.
"Don't come. Don't you fucking come."

Rase blinked away tears and tried to nod as Gabriel thrust in so deep
that he couldn't breathe anymore. That alone had Rase on the verge,
and he made frantic noises as his body tried to cough up Gabriel's
cock and get in air. Gabriel moaned like he'd been wounded and pulled
out enough to let Rase inhale before picking up the pace again.

"Fuck. Oh, fuck, oh, Christ." In mere moments, Gabriel was babbling,
eyes fixed on Rase. Rase's mouth was awash in the taste of Gabriel's
pre-come, and it was making him shake. "God, God, God…" Gabriel
looked young and terrified right then. "Oh, God, Rase." He pushed in
as deep as he could and held himself there, coming as Rase swallowed
over and over again around the head of his cock.

Gabriel pushed Rase away when he was done, shuffling back a few
steps with his shorts around his knees. He was reaching for breath
with broken gasps; when he pulled up his shorts, his hands were
shaking. Rase made himself stay still, so still, even when Gabriel
turned around and took a few unsteady steps away.

"We can't do this," Gabriel said. He covered his face with his hands
and tilted his head back like he was praying.

Rase had to force his mind to work, then his voice. "Tell me what you
need. Please? Anything." All of a sudden, coming was the least of his
worries.

"Fuck, I want you. I just can't. I'm so tired of not knowing anyone…
just, not existing." Gabriel sounded like he was broken.

Orders or not, Rase wiped his face on his sleeve and got to his feet.
The pain in his knees brought fresh tears to his eyes, but he made it
to Gabriel's side. I used to be a whore. That how I know I'm not one
now. "You can know me," he said, putting his arm around Gabriel even
as his mind was screaming at him that he didn't know what he was
doing, that he was going to ruin it all. "You exist to me. I was worried
about you."

Rase didn't know what he was doing, but all he could do was keep
going, drawing Gabriel into his arms the way that Gabriel had held
him. When Gabriel turned into his embrace and let Rase hold him up,
pushing his covered face into the curve of Rase's neck, Rase was more
stunned than the first time Gabriel had hit him. He stroked Gabriel's
hair and held on to him.

"Let me take you to lunch, to dinner, to Paris, I don't care. Just to

talk." He could feel Gabriel's outrage and despair in the tension of his
shoulders and back; all he could do was hold on. "It's okay," he said.
"It's going to be fine." Rase's own panic faded and he relaxed, his
breathing slowing, being soothed by the contact even as he kept
soothing Gabriel.

"I'm sorry," Gabriel said at last. He didn't pull away, though, just
rested his head on Rase's shoulder and his hands against Rase's chest.

"Don't be. I'm not." Rase didn't dare kiss him, no matter how much he
wanted to. "I would have come here just for this." He knew it, and all
he could do was hope Gabriel knew it, too.

"Sorry about the other?" Gabriel's tone was dry.

"Oh, hell, no." Rase felt his cheeks flush and he nuzzled into Gabriel's
hair. He hadn't even come, but that didn't mean he didn't get what he
needed.

"Fuck." Gabriel exhaled, and he was so limp against Rase that Rase
was frightened until he spoke. "Me, either. Fuck, no." They stood there
a long time, until Gabriel inhaled sharply and straightened. "Alex is
going to kill me if I don't get back to work."

"I meant it about dinner," Rase said, letting him go. It was so hard to
step away when he had just found Gabriel again.

"I could meet you somewhere." Gabriel shoved his hands in his
pockets like he was trying to keep from touching Rase, and that was a
small consolation.

"Anywhere."

Gabriel thought about it for a minute and then nodded. "Club Jack on
14th Street. I'll see you there at ten. I said I'd have dinner with the
family tonight."

"I'll be there," Rase promised.

"Okay." Gabriel was looking at Rase like he was trying to figure out if
Rase was telling the truth but then he nodded and turned away.

It didn't hurt to walk away this time. Not so much, anyway. Rase
walked down to the street and found the cabbie waiting there.

"You're havin' a bad day there, mister," the man said, and Rase
realized that he must look even worse than before.

"Nothing I didn't deserve," he muttered.

"Gotta admire a man who takes his licks." The cabbie flipped the
meter on and pulled away from the curve. Rase adjusted his jacket to
cover up the mess on his shirt and looked out the window, trying not
to smile.

Chapter Seven
Rase was back at the hotel by the time that he remembered that he
had nothing in his suitcase except for a multitude of suits and several
golfing outfits that even he understood were not acceptable for
general wear. The first order of business was to remove the lilac shirt
and plunge it in some cold water so that the blood stains on it wouldn't
set. The second order of business was to drink a large glass of scotch
without any ice.

With business taken care of, Rase collapsed on the bed and reached
for his phone. He had no idea where he was going or what he should
wear to get there. He had never relied on Allen quite so much for
these things before. He wondered whether or not, far back during the
hiring process, some instinct had told him that he would need Allen's
perspective on these things at some later date.

"Good afternoon, sir," Allen said briskly. "What can I do for you?"

"I need clothes, Allen." Rase stared at the ceiling and prodded his
swollen lip absently.

"Where might you be going, sir?" Rase could hear Allen's fingers on his
keyboard.

"Some club or something." Rase gestured vaguely as though Allen

could see him. "Jack on 14th St. Ten o'clock."

"Ah," Allen said knowingly. He sounded approving. "Excellent choice,

sir."

"I didn't pick it," Rase said. "Gabriel did."

"Oh." Allen was quiet a moment. "Good news then, sir?"

"It won't be if I don't have anything to wear." Rase ran a hand through
his hair, torn between feeling giddy and feeling despairing. He was far
too old to be lying here with aching balls and a churning stomach,
trying to decide what to wear on a date.

"Don't worry, sir," Allen said in a soothing tone. "The place in question
is a bit of a roadhouse, but it should be somewhat quiet tonight, this
being the middle of the week and all. I'll just send you a selection of
clothing. There's a chance you'll want something to wear another time,
I hope."

"I'm trying not to think about that," Rase said.

"Some of the things I'm going to send you will be appropriate, and
some of them won't," Allen said, chattering almost aimlessly as his
fingers flew over the keys. "The thing about The Jack is that you want
to look good, but we can't have you looking too gay." As soon as the
word was out of his mouth, Allen was silent. Then, "Sir, I'm…"

"Not too gay, Allen," Rase said, trying not to laugh, but feeling a little
horrified himself. He covered his eyes with his hand and shook his
head. He'd never had to worry about anything like that before, or at
least he thought he didn't. "Not that I have a problem with it, or that
it's an incorrect evaluation, Allen, but has this been a concern with my
choice of clothing before?"

"I… I, no, sir… Sir." Rase had never heard Allen so flustered before.

"Allen, cut that out," Rase said flatly. "It's fine. I prefer your honest
assessment of things to dancing around the truth. I've had quite
enough of that in the last forty years. Send me some clothes. I'm not
going to make it through this date if you don't help me out a little."

Allen was silent a little longer. "Thank you, sir." He sounded very
subdued. "I suggest that you wear a pair of jeans and one of the sport
coats I'm selecting for you. The leather one would not be
inappropriate, but I think you'd look particularly handsome in the
white."

"It's nice to know I'm still capable of looking handsome, much less
particularly handsome, anyway." Ridiculously, that did make Rase feel
a little better.

"If you're willing to accept an honest assessment, sir," Allen said,

hesitating between words but gaining courage as he went, "I think
you're an exceptionally handsome man who has no reason to stay
single any longer than he wishes to. I'm certain that, should the need
ever arise, I could find you any number of interested parties."

"I appreciate that, Allen." Now Rase felt even better; compliments
were ridiculously effective, from the right person, it seemed. He
received any number of them that he didn't believe, but he thought he
might begin to take the occasional compliment seriously, especially if
it were from someone he trusted. "Anything else I should keep in
mind?"

"Well." There was a long pause before Allen spoke again. "If this is a
date, sir, you might consider visiting the pharmacy on your way out.
Since it's my understanding that you aren't generally in the habit of
dating."

It took Rase an embarrassingly long time to work out what Allen

meant. "Oh," he said, rolling his eyes at himself. "Yes, thank you, I'll
keep that in mind." His cheeks were suddenly extremely warm.
"Anything else?"

"Make sure you have a decent amount of cash on you," Allen advised.
"And I would take your own car and driver tonight."

"I'll make sure to do that," Rase said. "Thank you, Allen."

"Any time, sir. You can call me if there's anything else you need."
Rase realized that Allen wasn't simply mouthing words, his tone wasn't
light enough for that, but that Allen was making an offer the way a
friend might.

"Thanks. I will." Rase was going to have to think of something nice to

do for him, but not something that insulted the genuine offer of
friendship.

"Good luck, sir," Allen said before he hung up.

Rase hauled himself up off the bed and headed for the shower to
wash. It occurred to him, as he stripped off his clothes, that he and
Gabriel hadn't been particularly careful. He hadn't even thought of
that, he'd been so wound up with everything else, and those concerns
simply hadn't been in his life in the past.

He stepped into the shower and turned it on hot. Did he need to

worry? Did he trust Gabriel? Rase felt like a raging idiot for forgetting.
It would have been different if it were a conscious choice. Yes, he
trusted Gabriel. That wasn't a concern. Gabriel had trusted him,
though, and Rase hadn't even thought about taking care of either of
them. He would make sure not to do that again.
It was a whole new world, and Rase wondered if he were up to it. He
would have to be, he supposed. He'd already come farther than he
had ever imagined. As he washed himself clean, he realized that he'd
been so busy worrying about his date with Gabriel and what he was
going to wear that he hadn't stopped to hate himself for what they'd
done by the pool.

When he thought back on it, all he saw was warmth, warmth that
made him hard and breathless. He ran his hands through his hair and
turned his face up to the water. When he swallowed, his throat hurt,
and that just added to the glow. It had been perfect, everything he
wanted, even though he hadn't come. He wasn't going to, either.

Once he was clean, Rase stepped out of the shower and dried himself
off. He had plenty to do before ten o'clock. He could keep himself
busy, keep his hands busy, until Gabriel wanted him. If Gabriel wanted
him. And, in spite of all his insecurities, he thought Gabriel might.

***

Rase was an ill temper by ten o'clock. He left instructions with his
driver to wait and, adjusting the jacket that Allen had told him to
wear, he stepped into the bar. It was, as Allen had said, a roadhouse.
But it was fairly clean, and Rase wondered if this were the kind of
place that Takis liked to go and play.

There was no sign of Gabriel, so he took a seat where he could see the
door and settled in. For a change of pace, he ordered bourbon, and sat
there making the ice chime in the glass between sips while he waited.
Fortunately, there didn't seem to be any ban on smoking here, so
Rase pulled out one of the Cuban cigars given to him by a colleague
and lit up. The taste of the alcohol and tobacco calmed him some, and
he wondered what he must look like to the other patrons. After all
these years, he was suddenly ridiculously self-conscious.

A handful of frat boys tumbled in, voices raised, pummeling each other
affectionately on the way to the bar. Rase understood what Allen had
been getting at with the question of how Rase should be dressed for
the evening. Life was considerably more complicated when Rase
stepped out of his usual sphere of upper class power brokers and
multimillionaires.

Every time the door opened, Rase started a little. He was just getting
used to it when Gabriel walked in. Rase felt like the bottom of his
stomach had fallen out. Gabriel looked young and fresh, his tan dark
against the white of his shirt. Every time Rase saw him, he felt a rush
of adrenaline and need. He made himself stay sitting until Gabriel
drew close, then stood and offered Gabriel his hand.

"Glad you made it," Gabriel said as he took Rase's hand and shook it.
It was very ordinary, and yet the touch felt like it shifted the world all
over again.

"I said I'd be here," Rase said. He reluctantly let Gabriel go and took
his seat again. He pulled the cigar case out of his inner pocket, the
case that had belonged to his father, steel and brass worn smooth by
years of hands, and offered Gabriel a cigar.

Gabriel hesitated, then accepted. He clipped the end with Rase's

clipper, then leaned forward and let Rase light it for him. "Thanks.
What are you having?" He gestured at Rase's glass.

"Bourbon," Rase said.

The waitress came by just then and Gabriel waved her down. "Two
more of the same," he said, pointing at Rase's glass. "Make them both
doubles."

When she was gone, they sat facing each other across the table.
Desire and anxiety warred in Rase's gut; Gabriel was so close and so
far, Rase had never known the real name of any man he'd ever done
that with before. That. Submission. Masochism. It was time that Rase
started calling it what it was. It was time he started to make things
real.

"Are you okay?" It surprised Rase that those words came out of his
mouth, but then he realized that he did have some business asking
them.

"Yeah," Gabriel said. He wasn't looking at Rase, though; he was

staring at the cigar instead of smoking it.

"I didn't really have any right to come after you," Rase said. "I know
that. I did it because I had the money and the people to do it. I meant
it when I said that I would go if you wanted me to."
"I can't say I'm glad you did," Gabriel said. He drew on the cigar,
inhaling smoke, then leaned back and let it escape into the air
between them. "But I don't want you to go. Not right now. I'm still
thinking about it."

"That's okay." Rase could feel the age difference between them, and it
wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Once the frantic cascade of loathing in
his head had calmed, Rase was starting to be able to put things in
perspective. "I did want to make sure that you were okay."

"Why?" Gabriel looked at Rase challengingly in the silence that

followed while the waitress brought them their drinks. Rase handed
her several bills, hardly looking at them.

"Keep them coming," he said. "Tip yourself and tell me when you run
out of money."

"I don't see how a man like you has any trouble finding friends,"
Gabriel said bluntly. "At least, the kind of friends that'll do anything
you want."

"I don't want those kinds of friends." Rase picked up his glass and
drank half the bourbon in one swallow. "I wanted to make sure you
were okay because I didn't want anyone else paying for the way that I
couldn't keep my life in order. I didn't want any of this. I tried really,
really fucking hard to never even think about it again. I made a mess
of my life, but at least I never embarrassed my father more than
once."
"Should I apologize?" Gabriel took a drink, then shrugged. "I seem to
recall from the company literature that he's dead."

"He is," Rase said. "I don't think I realized it until you came along."

Gabriel looked at him a long time through the curls of cigar smoke
veiling the air between them. "And I fucked everything up for you."

"No." Rase actually laughed and startled himself. Maybe it was the
bourbon, but he felt warm, more real than he had in public in years,
and he relaxed back into his chair. "No," he said. "You didn't. Not
when…" He stopped, realizing he couldn't say it out loud, not here.
"After. No one ever did that for me before. No one ever said those
things. I believed you. It was like you knew about a world I didn't
even know existed, much less that I could live in it, when you spoke."

"Someone should have said it," Gabriel said, sounding a little stubborn
and not looking at Rase at all. His arms were crossed over his chest,
his face turned away, but there was something about him that Rase
thought spoke of not just listening but hearing and feeling.

"I left my wife." Rase held a hand up when Gabriel's head whipped
around. "Not for you, not about you. Because I was using her.
Because I hated what I was so much that I would do anything to cover
it up, even marry someone I didn't love. So I broke it off with her
because I didn't think anything would get better if I didn't."

"I guess that's a good thing, then," Gabriel said. He was watching the
young men frolicking at the bar again, not looking at Rase.

"She doesn't think so right now," Rase said. "I think she will in time, I
hope. I never wanted to hurt her. Anyway, you didn't screw anything
up. You didn't need to leave your job. I didn't want to hurt you,
either."

"I don't understand you." Gabriel's jaw was tight, and the tension
radiated down into his shoulders.

"What's there to understand?" Rase leaned forward and tapped the

ash off of his cigar and then took another drink. "I told you, I don't
have a type. I tried to, but I'm bad at it."

"What do you want from me?" Now Gabriel did look at him, eyes hard
and stony, fear written in the lines of his face.

"Anything you want," Rase said. Gabriel's expression darkened and

Rase held up a hand. "I want to know who you are. I want you to
spend time with me because you want to. I want things to be even
between us, somehow. And I want more of what we already had."
Rase didn't try to hide the way his expression shifted to become
wanting. "I want anything you want to do me. Please," he added, ever
so softly.

Rase could see the way Gabriel's eyes widened at the last word,
watched him cover it up by taking a drink. Gabriel didn't speak for a
long minute. He smoked, he swirled the ice in his glass, watching it go
around and around.

"I don't know if or when I'm coming back," Gabriel said at last.

"Okay," Rase said, fighting back a chill. "Does that mean you don't
want to see me again?"

"No." Gabriel finally looked at Rase again. Rase couldn't breathe until
Gabriel spoke again. "No. If you wanted to," he said, haltingly, "I'd
want to see you again."

Rase felt as though someone had cut all of his strings. "I could come
down here once in a while," he said, trying to keep the tremor of relief
out of his voice. "The weather is good and…" Rase stopped and
gestured vaguely, trying to keep his composure. "You're here," he
finished softly. "Is that too creepy?" He looked over at the Gabriel
from under his lashes.

"Surreal," Gabriel said. "Not creepy." He finished his drink and flagged
the waitress down for another.

Rase was momentarily enamored of Gabriel's hands. They were so

graceful and strong. Not hands that Rase would've associated with a
lawyer. "Were you really a lawyer?" he asked.

"Yes," Gabriel said. "I don't talk about it." Rase could see him starting
to shut down.

That was all Rase wanted to know; he leaned back and waved
dismissively. "Fair enough," he said.
The waitress brought another round of drinks, and Gabriel looked over
at Rase when he'd picked up his next one. "That's it? No more
questions?"

"You'll tell me if you want me to know something," Rase said. He

shrugged and took another pull on his cigar. "It's none of my business,
otherwise."

"Thanks."

They drank and smoked in silence until the cigars and bourbon were
all gone. Rase tried not to look at Gabriel too intently. He couldn't help
the way desire crawled over his skin, the way he seemed perpetually
half-hard just being in Gabriel's presence. Gabriel was distant,
thoughtful, and Rase let him have his space.

Gabriel watched his own hands as he stubbed the last of his cigar out
in the ashtray between them. Rase's hands had been still for a while,
lying folded together in front of him. As if it were an effort, Gabriel
looked up at Rase's face.

"Was that all?"

"If you wish." Rase spread his hands, palms up. "I don't want to keep
you here, if you don't want to stay. Was there anything you needed?
Anything you wanted to ask?"

Gabriel was quiet again; he checked his watch, checked the basketball
score on the television over the bar. "Thirty years?" He brought his
gaze back to Rase's face slowly.

The question startled Rase, and he rubbed his thumb over his lips,
pressing the bruise against his teeth while he gathered his thoughts. "I
was young," he said. When Gabriel looked at him at last, he met
Gabriel's eyes steadily. "I didn't have any boundaries, any rules. No
one talked about these things. I found myself in the wrong place at
the wrong time one night, thanks to some girl. It was like I walked
into another world, a world where I belonged. I want back, over and
over again. It was everything I needed."

Rase realized that he was looking past Gabriel, past everyone and
everything in the bar, back nearly three decades. When he focused
again, he saw understanding written in Gabriel's expression. He shook
his head and picked up where he'd trailed off.

