High Society

After accidentally knocking the watercolor set on the floor in reaching for his first cigarette of the morning, Casey had added ‘carrying case’ on his Sunday shopping list. He, Zeke and Noah wandered the aisle of the classy, expensive art supplies store, with Zeke looking over Casey’s shoulder to disapprove of nearly every choice he made.

“No, not that one,” he said. Casey groaned.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s expensive as hell.”

“But I like it.” Casey smiled as he undid the leather lacing that held the flap closed. “And it’s almost the same reddish-brown of the wood. I’m getting it.”

“Fine, fine. Just don’t come crying to me when you need some smokes and don’t have the cash for ‘em,” Zeke said.

“Oh, shut it. I’ve never spent much on Sundays…except for chocolates and smokes. Otherwise, I’ve been a VERY good boy,” Casey replied.

A coy smile came over Zeke’s lips. “Yeeea, sure.”

Casey smirked and jabbed him lightly with his elbow, then made his way to the front counter. Zeke stayed behind, moving to the next aisle. Casey watched him with curiosity, especially when he rifled through a large jar of pencils. When Casey had said that he’d wanted to stop in here, he’d expected Zeke to not go along… “Meet you at the café,” instead of, “Yea, sure.” Right now, he wasn’t just going along for the ride, but perusing wares himself. Casey hoped he’d not be the only one to make a few purchases here.

His case was being wrapped when Noah arrived from the back, carrying a small photo album. Casey grinned. ‘Is that to arrange our ‘photo session’ properly?’ he asked.

‘Why not?’

Casey chuckled, thanked the clerk and looked back to where Zeke was still standing. The fact that he held three pencils and was taking a sketchpad from the shelf warmed Casey’s heart.


~*~


Sunlight poured through the window at Noir le Blanc, washing over the six-seater the boys had managed to snag. They’d been lucky to get it, as the café was chock-full. It’d almost looked as if they’d be sitting on the floor, but the small party that had occupied the table were just leaving during their search, allowing them seats. Casey eased into his chair, hot cocoa in hand and a smile on his lips. The sketchbook Zeke had bought was brought out and opened; Zeke held a pencil over a page. Though he stayed still, Casey was delighted. “Changed your mind, huh?” he asked.

“Hmm?”

“About your ‘artist status’.”

Zeke raised his eyebrows and took a deep breath. “Do me a favor… don’t bug me about it,” he said. “If I’m gonna do it, I’m gonna do it. But I might just sit here and do nothing.”

“All right, all right,” Casey said in a sing-song voice.

Noah now arrived, his coffee and muffin being placed on the table in front of him. After placing a napkin in his lap, he glanced to Zeke, smiled and began signing to Casey. ‘First time I’ve seen him with a pencil in his hand.’

‘I know,’ Casey replied, hoping Zeke didn’t suddenly understand sign language to start bitching at them to ‘shut the hell up and leave me alone’. He didn’t of course, so Casey took advantage. ‘He can do it. I proved it on Friday--he started helping me, doing it himself.’

‘Good. Everyone knows he can do it, no matter his attitude.’

“You’re talking about me, aren’t you?” Zeke asked, voice deadpan and eyes set on the blank page.

“Hah. Yea, Zeke. Think that,” Casey said. “We’re ALWAYS talking about you, because your blandness is always so damned interesting.”

Zeke smirked. “I am anything but bland.”

“Sure, sure…” Casey went to tease further when a hard tugging on his arm took his attention. He turned to see Noah, wide-eyed and nudging his head towards the door. Casey flicked his eyes over and stopped dead. “Oh. Shit.”

“What?” Zeke said. He, too, went very still in seeing Dennis walking in, dressed in his Sunday best with a woman under his arm. “Oh. Shit,” he echoed.

Noah coughed into his hand then scratched the back of his head which was turned to face the other side of the shop. Casey, however, couldn’t help but stare at the couple. The man hadn’t noticed them yet, allowing them to see how cool and casual he was. The smile he wore was one Casey had never seen before; it still looked sly and cocky, but with a softness he’d never equated with the man. The woman--Alyssa, if Casey recalled correctly--was a bit stout but very pretty in the face with blond, curly hair framing it. They both made their way to the counter and began ordering lunch.

“Ten bucks says she pays,” Zeke muttered under his breath. Casey couldn’t help a chuckle.

