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<![endif]> <![endif]>This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either
are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond
the intent of either the author or the publisher.

Uneven
TOP SHELF
An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers
PO Box 2545
Round Rock, TX 78680
Copyright 2007 © by Anah Crow
Cover illustration by Alessia Brio
Published with permission
ISBN: 978-1-60370-328-4, 1-60370-328-4

www.torquerepress.com

All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in

any form whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address
Torquere Press. Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680.

First Torquere Press Printing: August 2008

Printed in the USA

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-