"One night, someone went too far. I wasn't even sorry, but someone
else panicked and called paramedics, who called the police, who called
my father, who brought the whole thing down in ruins. The sad thing
was that it didn't change how much he hated me, really." Rase gave
Gabriel a tight smile and realized that Gabriel was looking at him
intently, chin in hand. "The consequences were," Rase paused to find
the right word, "substantial."

The consequences had been shocking, really. The surgery to fix his
injured shoulders had been a minor pain compared to his father's fury.
The worst of it had been the way to blame had fallen on Rase's
mother. He had never been able to forgive himself for shaming her.
Her decline into dementia, causing her mind to retreat to happier
times, was a relief for him even while he grieved it. It was good that
she could forget the pain he’d caused her with what he was.

"I'm sorry," Gabriel said. His voice brought Rase back to the present,
and Rase shook his head, trying to shake off the ghosts and the pain.
"For all of it." There was no compassion in his tone, but the words
were more than enough.

"It is what it is," Rase said, echoing Gabriel from the first night they'd
been together. "I'm fine now."

"Are you really?" Gabriel gave him an arch look.

Rase had to laugh and he leaned back in his chair. "No." He laughed
again, helplessly. "But what's done is done, isn't it? All I can do is start
where I am."

"A good philosophy," Gabriel said. "Thanks for clearing that up."

"No problem," Rase said. "It's a little late for me to stop being honest
with you now, isn't it?" He shrugged and crossed his arms over his
chest.

"I should go," Gabriel said, pushing his chair back from the table. He
looked uncomfortable, and Rase couldn't work out why. It wasn't for
him to question; maybe it wasn't for him to know.
"All right then," Rase said, watching him get up. "Did you need a ride?
My car is out front. I can call the driver, tell him to take you anywhere
you need to go." It was so hard to watch Gabriel get up, to know he
was about to walk away, but Rase knew it was for the best for both of
them.

Gabriel stood there, straightening his cuffs, staring at his hands.

"There's a motel just before the exit off the highway. I borrowed the
pickup to get here." He looked at Rase, just a flicker of a glance, but
there was so much heat in it that Rase's breath caught.

"Drive safely," Rase said. He felt like someone had attached electrodes
to his brain and was pouring energy through his nerves.

"Thanks for the drinks," Gabriel said, then he turned and left.

Rase watched him go, lacing his fingers together so that his hands
wouldn't shake, trying to slow his breathing. When the waitress came
by again, he ordered one more drink, forcing himself to drink it slowly.
He realized that, as much as he had hoped or needed, he hadn't really
been expecting this to happen. When his drink was done, he pushed
himself to his feet, dropped a random bill on the table, and left the
bar.

Chapter Eight

The motel, as they approached it, didn't look too shabby. Rase wasn't
sure he would have cared either way. He had the driver park at the
front, out of sight of the parking down the side and near the little
coffee shop that was still open with the "twenty-four hour" sign lit in
the window.

"I'll call you if I need you," Rase said as he got out of the car. "I may
be a while." He gestured at the coffee shop. "Make yourself
comfortable."

To his credit, the driver's face was neutral. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
He actually touched his fingers to his cap before he closed the door
behind Rase.

Rase was almost trembling as he rounded the corner of the motel and
walked down the row of doors. At the far end, he caught sight of a
truck with the Soto logo on the door. That must be the pickup. It was
parked right in front of room forty-two. Rase stopped and took a deep
breath, smoothed out his jacket and his shirt and the front of his pants
where the swell of his erection pulled out the fabric, and then knocked.

"Come in." Gabriel's voice was flat, almost angry. All it did was turn
Rase on more. He opened the door, stepped in, and closed it behind
him.

The room was dim and smelled of cheap air freshener and furniture
polish. Gabriel stood by the far window in the dark. The only light was
leaking through the crack where the bathroom door stood slightly ajar.
Gabriel turned around; Rase couldn't quite make out his expression.

"Take off your clothes," Gabriel said. He crossed his arms over his
chest and stood there in the dark, waiting to be obeyed.

Rase took off his boots and his socks, then hung his jacket up carefully
on a hanger by the door. His hands were trembling as he unbuttoned
his shirt and hung it up as well. Down to belt and jeans and briefs, he
felt his breath already coming too fast. He slid the belt out of the belt
loops and put it on a shelf, then stripped the rest of the way, folding
his jeans and briefs together on the shelf as well. Naked and erect,
Rase turned back to Gabriel.

"Bring me the belt." Gabriel's voice was thick now; the need in it made
Rase shiver. He picked up the belt, folded it over twice, put it in his
mouth, and then got down on his hands and knees.

By the time Rase made it across the room, his knees throbbing from
the flagstones that morning, and his breathing sounded like
whimpering around the folded leather in his mouth. Little tremors ran
through him, and he was dizzy with arousal. He looked up enough to
see Gabriel's hand extended.

Sitting back on his heels, Rase put the belt in Gabriel's hand. He was
disappointed when Gabriel put it aside on a table. He braved a look at
Gabriel's face and found it expressionless.

"Close your eyes."

Rase obeyed and knelt there in the dark, listening to Gabriel move
around. Gabriel's footsteps came back, and Gabriel's hand in his hair
from behind wrenched his head back. Rase whimpered involuntarily
but kept his eyes closed. He could feel Gabriel's breath on his cheek.

Gabriel's fingers stroked down his chest and found one nipple, teasing
it and tugging it, sending trickles of pleasure down to Rase's already
hard cock. He clenched his hands at his sides and tried to control his
breathing. It was so hard to stay still when he could feel Gabriel's heat
so close to him.

Suddenly, something cold and sharp bit down on his nipple and pain
stabbed through his chest. Rase's breath stuttered and he let out a
little cry. The pain was searing, it was getting worse, spreading and
burning. His eyes welled with tears as Gabriel did something that
made the teeth tighten more. He was panting, and Gabriel started
teasing the other nipple. When the cold metal teeth bit down on that
one, Rase groaned, a tearing noise that came from somewhere deep
in his belly.

Gabriel rubbed his thumbs over Rase's tormented nipples, his breath
hot and heavy in Rase's ear. "What do you say?" he whispered.

"Thank you." Rase didn't even have to think about it. "Thank you,
Gabriel."

"I like that." Gabriel's breath caressed Rase's face. "I like it when you
say my name." There must have been a chain between the clamps on
Rase's nipples, because both sets bit in deeper in tandem.

"Gabriel…" It was half-word, half-moan. The burning had spread until

it felt like every nerve in Rase's body was on fire.

"Tell me what you want." Gabriel got his hand in Rase's hair again and
pulled his head back so far that Rase's neck hurt, his back starting to
curve like a bow. Gabriel's mouth ghosted over Rase's, hovering there
as though Gabriel were breathing in Rase's rasping exhalations.

"Hurt me." Rase's eyes filled up with tears, wetness seeping out to
chill his skin, when he heard his own words. "Oh, God, please. Gabriel,
please, hurt me."

Gabriel's hand in his hair dragged Rase to his feet. Rase fought to get
up, fought to find his balance, but Gabriel kept him moving until Rase
all but fell into a chair. Fortunately, it was sturdy and upholstered with
a high back but no arms, and it took the impact of his weight.
Gabriel's hand caught him across the face, open palm stinging on bare
skin, and Rase choked on his own cry. Still, he kept his eyes closed.

"Hands behind your back." Rase knew what was coming. Moaning, he
arched and did as he was told, shifting with anticipation. His nipples
were on fire, the heat was everywhere, and all he wanted was more.
Icy metal locked around one wrist, then the other, and he moaned
again. "Christ, you are such a slut." Gabriel tugged at the chain again,
making Rase jerk and whine.

Rase could smell himself; he was afraid he was going to come without
permission. As if he could read Rase's thoughts, Gabriel's hand was on
Rase's cock, fingers sliding over the head. Rase almost came up off
the chair at the touch, then Gabriel's fingers, slick with pre-come,
were pushing into his mouth. Rase shuddered and sucked at them
hungrily; he was rewarded by Gabriel fucking his mouth with them for
a moment before all the touches were gone.

Rase was alone in the dark, cold over the heat of pain, and he felt like
he was falling. He kept his eyes closed and strained to listen to
Gabriel, like he could anchor himself by knowing where Gabriel was in
the room. There was the soft sound of metal on metal that caught his
attention, and he turned his head just as the belt cracked across his
cheek.

The next moment, the leather was around his neck and cinched tight,
the metal buckle gouging his throat. Rase inhaled convulsively, trying
to fill his lungs before it was too late. Gabriel's naked weight fell
across his lap and Gabriel's mouth covered his, kissing him hard as he
gasped. Rase shuddered and tried to kiss him back, pulling the belt
tighter as he pressed up.

Gabriel was saying things Rase couldn't hear through the rushing in
his ears. Gabriel kissed him so hard that his lip split again and there
was blood in his mouth. Oh, God, this was so stupid and dangerous…
Rase writhed under Gabriel, begging for more. Through it all, he was
aware that Gabriel's hand on the belt gave him just enough slack to
breathe, but he used it to try to get closer.

The back of Gabriel's hand across his face made Rase fall back and he
could breathe, air rushing into his lungs. "Be good," Gabriel whispered,
tugging at the chain between Rase's nipples and sending pain washing
through him. "Don't make me stop."

Rase whined and tried to relax, to let Gabriel have what he wanted.
The belt tightened around his throat again and Rase shuddered; then
Gabriel's other hand was on his cock, stroking. He made strangling
noises as he fought for air, the desperation warring with the pleasure
of Gabriel stroking him off. Gabriel kissed him again, moaning into his
mouth, biting at his lips.

Rase's bare feet slid against the carpet, his back arched, and he was
slipping toward orgasm. Please, he tried to say. Please, stop. Gabriel.
He was seeing stars, explosions of light behind his eyes as he ran out
of air. Then he could breathe and Gabriel was tugging at the chain
again, making him yelp with pain. Gabriel played with him, keeping
him on the edge, until his throat was raw from the leather and his
cock felt swollen and he was almost sobbing.

"Open your eyes." A little tug at the belt punctuated the order, and
Rase remembered that he could see. He had almost forgotten, as
though the whole concept of sight had faded when he was ordered to
keep his eyes closed. He opened his eyes to see Gabriel's face just in
front of his, flushed and debauched and beautiful. "Tell me what you
want," Gabriel whispered.

"Hurt me." Rase blinked and his vision cleared as tears tipped over the
edge of his lashes and dropped onto his hot cheeks. He hardly
recognized his own voice. "Please, Gabriel."

Gabriel made a broken little noise and kissed Rase hard, pressing
close and crushing Rase's aching cock and clipped nipples between
them, making Rase whine into his mouth. He let go of the belt and got
both hands in Rase's hair, kissing him and sucking at the blood that
still flavored his tongue. For a moment, Gabriel was wound all around
Rase, clinging to him and kissing him like he couldn't get enough.

Then he was gone, pushing away and stepping back, pulling the key
he wore on a chain off over his head. Rase could look at him now,
admiring the lines of his body and the upward tension of his erection.
Gabriel stepped behind him before Rase had had enough of looking at
him. The cuffs came off and then Gabriel's hand in Rase's hair was
hauling him to his feet and shoving him toward the bed.
Rase stumbled and fell, his arms barely working well enough to catch
himself before his face hit the end of the bed. Gabriel's foot between
his shoulder blades pushed him face first into the mattress, and Rase
knew what was coming next. He buried his face in his crossed arms
and set his throbbing, abraded knees further apart, trembling with
anticipation.

When Gabriel reached around and unclipped his nipples, the blood
rushing back to the tormented flesh was a fresh, new pain that made
Rase wail into the bed. He hadn't regained any kind of control before
the belt fell across his shoulders, biting into his flesh. Gabriel laid
down one stripe after another across Rase's back and ass and thighs,
setting him on fire and making him gasp and sob into the cheap,
synthetic bedspread. He was vibrating with ecstasy and pain when the
belt came up between his thighs and snapped across his balls.

Rase jerked and screamed, his back arching and pulling him upward
so that the sound came out raw and horrified into the silent room.
Gabriel shoved Rase's face down to silence him with a hand on the
back of his head. The pain was sick and dreadful, making Rase gag. It
took all of his self-control not to clamp his thighs together and pull in
on himself. The next cutting blow across his ass was relief in
comparison.

By the time the wave of nausea was receding, though, Rase was
harder than ever, whining and pressing his face into the bed, hands
fisted in the cover. His skin was on fire and he was strung out with the
tension of waiting for another one of those horrible blows. The
awfulness of the anticipation left him panting like a dog. When the
pain came again, like a fist between his thighs, Rase bit at the covers
and ground his face into the mattress to stifle his noises.

The belt fell across the back of his thighs next. "Up," Gabriel snarled.
"Up on the bed, on your back, knees up, your legs apart." Rase
struggled to obey as Gabriel laid stinging little snaps on his body
wherever it was convenient.

Finally, Rase was laid out on the bed as ordered, stomach churning,
and horribly vulnerable. He fisted his hands in the bedcovers so that
he wouldn't clutch them between his thighs to protect himself.

"Eyes on the ceiling," Gabriel said flatly. Rase obeyed, even as the belt
seared the inside of one of his thighs. There was a long pause and
Rase started to shake with cold; he couldn't even hear past the sound
of his own breath and his blood pounding.

The belt came down on the other thigh, making Rase groan. The
impact was so hot, and thin, and cutting, he wanted more. It was so
good, he thought he could come from it, and Gabriel just kept hurting
him. Eyes on the ceiling, he writhed and spread his legs further, hips
rocking as his cock dripped onto his belly. When the beating stopped,
Rase whined and heard Gabriel laugh, raw and bitter, in response.

Gabriel's weight joined Rase's on the bed and then he was blocking
Rase's view of the ceiling. He kissed Rase and his hands were rough
on Rase's burning thighs, sliding up behind Rase's knees and lifting
them. His beautiful cock that had gagged Rase that morning started
pushing into Rase's dry, tight ass. Rase had to breathe through the
pain even though Gabriel was being gentler with him than Rase would
have been with himself; the slickness of a heavy layer of lube made it
easier.

Gabriel was making naked little noises that matched Rase's little
moans as he pushed in. Once he was all the way in, Gabriel let go of
Rase's thighs and stroked his face instead. Rase dared to let go of the
bedcovers and ran his fingers tentatively over Gabriel's shoulders.

They lay very still together; everything was suddenly so still and
silent. Their kisses were nothing more than soft brushes of lips and
breath. Gabriel traced Rase's features with his fingers and Rase grew
bold, letting his own fingers wander up into the sweat-damp silk of
Gabriel's hair. For a moment, Rase wanted for nothing. He was filled
up and on fire and at peace.

Gabriel kissed him one more time, then pulled back and started to
move. Rase was overwhelmed with sensation, with pain that faded
into pleasure and left him moaning, grabbing at Gabriel's shoulders for
an anchor. He kept his eyes open now, fixed on Gabriel's beautiful,
flushed face. Gabriel seemed almost shy, eyes downcast until he
looked at Rase and a soft whimper slipped out from between his
parted lips.

"Gabriel," Rase said. The word didn't come out the first time, so Rase
said it again. "Gabriel."

Gabriel whimpered again and started moving faster, fucking Rase with
long strokes. Rase had forgotten how good this was; he dug his
fingers into Gabriel's shoulders and moved with him until neither of
them could be quiet. Gabriel's eyes were glassy and he had that same
frightened, desperate look that he'd had by the pool that morning.

"Rase. Rase, come." In spite of the roughness in Gabriel's voice, it

wasn't an order. It didn't have to be to make Rase shudder and tense.
He wanted to give Gabriel everything, even things Gabriel didn't know
he needed.

Rase's hand went to his thick, swollen cock, and the first touch was
almost pure pain. His body clenched around Gabriel and his back
arched. He locked his thighs around Gabriel and used them to pull
Gabriel deeper, harder. His other hand clamped on the back of
Gabriel's neck; he was too far gone to think of rules or civility right
now.

Gabriel's exhalations were frantic little noises, the sounds of somebody

scrabbling to maintain control, and that drove Rase wild. Rase's eyes
were full of Gabriel's face, his wide eyes, his bitten lip, as he jerked off
to the aphrodisiac realization that Gabriel wanted him. Coming was
like a dam breaking. Orgasm roared through him, come splashed
across his chest, and his voice clawed his throat raw with Gabriel's
name gasped over and over again.

Gabriel smashed his mouth against Rase's, silencing them both as

Gabriel's body jerked with his own orgasm. He bucked and writhed
against Rase, driving Rase's orgasm further as he came. When he
stilled at last, he put his head down against Rase's shoulder and his
breath came in ragged shreds like sobs.

Slowly, as though they were melting, they shifted to lie curled around
each other on their sides. Face to face, they breathed each other's
breath and clung to each other in silence. Rase unlocked his hand from
the back of Gabriel's neck to stroke Gabriel's cheek and push aside his
sweaty hair. Tentatively, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Gabriel's.

Gabriel's mouth was soft and yielding under Rase's. They kissed
slowly, like they were kissing for the first time, tongues sneaking out
to explore. It was so good to kiss a man like this, slow and passionate,
like lovers. He didn't want to lose this any more than the rest of it.

It had to end, though. Gabriel pushed himself away and turned over to
clean up. Rase knew it was time to go. His body was reluctant to obey
his orders, but he got to his feet and staggered to the bathroom,
grabbing the door frame on the way so he didn't fall.

The light in the bathroom was piercing, stripping through Rase's

lingering pleasure and cutting down to the shame. He couldn't look at
himself in the mirror; he just turned the knobs on the shower at
random and stepped into the water. It was cold, and not getting any
warmer, but that didn't stop him from unwrapping the soap with
shaking hands and starting to rub it over his body.

The water started to run warm and then Gabriel's body was next his,
Gabriel's hand taking the soap away. "You have to stop that," Gabriel
said. His voice was gentle but stern. With his other hand, he cupped
Rase's face and made Rase look at him. He was smiling, just a little,
with no mockery in it. "Stop running away from me."

"I will if you will," Rase said, before he could censor the words. He had
no good way to parse Gabriel's expression; it was so forgiving and
serene.

"I'm not running now," Gabriel assured him. "Let me help you get
clean." He was watching Rase with concern.

Like before, Gabriel's words felt like they cracked something in Rase's
chest, but at least this time he stayed standing. He couldn't speak,
though, so he just nodded. Please. He realized he was shaking. All he
wanted was to feel clean.

Gabriel washed him gently and, after a little while, the warm water
and careful attention thawed Rase out enough that he could do the
same in turn. Gabriel allowed the touches, and Rase explored Gabriel's
body with soapy fingers. If he weren't so exhausted, just touching
Gabriel would have turned him on all over again.

Gabriel decided when they were clean enough and turned off the taps.
They got out and dried, Gabriel turning Rase around to gently towel
off his back and down to his thighs. Rase felt bruised, wounded, and
every touch was a painful thrill. "You're so good," Gabriel said as he
wiped the last of the water away. "You are." He stroked down Rase's
back with his fingertips, then turned away to hang up the towel.

"Thank you," Rase said, uncertainly. It felt odd to be praised for

something he not only couldn't help but that ashamed him.

When he went out to get dressed, he saw an empty condom wrapper

on the table, and realized, belatedly, that Gabriel must have used one.
At least one of them had been careful. Rase hated the way that he
couldn't think sometimes. He'd been lucky so far. He tossed the
wrapper in the garbage, still lost in recriminations about how careless
he'd been. His throat felt abraded on the outside and he stopped to
run his fingers over it.