“No way.”

“Hah, ten bucks…” Zeke drifted off a moment as his hand finally moved over the page.

Casey felt the shock slipping away, being replaced with mischief. Leaning across the table, he looked to Zeke and whispered, “Should we say hi?”

Zeke shot his eyes up away from the page to give Casey a wide-eyed expression. “No. Fuckin’ don’t,” he said.

“Hmm. Lemmee ask Noah,” Casey said. He tapped Noah’s shoulder to get his attention then signed, ‘Should we say hi?’ Just like Zeke, Noah widened his eyes, pursed his lips and shook his head.

“Two-against-one. No dice, Casey. Playing around like that can get you into some serous shit,” Zeke said. He then nodded to Noah and gave him a thumb-up, which made Noah smile. Casey, however, was disappointed.

“It’s not like we’d say, ‘hey, we’re the boys you fuck! How’re you doing?’”

“No, Casey. Just… no,” Zeke replied.

Sighing, Casey turned his head, pretending to scratch the back of it to get another look. The couple had their sandwich orders and drinks in hand and were doing the same thing he, Noah and Zeke had done; their eyes scanned the dining area, Alyssa muttering things to Dennis, who was shrugging. That was when he found them; Casey could see the color drain from his face. The satisfaction was immeasurable. Nothing said he couldn’t meet the eye-contact and smile, so he did just that. Dennis bit his lower lip and turned to his fiancée, his free hand on her arm. It was a sure bet that he was ready to leave and find a park bench--anything to be away from his past. Alyssa nodded, but she, too, looked over at their table and paused.

Casey froze as she pointed at them. There was no way, now how, she could know them… or worse, know what they meant to Dennis. Still, she was smiling as she motioned Dennis to follow her over to their table, weaving through the many filled ones along the way.

“The fuck’s she doin’?” Zeke murmured in a hiss.

“Dunno…” Casey didn’t get the chance to say anything else as Alyssa, wearing an even wider smile, reached his side.

“Hello, boys. I’m very sorry to bother you, but…” she nodded to Dennis, who hadn’t moved from his spot. “…Me and my fiancé have been walking around the city all day, and need a place to sit to eat. It’s so very crowded--but you have some extra seats. Is it all right if we were to join you?”

The woman was braver than most, posing the question instead of her beau. Casey glanced to Zeke, looking for answers; he was blank-faced, however. It was up to Casey, he supposed. Seeing as it’d look terribly rude, or even suspicious in saying no, he nodded. “Yes, of course,” he said.

“Oh, thank you very much! Dennis, come--let’s sit,” Alyssa said.

If there was ever an example of pure, unbridled apprehension, Dennis was it. Casey half-expected him to turn tail and run for it, but he instead nodded curtly and walked over. It looked as if he’d regained composure as he made a small smile. “Alyssa, darling--they might’ve wanted to have their table to themselves,” he said.

“It’s all right. We’d have looked terribly rude, saying no,” Casey said in a tense voice. Their eyes locked as Dennis sat down, his lips going into a thin white line.

“Well, I’m glad that you’re all giving souls. It’s been a long, hard morning,” Alyssa said, chipper and unsuspecting as you please.

“It’s all right,” Zeke blandly replied.

“My name is Alyssa Tully. It’s nice to meet you,” she said.

“Casey. That’s Zeke, and that’s Noah,” he motioned to each one respectively. “Nice to meet you, as well.”

“Yes, it’s nice to meet good folk.”

The boys nodded and continued sipping, while Dennis coughed into his hand and began unwrapping his sandwich. “Let’s not dawdle, sweetheart. We should eat our lunches and head out for your appointment,” he said.

“Oh, yes.” The girl beamed as she too started unwrapping her meal. While she did so, she said, “I’m getting fitted for my wedding gown.”

“Oh--you’re getting married?” Casey said. She nodded.

“Less than a week from now. I can’t tell you how happy I am,” she said, then put a hand on Dennis’ arm. “I happen to be the luckiest girl in all of New York, having this lovely man to marry.”

‘Sure…’ Casey thought while he fought to keep a warm smile on his face. He wondered what the poor girl would do, finding out that her husband-to-be had a rentboy-addiction. Probably still was, but couldn’t keep that up AND marry his bosses’ daughter for money and a corner office in Boston. “Well, that’s lovely. I wish you both the best,” Casey said. “He’s quite lucky himself, having a beautiful bride such as yourself.”

Alyssa blushed. “What a sweetheart you are. You must have all the girls chasing you.”

A sudden snort came from across the table, belonging to Zeke. He kept his smile on as he shook his head. “Not quite,” he replied.

“You’re just jealous. I have all the lovely ladies banging on our door for me,” Casey coyly replied. He turned back to Alyssa, wearing a cocky grin. “We’re roommates. They can say what they want to; I’ve come close to hiring armed guards, fearing for my well-being with all the girls that come calling.”

The giggling that came from Alyssa was immense. “I’m positive of that, you poor thing.”

“Mmm, it’s just how it goes…”

“Alyssa, you haven’t even touched your lunch,” Dennis interrupted their conversation to say.

“Oh, yes, yes…” Alyssa said.

A few minutes of silence settled in, allowing the couple to eat. As much as Casey wanted to send a few more daggers into Dennis’ side, Zeke had been right; it wasn’t the best idea, fraternizing with a former client, especially one like Dennis. Still, Casey felt his backside twinge, remembering their last night together. It made him both satisfied and annoyed; satisfied, for the way the man had caved into his true, carnal desires for a boy he swore he’d never lay with again. The way he’d came inside of Casey, moaning and snarling, angry at himself for giving in. Annoyed… how dare he have said the things he did--how he went about his life as it was now, getting married to a woman who seemed sweeter than Cal’s truffles. Even if she never found out about Dennis’ ‘boy-habit’, the fact that he was hiding that from an innocent woman to gain status from her father… Casey was angry FOR her.

“Almost done, darling?” Dennis asked Alyssa, his own plate and mug empty.

“A few more bites, yes. My, this sandwich is delicious. I hope Boston has this kind of place to dine in,” she said.

“Moving to Boston?” Zeke asked.

“Mmm, yes. My father is the president of United Bank here in the city, and is opening a new branch in ‘Beantown’; my fiancé is going to be its president. We’re having the wedding out there, in fact. Most of our things have already been sent to our lil‘ ‘love nest‘ already” she said, squeezing Dennis’ hand.

“How you go on…” Dennis said, trying his best to smile. “So willing to bore poor strangers with our business.”

“I know, I know. Ahh…” Alyssa sighed and leaned into the man, holding his arm tight. “Can I help it, how proud I am?”

Casey bit his lip and turned to Noah, who was fixated on his tea. Zeke, too, was staring at his sketchpad instead of making eye-contact with anyone. The idea of this, their sitting next to such a happy couple with what they knew, was stabbing Casey’s gut.

“There, finished now?” Dennis asked.

“Mmhmm. Let me just powder my nose,” Alyssa said. Before anyone could stop her, she stood and straightened her coat. A smile was given to the boys. “Again, it was lovely meeting you. If you’re ever in Boston, perhaps we’ll have another run-in!”

‘I hope not,’ Casey thought, but he covered up the disdain with another smile. “It was a pleasure,” he said.

“Meet me outside, Dennis. I’ll only be a moment,” Alyssa told him, leaving the man with a kiss to the cheek.

“All right,” he replied. Sure enough, he began gathering his things in a haste. With Alyssa disappearing into the crowd, he stood up and went to leave.

“You’re a fucking prick.”

Casey’s ears buzzed as he glanced to Zeke, whose narrowed, angry eyes were set on Dennis; the man stopped and turned back around.

“Oh? A prick, you say?”

Zeke nodded to the empty plates, mugs and napkins on the table. “You’re supposed to bus your own shit, here.”

Dennis cocked an eyebrow and stepped back to the table. He leaned over it and looked at Zeke dead in the eye. “How about you little bastards clean it up, hmm? After all, you’re trash yourselves; you should feel at home with my mess.”

“Oh, how that stings,” Zeke sarcastically replied. “Your opinion of me has always kept me on my toes, hoping beyond hope that you like me.”

“I’ve never liked you. ANY of you,” Dennis said, nodding to each one of them. He stopped at Casey and made an evil grin then continued in a soft murmur, “Perhaps you, for a small while. At least when you were still an overeager virgin, so willing to let a man you didn’t even know fuck you.”