"Don't do that without me." Gabriel stood silhouetted in the bathroom

doorway, watching him. "I mean it."

"Which…" Rase was confused, startled by the comment.

Gabriel came across the room to him and touched the side of Rase's
throat. "This," he said. "With the belt. You could hurt yourself.
Someone could hurt you. Or worse. Do you understand?" His
expression was clouded, his brow furrowed.

Rase nodded slowly. "I understand," he said. "I told you, I don't do
this with anyone. Usually, I don't even do it with myself." Heat rushed
to his cheeks as he spoke, and he couldn't look Gabriel in the eyes.

"I know." Gabriel's voice was so gentle. He stroked Rase's cheek.

"That's what worries me. I don't want you to hurt yourself." He
nudged Rase's hot cheek until Rase was forced to look at him.
"Understand?"

"Yes, Gabriel." Rase thought his cheeks were going to catch fire if they
got any hotter. Gabriel let the issue drop and stepped away to get
dressed, so Rase went to do the same.

When Rase was almost dressed, Gabriel came over to him and tucked
something into the front pocket of his shirt. "Don't leave those on too
long," Gabriel said.

After Gabriel turned away, Rase realized that it was the clamps that
had been on his nipples that Gabriel had put in his shirt pocket. The
realization made his stomach churn with shame and desire at once,
understanding that Gabriel meant for him to wear them while he was
alone, while he was masturbating, while he was thinking of Gabriel
and the things that Gabriel did to him. Rase had to bite his lip to keep
from moaning aloud.

He had barely recovered from that when Gabriel returned and pushed
Rase's belt into his hand. Gabriel closed his hand over it and then gave
Rase a warning tap on the cheek. "I mean it about being careful,"
Gabriel said.

"I will," Rase promised. He met Gabriel's eyes, and Gabriel gave him a
stern look before turning away. Rase's hands shook as he threaded his
belt back through the loops of his pants, remembering all the different
ways Gabriel could use it to hurt him. He wanted to know when and if
they could do this all again but he kept silent, even as he was sliding
his jacket on over his burning shoulders.

"I don't have a phone," Gabriel said. He was dressed and ready to go,
standing in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets. "Not
one where you could call me easily."

With unsteady hands, Rase took out a business card and a thin silver
pen. He wrote his personal cell phone number, e-mail address, and
the work extension on the back of the card and offered it up to
Gabriel.

Gabriel came over and took it, read it, and then put it away in his
wallet. "That'll do," he said.

Rase just nodded; it would have to. All he could do was wait; he had
no control over anything anymore, it seemed. He could live with it,
though, because he felt like he was slowly emerging into the real
world from behind the façade he'd put on in order to survive all the
years before.

Rase left first, and Gabriel didn't try and stop him or say anything
more. He felt numb and elated at once. He was counting his steps
away from the door to keep his mind in check and had gotten to ten
when he heard footsteps behind him. He didn't have to hear a voice to
know it was Gabriel. A gentle touch on his tender shoulder stopped
him, and he turned around.

Gabriel still didn't say anything. He just took hold of the front of Rase's
jacket and pulled him in for a kiss. Startled, Rase hesitated, but then
he was kissing Gabriel back, his hands cupped around Gabriel's hips to
hold him close. Gabriel's mouth was hot and wet and full of a thousand
words that Rase would never have believed if he'd heard them spoken.
He could believe them like this, though, pressed into his mouth with
Gabriel's lips and teeth and tongue. Finally, Gabriel stepped back and
looked at Rase before he turned and walked away.

This time, it didn't hurt so much to go. Rase found his driver reading
in the car; the man put his coffee down and scrambled out to open the
door for Rase. In the leather cradle of the back seat, Rase stretched
out and closed his eyes. It didn't do to dwell on how different life
would have been if he'd felt like this at eighteen. He was just grateful,
fingers curled around the pair of clamps and chain, that he felt like
this tonight.

Chapter Nine

There was no reason for Rase to stay in Miami after that night. He
checked out of his hotel and took his plane back home, sorting
through the divorce filings and other paperwork on the way. It was
gray, cold and rainy, when he got off the plane. It suited his mood.

Back in the vast, echoing house he'd shared with Andrea, Rase started
packing his things. He could have hired someone to do it, and he
would eventually, but the idea of another person's hands on his things
was unwelcome at the moment. On the phone to his real estate agent,
Rase told her that he didn't need to see anything; he didn't want to
bother with the song and dance of looking for a new property.

"I just hate for my clients to purchase a primary residence sight

unseen," she said.

"Charlene," Rase said, feeling irritable, "let's be honest. My office is

my primary residence, I just need a place to put my things and to go
to sleep once while."

"How about a nice little house, instead of a condo," she suggested. "I
have just the place in mind."

"I need something near downtown." Rase carefully wrapped a photo of

himself in bubble wrap and tucked it away in a box. "I'm not
interested in the sixty-minute drive to get home anymore. I'm a little
old to be playing house, anyways."
"It's not far from where you are," Charlene said, wheedling a little.
"It's in the historical section, just up past the rose gardens and the
park. Big trees, three-car garage, fully fenced with security…"

"Then why hasn't somebody else snapped it up?" If Rase were to be

honest with himself, he kind of liked the look of his living room full of
boxes. They were neat and tidy, everything safe, and there was a
certain aesthetic component to the geometrical composition of the
stacks.

"It's not a particularly big house, for the price," Charlene admitted.
"And the grounds need a fair amount of work. Most people want to
buy new these days. There's even a little gardener's house on the
property. The thing is that they've already reached the zoning limits
for expanding the residence; it's not exactly a place that screams
money, and you know how people like to look like money."

"I've never understood the thrill," Rase said dryly.

"That's probably because you and your family practically define

money," Charlene retorted. "At least come and look at the place, Rase.
Putting people in the right homes is my job, and I think this is the
right one for you."

"Here I was, hoping for a soulless, barren, industrial rooftop

apartment," Rase said mock-wistfully. "You know, the kind of thing
that would make me look rich enough to justify having no furniture,
where I could brood above the city and feel sorry for myself for being
single."

By the time he was finished, Charlene was laughing at him. "Well," she
said, when she could speak. "I happen to have a surplus of those,
they're extremely popular these days. If you really want one, I'll sell
you the nearest one to your office as soon as you've seen the house I
have in mind."

"As long as this isn't part of some clever plan to introduce me to

someone," Rase said suspiciously.

"Would I do that to you?" Charlene sounded wounded.

"Of course you would," Rase said. "That's what friends are for, aren't
they?"

"Good point," Charlene said. She laughed at him then, and he could
hear a jingle in the background like keys. "So, are you free for lunch?"

Rase sighed and resigned himself to going through the motions of

looking at the house before he got the apartment he was after. "Of
course," he said. "Just give me the address and I'll meet you there."
What he was going to do with a house, he had no idea, but at least he
could take a look. Looking never hurt.

***

Charlene had a point. The house was open and comfortable, with
classic arched doorways and hardwood floors and terrible insulation. It
was more than big enough for one by Rase’s reckoning, not big
enough for two by upper class standards, and definitely not suited to
children. It didn't echo the way the monstrosity he'd owned with
Andrea did.

The property was out of hand with trees and vines and gardens that
had escaped their boundaries. The retaining walls were tumbling down
in some sections, the iron fencing was rusting through, the pool was
more of a swamp, and the gardener's cottage looked like it was one
good rainfall from falling in on itself.

It was too small, and too inconvenient, for the price. The land was
worth a great deal, but the zoning wouldn't allow for an alternative
development. The best case scenario was that the city bought it up
and put some kind of random program into it, making it a historical
center or something of the sort. It didn't even have a view, really,
being shoved back against the wooded end of a city park, and facing
the treed ribbon of green space that wrapped around the back of the
city's new cultural center.

Really, it wasn't a very good idea, if one were thinking about real
estate and investment. It wasn't a place you could raise a family, and
it wasn't a place you could throw a particularly large party, though
Rase could see holding dinners for ten or twelve in the long dining
room. He stood there, between the dining room and living room,
thinking and feeling Charlene's eyes on him.

"They could change the zoning laws anytime," she said. "It could be a
good investment."

Rase laughed. "So, how long has this thing been on the market,
anyway?"

"About five years," Charlene said, looking shifty. "It would be a huge
gold star if I could sell this thing. And it's not like you couldn't use it.
Maybe Takis needs a place?"

It wasn't like Rase couldn't afford it. It wasn't as if it mattered if the

money sat and moldered here in this property until he thought of what
to do with it. Rase ran a hand over the beautiful, built-in bookcases in
the front room. If it were less like a home, it would be easier to make
up his mind. He wondered if he would feel lonely here. Maybe he could
get a dog; Rase had always really wanted a dog.

"What the hell," he said. "It's not like I'm not already cornering the
market on impulse decisions." He looked over at Charlene. "I'll take it.
Just find me someone to handle the contracting so I can get it fixed
up."

Charlene squeaked and skittered across the hardwood floor to throw

her arms around him. "Congratulations," she said. "Welcome home."

Rase hugged her back as the implications of what he'd just done
started to set in. "I hate shopping for furniture," he muttered. Life was
ridiculously complicated sometimes.

***

Eventually, Rase was going to need to go back to the office. When he

was left to his own devices, apparently, he did things like buy old
houses he didn't know what to do with, consider buying a bicycle in
spite of the fact that he had only ridden one a handful of times in his
entire life, and wonder what had happened to the guitar he owned and
knew how to play it before Takis was born. Frankly, it seemed that he
was safer if he stayed at work. If he were allowed out and about on
his own, the next thing he knew, he would be wearing sandals.

When Rase got off the elevator, Allen looked up from his work and his
face lit up. "Sir!" He got to his feet and just stood there with his hands
clasped behind his back, smiling.
"Allen." Rase realized that he was genuinely happy to see the man.
"You look smashing today." Allen did; his blue suit and pale gray shirt
set off his blond hair and blue eyes perfectly. To Rase's surprise,
Allen's cheeks seemed to get a bit pink at that.

"Thank you, sir." Allen stepped forward and opened the door to Rase's
office for him. "You're looking well yourself." There was a brief pause
as Rase passed him on the way into the office. "Did you… did you
forget your tie, sir?"

"Um," Rase thought about it for a minute, his hand going instinctively
to his throat. He must've taken his tie off in the car without thinking
about it. His shirt was rubbing uncomfortably at the abrasions that the
leather belt had left on the back and sides of his neck. Somehow,
Gabriel had managed to keep from leaving significant marks where
they would show too easily at the front.

"In my pocket." He pulled it out triumphantly and, looking at it from

this angle, realized that it was ridiculously conservative. "My God,
Allen, why do people let me dress myself?"

"I am certain you could find someone willing to do it for you," Allen
said, and then cleared his throat slightly. "If you're available this
afternoon, there's a conference call planned with the West Coast
office."

"I'm available," Rase said. "I think I'm safer at work. I seem to have
accidentally gone and bought a house. It requires paint, and
furniture." He started putting his tie back on. "Also, I almost bought a
bicycle. I don't even know where to go to get one, but it occurred to
me that I didn't have one, and it seemed like a good idea at the time.
So did the house." He stopped and gave Allen a worried look. "So did
marrying Andrea."

Allen cleared his throat again and gave Rase an arch look. "Did it
really, sir?"

Rase thought about it a moment. "No, actually, it seemed like a

terrible idea the time, just slightly less terrible than putting up with
my father and his questions. Thank you, Allen. Now, I need some
lunch, and an interior designer. Also, a gardener."

"No bicycle, sir?"

Rase looked over to see whether or not Allen was teasing him, and he
couldn't quite tell. "I think I'm a little too old for a bicycle, Allen," he
pointed out.

"I beg to differ on that count," Allen said loftily. "Thai for lunch, sir?"

"Definitely, and thank you." Rase sank into his chair with a sigh and
prepared to get back to work. He might have been making life more
complicated, but he thought he also might be happier than he had
been in years.

Allen brought in a stack of reports and set them down on the desk.
"You know, sir," he murmured conspiratorially. "A bicycle is
considerably less permanent than a tattoo."

"Are you funning with me, Allen?" Rase managed to summon up a

stern look.

"Never, sir." Allen kept a perfectly straight face as he turned to go.

"It's not in my job description." With that, he sailed out of the office,
leaving Rase laughing.

***

It was hard to put Gabriel out of his head. In fact, it was so hard that
Rase found himself grateful for having gone ahead with the impulse
decision of buying a house that needed a ridiculous amount of work.
Until the house was actually purchased, he spent his sleepless hours
packing back at the house he'd shared with Andrea. Once he had the
keys in hand, though, Rase found himself standing in the empty foyer
one night, well after dark, and trying to get used to the idea that this
was where he was going to live.

Allen was exceptionally helpful, providing stacks of magazines on

interior design and home decorating. It had been years since Rase had
had so much to study. On flights between countries, he compared
color swatches and carefully reviewed the latest fashions in interior
design.

"I think I've lost my mind," he said to Maggie, high in the air over the
Atlantic Ocean. "I didn't even know there were this many kinds of
paint. What am I doing owning a house?"
"You've always owned houses, Rase," she pointed out. "You just
happen to have taken an unnatural interest in this one, that's all. I
think it's good for you."

"That's what you said about tofu," Rase pointed out. That had been a
complete disaster.

"Yes, well," Maggie said defensively. "I didn't know how to cook it back
then. I'm much better at that now. And you like tofu just fine."

"Yes," Rase said. "But it's not just the house." He stretched out on his
bed in the plane.

"I know." Maggie's tone was suddenly very reassuring, something that
always made Rase feel a little foolish for needing to be reassured. "It's
everything, I know. But it's all going to be okay. Have you heard from
him?"

Rase knew exactly to whom she was referring. "No," he said, rubbing
a hand over his face. "It's only been a week and a half. He'll call when
he feels like it."

"Is there anyone else?"

"No, no," Rase said hastily. "There wasn't even supposed to be him.
I'm definitely not together enough to be thinking about that kind of
thing anyway. I can't even pick a color for the living room."

"Why don't you let someone else do it?"

"Maybe because I'm tired of feeling like this isn't my life." Rase hadn't
really given it very much thought. "Maybe because I'm just trying not
to think about anything else. I mean, I have takeovers on the horizon,
and the quarterly reviews coming up, and at least one charity dinner,
but somehow they just aren't holding my attention these days."

"Well," Maggie said thoughtfully. "Maybe you just need to paint a

house. Not in any cosmic or existential sense. Maybe you just need to
do some things. It's not like you're hurting anybody by deciding to
paint your own house. People do it every day."

She had a point. Maggie usually did, it was something that Rase had
always liked about her. He stared at the paneled ceiling and thought
about it.

"I bet Takis would come down and help you out if you wanted,"
Maggie added. "He used to paint houses between gigs. He's pretty
good at it, too. Sometimes he helps out with the home-building
projects the company does every summer."

Bonding time. Rase could mentally write off the whimsy of wasting
time painting his own house as bonding time with his son. That
seemed to settle his inner critic enough for the moment. "I could call
him," Rase said tentatively.

"You mean, instead of having Allen call him?" Maggie teased gently.

Rase felt his cheeks flush. "I deserved that. Yes, I mean me, actually
calling him."

"He'll be thrilled," Maggie said. "I won't even warn him."

"I'll do it as soon as I get back," Rase promised. "I just want to get
this right, Maggie."

"I know you do, baby," she said, soothing him even from thousands of
miles away and years apart. "You always did."

***

As soon as the house had passed inspection and had been

professionally cleaned, Rase decided it was time to get out of the old
house. He threw haphazardly packed suitcases and hangers rustling
with dry cleaning bags into his car and made the trip into the city and
down into the downtown core. The security gates still weren't working,
so he had to stop in the street and haul the big steel gates open by
hand to let himself in.

Up at the house, he dragged armfuls of suits and shirts and pants

inside and hung them up in the walk-in closet in the master bedroom.
He was remarkably undaunted by the fact that there was no furniture
in the house. He had to sleep on something, though, he thought,
standing in the middle of the empty bedroom and looking around at
the expanse of hardwood. He reached for his cell phone.
"Allen," he said as soon as the person on the other end picked up, "I
need a bed."

"Sorry," and the other person said. "This isn't Allen."

What the hell? Rase checked the screen on his cell phone. It was
Allen's number. He realized that he could hear music in the
background. "Can I speak to him, then?"

"Did you answer my cell phone?" Rase could hear Allen's voice faintly.
There was a scuffling noise, and then he could hear Allen more clearly.
"Hello?"

"Allen," Rase said. He checked his watch and realized that it was six in
the evening on a Saturday. "Sorry, I forgot that it was Saturday."

"Sir." Allen sounded happy to hear from him anyway. "It's fine, what
did you need?"

"A bed." Rase turned around slowly, trying to decide where he would
put it in the room and how big it would need to be. "There was a point
in my life when I planned ahead for things like this," he said, mostly to
himself.

Allen laughed at him. "You should probably actually shop for one," he
pointed out.

"Well, I like the one I had back at the other house," Rase said, feeling
very sheepish. "Didn't you order that one for me?"

"Yes, I did," Allen said patiently. "But it was custom-made. The

delivery time on it was at least six weeks."

"I'm not very good at this, Allen." Rase ran a hand through his hair
and realized that there was far more to all of this than he had
previously anticipated.

"Don't worry about that, sir." There was a sound of a door shutting
and the music in the background fell silent. "I expect you won't be
wanting the bed from the old house," Allen said. Rase could hear the
familiar scraping sound of a lighter. "Not that I blame you, sir. I can
get someone to deliver you something that'll do in the meantime."
Rase thought about it and realized that he was fairly fond of the couch
in his study. If he recalled correctly, it folded out into a bed, not that
he'd ever used it like that. But, this really wasn't Allen's problem.
Calling him was just instinct; Rase always called him about work
problems, no matter the time of day or day of the week. But this
wasn't work. Rase hadn't really had a lot of life that wasn't work.

"I shouldn't have called," Rase said. "I'm sure I can think of
something."

"No," Allen said hastily. "Really, I don't mind."

"This is hardly in your job description, Allen," Rase pointed out.

"Then maybe you should change my job description," Allen said

stubbornly. "Look, I was just downtown the other day and I saw
something you might like. If you hate it, you can always send it back.
I'll call them up and send it over. In the meantime, you could try
shopping. You know, for linens and things."

That sounded unnervingly adventurous, but Rase was willing to give it

a try. "Fair enough," he said. "If you don't mind."

"It's just a phone call," Allen said. Rase knew better than to argue with
him about these things because, somehow, Allen always won.

"Thanks, Allen." There was a certain amount of comfort and relief,

knowing that he wasn't alone navigating this whole real-life business.
"I'll get to that shopping now."

"King-size sheets," Allen said. "And I think I can trust you to get
sufficiently high thread-count. I have faith in you."

"That means a great deal, Allen," Rase said dryly. "If you don't hear
back from me by Monday, send out a search party."

***

Fortunately, a search party wasn't needed. By ten o'clock that night,

Rase found himself sprawled comfortably on his new bed with the
padded leather headboard at his back, Chinese takeout at one hand,
and his computer at the other. He'd even braved a call to Takis but
had only gotten his son's voicemail. Unsure of what else to do, he left
Takis his new address and left it at that.

When his phone rang, he was expecting Takis, so he didn't check the
caller ID before answering. "Hey there," he said around a bite of Kung
Pao chicken.

"Rase?" It wasn't Takis, it was Gabriel. Rase grabbed his half empty
beer and washed down the chicken before he choked on it.

"Gabriel." Rase was so surprised that he had no idea what to say. "It's
good to hear from you." That was not only the truth, it was the only
thing that came to mind.

"I have to come back to the city," Gabriel said without preamble. "I'll
be there a few days."

"If you have time," Rase said, feeling numb and uncertain, "I could
clear my schedule."

"Just tell me where to find you," Gabriel said. "I'll come by if I do have
some free time."

The idea that Gabriel would be so close made Rase's skin prickle with
need. He had done so well at putting Gabriel out of his head. He'd
done his best not to think about the way they'd been together in
Miami. That hadn't stopped him from feeling a thrill every time he put
his belt on, but if he thought about it too long, he was afraid he would
go mad.

"Any time you like," he said. "I just bought a new house, I'll give you
the address, if you don't want to come by the office. I'll be here all
weekend and evenings." He rattled off the street name and address
for the new house.

"I don't see myself coming by the office," Gabriel said flatly. It felt like
a smack, and Rase realized that he probably deserved it for picking at
Gabriel's old wounds, whether he'd meant to or not.

"Of course not," he said quickly. "Whenever you want to drop by is

fine." His skin felt flushed, and his heart was beating faster than it
should. He was definitely too old for this.

"I will, then." With that, the line went dead and Rase was left sitting
there, feeling numb and confused.

He went through the motions of finishing his dinner and clearing away
the takeout cartons, and then he got ready for bed. He showered and
pulled on a pair of pajama pants then got out his a travel case to find
a hairbrush and toothbrush. The bathroom light glinted off some metal
in the bottom of the case that he didn't recognize, and he slid his
fingers around inside until he came up with the clips and chain that
Gabriel had given him in Miami.

Rase had tried not to even think about where he'd put them. Need hit
him like a breaker on the beach, and his breath caught. He'd missed
Gabriel so much. He didn't even have a right to miss the other man,
he thought, but he couldn't stop it from happening. All he could do
was bury it deep enough that it didn't interfere with his days and try
not to sleep so deep at night that it crept into his dreams. When he
looked himself in the mirror, he had dark circles under his eyes, and
he looked like he'd lost weight. He hadn't even noticed.

With the chain wound in his fingers and the clips dangling, he walked
back to the bed in a daze. He laid himself out on it, on his back,
staring at the ceiling. What was he doing with himself? What was he
doing to himself? He kept turning his life upside down, as if the chaos
would distract him from the way that it was falling apart at the core.

But no matter what he did, he always kept coming back around to the
truth. He wanted Gabriel, wanted pain, wanted to be down on his
knees. He didn't hate himself for it quite so much anymore, but that
didn't mean that he knew what to do with it. Rase pressed the heels of
his hands into his eyes. Why couldn't Gabriel have come over tonight?
It would've kept Rase from thinking, would have kept him from this
sense of falling.

That was exactly what Gabriel didn't want. Gabriel didn't want to be
Rase's release from the pain of who he really was or the pressure of
the life he was lucky enough to live. Gabriel wanted to be Gabriel, the
person that he was who seemed to need to hurt and to dominate as
badly as Rase needed to be hurt and dominated. Rase remembered
the uncertainty in the man who had sat across from him at the bar,
the pain of the man who had turned away from him at the poolside.

He didn't want to be like all those people who had never seen that
man. He didn't want to be, he realized, like his father: a man who only
wanted what he paid for and none of the consequences, none of the
humanity, that went with it. More than he wanted to hide, Rase
wanted Gabriel, wanted to know the person inside, wanted something
real with someone, with whoever would want something real with him.

He sat up in his bed and looked at the clips in his hand, watch them
glitter in the light of his laptop screen. He carefully put them down on
the keyboard and got up. In his closet, he found the belt that he had
worn to Gabriel's apartment the first time. It ran through his fingers,
slick on one side and suede on the other, and he startled himself with
his own moan.

Walking back to bed, he was already hard, his cock pushing at the
loose fabric of his pajama pants. The pants were just in the way, so he
undid the waistband and let them pool around his feet before stepping
out of them and crawling up onto his bed. It was cool enough that his
skin tightened, and he shivered as he sprawled in the pillows. In the
pale blue glow of his laptop, he could look down his own body,
watching the way his muscles twitched when he slid the leather over
one thigh.

The welts on the insides of his thighs had turned to bruises that were
still visible under the surface. Washing had been hell for days; he'd
gotten hard every single time and his habit of denying himself
anything was so strong he hadn't felt like he could push it aside. Now,
knowing that Gabriel would be close, that they might be together
again, it was easier. And what kind of person was he if he kept looking
at Gabriel only as a means to an end?

Gabriel had woken him up. It wasn't his job to keep Rase in the
waking world. Rase trailed the cold leather over his cock and watched
the muscles of his belly clench involuntarily. Only Rase could do that,
make himself whole. He wanted to do something to make things even
between them. He'd promised Gabriel he'd be careful about what he
did, not that he wouldn't do anything.

The clamps and chain glittered on the keyboard and Rase reached out
and picked them up. He hadn't even let himself think about the
significance of the gift past the moment in which it had been given. It
was unfair to Gabriel, who seemed to be the last person in the world
to give anything away to a man who so resembled what Gabriel
loathed. The clamps swung and the chain caught around Rase's
fingers. Gabriel wanted him to have them, not just as a gift, not just
as a reminder, but as permission.

He ran a hand down his body, thinking of what he'd done with Gabriel,
remembering what Gabriel liked in all of it. Gabriel had been raw and
breathless, straddling Rase's lap and strangling him gently, teasing
him, hurting him. Rase shivered at the memory and ran a clamp over
one nipple, watching it harden. He wondered what Gabriel's face would
have been like then, if it would have been bare with need for what
Gabriel was doing. The idea made Rase moan softly, and he pushed
away the idea of stifling his voice. No one was here to hear him, and
Gabriel liked to hear him.

"Gabriel," he murmured. He tugged at his nipple, twisting until he

shuddered, then slowly closed the clamp on it. The dull teeth dug in as
he closed it and he moaned again, his breath coming faster. By the
time he had the other clamp on, he was panting. A tug on the chain
made his hips rock as pain spiked through him.

Rase slid his hands over his chest and down his belly, not touching his
cock but sliding past it to cup his balls. He rolled them between his
hands, then squeezed slowly until the pain made him gasp. The
memory of his belt on them was simultaneously thrilling and
nauseating. There was no pain like that one. He picked up the belt and
spread his thighs wide. It would be almost impossible to get that blow
from this angle, impossible to hurt himself that way, even if he wanted
to. But he couldn't get a good swing at his tender inner thighs, either.
He needed to get something that would give enough impact with a
short swing. God, why didn't he think ahead?

Instead, he ran his nails down the inside of one thigh and shuddered.
It wasn't enough. There didn't seem to be enough pain in the world for
him sometimes. The rising pain in his nipples was a small drop in the
sea he wanted so badly. He needed someone to hurt him so much.
Rase whimpered as the bare realization asserted itself again. He
tugged the chain between his nipples until his back arched and he felt
his skin part.

"Please," he whimpered. Fuck, but begging turned him on. It had been
too long since he'd been with Gabriel. Suddenly, it occurred to him
that Gabriel might be feeling that it had been too long as well. His
breath caught, but the next moment he was afraid they'd miss each
other somehow, and he was suffocating with the fear of it. "Gabriel.
Please."
 Please come back . Rase wrapped a hand around his cock and
stroked, his other hand sliding into his hair to tug his own head back.
Gabriel had to come back. It was so good to be together. The memory
of Gabriel's weight on him, of Gabriel pushing into him… the fear was
washed away in a flood of lust. Rase groaned out loud and shuddered.

He needed Gabriel to come here and get him off, somehow. The
fantasy of Gabriel walking in right now, the crack of Gabriel's hand
across his face, the shock of it, the cruel twist of Gabriel's fingers in
the chain that Rase mimicked, making himself gasp with the hot,
tearing pain in his nipples, was intense.

Rase wanted the belt on his skin, the crack of it, the sharp edges that
left bloody welts on his thighs. He clutched at it, remembering how
having it around his throat had felt so terrifying and safe at once, like
Gabriel owned him, even down this his breath. His cock was slick with
pre-come, and he twisted the belt around it twice, three times, the
rough side curving against the painfully tight, thin skin.

With his hand clamping the leather against his cock, Rase stroked
himself, whining with the pain after the first two strokes. His hips
came up, pushing him into the pain harder, faster. He was making the
kind of noises that Gabriel made him make, strange animal sounds of
pleasure.

"Fuck me." He wanted Gabriel in him so badly, wanted Gabriel to ride

him just as desperately. All that mattered was that Gabriel use him to
get off, even if Gabriel wanted to watch and not touch. He clenched
his fist tighter, imagining Gabriel standing in the doorway, watching
him.

Eyes open, staring at the dark without seeing it, Rase arched into his
own hand. In his head, he was watching Gabriel stroke his perfect
cock, making Rase crazy with his beauty. Come for me. Oh, fuck,
Gabriel sounded so broken sometimes, especially on the verge of
coming. Rase felt himself, shaking, tensing, on the edge of orgasm,
and realized that the noises coming out of his mouth were Gabriel's
name.

Coming rocked his head back and brought his hips up off the bed as
he babbled Gabriel's name, twisting his belt around his cock and
jerking it with his thrusts. He was on fire and it wasn't enough. All he
wanted was more, please. He was going to get down on his knees
when he saw Gabriel and kiss his feet and beg.

Rase sagged back onto the bed, shivering. He needed to stop refusing
himself this. He dropped the belt by his side and brought his hand to
his mouth to lick it clean. When he unclamped his nipples, his eyes
filled with tears with the rush of pain as blood surged through his
aching flesh. It was so good, and he was still so lonely.

It was better than before, though, he told himself. He got up, feeling
unsteady and old. This would have been easier to go through when he
was twenty-five. In the bathroom, he put the clamps back where he'd
found them; he wouldn't forget them this time. At least he had some
assurance of seeing Gabriel again.

Washing up brought another flood of memories, of Gabriel washing

him clean. Let me help you get clean. That still made his hands shake
and his vision cloud. Blinking away the fog, Rase looked into his own
eyes in the mirror. He looked back at himself, a tired man, an aging
man, but nothing loathsome. Just something human.

Rase rinsed the cloth in hot water and started washing himself clean.
Another thing Gabriel had taught him. No scrub brush, no disinfectants
to clean him, just warm water and a soft cloth that were gentle on his
skin. He washed from head to toe again, rinsing the cloth out every
time it got cold, even though he didn't need it.

When he was done, Rase put everything away, pulled his pajama
pants back on, closed his laptop, and put himself to bed. Lonely was
better than not being here at all. He pulled a pillow to his chest so that
he could curl around it, and he closed his eyes.

It took a long time to fall asleep. The house was full of odd noises:
branches brushing the roof, the wind in the windows and the
chimneys, the creak of the structure changing as the temperature
plummeted and made Rase grateful for the layers of down covers he'd
bought. He pulled the blankets up under his chin and felt like a child
sleeping in his own bed for the first time. Eventually, though,
weariness and desire to see the next day chased him into sleep.

Chapter Ten
Rase woke up to the unfamiliar sound of a hand pounding on his front
door. He dug through his suitcase for a bathrobe and pulled it on over
his bare torso, doing it up as he hurried to the door. Gabriel? He didn't
know who else to expect. Anyone else would have called first.

"Dad!" Takis, looking the worse for wear, was standing on his front
step with coffee and donuts. He was unwashed and unshaven and his
hair was spiraling off in a multitude of directions, but he was smiling
brilliantly. "Surprise!"

Rase stood there blinking and then he shook his head to clear it.
"Takis." As surprising as his son's appearance was, the surge of
ridiculous happiness that Rase felt at seeing him was even more
unexpected. It was the same happiness that he felt when Takis was a
little boy and would come rushing to the door when Rase came home.
"Come on in." Rase stepped back to let his son in.

"I came down to hear a few new bands," Takis said as he stepped in.
"And then I got your message. I figured, I could call you back, or I
could just show up. Man. You bought a house."

"Well, I needed something to do with my time," Rase said dryly. "You

know how I am when people leave me unsupervised. It was buy a
house or get married again. Come on, kitchen is this way." He led
Takis through the empty house to the kitchen. With people in it, the
house looked even emptier.

"This is kind of nice, Dad," Takis said. "You didn't get anyone to do the
shopping yet?" He put the coffee and donuts down on the counter,
helped himself to a donut, and managed to eat more than half of it all
at once. Rase sighed inwardly but let it go.

"Well," Rase admitted, "I was considering doing it myself. It's not like
I'm in any hurry, and I'm the only one who's going to live here. I need
to paint it first."

"Seriously?" The word was muffled by a mouthful of donut. "Cool. We

can go get some paint in," Takis checked his watch, "about fifteen
minutes."

"Fifteen minutes?" Rase picked up his coffee and took a drink. He was
going to need it today.
"Yeah. We can go and buy paint. All by ourselves." Takis wandered
over to the large windows overlooking the overgrown garden. "Dude,
you really need a lawnmower."

"I can't decide on a color." Rase took a chance on one of the donuts
and bit into it. Jelly-filled, sugared, and fresh, it was better than he
remembered donuts being. "I'll get a lawnmower when I get a
gardener."

"So, paint it in a neutral color. Something like a cream or soft beige,

even white. The whole thing, all the way through. It'll highlight the
floors and trim, and you can just put art up." Takis looked at Rase as
though this were the most basic knowledge that any kindergartener
should know.

"Maybe." Rase took another bite of donut. "But the other house was all
white."

"You can always repaint it if you hate it," Takis pointed out. "It's only
paint, Dad. It doesn't have to be perfect the first time, all the time."

That was something of a revelation. "I like green," Rase said

thoughtfully.

"Me, too. Let's just pick stuff," Takis said. "If it sucks, we can paint it
again."

We. Rase would have painted the house pink, as long as it was what
Takis wanted to do with him. "Let's buy paint, then. What about
furniture?"

"Later." Takis pointed at the donut box. "Throw me one of the

chocolate ones?" Throw… Rase gave up and gingerly plucked out a
chocolate donut, then flicked it at his son. Takis caught it on his palm.
"Thanks. You should ask Mom about furniture, or maybe Allen."

"I can do it myself." Rase tried not to sound childish about it and
failed.

"This might end up being a funny lookin' house," Takis said, then
shoved half the donut into his mouth. He settled down on the window
seat overlooking the gardens and gave Rase a look that dared him to
comment on Takis' donut-eating strategies.

"You don't have to visit," Rase pointed out, though that was the last
thing he wanted.

"I need a laugh once in a while." Takis took a drink of coffee, and his
eyes sparkled at Rase over the rim. "So, whatcha doing with that little
place down by the front?"

"Charlene said I could tear it down; the zoning doesn't protect it. But I
was thinking I'd fix it up." Rase didn't like the idea of ruining his
property; he liked it the way it was. He was surprised how fast he'd
become attached.

"Might be good if you wanted company but wanted your privacy,"

Takis said indifferently.

"Might be." Rase leaned on the counter and looked at his son, trying
not to smile at the way Takis was looking the other way, out the
window, like he didn't care. "Know anyone who might be coming to
stay now and then?"

Takis just shrugged and looked down at his coffee. Rase relented and
put his own coffee down, then walked over and put a hand on Takis'
shoulder. Takis still didn't look at him. "I do," Rase said. He leaned
over and kissed his son on the top of the head, dirty hair and all. He
hadn't kissed his son in years. "If you want to. Any time you want to.
You can even pick out the furniture so you don't laugh too much."

Takis leaned his shoulder against Rase's hip, his head against Rase's
side. "Thanks, Daddy," he said quietly.

"Any time." Rase stood there, stroking Takis' dirty, sweat-stiff hair for
a minute. "I'm going to go get dressed. Did you want a shower? I can
lend you some clothes."

"I'll just get dirty again painting." Takis straightened up and looked up
at Rase. "I can grab a shower later. If you don't mind?"

"No." Rase reached out and messed Takis' hair more, if that were
possible, and headed for the back of the house. "Feel free to look
around. Keys to the little house are by the front door."
"I better go check out my digs. See if I can't fit a fifty-two inch flat
screen somewhere in there."

Rase could hear the chair scrape back and the thud of big boots as
Takis went exploring. Of course, the big television was vital for a boy
that age. He laughed quietly on his way to the bedroom. Rase would
have to look into soundproofing as well; there was no doubt Takis
would be hosting band practices between semesters.

Having his son look up at him with a smile was the best thing in the
world, Rase thought. It had been when Takis was a baby, then a child,
and it was now. What amazed Rase was the way that the smile had
stayed the same in so many ways. Maybe he had done a good job
while Takis was still a little boy, until he and Maggie had split up when
Takis was ten, but Maggie had done a better job than Rase at keeping
it alive.

As he found his one pair of jeans and a T-shirt -- it was by some

designer and he'd bought it quite by accident, really, mostly to get the
sales assistant off his back, but it would do -- Rase realized that he
was looking forward to seeing Maggie again. Maybe they could do that
soon. When, he wondered, had he gotten to be such a social creature?
He did up the jeans and found them a little loose, so he grabbed his
favorite belt without thinking about it.

The sensation of leather against his hands got him in the gut and his
breath caught. That was when. When Gabriel had come and turned his
life upside down. Rase ran his thumb over the smooth leather and
sighed with pleasure, then started to put it on. Life was better upside
down.

***

The whole house was covered, front to back, in plastic. Takis had
insisted on starting the painting in Rase's room. "You have to live
here, Dad. We should start in your room. Hey, nice bed. Really posh.
Naptime!" With that, he'd thrown himself across the bed and lain there
until Rase covered him with a plastic sheet. Sputtering, he'd gotten up
to help with the taping. By lunch hour, they had Rase's entire room
painted a sage green.

"What's for lunch?" Rase carried the rollers to the sink to wash them
out. He was dreading the answer, but he was still on probation for the
whole trust fund incident and then the years of refusing to go to Takis'
shows because it would encourage him to "waste his life." What a
crock. Rase was ashamed of himself and would take his punishment
like a man.

"Pizza," Takis said gleefully. "And beer. I can go get it." He threw paint
tray liners into a big garbage bag. "We need beer for your new house."

"I'll get you some money." Rase moved out of the way so that Takis
could wash his hands.

Rase was in the back room, finding his wallet, when there was a knock
on the front door. Sound carried right through the empty house.

"I'll get it," Takis called.

Rase shoved his wallet into his pocket and was on his way back to the
kitchen to finish cleaning up when he realized who was probably at the
door. The spike of fear and shame and adrenaline that tore down his
spine left him nauseous and damp-palmed. He took a slow breath and
started for the front. That he was sweaty, paint-speckled, and barefoot
-- not having a pair of shoes he cared to get dirty -- didn't cross his
mind.