“Mmm. I feel for poor Alyssa…” Casey said, bothered by the man’s disgusting words enough to reply, “… Her wedding night should be one of love and pleasure, but all she’ll get is… you. How very, very sad.”

“Oh, getting uppity, are we? Good god, thank heavens I’ve left your little rat’s nest. To think that I ever dropped by for a quick-fix. But, well, I suppose every man has had their rock-bottom. I’m just so very glad that I‘m climbing out of THAT rut,” Dennis said.

Casey cocked his head to the side. “You know, Dennis… perhaps you’re right. But there’s a problem in your thinking.”

“Yes? And what would that be, pray tell?”

“Every time you get into bed with poor, unsuspecting Alyssa… you’re going to think of us. Perhaps me--little virgin Casey that gave up his first time to you. The one who made you come more times than a man usually does in his entire life,” Casey said, his voice soft and low. The café wasn’t as full of people now, but he kept his next words at a whisper, needing to lean in close to Dennis. He wondered how he smelled, if pheromones were reaching the man’s nostrils. “Because you know what you are? Hmm? You’re a queer of the worst kind--the one who hides it with boys that could be your own. Young flesh for you to bite into. You rutted that rut, and loved it. It’s what you want most, what you WILL want every time she undresses in your bedchamber. I’m very sorry that you’ll die an unhappy man.”

Dennis’ nose twitched as he snarled. “And you, pet… I’m sorry that you will end up dead in a dark alleyway, raped and beaten bloody. That’s the only fate I can foresee for you.” He made a dark-eyed smile as he leaned in even closer, brushing his nose against Casey’s ear as he whispered, “I only hope that I hear about it, all the way out in Boston. Casey, the poor, penniless whore, taken for all he’s worth--which really, your ‘worth’ isn’t much, is it? You’d be bloodying your ass for pennies tonight, if it weren’t for Stephen.”

Casey swallowed and stared ahead, starting to feel sick. He couldn’t deny that what he was saying struck a chord. “Why don’t you leave now? Alyssa will be meeting you outside, she said. And I can barely stand the stench of you.”

“Mmm,” he hummed with satisfaction. “Did I say something amiss?”

“Dennis,” Zeke now chimed in, giving the man his most threatening glare. “If you don’t leave now, perhaps Alyssa would like a story or two?”

This made Dennis stand up straight and look at Zeke, his gaze solid. “She wouldn’t believe you. I assure you of that,” he said. “After all, what would a man like me, someone who has status and credibility--what would he be doing, hanging around a whorehouse?”

“Leave. Now,” Zeke said.

“I’m already gone, young man. Have yourselves a wonderful week,” Dennis said, and with that, he put his coat on and sauntered off to the front of the café, where he met up with a just-returned Alyssa. He put his arm around her, kissed her temple and led them back outside. Casey watched them go, his throat tense.

“He’s nothing but a rat-bastard, Casey. Don’t even think about him,” Zeke said.

“I’m all right,” Casey replied in a voice that said he was anything but all right. Zeke parted his lips, looking concerned; Casey didn’t want to see it, so he stood up and started putting his coat on. “I’m tired. Can we go home?”

Both Noah and Zeke exchanged looks; Noah, not even knowing what was said, took up his own coat. Zeke muttered, “I guess I WILL take care of that trash’s trash,” and collected the used plates, cups and napkins, staying quiet.


~*~


It was as if everyone back at the house could read Casey’s mind, sensing that something was wrong. Even Danny gave him a look of concern when he refused to have wine and cakes with them in the parlor after dinner. “I’m all right. Just sleepy,” Casey had replied before bidding them all goodnight and heading up to the bedrooms. Once there, he sat on the bed and stared at the floor.