"For you, Dad." Takis stepped back from the door and gave Rase a
grin. "I'll just go grab my keys."

Gabriel looked beautiful. The sun was on his hair like it had been in
Miami, but right now he was wearing a suit to rival one of Rase's, dark
brown over a soft green shirt. It made him look warm and elegant.
"Hey," he said, pushing his sunglasses up on his head so Rase could
see how green his eyes looked with that shirt. "I was in the
neighborhood."

"Come on in." Rase put his hands in his pockets so he wouldn't touch
and they wouldn't shake. "It's good to see you."

"Didn't know you'd have company," Gabriel said as he stepped inside.

"Maybe I should try again later?" His expression was arch and cool.

It took Rase a moment for the meaning to sink in. "Oh, no." He shook
his head and stepped out of the way as Takis came bounding back. He
saw his son through other eyes, briefly, a leggy but broad-shouldered
man with wild dark hair, bright eyes, and a beautiful mouth. "My son,
Takis," Rase said. "Takis, this is Gabriel."

Takis slowed down enough to offer Gabriel his hand. "Hey, man. Nice
to meet you."

Gabriel was startled a moment, then recovered and shook Takis' hand.
"Gabriel Chariton. Likewise. Don't let me send you packing."

"Nah, going out to grab pizza and beer. I'm starving. The old man
here's a slave driver." Takis slapped Rase on the back. "I'll make sure
to get plenty. See you in a bit."

"Drive carefully." The words were out of Rase's mouth before he could
stop them, as Takis went bouncing out the front door and down the
steps. Rase caught the door before it could slam and then gave
Gabriel an apologetic smile. "He showed up this morning. He was at
some all night jam in town, and he's still going."

"Guess I never really thought of you as the dad type," Gabriel said. He
still looked a bit uncomfortable, playing with his key ring without
seeming aware of what he was doing.

"I'm not that good at it," Rase admitted. "But I'm working on it." He
let himself look Gabriel over, soaking him in. "How are you?"

"Good." Gabriel spun his key-fob around the ring, making his keys
jingle. "You?"

"Not bad. Impulsive, apparently." He gestured around him at the

house. "But at least it's just a house, right?"

"Just a ridiculously expensive house," Gabriel pointed out. "Not

structurally worth the money you paid for it, unless you were planning
to push a zoning change through." There was a hint of challenge in his
eyes, and he lifted his chin when Rase gave him a startled look.

"Would I be painting it if I were planning on tearing it down?" Rase

held his hands out from his body, offering himself up for inspection.

"You have a point." Gabriel smiled, just a slight tugging at the corners
of his lips. "And paint in your hair… and on your arm… and…" He
waved his hand, gesturing from Rase's hair to his feet.
"Takis was attempting to christen me with the bedroom color," Rase
said, feeling his cheeks flush a little at being caught doing something
so childish, and he rubbed at his chin while looking down at his paint-
speckled feet. "He got me a few times before I taught him a lesson.
Apparently my parenting days aren't quite over." The lesson had been
in the form of a swat on the backside with the paintbrush, then a good
tickling. Takis was awfully ticklish and had been since childhood.

"It's a nice color. Suits you." When Rase looked up, Gabriel was really
smiling this time.

"Thanks." The smile warmed Rase right through. "Did you want to
come in? There's coffee still." Takis had tossed a coffee maker into the
cart at the hardware depot and insisted on stopping for the "good
stuff" on the way home. Rase now had a set of mugs that were more
Maggie's style than his from the free-trade coffee shop; his house was
rapidly turning into home.

"I don't want to interrupt," Gabriel said, looking over his shoulder
toward the way Takis had gone.

"He'll be a while," Rase said. "The beer store with the organic beer is
over on the other side of downtown." He nodded toward the kitchen,
then took a few steps that way, looking back to see if Gabriel were
coming, too.

Gabriel was just a few steps behind. "Organic beer and pizza?" He
looked skeptical.

"The pizza's not organic. I think it's mostly grease. The beer, well, he
got some odd ideas from his mother." Rase got a clean mug and
poured Gabriel a cup of coffee. "I don't complain. I have to eat
whatever he wants; it's a punishment he made up for me when he
was about eleven, to try and cure me of bad behaviors like leaving the
movie to take a business call. I hate greasy food, he loves it."

"Black's good," Gabriel said as Rase was reaching for the locally-
produced organic cane sugar crystals. Rase handed him the mug.
"Thanks. You weren't kidding about not being great at the dad thing."

"No, I wasn't." Rase poured himself another mug. "I'm lucky I haven't
had a coronary by now with some of the stuff he's made me eat. If I
never see a corndog again in my life, it'll be too soon." Gabriel almost
choked on his coffee, recovered, and started to laugh. "What?"

Gabriel put the mug down and leaned on the counter, still laughing.
"Oh, Christ." He rubbed the heel of one hand across his eyes. "Just
when I think I have you worked out. Corndogs. You just…" He
gestured at Rase.

"You expected to find me here working on how to tear this place

down," Rase said, realizing it slowly. "And you thought Takis was my
bit on the side, which I don't have, and if I did, I wouldn't have him
over if I thought you were dropping in. And you think I'm just like
everyone else, all those men you loathe, which is okay. You weren't
that wrong."

Gabriel shook his head slowly. "Right there, see, you're not. Aren't,
couldn't be, even if you tried to be. I keep wanting you to be, and…"

"Don't give me that much credit," Rase said. He took a drink of coffee
and swallowed it past the lump in his throat. "I was sleepwalking or
something, pretending damn well I was like that even if I wasn't.
Close enough that it didn't matter. But things changed."

"What did it?" Gabriel reached for his coffee again but paused, waiting
for an answer.

It was so good to just be standing here, talking, that Rase could

hardly believe it. He looked at Gabriel for a long while, and Gabriel
met his eyes with a curious look when no answer came. "You," Rase
said at last. "After that day in my office, I went all the way to Mumbai
to get away, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Coming back
didn’t help either. In the end, I couldn't decide whether to look up
your number and address or open up the gun safe. I looked you up,
because the guns weren't going anywhere. But…"

Anything else Rase had to say was cut off when Gabriel stepped in and
kissed him. Rase was so startled, he almost dropped his coffee.
Gabriel's hands were warm on his face, and the kiss was as deep and
intense as the one outside the motel in Miami. Rase managed to put
his coffee down so that he could pull Gabriel close while they kissed.

"Hey, Dad." They hadn't even heard Takis return. "I forgot the cash…"
Gabriel pulled away but didn't get far with Rase's arms around him.
"…whoa, dude. Sorry."

Rase caught a glimpse of Gabriel's expression, pale and closed down

as he let Gabriel go so he could get his wallet out. "My fault," he said,
tossing it to Takis. To his shock, he wasn't horrified or humiliated.
Maybe he was too stunned to react.

"Me, too. Sorry guys." Takis' cheeks were a little warm, but he looked
unperturbed. "Carry on, pretend I wasn't here," he said briskly. "I'll
make more noise next time." He gave Rase an apologetic grimace as
he shoved the money in his pocket and then threw the wallet back.
"Back later."

With that, he was gone, leaving a distressed silence in the kitchen in

his wake.

***

The moment the front door closed, Rase looked over at Gabriel,
wanting to assure himself that the younger man was okay. Gabriel
was looking out the windows, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Not
very okay. Rase tucked the wallet away again.

"Sorry," Gabriel said, as Rase was looking for something to say.

"What for?" Rase leaned his hip on the counter and stood there
watching Gabriel. He could have a fit over Takis catching him kissing
another man later. Maybe the worst of it had already been dealt with
when he'd told Takis about it before.

"Just… your son, and…" Gabriel pushed away from the counter. "I
think I should go."

"Gabriel." Rase kept his hands to himself through force of will as

Gabriel stalked across the kitchen, headed for the front door. "It's
okay."

"Your son just walked in on us, and it's okay?" Gabriel turned around,
his face cold and angry.

"It's okay with me," Rase clarified. "It's okay with him. If it's not okay
with you, that's all right, too." He held on to the edge of the counter to
keep himself in place.
Gabriel looked lost and then shook his head. "I don't care," he said, in
the tones of someone who probably cared at least a little.

Rase supposed that maybe he'd screwed up so much with Takis, and
Takis had been so rebellious as a teenager, that they were both rather
numb to any dumbassery on either of their parts. "He's used to me,"
Rase said gently. "No surprises here. You don't have to go, if you don't
want to."

"I should." Gabriel stood in the doorway, not moving. He had his keys
swinging slowly from one finger.

"Do you want to?" Rase was sure his hands were white-knuckled, he
was clenching the countertop so hard.

Gabriel looked down at his keys, then back at Rase. "I could stay a
little while," he said. "Maybe until he comes back."

"I wouldn't make anyone I liked drink organic beer and eat cheese-
crust pizza," Rase said dryly.

That got him a small exhalation of a laugh as Gabriel relaxed and

slouched against the doorframe. "Hey, I like cheese-crust pizza," he
said, mustering up a smile for Rase.

"God, I'm surrounded." Rase pushed himself away from the counter
and took a few slow steps toward Gabriel. When Gabriel didn't freeze
up, he kept going. "You can always stay for lunch, too. If you want."
He stopped in front of Gabriel, hands in his pockets again.

"Anything I want," Gabriel said, toying with his keys again. "Seems to
be a theme with you."

"I already have what I want." Rase shrugged. "You're here, aren't
you?"

"Why the hell do you say things like that?" Gabriel sounded pained,
and he looked up at Rase with a helplessness in his eyes that made
Rase ache.

"They're true?" Rase shrugged again, feeling guilty and not knowing
why. "I can stop."
"Don't." Gabriel put his keys away in his pocket. "Why don't you show
me your new place?"

"Sure." Rase was a little startled by the sudden demand, but he

supposed it would keep them out of bed, and keep them from
screwing up the tentative peace between them. "Kitchen, obviously."
He gestured around them. "Recently redone, as I don't think travertine
tiles were in vogue a hundred years ago, or the ubiquitous stainless
steel appliances. Large windows, perfect for leaking heat out into one
of the many man-eating gardens around the place."

Gabriel laughed quietly and stepped aside as Rase came toward him.

"I'll show you the front of the house first," Rase said on his way past.
"Since you missed it on the way in."

"You're planning to repaint the whole thing yourself?" Gabriel followed

along slowly, his distress seeming to seep away.

"My first wife says it's good for me," Rase said, gesturing helplessly.
"In a non-existential sense."

"What the hell?" Gabriel murmured.

"I know." Rase looked over his shoulder at Gabriel and gave him a
smile. "I don't even try and make sense of most things these days. I
get so much more done that way."

***

Out in the back, before the woodlot, there was a listing picnic table
under an old oak. Gabriel sat down on a bench there, careless of his
suit, and leaned back on the table.

"It's a nice place," he said, watching a few colorful birds flirt in the
bare branches of the trees.

"Yeah." It still surprised Rase how nice it was. "I hate it when my real
estate agent gets smug, but I'm not sorry I bought it yet."

"And the second house out front?"

"Takis is already taking measurements for the flat screen television
I'm apparently buying him." Rase laughed at that and shook his head.
"I figure I'll fix it up and he can stay there whenever he wants. I think
the novelty will fade pretty fast for him once he's done with school,
but I don't mind having him around. It's probably good for us."

"You're probably a better dad than you think," Gabriel said quietly.

"Thanks." Rase's feet were icy in the damp grass and the wind was
cool through his thin T-shirt, but he didn't care. He came slowly over
to sit near Gabriel, straddling the bench a couple feet away, hands on
the gray, splintering wood between his thighs. "I don't know that I'm
good at anything but business, but that doesn't mean I don't care."

"It's weird to see you like this."

"Like what?"

"This." Gabriel looked over and gestured at Rase. "Dirty. Sweaty.

Disheveled."

"Thanks." Rase laughed at that and shook his head. "It's weird to see
me like this, too."

"It looks good on you."

"Thanks."

They sat there with the wind between them and the birds overhead,
the inches that parted them feeling like miles. It was one of those
days that was scrubbed clean by cold wind and a few days of rain,
bright and shiny and sharp. It was almost painfully new out. Rase
caught the pale green spears of something pushing up through the
grass out of the corner of his eye; it wasn't just him struggling out of
hibernation.

"Are you busy tonight?" Gabriel's question brought Rase's attention

back to him. The wind had brought some color to his cheeks and was
pulling at his hair.

"Not sure." Rase hadn't talked to Takis about it. "I don't have to be."
He was fairly certain Takis would be irritatingly approving of his having
a date.
"I don't want to cut into your time with your son." Gabriel tipped his
sunglasses down to thwart the bright sun.

"I don't want that either," Rase said honestly. "But he's got to sleep
some time, and I've only got the one bed here. He's too cool to crash
with his dad, anyway. Did you want to have dinner tonight?
Tomorrow?"

"I may go back tomorrow night," Gabriel said. He shifted so he could

stretch out his legs and slide his hands into his pockets.

"Dinner tonight, then," Rase suggested. "Just tell me where you want
to go."

"You really want to go out to dinner?" Gabriel shot Rase a skeptical

look out of the corner of his eye.

"As opposed to what?"

"Getting on your knees and begging me to beat you." There was no

inflection in Gabriel's voice, no heat, and no emotion at all. He wasn't
even looking at Rase.

Still, the words sent a rush of need through Rase, and he had to
breathe through it. "I don't want one more than the other," he
answered, fully aware that he was being challenged. "They're not
interchangeable. I want them both."

Rase took a breath to calm the pounding in his chest and continued,
even though Gabriel wouldn't look at him. "I want to go out to dinner
with you, anywhere you want, on a date. And then I want to go back
to your place or my place and I want you to beat me until I bleed." He
couldn't stay neutral, couldn't keep the thickness out of his voice or
stop the heat growing heavy in his groin and belly as he spoke. "I
want you to hurt me until neither of us can take it anymore, and then
I want you to use me to get off."

"Fuck." It was little more than an exhalation. Gabriel swallowed hard

and pulled his hands out of his pockets, pushing himself to sit leaning
forward, hands clenched on the bench. He still wouldn't look at Rase,
but Rase could feel the need coming off of him in waves. "I'll pick you
up at eight. Make us reservations somewhere. I don't care."
"Yes, Gabriel." Rase let the subservience surface, clamping down on
the need to slide off the bench and fall to his knees in the wet grass.

Gabriel's head snapped around as though someone had hit him, and
Rase could see his eyes blown with need behind his sunglasses. "If I
told you to suck me off right now…?"

"Yes." It would still be twenty minutes before Takis got back, at least.

"Good." Gabriel pushed himself to his feet and stepped close. Rase
was half-expecting him to unzip his pants. Instead, he grabbed a
handful of Rase's hair, pulling his head back. "Maybe tonight, if you're
good."

"Yes, Gabriel." Rase could hardly form the words, his throat was so
tight with need.

Gabriel leaned down and kissed Rase so hard it hurt, the kind of kiss
Rase dreamed about. Rase kept his hands to himself and was
rewarded by Gabriel's fingers finding one of his bruised nipples
through his T-shirt and clamping it between thumb and forefinger until
Rase flinched, then pressed into the pain. Gabriel found the other with
his other hand and did the same, making Rase's back arch. He was
hard in his jeans and not cold anymore.

"Eight," Gabriel said, stepping back and sliding his hands into his
pockets to mask the swell of his erection.

"I'll be ready," Rase said, forcing the words out past the tightness in
his throat. He made himself sit and watch as Gabriel walked away and
out of sight around the side of the house. When Gabriel was gone,
Rase looked down and unclenched his hands from the bench. There
were splinters in his palms, and he began pulling them out slowly,
watching the blood well up where the wood had been.

Chapter Eleven

After lunch, Rase had sent a punch-drunk Takis off to get some rest.
Then he made reservations at a restaurant he almost never went to,
an upscale penthouse restaurant with a view of the city and an almost
aphrodisiac menu. It was a place one went to be seen, to people
watch, to impress.

Rase didn't much care for those things in general. If he wanted to be

seen, he'd do an interview. If he wanted to impress, he'd put a new
wing on a hospital or open a new library or something productive. He
hadn't been expecting to be accommodated, he never did, but the
maitre d' made an exception, as always.

Rase put on a suit he'd never worn before, dark with a thin pinstripe,
over a pale gray shirt that he left open at his throat. He dropped the
clamps that Gabriel had given him into the inside breast pocket of the
suit jacket. It seemed like he should bring them. He was already
wearing a belt.

Rase was nervous, turned on already. He finished rubbing hair product

through his hair to keep his curls from going wild and looked at
himself in the mirror. He wanted Gabriel so badly, he was already half-
hard, his eyes wide and dark. There were hours to go before he could
be with Gabriel again that way, he wanted to actually be able to pay
attention, he told himself.

He undid the buckle of his belt and unbuttoned his pants, then slid the
zipper down. He pulled his briefs away and took his hardening cock in
his hand. Slowly, he stroked himself, getting harder and making his
breath come short. He was moving faster, watching pre-come bead on
the head of his cock, panting, when the phone sitting on the side of
the sink rang, startling him.

The number wasn't one he recognized so he answered, hoping it would

be Gabriel. "Hello?"

"Rase." It was Gabriel, and Rase shivered. "Are you ready?"

Rase kept stroking himself slowly, sliding his thumb through the pre-
come on the head of his cock. "Whenever you are." He knew his voice
was thick with sex, and he didn't bother to hide it.

"What are you doing?" Gabriel asked. It was amazing to Rase how
quickly Gabriel's voice could shift from cold to hot that way.

"Jerking off," Rase said simply. He let his hips move, pushing his cock
through the circle of his hand.
There was a pause before Gabriel spoke. "Where?"

"Bathroom." Rase looked at himself in the mirror, facing down the

dark and need in his own eyes.

"Not there." Rase's hand stopped moving as soon as Gabriel spoke. "I
want you on the bed."

Rase had never imagined that this would come of this conversation.
He walked to the bedroom slowly. "How?" On his knees? On his back?

"Are you dressed?" Gabriel asked. His voice was thick now, as though
Rase's need were contagious.

"Yes," Rase admitted. "I didn't want to be late. I just couldn't take
thinking about you, wanting you, anymore. I didn't want to be
distracted from you."

"I want you to lie down in your bed. Undo your shirt." Rase did as he
was told, his breathing harsh and his hand clumsy on his buttons.
"Then go back to doing what you were doing, and tell me what you're
thinking."

Chest bare, Rase spread himself out on the bed and took his cock in
hand again. "I'm thinking about you," he confessed. "I'm thinking
about the way you taste in my mouth. The noises you make when
you're fucking me." He couldn't help moaning softly at the memories.
"Fuck, and the way you slap my face. The way my blood tastes." His
hips were moving now, and his cock was wet again.

A moan from Gabriel startled Rase. "I love the way you take it,"
Gabriel said. "Jesus, the way you just come back for more."

Rase was panting and whimpering, just listening to Gabriel talk. "I
need you to hurt me," he said, before he could censor anything.
"Nothing I do hurts enough." He didn't care how pitiful and pained he
sounded right then.

"I'm going to hurt you," Gabriel promised. "Don't worry. I'm going to
beat you, I'm going to make you fucking scream. Oh, fuck, no one can
hear you where you are now. I want to hear you scream for me." His
voice was so raw, his breath so ragged, that Rase knew he had to be
jerking off as well. "I want to hear you, I want to hear everything."

"Gabriel," Rase gasped. This was the most insanely hot thing he'd ever
done alone. He wasn't really alone, though; Gabriel's breath was harsh
in his ear. "Gabriel, fuck, please. Please." His hand was making
obscene, wet noises over his cock, and he was grunting like an animal
between words.

"Please, what?" Gabriel demanded roughly.

"Hurt me. Fuck me." Rase had to stop stroking so he wouldn't come.
"My mouth, my ass, I don't care. I want your fingers in me, I want
your cock. I want you to use me." He made a raw noise as he closed
his hand over the head of his cock and twisted.

"Oh, Christ." Gabriel sound like the words were being ripped out of
him. "Put the phone down, just put it down. I want your fingers in
your ass. Three of them. I want to hear your voice like it's me doing it
to you."

Rase's mind blurred and he dropped the phone but he remembered to

reach over to where his earpiece headset was lying with his wallet and
keys on top of his laptop. He flicked it on and set it in his ear. "No
phone," he managed to say. "Oh, fuck, Gabriel." He shoved his pants
down and pushed his hand between his thighs. "Three." He groaned as
he started pushing three dry fingers into himself at once.

"Rase," Gabriel said unsteadily. "Do it hard."

It hurt, and Rase couldn't help the way he whined and moaned; he
didn't try to stifle it, he let it out so that the sound bounced around his
freshly painted bedroom. By the time he got his fingers in to the last
knuckle he was making desperate noises, slack-mouthed, staring at
nothing and hardly hearing Gabriel's voice in his ear.

"Fuck yourself, baby," Gabriel was saying. "Get them all the way in."

"Yes," Rase gasped. "All the way, it hurts, it hurts." That didn't stop
him from pulling them out, pushing them in again, and starting to fuck
himself. After the first few strokes, he was bucking, jerking his cock,
crying out sharply over and over again.

"Oh, Christ," Gabriel whimpered. "You're such a whore. Fuck, you're a

slut."

The first shot of come splashed up Rase's chest as he jammed his

fingers in deep. "I'm the whore here," he wailed, his voice echoing
through the empty house. "I'm coming, oh, God, I'm such a whore.
Gabriel, fuck, I'm your whore." He couldn't speak in sentences after
that; words were ripped out of him at random between cries. Rase
fucked himself and jerked off hard, careless of the pain, pushed
further by it. It felt like he couldn't stop coming, thrashing around on
the bed.

Distantly, he could hear Gabriel coming, babbling profanity. That just

made it better, knowing he wasn't alone. Then there was nothing but
their harsh breath in tandem. Rase closed his eyes and pulled his
fingers out. He lay limp on the bed, painted with his own come,
trembling.

"Now get dressed," Gabriel said. "I'm coming to get you. We can have
a nice dinner, now that that's out of the way." There wasn't any
recrimination in his voice; he sounded as content as Rase had ever
heard him.

"I'll be ready." Rase looked down at himself, at his disheveled clothes

and his come-splattered chest and belly. He wanted Gabriel to see him
this way. Photographs were too risky, so he would just have to do it
again some time, where Gabriel could see. With that thought warm in
his mind, he got up carefully to get clean.

***

Rase had been pacing the empty living room in the dark for nearly ten
minutes, but the sound of the doorbell still caused him to jump half
out of his skin. As his heart was slowing back to a normal speed, he
opened the front door and Gabriel was there, looking even better than
he had that morning, if it were even possible. Rase felt heat in his
cheeks, seeing Gabriel so soon after their impromptu phone sex.

"Ready?" Gabriel looked Rase over as he stepped out, and Rase

realized that it was an approving sort of thing. They actually made a
handsome couple, both in elegant dark suits, with Gabriel's shirt being
pale gold to the pale gray that Rase wore.

"Yes," Rase said. "I made us reservations at Luz." He set the security
system and locked the front door behind him.

"Luz?" Gabriel looked surprised. Rase gave him an even look in return.
"Are you sure you want to do that?"

"I'm sure," he said. He started for the stairs to the driveway, but
Gabriel didn't follow him. "Is something wrong?"

"What are you doing?" Gabriel stood there with his hands in his
pockets.

"Going to the car?" Rase came back slowly, frowning. The expression
on Gabriel's face worried him, part anger and part confusion.

"Taking me to Luz?" Gabriel's expression darkened further. "It's a

Saturday night. The place is going to be buzzing. Is this all some…" he
gestured angrily with one hand, "some kind of scheme on your part?"

"No." Rase began to put the pieces together his mind. "Look, we can
stay in and have pizza, for all I care. I wanted to go out with you, I
told you that much, and I was taking you to the place I would take
anyone I really liked." He stopped in front of Gabriel, wishing he could
do something, or say something, to get this right. "The food is good,
the atmosphere is good, and I thought I should take you someplace
really nice. And, yeah, people will see us. But I don't even want to
think that way, that I should even worry about it."

"This isn't about your divorce or something?" Gabriel's expression was

softening slightly, but Rase knew that he was still on the verge of
screwing everything up.

"No." Rase stepped in a little closer. "We can stay in, we can go to
McDonald's, we can get takeout and eat it on top of my office building.
I don't care. I told you, I like you, and the rest is details."

"I hate it when you do this," Gabriel said. He walked around Rase and
down the front steps, searching in his pocket for his keys.

"When I don't make any sense?" Rase followed down the steps at a
slower pace.

"Yeah, that," Gabriel said. He was driving a rented car, a nice one, and
he walked around to the passenger side door to open it. "So, when are
our reservations for?"

"Eight-fifteen," Rase said. He realized that Gabriel was waiting for him
to get in the car, so he came around to that side. "You're okay with
going?"

"Get in the damn car." Gabriel gave Rase an exasperated look and
gestured into the car. "I can't believe you got reservations there with
any kind of notice, much less a few hours on a Saturday."

"People seem to have this thing about doing things for me," Rase said
dryly. He got in the car, though, before Gabriel could change his mind.
"I really have no idea why."

Gabriel snorted. "Very funny," he said. He closed the door and came
around to the driver's side of the car. Rase was used to being driven,
but he usually sat in the back seat and worked if he wasn't driving
himself.

When Gabriel got in the car, Rase found himself caught up in looking
at him all over again. He hadn't spent a great deal of time looking at
men in his life; it was a luxury he didn't allow himself. He was sure
that if he had fallen into the habit, something like this might have
happened a great deal sooner. But no one had the nerve to be as
forward as Gabriel had, and Rase realized now that it must have been
some kind of terrible frustration or anger that led Gabriel to act the
way he had in Rase's office that day.

They were out of the long driveway and negotiating the narrow streets
of the old downtown when Gabriel finally grew uncomfortable with
having Rase's eyes on him. "Is there something on my cheek?"

"No," Rase said. He felt himself blushing and was grateful that it was
dark. "I just… it's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too." Gabriel didn't look at Rase when he said it;
he clenched the steering wheel a little tighter, and kept his eyes
straight ahead. It was things like that that made Rase's heart ache,
the suspicion and the distance, not for himself in any way but for
Gabriel. Whoever had hurt him deserved a certain amount of pain as
repayment.

They made it to the tower where Luz was located on the top floor. The
streets were glossy with a fresh coat of rain, and the sky was lit up
with the sweeping lights of downtown. They parked in front of the
building and handed the keys over to a valet while the doorman came
out with an umbrella for them. Rase wasn't even thinking about it
when he slid an arm around Gabriel's waist to keep him close and dry.
It felt right.

This was one of Rase's favorite buildings in the city. The lobby was an
architectural tangle of vaulted white archways reflected in the polished
black granite floor. He'd been to numerous receptions here, held
meetings in some of the offices on the upper floors. The elevator shaft
that rose up the center of the lobby was silver and glass. The whole
building felt airy and light. There were other people coming and going;
there were several nightclubs here, several other restaurants.

Gabriel was quiet on the way to the elevator. They stepped in with two
other couples, and Rase waited until they had given the attendant
their floors before requesting the penthouse for himself and Gabriel.
That got them some interested looks, which Rase ignored with the
ease of years of practice.

"It's been years since I was here," Rase said, leaning in to speak
quietly to Gabriel. "I'm trying to remember why last time."

"Another date," Gabriel murmured, watching the numbers change on

the display, his face expressionless.

Fine, if Gabriel was going to be like that… Rase slid an arm around
Gabriel's waist and leaned in little closer. If Gabriel was going to be
difficult, Rase could be too, and in the opposite direction. "No," Rase
said, almost in Gabriel's ear. "I think I brought my mother."

Rase could feel Gabriel stiffen at the contact, but he didn't pull away,
and that was something. He even made a little noise that might have
been a laugh at Rase's comment. "Did she have a good time?"

"She always did," Rase said quietly. "She doesn't remember now, but
she loves pretty places and pretty people and interesting food. That
was before she got worse; now being out in public makes her nervous,
so we just have lunch together in the home."

"Oh." Gabriel was quiet while the other two couples got out. When the
elevator closed and started moving again, he leaned in toward Rase
enough to whisper, "You're doing it again."

"Sorry," Rase whispered back. "I'll try and stop it."

"Don't." Gabriel's breath was soft on Rase's cheek.

Rase would have kissed him then, regardless of where they were, but
the elevator chimed and then came to a halt. Gabriel stepped away
and out the doors as they slid open. Rase followed him out into the
rich waiting area for the restaurant that lay beyond the archway
ahead. The air was full of sweet scents and soft voices and the light
sounds of live music. Rase was unexpectedly nervous, but he took a
breath and caught up with Gabriel. He didn't even have to say a word,
the elderly maître d' saw them coming and stepped out from behind
his counter.

"Mr. Illion," he said, smiling warmly, "right this way. We're so glad you
could come." Rase was fairly sure it was the same man who had been
there the last time he'd been here.

They were seated in an alcove a few steps above the rest of the
restaurant, near the musicians and one of the brilliantly lit water
features. There were a few other tables, and the view of the city was
exceptional. One of the things that Rase had always liked about Luz,
one of the few things, was the view. The food was another thing. The
people who frequented the restaurant were enough to cancel out any
other positive qualities the place might've had.

The serving of the food and the utensils and the carefully constructed
vessels were as much a part of the entire affair as the strange but
elegant combinations of ingredients that made up the twelve-course
menu. Gabriel negotiated the entire thing with as much grace as Rase
himself, and Rase had been carefully schooled in such things. Perhaps
a steakhouse would've been more satisfying in terms of quantity, but
equally satisfying was the atmosphere and the knowledge that they
were out on a proper date.

The food gave them something to argue about, in a good-natured

way, and Gabriel knew more about wine than Rase was expecting him
to. Halfway through the meal, Rase was telling him about one of Takis'
first outings to a restaurant like this and even had Gabriel laughing.
Rase and Maggie had taken Takis out in Los Angeles when Takis was
all of eight years old, and Takis' consternation about the entire event
culminating in the mortal insult of an ice cream sundae that involved a
glass pipette full of chocolate syrup and a syringe of whipped cream
had been immense.

When Gabriel fell silent, it was such a contrast to the laughter of a

moment before that Rase looked around, worried. A thick-bodied,
silver-haired man was just taking his seat with his companions, a
somewhat younger man and a pair of women younger than Gabriel.
Rase recognized the older man, they'd seen each other across the
negotiating table more than once during a business negotiations. He
was a corporate lawyer, senior partner in his own firm.

"Are you all right?" Rase took a sip of his wine, watching Gabriel over
the rim. He'd seen Gabriel off-kilter before, but this was the first time
he'd seen the younger man actually pale. "We can go." He didn't know
what it was about, and he wasn't going to ask for specifics, but he
remembered what Gabriel had said about being a lawyer and not
talking about it.

"It's a little late for that now," Gabriel said quietly. "I used to work at
that firm. The problem was that I used to work for the younger one
there before that." He glanced over at Rase before turning his
attention back to the composition of duck and cedar before him.

"I see," Rase said, processing this. He took another drink of wine and
watched Gabriel eat. "He's the one who fired you, then?" Gabriel only
nodded.

Rase wasn't bothered. It surprised him, but he wasn't bothered any

more than he would've been bothered if his date was a woman and
they'd run into an old boyfriend together. It was irrelevant to him,
what people did in their spare time, what they chose to do together,
what Gabriel had done in the past. It wasn't who Gabriel was now, and
Rase didn't want Gabriel's past to define him any more than he
wanted his own past to be the definition of his present.

"Do you want to go?" Gabriel didn't look any happier.

"No." Rase shook his head and leaned back as the waiter came with
the next course. "All I care about is whether or not you're having a
good time."

By the time the waiter had put down the new mineral water and wine
and another had come with an elaborate arrangement of tiny smoking
racks of rosemary twigs with translucent strips of bison stretched over
them, Gabriel looked a little better. Rase smiled at him once they were
effectively alone and risked reaching across the table to brush his
fingers over the back of one of Gabriel's hands. Gabriel started, eyes
wide.

Rase picked up his glass. "To new lives," he suggested quietly. "I know
I rather like mine."

Gabriel cracked a smile and picked up his own glass. "And to those
who drag us into them, kicking and screaming."

"May we survive each other." Rase couldn't help grinning as he

touched his glass to Gabriel's.

"Amen," Gabriel said, just before he drank. After that, he had a real
smile on, and Rase felt unreasonably pleased with himself.

It was a blessing that the tables were arranged such that Gabriel had
no easy line of sight to the one where the lawyers sat. Rase wasn't so
lucky; he caught the long looks from the younger of the two and was
the recipient of a smug little smile when the other man caught his eye.
He wasn't embarrassed, he was just angry because he knew now
exactly what Gabriel meant it when he talked about "your type." And,
he was angry because he knew that must be the person who had hurt
Gabriel most.

When the other man got up and excused himself from his table, Rase
gave him a short head start and did the same. He put his hand gently
on Gabriel's shoulder when he got up, leaning in to murmur, "I'll be
right back."

The other man was nowhere to be seen in the otherwise empty

bathroom, so Rase assumed that he was the sole occupant of the
stalls. Rase used the urinal partly out of need and partly so that his
back would be turned when the other man emerged. When he did,
Rase followed him over to the sinks.

The man smiled at him in the mirror. "Having a nice evening?" It was
an innocuous question, but the tone was unmistakably salacious.

"Quite," Rase said amiably. He put his hand under the tap and was
rewarded with a rush of warm water.

"Rase Illion, isn't it?" The man took a towel from the skinny teenage
boy working as a bathroom attendant and dried his hands slowly.

"That's correct." Rase gave the boy a smile as he accepted the offer of
a towel.

"Your date's moving up in the world. I like to see people get ahead,"
the man said almost gleefully. "I knew he'd do well if he went back to
his old job. Funny, you didn't seem like the type."

"Oh, he doesn't work for me," Rase said. He was still smiling when his
fist caught the other man in the stomach.

It was immensely satisfying to know that, even at his age, Rase could
send a full-grown man flying. The other man hit the wall by the door
and slid down slowly, clutching his belly and gasping for air. He stared
up at Rase, wide-eyed and stunned. Rase crouched down to be at his
level.

"Let's get this clear. Don't ever assume that someone like you has
anything in common with someone like me." Rase held up a hand as
the man started to speak. "I don't think either of us should forget who
I am. And don't ever insult my date again."

Rase straightened up and handed his used towel to the boy. He also
reached into his pocket and brought out a couple of bills. "Sorry you
had to see that," he said as he handed them over to the boy.

Rase's hand hurt slightly, and he felt appropriately sheepish about

having given into such a base instinct, but beyond that, he felt a great
deal better. On the way back to his table, he stopped to speak to the
senior partner. Alexander Bitmore, that was his name; it was all
coming back to Rase now. He was an old devil, well suited to sparring
with Rase's father.

"Mr. Bitmore," Rase said genially. "Fancy meeting you here. It's been
years. You haven't changed a bit."

"Rase." Bitmore shook Rase's hand, and Rase was pleased to find out
that he hadn't really hurt himself. "It's good to see you again. How's
your mother?"
"She's about the same as always," Rase said, "thanks for asking. I just
wanted to let you know that your dinner companion, Mr.…"

"Jim Malloy?" The blonder of the two blondes piped up.

"Mr. Malloy, right." Rase gave her a brilliant smile and was rewarded
by her batting her lashes at him. "Anyway, he's not feeling particularly
well, and he asked me to let you know that you should go onto the
next course without him."

"Oh, I hope he's all right," she said.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be fine," Rase assured her. He patted her hand
gently. "You have fun, though; I know he'd hate it if you weren't
having a good time."

"Thanks for letting us know," Bitmore said, offering Rase his hand one
more time. Rase shook it and then moved out of the way so that the
waiters could bring the next course to the table.

"Any time." With that, Rase headed back to his table.

Gabriel was waiting for him, tense and pale. "What the hell are you
doing?"

"Nothing." Rase gave him a warm smile. "Just taking care of

business."

"Don't lie to me." Gabriel looked on the verge of fury.

"I was just letting the party know that Mr. Malloy wouldn't be joining
them right away because he wasn't feeling well." Rase sat down and
flexed his hand without thinking about it. Gabriel's expression was still
so distressed that Rase gave in. "He was rude to me," Rase admitted.
"About you, and smug. I hit him. He pissed me off."

Gabriel was silent for a moment, staring at Rase, and then he pulled
his napkin from his lap and put it on the table. "We're leaving," he said
flatly.

Rase wasn't shocked, but he was a little disappointed. As Gabriel got

up and straightened out his jacket, Rase tucked cash under the
centerpiece and followed suit. They were on their way down the steps
to the main part of the restaurant when Rase caught sight of Malloy
heading their way. He put his arm around Gabriel, just enough to let
his hand rest of the small of Gabriel's back, and kept walking as
though he had never seen the man.

Gabriel was silent all the way to the elevator. Inside, once the doors
had closed, the silence was almost oppressive. The attendant kept his
eyes forward and pressed the button for the ground floor.

Rase turned to Gabriel to apologize, but anything he had to say was

lost when Gabriel's mouth met his. Rase made a small noise of
surprise and wrapped his arms around Gabriel to hold him close,
yielding to his fierce kiss. Gabriel's fingers twisted in Rase's hair as
they kissed, tugging painfully and making Rase feel as though he
could catch fire from need.

Gabriel didn't stop until the elevator chimed on the ground floor. "Take
me home," he whispered as the doors opened. "Your place."

Rase could only nod; he was aroused and breathless and still stunned.
He had the presence of mind to slide his arm around Gabriel's
shoulders as they left the elevator, though. He didn't want to lose a
single moment of contact, no matter who saw them together or what
they thought.

Chapter Twelve

To Rase's surprise, Gabriel let him drive. The reasoning became clear
even as they were pulling away from the curb and Gabriel, foregoing
his seatbelt, leaned in to kiss under Rase's ear.

"Seatbelt," Rase said, trying to keep his voice steady. Gabriel didn't
obey; he just bit where he'd been kissing and made Rase's breath
catch. "Seatbelt or let me drive. Please."