Zeke had been right, of course; Dennis’ opinion of him or anyone else in Stephen’s care had no weight. Casey had been right, telling Dennis what he, himself, was worth. Casey’s selling himself was nowhere near as bad as the one who’d BUY him. Who was more powerless: the one using their body to survive, or the letch that preyed on their misfortune? It wasn’t Casey’s fault that the country’s economy had tanked, that his parents had died leaving him with nothing, nothing was his fault. He was simply doing what he had to while trying to find whatever enjoyment he could in it. And he DID enjoy it, to a point. He had the sensitivity of Cal, the guidance of Stephen, the friendship of Noah, the others… Zeke. Even if things went from bad to worse, there were people he could depend on, or at least hang onto hope with. Nevertheless, Dennis had been right. Should he have not been told of this sanctuary, he doubted that he’d have been able to survive, prostitution or no. The only worth he had outside of this place was his art, which nobody wanted. Casey couldn’t blame anyone; who in their right mind, dealing with their own financial crises, would want to buy a piece of art, even for just a nickel or two? Perhaps if he was a carpenter, or had a mind for business, he would’ve been better off. But no; Casey was a lowly starving artist, resorting to… this, all so he could survive. He didn’t know if it was okay or if he was just making excuses. Either way, there were a lot of things that were very, very unfair.

Just as he thought he was, indeed, about to fall asleep, a knock came on the door. He sighed and called, “Come in,” then winced, thinking it could’ve been Noah. But Zeke was there instead, opening the door and looking in.

“You all right?” he asked.

Casey frowned. “Why’d you knock?”

“Just… courtesy, I guess.” Zeke walked in and shut the door behind him, then went to his bed. He didn’t stay there, only going to grab his lighter to fix up a smoke. Once it was lit, he turned back to Casey and looked at him through slits of eyes. “You’re not letting what that jackass said get to you, are you?”

Casey wanted to say no, but he stayed mute. He shrugged instead, eliciting a sigh from Zeke. The older boy went over to Casey’s bed, sat on the edge and turned to him. “Y’know how I’d dealt with Ike… he never said those kinds of things, but he’d get loose-lipped, talking about how ‘great’ he was with boys needing a helping hand. He made sure that I knew what a charity case I was--how I’d never make it without someone like him throwing me a bone,” he said.

“A bit different than someone telling you that they’d be pleased, knowing you were raped and killed in an alley,” Casey softly replied.

“Maybe. But Dennis didn’t slam a door on your fingers.”

Casey groaned and moved onto his back; he snatched the cigarette from Zeke and took a long, slow drag. “Yea, I’m letting it bother me. I have the right to be bothered. I’m sitting here, in a whorehouse, all to sell my ‘wares’.”

“Yea…? Just figure that out?” Zeke said.

“No. I’ve known.”

“Good. So why are you worrying about it now? Because an old, dirty bastard decided to throw it in your face? Yea, he says shit. He thinks he’s got it all figured out. But the only reason he said what he did was because you said what YOU did… and it had a lot more truth and merit to it,” Zeke said.

“So?”

“So, he was pissed. Yea, you’re a whore. I know that, you know that, he knows that, Cal… well, he SHOULD know that, even if he pretends you‘re his bride-to-be…”

This made Casey make one, lone giggle and nudge Zeke’s side with his knee. “Stop taking pot-shots at him.”

“ANY-way…” Zeke said, smiling for a moment before it was sighed away. “Dennis was pissed because he knows it. He knows what he’s like and WHAT he likes. And what he is is queer, and what he likes is putting his dick in a boy.”

“Yea. Great. If Alyssa found out, it’d destroy her. You saw her; she’s smitten like a kitten with Dennis,” Casey said.

“Not your fault. It’s Dennis’. He’s telling her and her high-powered banker-father lies. You play no part in that.”

“But--”

“No. Stop. Stop right there.” Zeke put a hand on Casey’s arm and gave him a hard look. It stilled Casey into silence, letting Zeke go on. “I tease Cal, right? But I don’t blame him. He IS queer, even if he’d tried covering it up with some sham of a marriage. But he likes you, I can tell. And he’s got reason to. If Dennis wants to be a prick to you, let him. He’s probably just so fucking frustrated that he CAN’T take you home with him to fuck when he wants to.”

Casey made a solemn nod; he appreciated what Zeke was saying, but he was still taking issue with what had been said. A yawn made his chest tense, making him cover his mouth and stretch. “I really am… tired,” he said.

“’K. Go to sleep, then. I’ll get outta here, head back downstairs.” Zeke made to leave, but Casey frowned and put a hand on his elbow.

“Can you stay? Just until… until I nod off?”