"Just be careful." Gabriel started undoing Rase's tie, his mouth

ravaging the side of Rase's throat. "You can do that." He got Rase's tie
off and started working on the buttons of his shirt. Rase gave up and
pulled into a loading zone, turning to kiss Gabriel hard.
"I can and I don't want to," he said between hot, messy kisses. "I
want you and I can't do that and drive." It was raining, and that made
things worse for driving; Rase didn't want to take his chances, not
with Gabriel.

"Then you don't want me enough." Gabriel bit Rase's lower lip hard,
then shoved him back against the driver's side window. "If you did,
you'd drive right now."

Rase just pulled him close for another hungry kiss, moaning into it and
ignoring the noise when Gabriel put out a hand to steady himself and
hit the horn by accident. This was so inconvenient and so fucking hot,
and Rase was trying to figure out a way they could have sex here in
the front seat. Gabriel was trying to climb into Rase's lap when
someone going past pounded on the hood of the car with a fist.

"Get a fucking room!"

"He has a point," Gabriel said breathlessly. "How the fuck am I going
to get a good swing in this space?" He pulled back to look at Rase,
leaning on the dashboard; he was just visible in the light from the
streetlamps, and his expression was purely salacious. "God, I want to
beat your fucking gorgeous ass and make you come."

"Then do up your seatbelt," Rase said, feeling reason still prick at him
through the haze of desire. "And then we can go and you can do
anything you want to me." He had no idea what that would be, but it
was bound to be amazing. This was Gabriel, after all.

"Fucker." Gabriel grabbed a handful of Rase's hair and yanked him in

for a hard kiss. "I can't fucking blow you with my seatbelt on."

Rase moaned as his lips were crushed against his teeth. "You're young
and flexible," he said, holding his ground. "You can manage."

"Fuck. Fine." Gabriel threw himself back into his seat and did up the
seatbelt. He slouched there like he'd been thrown, glaring at Rase.
"Happy?"

Rase reached over and slid his hand between Gabriel's thighs, stroking
up his erection. "Yeah," he said thickly. He put the car in drive again,
taking his hand away to do it, but once they were moving with traffic
once more, he did it again. Gabriel's hands slowed at undoing his own
tie and Gabriel moaned, spreading his legs more. "That better?" Rase
asked as he kept stroking.

Gabriel just whimpered and undid his pants, opening them up so that
Rase could slide his hand under the fabric without looking. At a
stoplight, Rase looked over to see his hand sliding up and down
Gabriel's cock that was exposed for anyone to see. He was sure they
were breaking at least one law, and he didn't care. Gabriel was
watching him, eyes wide, lips parted. "Better," he whispered, nodding
slightly. "Make me come."

Rase didn't question. He just kept his hand moving as he drove, rolling
the palm over the head of Gabriel's cock and making him moan. It was
busy downtown, and traffic was heavy but not too sluggish; it was the
pedestrians that kept slowing things down. By the third stoplight,
Gabriel was panting hard and writhing, hands clenched on the sides of
his seat. Rase would have been painfully aware that anyone could look
in and see them, but the rain had started coming down hard so that
the windows were awash in drops.

"Rase…" Gabriel hissed his name as traffic picked up again and Rase
sped up. "Fuck. I never let him fuck me," he whispered through
clenched teeth. "I never let any of them. I never even let them touch
me."

Rase's hand was wet and slick with pre-come; the car smelled like sex.
"I don't care," he said, forcing his voice to stay steady. He palmed the
head of Gabriel's cock and made himself moan with the hard heat of it.

"Fuck." Gabriel whimpered and arched. "You don't…"

"This is now. You came to me tonight. Nothing else matters." That was
the end of it. Rase tightened his hand and was rewarded with a
desperate noise from Gabriel and the scraping of his feet on the floor
mat.

When they didn't make the next light, Rase leaned over and sucked
the head of Gabriel's cock into his mouth. It wasn't comfortable, but
he managed, and he was rewarded with Gabriel's hands in his hair,
shoving his head down as Gabriel's hips came up.

Gabriel came with a raw shout, fucking Rase's mouth and filling it with
a flood of come. Rase sucked and swallowed, moaning with the taste.
He pulled back just in time to see the light changing ahead. "See, it's
not so hard," he said, getting the car moving along with the rest of the
traffic. The rain was a heavy silver veil that wrapped around their little
metal haven and kept their secrets in.

Gabriel sagged in his seat, eyes closed, breathing hard. "Bastard," he

said, as soon as he could manage it. He tucked his shirt back in and
did his pants back up slowly. Then he leaned over to kiss Rase on the
neck again, hands sliding between Rase's thighs to cup his cock and
balls through the fabric of his pants. "You feel good," he murmured.

Rase had to concentrate on the left-hand turn he was making, biting

his lip hard to try to ignore the way Gabriel's hand felt on him.
Gabriel's breath was hot on his cheek, still heavy, and it just made
Rase's body respond in kind. Rase wanted to undo his pants, to beg
Gabriel to get him off, but he resisted. "Your fault," he said in a low
voice, turning his head to kiss Gabriel on the mouth once it was safe.

"I like it being my fault," Gabriel said. He pushed his hand down under
Rase, stroking back behind Rase's balls, and Rase found himself
shifting to get more contact with Gabriel's fingers, even through his
pants. "You like that." Gabriel's voice was little more than a moan in
Rase's ear.

Rase had to drive slowly up the winding narrow streets of the old
section of town where he lived now. It was so hard to concentrate like
this. "Could I get you off like this?" Gabriel was relentless. His hand
kept moving, teasing. "I think I want to make you come in your
pants."

"You could," Rase admitted. He was fighting the need to whimper. It

was so frustrating not to feel Gabriel's touch on his skin, but he was
still a little sore from what he'd done to himself earlier, and that added
to the sensation. His whole body felt sensitized; he could feel his
nipples against the fabric of his shirt, still bruised from the clamps.

"Maybe you should wait." Gabriel bit Rase's ear and made him
whimper in spite of himself. "I like seeing you hard, I love how wet
you get." Rase almost missed the turn onto his street. "It's really
fucking hot. You have no idea how much it turns me on to watch your
cock drip while I'm beating you; I know it hurts and you're still so
hard."
Rase's hands were white knuckled on the wheel as he turned into his
driveway. He could feel wetness where his cock was leaking in his
pants, and he felt desperate, like if he'd just pushed down hard
enough, Gabriel's fingers would part the seam of his pants and,
splitting the fabric of his briefs, push up into his ass. He was panting
and writhing in his seat, spurred on by Gabriel's teeth on his neck,
even as he was pulling into a parking spot beside his own car.

"We could do it right here," Gabriel whispered. "In the rain, outside,
with you naked and bent over your own car." He got his free hand in
Rase's hair and tugged Rase's head back against the seat. He was
panting hard, as turned on by teasing Rase as Rase was turned on by
his words. "You want to crawl through the puddles and mud and beg
me to let you come? I could beat you all the way up your own front
steps."

Rase was undoing his seat belt and then his shirt even as Gabriel was
speaking. "Anything you want, Gabriel." The sound of his own voice
made him shiver, it was so soft and submissive. "I'll do anything you
want me to do." Rase undid his belt and slipped it out of the belt loops
while Gabriel was kissing him and pressing the heel of his hand hard
enough in to Rase's balls to make Rase groan with pain.

"Get out of the car," Gabriel said. He took the belt out of Rase's hand
as soon as Rase offered it up. "Get out of the car and take your
clothes off. Leave them on the front seat of the car, put the keys on
the roof. I want to see you naked."

"Yes, Gabriel," Rase said. He was almost shaking as he got out of the
car.

***

The rain was icy and painful; it beat down with large, punishing drops.
Rase didn't care. He tossed his shoes and socks into the foot-well of
the car; his shirt and jacket were already half-soaked by the time he
took them off and threw them into the front seat of the car. He put the
keys on the roof where he had been told to leave them and put the
clamps beside them.

Gabriel left his jacket on the front seat as well and got out the other
door. When he came around the car, Rase was standing there naked
in the cold, and the rain, waiting for him.
"That's what I want," Gabriel said. "I want a man who loves to do
what I say." He reached down and stroked Rase's cock slowly while
Rase stood there with his hands behind his back, trying not to shake.
"Tell me what you'll do for me."

"Anything," Rase said. "Anything, Gabriel." Gabriel looked so young

and beautiful in the rain, his hair turning dark from the water and his
features glistening with drops. His hand on Rase's cock was firm and
steady, keeping him hard in spite of the cold. Rase felt like he could
drown in Gabriel's eyes right then, they were so warm and deep.

"Put your hands on the hood of your nice car there," Gabriel ordered.
Rase did what he was told, putting his feet wide apart and standing
there with his head down and his hands on the hood of the car. "I like
that," Gabriel said.

He came up behind Rase and reached between his thighs, taking

Rase's balls in one hand and tugging gently. "You look really hot like
that." He ran the tip of Rase's belt down Rase's back, following his
spine. At the base he slid it between Rase's ass cheeks and teased him
with it. "It would probably hurt like hell if I fucked you with this,"
Gabriel murmured, almost to himself. "But I bet you don't care, do
you? I bet you'd scream and come anyway."

Rase could only moan and nod. Gabriel let go of him, and Rase knew
what was coming. The belt cut through the wet air with a whistle and
came down across his back from shoulder to hip. The sound that came
out of him was half moan, half cry. Gabriel beat him with the belt until
his back and ass and thighs were on fire and he was shaking so hard
from the rain that the noise of his teeth chattering drowned out
anything else. Still, he was desperately turned on.

Gabriel grabbed him by the hair, pulling him away from the car and
pushing him down onto his knees. Rase let it happen, falling to his
knees on the paved driveway, barely aware that water was washing
around his fingers and his knees. "House." Gabriel's foot caught him in
the ribs, making him lurch forward, and he started crawling.

The belt came down over and over again as Rase crawled, making him
whimper every time. When he got to the front door, he knelt there
with his eyes down, listening to Gabriel open the lock. Gabriel kicked
him again as soon as the door was open. "Reset the security system,"
he said.

Rase did as he was told, crawling in and getting up on his knees to do

so, and then he was back on all fours, waiting for Gabriel's
instructions. Gabriel's feet came into his line of sight and stopped.
Rase couldn't help leaning forward and licking the toe of one of
Gabriel's shoes. When he wasn't reprimanded, he kept doing it,
moaning as he remembered licking Gabriel's feet. It was so good to
find his way back down this low; he shivered when he thought of how
he must look right now.

"Take them off," Gabriel said. "I don't want to track water all over
your floors." Rase did as he was told and then followed Gabriel
through the house without thinking, crawling at Gabriel's heels as soon
as Gabriel turned away. It was warm in the house, but not warm
enough for Rase to stop shivering. As aroused as he was, he was only
half-hard now.

In the bedroom, Gabriel pulled the covers back to the foot of the bed
with one impatient movement. Rase looked up, kneeling at Gabriel's
feet, and watched his lover undress. "You had these in your pocket?"
Gabriel pulled the clamps out of his own pocket and dangled them in
front of Rase's face.

"Yes, Gabriel," Rase said, feeling his cock swelling again at the sight.

"You've used them?" Gabriel reached down and took a handful of

Rase's hair, pulling him to his feet. Rase stood as Gabriel pulled him
up, his knees shrieking in protest. He was too old to be crawling
around in the rain and on hardwood floors, but he didn't care. Gabriel
held him like that, supported by one hand in his hair, as he swayed.

"Yes, Gabriel." Rase was light-headed but he focused on Gabriel's face

until he was steady.

"You think of me when you do?" Gabriel used a hand in Rase's hair to
pull him in for a hard kiss that crushed Rase's teeth against Gabriel's
lips. He kept his hands behind his back so that he wouldn't reach out
and touch Gabriel without permission, but he kissed Gabriel back
fiercely, licking at Gabriel's tongue and teeth.

"Yes, Gabriel," Rase said when Gabriel pulled way. "I think of you all
the time. I'm sorry."
The back of Gabriel's hand caught Rase across the face, hard enough
to send him staggering into the bed. He half fell across it, catching
himself just in time. Stunned, he looked over his shoulder Gabriel.
"Don't apologize to me," Gabriel said, his expression smooth. "Don't
ever apologize for what we do together, whether I'm here or not. I
wouldn't have given to you if I didn't want you to think about me. Do
you understand?"

Sprawled on the bed, Rase nodded slowly. "I understand, Gabriel." He

started to push himself up so that he'd get back to his feet. Once he
was standing, Gabriel grabbed him by the chin with one hand.

"So tell me again," Gabriel said, his face just inches from Rase's. "Do
you think of me when you use these? Do you think of me when you
jerk off? Do you like it?"

Rase nodded as best he could. "Yes, Gabriel." His voice was thick with
need, and he was fully erect again. "I think of you, and the things you
do to me, and I love it. I only wish you were here. Sometimes I touch
my belt by accident," he confessed, "and it turns me on so much, just
the feel of it, that I have to get away so I can go and jerk off because
I want you so much."

"Christ," Gabriel whispered. His eyes were huge and dark. He kissed
Rase so hard that Rase could hardly breathe, and then kissed away
from Rase's mouth. He kissed down Rase's chest, hands on Rase's
hips, until he was sucking and biting at one of Rase's nipples. Rase
was moaning, hardly aware that he was doing it.

Gabriel's teeth sank into his flesh and he let out a low cry, his fingers
knotting together in the small of his back. Gabriel bit that nipple,
pulling it away from Rase's body, and then set one clamp just below
his teeth. The metal digging into Rase's flesh was another rush of pain
that almost brought him up on his toes. Gabriel did the same on the
other side, leaving Rase shivering with pleasure.

Gabriel stepped back to admire his handiwork. Rase could see the
approval and arousal on his face, and the line of his erection pressing
against the fabric of his pants. "So beautiful," Gabriel murmured. He
reached out and brushed his fingers over the barely visible scars on
Rase's shoulders. "What are these from?"
"My shoulders were damaged," Rase said quietly. "That incident I told
you about, remember? When my father found out."

Gabriel didn't say anything. He walked over to where he'd hung his
jacket up on the back of the door and reached into one of the pockets.
When he came back, he had his handcuffs in his hand. Rase was
breathless now, waiting to see what came next. When Gabriel jingled
the handcuffs imperiously, Rase held his hands in front of him, wrists
close together. Gabriel's hand closed around the cuffs, and the next
minute they caught Rase across the other side of the face, making him
stagger.

"Never keep anything like that from me again," Gabriel said icily.
"Never forget to tell me anything that important, anything that could
really hurt you, again. Do you understand?"

At least this time, Rase stayed standing. He regained his balance and
stood as he had before, hands out in front of him. "Yes, Gabriel," he
said, looking at Gabriel from under his lashes.

"If I hurt you," Gabriel said, "I want it to be on purpose. I want to hurt
you in the ways to make you come back for more, over and over
again." He was speaking softly, his voice low and intense, as he
snapped the handcuffs around Rase's wrists.

"Yes, Gabriel." Hearing Gabriel talk like that made Rase dizzy with
desire. "I want that too. Please, Gabriel." He met Gabriel's eyes just
for a moment, and it was like electricity, looking into their depths and
seeing his own need reflected there.

Gabriel looked down and slid one finger over the wet head of Rase's
cock. Looking Rase in the eyes again, he brought his finger to his
mouth and sucked it slowly. Rase didn't bother to stifle his moan.
Gabriel did it again and let his eyes slip shut as he licked Rase's taste
from his skin. When he did open his eyes again, he grabbed the chain
between the handcuffs and yanked Rase toward the bed.

Rase stumbled toward the bed and almost fell as Gabriel bent him
over. Hands on the bed, forehead on the bed, he stood there with his
feet apart and his ass in the air, feeling absolutely exposed. It was
perfect. He looked down his body to see his swollen cock glistening.

"Tell me you want it," Gabriel said. "Tell me what you want."
"Hurt me." Rase pressed his forehead against his hands and rocked
slowly, humping the air. Just saying it made him writhe. "Hurt me,
please, Gabriel. I don't care how." It was so good to beg. "Please."

Rase heard the hiss of Gabriel's belt being drawn out of the loops, and
the next minute it fell across his already tender, whipped ass. The
shock of pain made him gasp and shudder. Gabriel's belt was bigger
than his, heavy black leather, and it came down hard. On the next
stroke Rase realized that Gabriel must have doubled it up. The impact
was intense and made him grunt with every hit, his eyes filling with
tears. Gabriel beat him all over again, hard, and left Rase shaking and
moaning, aching for more.

"Get in bed." The belt hit the floor and Gabriel's hand came down on
Rase's burning ass. Dazed and confused, Rase obeyed, crawling up
onto the bed. "On your back." Rase rolled over on his back, cuffed
hands clasped on his belly, knees up and apart. He opened his legs
wide, remembering the way that Gabriel had beaten him before.

Gabriel stripped off the rest of his clothes and crawled up into bed
after Rase. He got between Rase's thighs and leaned in to kiss one of
them tenderly. Rase watched him, eyes wide, wondering what would
happen next. Gabriel kissed him again, on the thigh, so gently. One
side, then the other, his kisses getting wetter and hotter, sucking
more and more at Rase's flesh, until he was starting to bite. The blood
rushed to the surface and Rase's nerves started to sing with pain.

Something that had started so sensuously soon had Rase twitching

and whining as Gabriel's teeth sank into his flesh over and over again
and his mouth sucked blood to the surface in one cruel kiss after
another. Rase's muscles were trembling with the effort to stay still.
Gabriel made an animal noise and bit him even harder, hard enough
that Rase thought he felt skin break. His hips came up off the bed and
he cried out at the pain. His cock was dripping onto his belly, he could
feel the drops cooling on his skin; he wanted to come so badly. Gabriel
marked him until Rase was whining with it, and then he pulled away,
leaving Rase alone.

It was dim in the room and Rase didn't have permission to move, so
he listened. Gabriel was moving around, it sounded like he was looking
for something. Every time Rase breathed, a fresh little surge of pain
spread outward from his nipples. The air moving in the room burned
his thighs. Just existing, just lying here with his back on fire, was pain.
It was so good.

Then Gabriel was back, his mouth over Rase's in a kiss that took
Rase's breath away. Gabriel tugged the chain between Rase's nipples,
hard, and made him wail into their kisses. He straddled Rase, sliding
his cock and balls against the handcuffs and Rase's clasped hands,
moaning as they kissed. Rase shifted his hands to cup Gabriel's cock
as he thrust, feeling wetness streak his palms. Gabriel sat back,
pressing his cock and balls into Rase's hands as he did, and held up
Rase's lube and a condom.

Gabriel opened up the condom and moved it enough that he could

press it into Rase's hands. "Put that on yourself," he ordered. Rase
watched him, wide-eyed, and started to do what he was told. As he
rolled condom onto his cock, he watched Gabriel squeeze lube out
onto two fingers. Gabriel put the lube down and planted one hand and
the center Rase's chest as he knelt up a little. Rase thought he was
going to explode, touching himself and watching Gabriel.

Gabriel moaned, loud and shameless, watching Rase as he reached

between his thighs and slipped his fingers into himself. He had Rase
moaning with him almost immediately. He kept his eyes on Rase's as
he finger-fucked himself, delicious noises slipping out of his half-open
mouth. Rase let his hands slide over his own cock, smoothing the
condom down, and then cupped them around the base so that his cock
was there for Gabriel to use.