Zeke paused a moment, then made a slow nod. Casey nodded back and closed his eyes, searching for comfort and solace in his fluffy pillow, rubbing his cheek against it. All was quiet in the room, Zeke staying still on the bed as Casey began drifting off. Before he could leave the world, he felt fingers brushing his forehead, gently moving his hair from it. All cares and worries started slipping away in Zeke’s touch alone; fingertips swept over the side of Casey’s face to his temple where more hair was pushed around his ear. Over and over this went on, until Casey took the first train to dreamland, the soft beating of his heart serving as a lullaby.


~*~


Nothing that had happened the day before seemed to matter anymore. Casey whistled a light tune as he dressed, ready for the day--starting with a delicious breakfast, of course. The smell of lovely, wonderful food coming from downstairs when he’d gone to shower had perked him up completely, making him rush to get ready. In going down the hall, wet hair tousled and robe feeling delightfully warm, he’d passed a tired-looking Danny. Casey’s rousing, “Good morning!” had made the boy wince and push the side of Casey’s face as he passed. The retching noises from the bathroom made Casey snort, and glad that he hadn’t joined the others for a night of wine and raucous behavior.

The plates of food were already out on the table when Casey arrived; Noah, Zeke and James were the only ones there. “Where’s everyone else?” Casey asked as he sat next to Noah, who was eating his plate of sausages and waffles with greed.

“Ah, well…” James chuckled. “I’m sure Stephen will be heading upstairs with pots and pans to ‘help’ them wake up.”

“Ah…” Casey said, chuckling. “Got a little wild last night, huh?”

Zeke sipped his coffee and shook his head slowly. “Stephen’s gonna shit when he sees the empties. God…”

Just as Casey was filling his plate with goodies, Stephen walked in with a smile. “Good morning, boys,” he said. Muffled replies were given; the man sighed and clapped his hands together. “I see that you all had a lovely night, judging by the mess in the parlor.”

“Not I,” Zeke said.

“I went to bed early,” Casey said, batting his lashes at Stephen and wearing an innocent smile.

“Oh, I know. As did Noah, and… James?”

James swallowed and looked up. “I barely touched anything! I’m sittin’ here fully-dressed, eatin’, ain’t I?”

Stephen smiled wryly, sighed and walked to the door leading into the kitchens. “Helen? Might you get me a pan and the heaviest wooden spoon we have?”

Everyone in the room made stifled giggles as Helen arrived with the requests, smiling wide as well. “Now Stevie, go easy on ‘em,” she said.

“Like hell, darling. Be right back,” he said. With the items in hand, he tapped the pan lightly as he looked around the room. “Good boys. Eat up, enjoy.”

Moments later, the four of them began chuckling harder in being able to hear the chaos two floors up.


~*~


“Now that…” Zeke turned to the side; pointing his cigarette towards his image in the mirror, he grinned. “Is the true definition of gorgeous.”

Casey snorted and rolled his eyes. Even if Zeke looked stunning in his new shirt--a gorgeous dark blue tight long-sleeved, teasing was in order. “No, you pompous ass. THIS, is hot,” he said, motioning his hands over the outfit he wore; an all-black number, the top few buttons of his shirt undone.

“Pish.”

“Pish nothing. I am searing hot, and you know it.”

“Well sure I do. But I’m a few degrees higher,” Zeke replied.

“Uh huh. If I put my tongue on you right now, I’d get stuck like you’re a flagpole in winter.”

This caused Zeke to explode with laughter. “Um, what??” he managed to say through the hilarity.

“Yea. You’re cold, baby, collld,” Casey drawled. Zeke cocked an eyebrow his way.

“Really, now? Well, come here and test your hypothesis,” he said. Casey chuckled as Zeke motioned to him with a wagging finger.

“Oh, no. No, no. We’re already supposed to be downstairs--”

“We got a minute.”

“You’re such a--” Casey went to say, but Zeke lunged forward, grabbed him by the arm and pulled Casey smack-dab into his chest. The boy oofed and giggled at the same time. “Zeke!!”

“Such a what?” Zeke asked; his eyes were narrowed with the smile he wore. The way he was leaning in, putting their faces close together--nose, lips, teeth, tongue, mere inches--made Casey’s giggling go light and nervous.

“Zeke… we need to be good. Be good.”

“Maybe I don’t wanna be for a minute or two.” Zeke smiled even wider and brushed their noses together.