Rase loved the way Gabriel used him to get off. He would have done
anything for Gabriel, this, or anything else that Gabriel could dream
up. Gabriel pulled his fingers out and shifted back. Rase's cock slid
between his ass cheeks and then started to press in. Rase shuddered,
clutching the base of his cock and his balls so that he didn't come, as
Gabriel slowly sank down onto him.

"I like your cock," Gabriel said breathlessly. "I wish I could keep it
with me all the time. I'd fuck myself with it with it almost every
morning. I love having a cock in me." He sat back, running his nails up
the inside of his thighs and rolling his hips as he sank down onto
Rase's cock. He closed his eyes now, lost in his own world of pleasure,
and Rase watched him avidly.

It was better than any porn that Rase had ever seen. There was
enough light in the room to watch Gabriel by as he rode Rase's cock,
hands sliding all over his own body. Gabriel reached down and rubbed
his fingers through the hair on Rase's belly, wiping up the pre-come
that had spilled there. He shoved his fingers into his mouth and
sucked them, moaning and riding Rase harder. Finally, he grabbed the
chain between the handcuffs and pulled Rase's hands up to his cock.

"Jack me off," he ordered, opening his eyes to fix Rase with a glare.
"Do it like you do to yourself."

Rase curled his fingers around Gabriel's cock, one hand around shaft
and the other wrapped around the head as he stroked Gabriel. The
slick heat of Gabriel's cock pushing past his palms made Rase shudder
and moan out loud. He knew how much Gabriel liked to hear him, so
he didn't hold back. He let his head fall back in the pillows, panting
and making little noises as his hips came up to meet Gabriel's. He
jerked Gabriel off in time with Gabriel's hips moving as Gabriel fucked
himself. Rase could feel his own orgasm, and he whimpered, biting his
lip to try and stave it off.

"Don't come," Gabriel said. "Don't come until I tell you to."

"I won't," Rase moaned. He forced himself to keep his eyes open,
looking at Gabriel's face, as though that would help. "I want to be
good for you, Gabriel. I just want to be good."

Gabriel's lashes fluttered and he groaned at Rase's words. Reaching

out, he tugged at the chain between Rase's nipples, making Rase's
breath catch. "I love it when you're a slut," he whispered.

"I am," Rase said brokenly. "I need it. I need you. Gabriel, please,
please…" Rase's belly was clenched tight, his legs shaking, as he tried
not to come.

"Say it," Gabriel said, tugging the chain hard. Rase arched under him
and cried out with the pain. "I love it when you say it." His voice was
raw, and his cock was slick in Rase's hands with pre-come. "I came so
fucking hard today when you said it. Fuck, Rase. Fuck, just tell me."

Rase realized what it was that Gabriel wanted to hear. "I'm a slut," he
whimpered. He writhed and his breath caught in a sob as he realized
that he was losing control. "I'm the whore if that's what you need.
Please, Gabriel, I'm your whore. I want it, I want it, I want you." He
tried to keep his focus on Gabriel's face. "Please, use me." It was
everything he could do not to come.

Gabriel had no such inhibitions. He was riding Rase hard, eyes huge,
whines and gasps escaping his lips. "Yes, fuck, yes. Yes, Rase. Come
for me." The rest of his words dissolved into gasps and loud cries as
he started to come.

Rase realized that the noises he was hearing, the ones drowning
Gabriel out, were him. The world was a blur of pleasure and pain, and
he thrashed under Gabriel, not even trying to keep any kind of control.
Gabriel rode him hard, clenching around him painfully tight, until they
both slowly fell in on each other as though their strings had been cut.

They lay there, crumpled, for a time as they recovered. Then Gabriel
pulled the handcuff key and chain from around his neck, pushing
himself up so that he could unlock Rase's hands. Rase was still in a
daze as Gabriel removed the nipple clamps, making him shiver and
making tears come to his eyes. He realized he must have whimpered
at it, because Gabriel's mouth brushed his and he could hear Gabriel's
soothing noises.

Rase forced himself to move, realizing that Gabriel had pressed tissues
into his hand, and he stripped off the condom and folded it up in the
tissues. That done, he tried to get up and found himself agonizingly
stiff from having been beaten twice in one night.

"Lie down," Gabriel ordered. He took the tissues away from Rase and
pressed Rase back into the bed. "Just rest." Gabriel disappeared into
the bathroom, and Rase could hear the water running. Gabriel came
back moments later with a warm washcloth that he used to clean off
Rase's cock and balls and then gently wiped him down with the other
side.

Once he was damp, Rase was chilled, but Gabriel pulled the blankets
up over both of them as he slid into bed. Rase turned toward him as
Gabriel slid one arm under Rase's shoulders, gathering Rase into his
chest. He ducked his head and kissed Rase on the mouth, tenderly,
stroking Rase's hair. "Are you okay?" Gabriel whispered.

The question made Rase's chest ache, and his breath caught in the
back of his throat, but he nodded, pressing his face into Gabriel's
shoulder. "I'm okay," he said, remembering that Gabriel liked to
actually hear the answer. Gabriel stroked his hair a little longer, then
kissed his temple.

"You have to tell me to stop, if you're not," Gabriel said softly. "You
turn me on so much I hardly know what I'm doing. I don't want to
hurt you, Rase, not in a bad way."

He was so gentle after the fact, so caring, that Rase's eyes stung with
tears all over again. "I'll try," he promised. "I never knew how before,
I never wanted to before."

"Oh, Rase," Gabriel said, holding him close. "You better fucking learn,
because I don't want to stop this, especially not by hurting you." He
was quiet and then he ducked his head to whispered in Rase's ear,
"I'm sorry about the first time."

"Why?" Rase pulled back to see Gabriel's face.

Gabriel pulled away completely and pushed himself up to lean against

the padded leather headboard. "I wasn't just careless," he said, not
looking at Rase. "I was malicious." He fiddled with the sheets that fell
down to his waist, smoothing them out. "I was angry. I wasn't just
doing it to you. I was doing it to them. You were just in the way. I was
out of control. I can't do that."

Rase reached out and tugged at Gabriel's arm to get him to lie back
down. "And I figured it out after the fact," he said. "Maybe you were
out of control, but so was I. I needed it so much. I'd do it again in a
minute, Gabriel." Just thinking about it was arousing.

It must have shown on his face, because Gabriel's eyes widened and
he leaned in for a kiss, a gentle one this time. "You're out of your
fucking mind," he said. "Don't change."

Rase laughed and got his arms around Gabriel, pulling him down. "I'm
too old to change," he said. "Stay with me tonight?"

"I think I'd be too tired to drive," Gabriel said. "You wore me out, old
man." He settled down in Rase's arms and Rase pulled the blankets up
around them again. Gabriel sighed contentedly and nuzzled against
Rase's chest. "Did you really punch Malloy in the gut?" he murmured
after a while.
Rase laughed into Gabriel's hair. "It wasn't one of my more mature
decisions," he admitted. "It was definitely one of the most satisfying.
I'm just sorry I didn't punch him in the face, but I thought he might
sue me over that."

Gabriel laughed as well. "I can't believe you even thought of that," he
said. "I never would have."

"Benefit of age," Rase murmured. "Besides, I don't get so many dates

with hot young men that I can afford to ruin them by getting
arrested."

Gabriel laughed even harder and tweaked one of Rase's bruised

nipples. "Now I know you're talking crazy," he said.

"Then maybe I should stop talking." Rase rolled Gabriel over and
kissed him slowly. Gabriel didn't seem to have any objection to that.
He wound his fingers into Rase's hair and kissed him back, slow and
sweet, until they both grew too sleepy to continue and drifted off in
each other's arms.

Chapter Thirteen

Rase woke slowly as the pain of last night's exertions crept in to his
awareness. He needed to get up and get some painkillers, but his back
and thighs were a mass of knots, thwarting him in the most ironic
manner. The overwhelming awareness as he woke completely, though,
was that someone was warm in his arms. Gabriel was still sleeping
soundly. Rase could see his face in the morning light, soft and
peaceful.

God, he was young; probably twenty years younger than Rase and
beautiful because of it, though beautiful under it as well. Rase kissed
Gabriel's forehead and shifted, biting his lip, to lie on his back. Gabriel
rolled after him, nuzzling against Rase's bare chest. Rase sighed and
cuddled Gabriel against him, ignoring all the other little details of the
pain he was in. That made it all worth it.

Gabriel moved when the sun crawled out from behind the clouds to
spill across his face. He made an irritated noise and rolled off of Rase's
chest, elbowing Rase in the ribs and kneeing him in the thigh as he
did. Rase couldn't help the low noise of pain he made as he attempted
to move away from the incidental abuse.

Rase decided he needed to get up, and now, before Gabriel woke
enough to see him looking his age, would be ideal. Carefully, he
pushed himself to sitting, realizing how bruised he was. There was no
regret, though. Every ache made him warm in his belly. He sat on the
edge of the bed in the sun for a moment, then pushed himself to his
feet and straightened by degrees. Once he was standing, he bit his lip
and risked stretching. His muscles screamed in protest and his joints
popped.

"Christ." Gabriel's sleepy murmur got Rase's attention. "I really fucked
you over."

"I'm okay," Rase lied. He ran his hands through his hair and turned to
look at Gabriel, self-conscious in the morning light, bruised and aching
and half hard with it.

"I'm getting you something proper." Gabriel pushed away the blankets
and crawled over to Rase. "A crop or a cane." He looked up at Rase,
eyes intense through his sleepiness. "You'll like the cane," he
promised, his voice thick with desire.

"Yes, Gabriel," Rase breathed. He could feel his dick getting harder
just from the tone in Gabriel's voice. Unconsciously, he ran his fingers
through his hair again and locked them together behind his neck to
stretch his shoulders out.

"I like that. Stay." Gabriel leaned over and, without warning, sucked
Rase's cock into his mouth.

"Oh, fuck." Rase's body jerked and he almost lost his balance. Gabriel
made a contented noise and, still on all fours on the bed, proceeded to
suck Rase off with incredible skill.

Gabriel licked and sucked, pulling back to tongue the head of Rase's
cock, until Rase was completely hard and moaning with it. He kept his
hands where they were, not wanting to touch Gabriel without
permission. He had no idea what the rules were here, still; Gabriel had
his own set of them, and all of them made Rase happy.

Watching Gabriel in the morning light -- the enjoyment on his face,

the way he looked sucking Rase's cock -- was amazing. Gabriel was
obviously lost in it, indulging some craving, and Rase was blissful in
indulging him, feeling that hot, wet mouth moving over his cock,
listening to Gabriel's low noises. Gabriel pulled away and looked up at
Rase, then lapped at the head of Rase's cock so that Rase could watch
that soft, pink tongue against his dark, red cock head. The sight made
him shiver, made his balls tense, and his body ached for more.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," Rase whispered. He had no idea what he was

saying, he just knew that Gabriel sucking him off was one of the best
things he'd ever seen.

Gabriel hummed with approval and set to sucking Rase down slowly,
tonguing and licking and purring all the way. He reached under himself
with one hand and, though Rase couldn't see, started stroking his own
cock, and that just made Rase moan and shudder, knowing that
Gabriel was jerking off that way. It was hard to hold out with all that
beauty to watch, Gabriel's debauched and contented expression, his
mouth wrapped around Rase's cock, his muscles shifting as he jerked
off.

Soon, Rase was moaning and rocking his hips, feeling shivers rise up
in one wave after the other. "Gabriel," he moaned, trying to warn his
lover. He didn't want to stop, didn't want Gabriel to stop. This was
heaven, with the sun warm on his aching back and thighs and
Gabriel's hot mouth chasing over his cock.

Gabriel looked up at him, eyes almost innocent, and took Rase in

down to the base of his cock. His eyes widened and he moaned, body
rocking as he jerked off faster.

It was everything Rase could do not to move. His back arched as heat
invaded his spine and belly, his hands clenched on each other at the
nape of his neck, and he gasped Gabriel's name. Gabriel swallowed,
moaning, as Rase came in a hot flood of pleasure, never taking his
eyes away from Gabriel's face.

Gabriel sucked Rase dry, like he didn't want to stop. His hips moved
hard as he fucked his own hand now. When Rase got too sensitive and
pulled out, he whined and licked at his lips, looking bereft.

Rase didn't have permission, but he dropped to his knees anyway,

licking Gabriel's mouth and kissing him hard. His knees were
screaming at him for the offense, but he didn't care. He could taste
himself and Gabriel at once, and Gabriel kept moaning into their
kisses, reaching that desperate pitch that said he was going to come.

"Please," Rase whispered against Gabriel's lips. He needed to taste

Gabriel, hadn't gotten to last night.

"What?" Gabriel's tone was thin to the point of breaking; he pulled

away and sat back on his heels, hand moving fast over his slick cock.

Rase leaned in and touched the tip of his tongue to the head,
clenching his hands in the sheets. "Please," he whispered again,
looking up at Gabriel.

"Fuck. Fuck, that's…" Gabriel's body jerked, clear pre-come welling up

out of the slit of his cock. "…yes." His free hand cracked across Rase's
cheek. "Open your mouth."

The shock and burn of the slap made Rase shiver with pleasure. He
did just as he was told, opening his mouth and looking up at Gabriel,
who seemed to hold the whole world just then. Gabriel was all good
things.

"Rase…" Gabriel's hips came up and come splashed over Rase's tongue
and down his chin. "Oh, fuck." Gabriel whined and panted as he jerked
off, filling Rase's mouth with come. As he sank back down onto his
heels, Rase licked the last of the come dripping out over Gabriel's
fingers, lapping it up so none of it was wasted.

Rase looked up at Gabriel when he was done, gauging his reaction.

Gabriel scooped the come from Rase's chin with a finger and fed it to
him, letting him suck that finger clean. Gabriel was smiling, just a
little, looking more amazed than anything else.

"Good morning," Rase murmured, once Gabriel had pulled his finger
away. He was definitely feeling better, loosened up.

"Yeah, it really is." Gabriel cupped Rase's face in his hands and kissed
him slow and deep. "Coming back to bed?"

"Just need my phone." Rase had left it out in the car last night. "So I
can order breakfast for us."
"Don't be long." Gabriel kissed him once more and then crawled back
to sprawl in the pillows, looking too beautiful to leave.

Rase reminded himself sternly that it was only for a minute "I won't."
He pushed himself to his feet and went to get his bathrobe. "I'll be
right back," he promised.

Rase walked out into a bright, crisp new day full of potential. Standing
on his front step, he took a deep breath of fresh air, then padded
barefoot out to the car to get his phone and clothes. He was starting
to like this life.

***

There were messages on his phone, as always, and he recognized

Takis' number on one of them. Wandering back into the house, he
listened to the message.

"Hey, Daddy." Rase was never going to get tired of that. "I got invited
to a practice today, so I won't be over to help paint. Hope you don't
mind. I'll be back down next weekend. I got a gig, man." Rase grinned
at the excitement in his son's voice. "Mom might be able to come, and
you did say you'd show up for one. Bring your boyfriend, if that's who
he is. You'll need someone to protect you from all the hot, available
chicks. I'd help, but I plan to have my hands full. Anyway, next Friday.
Catch you later."

Rase was still smiling when he came back to the bedroom and tossed
his clothes in the empty suitcase he was using as a laundry hamper.
He'd stopped in the kitchen to make coffee and to leave Takis a
message promising to be wherever he had to be -- with or without a
date -- to see Takis play. He was sorry for his past mistakes, but it
wouldn't make them better to be less happy now.

"What's so funny?" Gabriel was laid out in the sunshine, looking

remarkably like an angel who'd fallen off of a cloud and landed in
Rase's bed. His name was apt, once in a while, even if he acted like
the devil himself the rest of the time.

"Taki." Rase used his son's nickname without thinking about it. He left
the phone on the windowsill and stripped off his robe so that he could
get back in bed. His muscles twinged as he did, and he winced.
"C'mere." Gabriel held out his arms, and Rase let himself be drawn in
close. "You okay?"

"Sore." Rase relaxed cautiously against Gabriel's body, letting muscles

go slowly so he didn't hurt himself somehow. "It'll heal." He kissed
Gabriel's chest. "Taki wanted to let me know that he's got a gig next
Friday; I said I'd go. I've never been."

"Never? You are a shitty father." Gabriel softened his words with a hug
and a kiss to Rase's hair. "You'll have a good time."

"I'm supposed to bring my boyfriend," Rase added, then laughed.

"Oh, you have one I don't know about?" Gabriel nudged Rase over
onto his back slowly, letting him move at his own pace until Gabriel
was leaning over him, grinning.

"Well, no. I told him that wasn't the case, but he's being a pain. He
likes to tease me." Rase felt his cheeks flush. "I think I'm pretty much
too old for all that."

"Speak for yourself." Gabriel gave Rase an arch look. "I think you
need to take me out at least once more before I could say one way or
another."

"Friday night?" Then Rase thought maybe he wasn't too old, after all,
if the butterflies in his stomach were any indication. "I thought you
were going back to Miami."

"I nailed the interview I had yesterday morning," Gabriel said,

shrugging. "I found out before I picked you up yesterday night. I'm
staying around for the next phase next Wednesday. Another day or
two won't hurt."

"Friday, then?" Rase thought his heart was conspiring to escape his
chest along with the butterflies. "My ex-wife might be there," he
warned, wanting to be transparent about these things. "The nice one.
Takis' mother, Maggie."

"You're okay with that?" Gabriel frowned a little, and it was like the
sun went behind a cloud.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Rase was deeply grateful that he was telling the truth
about that. "She knows about you already." Gabriel gave him a darker
frown. "I had to talk to someone," Rase said, feeling the rush of fear
and sadness and shame he'd felt at the time come rushing back. "I
had to know I wasn't fucking everything up irreparably. I just… she
was my best friend, once. Who else could I tell?"

Gabriel's expression softened and he kissed Rase on the forehead,

stroking his cheek. "You're doing it again," he whispered.

"I'm…" Rase started to apologize, but Gabriel kissed him on the mouth
so that he couldn't speak for a long time.

"Don't stop," Gabriel said, as he pulled back from the kiss, his
expression gentle now. "Friday it is, then."

"Okay. Friday." Rase felt like he could breathe again. "Do you have
plans for today?"

Gabriel shook his head. "Not me. Is Takis coming back to help you
paint?"

"He's practicing," Rase said, not trying to hide his fond smile. "I think I
can figure out how to paint on my own."

"I'm not doing anything today," Gabriel said, sounding indifferent.

There was some undercurrent to it that Rase couldn't miss now. He
was learning fast.

"Some help wouldn't hurt, if you wanted to stick around." Rase leaned
up and kissed Gabriel on the mouth. "You can hold my hand in the
hardware depot. I hate those things. I get lost."

"They're just big stockrooms," Gabriel pointed out, then kissed Rase
back. "I can help you find what you need. Maybe a few other things,
too." His smile got wicked, and Rase laughed, even while a thrill ran
through him.

"Yes, but will you hold my hand?" Rase rolled them over again, so that
Gabriel was on his back, ignoring his muscles complaining about it. He
grinned down at Gabriel, waiting for an answer.

Gabriel was quiet a moment, then he laughed and leaned up to kiss

Rase lightly before falling back in the pillows and looking up at Rase
with a smile. "Yes, I'll hold your hand. No matter where we are."

-end-