“You’re never good,” Casey said. His voice was a whisper; Zeke’s hands were sliding around to the small of his back, spreading his fingers over it with an air of possession--

The knock on the door stopped everything. They jumped a few feet away from each other, looking both amused and nervous. “Um, yea?” Zeke called.

It was Henry opening the door; he looked tired and annoyed as he entered. Before Casey could ask what he was there for, he saw a bouquet of roses in his hand. “Oh, Henry. You shouldn’t have--”

“Not from me, you dolt,” Henry said; he thrust them Casey’s way and finally made a wry smile. “Probably from your loser boyfriend.”

Though there was a flutter of delight in Casey’s heart, the quick glance he took of Zeke doused it like water to flame. Casey cleared his throat, stepped forward and took them. “Um, thank you, Henry,” he said.

“And you’re running late. Hurry your shit up, doors open in five,” he said before leaving the room again. They could hear him muttering things before the door closed, having to do with ‘not a fuckin’ messenger boy’ and ‘don’t pay me enough…’ Casey chuckled a little and tried keeping his smile on as he turned to Zeke, tapping the flowers in the air.

“More of this, then, eh?” he said.

“Yea,” Zeke said, his tone sounding just as bored and annoyed as Henry’s. He nodded to the card attached as he went to the door. “Open it. Get your jollies off of that idiot’s ‘undying devotion’.”

Casey stood very still as Zeke left him, shutting the door behind him. Blinking wildly, he looked down at the envelope tied around the stems. Casey sighed as he sat down, put the flowers on his lap and plucked the note from them. The top was torn and he reached in, finding a small card decorated with gold leaf and a message: Good luck tonight, darling. I’ll miss you. Casey made a fond smile and stared at it a moment.

Cal cared for him, a lot. In a way, Casey felt bad--being with Zeke as he was, even if they weren’t ‘lovers’, was a betrayal. In a way. ‘He HAD been married when he’d come here, even before I showed up,’ Casey thought. Still, there he was, holding beautiful tokens of love from a man that shouldn’t have bothered. ‘I’m a whore, Cal,’ Casey sadly thought as he placed the roses in his water jug. ‘Just like Dennis said…’

“CA-sey, hurry UP!”

Danny’s impatient yell made Casey sigh, turn to the door and head down, where he’d be doing the usual. It was Monday; a slow night for them. Casey was thankful for that.


~*~


The sip of champagne Casey took was in stark contrast of the atmosphere, here in the main parlor. While the drink was nectar-sweet and bubbly-excitement, the room was devoid of anything interesting. Most of the customers tonight were ones Casey didn’t know, but Jamie was entertaining two of them with a friendliness that showed that they’d been here before. Clark was here--with James, of course. Xavier and one of the Johns were playing an intense game of poker, Danny at Xavier’s side wearing the fakest smile he could ever put on. Casey grinned and stretched his legs out on the sofa, feeling listless. It didn’t seem as if he was in demand tonight. ‘Good,’ he thought, hoping he’d stay right there, sipping his drink and daydreaming, about anything.

Noah wandered away from the bar and approached, carrying his own champagne. He motioned for Casey to move his legs; the boy grunted and complied to let Noah sit. With a loud sigh, Noah plunked himself down and took a long, deep sip from his flute. He tapped it in the air and smirked at Casey. “Mmm,” he hummed in a throaty groan.

“Mmhmm,” Casey hummed back; though Noah couldn’t hear it, it was obvious that Casey was enjoying himself with the big smile he wore. They clinked glasses and sat back, bored but content. Before Casey could finish his drink to use both hands to converse, he looked to the door and frowned. “Oh god,” he said upon seeing Bruce walking in. He took a glance to Noah, who’d also seen him and was wearing an expression of his feelings about the man. Sure enough, Bruce scanned the room and settled his sights on the couch--Noah visibly swallowed and looked down on his drink as Bruce smiled and began walking over. Casey flicked his eyes back and forth between them; it was too obvious that Noah did not want to deal with the unnatural, creepy kinks this man possessed. Figuring that he’d done enough lazing about--and that Noah was one of his best friends who’d gone to many lengths to make him comfortable--Casey sat up, puffed his chest out and smiled at Bruce. “Hello, Brucie,” he said.

Bruce glanced his way, sniffed and looked at Noah. “C’mon, you. Room.”

He wasn’t wasting any time tonight. Since Noah’s eyes were focused on the flute, Casey cleared his throat and stood up. “Noah’s… he’s not feeling that great tonight--”

“He’s here, ain’t ‘e?” Bruce retorted, almost angrily. He then reached down to take Noah’s wrist; though he didn’t jerk him up or get too rough, it startled Noah enough to make his grip on the glass slip. “C’mon. Wanna try somethin’ new tonight.”

A swallow rolled down Noah’s throat but he got the message; he gave Casey a weak smile and stood, while Casey signed, ‘I tried.’ Noah smiled wider and made a tiny shrug as he was led off to the main door where Stephen stood. The usual transaction was made, leaving Casey alone again--for a mere moment, as suddenly, the John that had been playing with Xavier sauntered over, his leering telling.

“Hey, lil’ thing,” he said. He flashed the green he’d won off of the gaming. “Got enough for a room. And you--you look worth it.”

Casey sighed and finished his drink; setting it down on the table by the couch, he put on his best coy act; hands held behind him, small bobs of his feet, an innocent smile… “I am,” he said, cooing the words.

“Mmm.” John hummed in guttural satisfaction as he slipped an arm around Casey’s shoulders and walked them to the door.


~*~


“That was quick.”

Zeke’s comment upon Casey’s return, a whole thirty-three minutes after he’d gone upstairs with John, made him smile wryly. He turned to Robert and said, “Vanilla soda, please, Robert.”

The man nodded and went to prepare the request, while Zeke’s smirk grew. “Lemmee guess… he barely got his slacks off before he GOT off,” he said.

“You win… an olive,” Casey said, plucking one from the dish and presenting it to Zeke. With a smile that narrowed the boy’s eyes, Zeke leaned in, wrapped his lips around the fruit quick and bent back, chewing it. Casey, glad to have the awkwardness from the flowers-incident over, sat in the stool next to Zeke and shook his head. “All I needed was the bidet. One pull of the chain and I’m good to go.”

Chuckling, Zeke swallowed the olive, took a sip of his soda-water and smacked his lips. “He used to want to be topped, and ONLY topped. I guess he’s trying to ’assert himself’, though… well, he’s not very assertive, is he?”

“Not a lick.” Casey went to continue on in teasing the poor man when a sudden tug was made on his shirt sleeve. He turned to find Noah, wide-eyed and looking shocked. The sight made Casey sit up straighter and turn to him. ’What? What is it?’

The boy pulled Casey’s arm, making Casey stand up and follow him over to Stephen, who was talking to Bruce; the man was shrugging and shaking his head. “Well, he can’t talk, so… you’ll hafta take my word on it that everythin’ was as it always is…” Bruce told Stephen just as Noah and Casey reached them; the man turned away from Bruce when Noah tugged his jacket sleeve next.

“Noah, please… can you tell me what went wrong?” he asked.

“He can’t,” Bruce said through gritted teeth, obviously frustrated and… worried? Casey, worried himself, watched every frantic movement of Noah’s hands.

“What’s he saying, Casey?” Stephen asked.

“He can’t--”

“He… had hid a… bullet in his jacket pocket…” Casey said, the words sliding from his lips feeling like acid.

“That’s not true! I don’t… I can’t, I KNOW the rules!” Bruce declared, loud enough for the room to hear. Everyone’s attentions turned their way as Casey signed back.

‘Where’s the bullet?’

‘In his pocket, his back pocket, on the right!’

“What’re they… wh-what’re they say--”

“The bullet is in his back pocket, Stephen--the right one,” Casey said, his face feeling hot.

Stephen’s usual calm, sweet expression disappeared, replaced with red-faced fury. Before Bruce could try and slip away, Sam and Oscar were waved over by Stephen. The two burly men stepped from the wall and stood directly behind Bruce, who was starting to look very, very small. “His right back pocket,” Stephen told them; Oscar, on Bruce’s right side, immediately grabbed at the man’s belt, stuck his hand into the pocket and drew out the small but lethal object from it. Danny chose this moment to wander over, brow creased with curiosity.

“What’s… oh. Oh, god…” he said.

Casey sniffed hard as he looked at Noah, who was trembling from head-to-toe. He slipped his arm around him and moved him back and away from the men. ‘Come on… you need to sit down,’ he told him. The boy said nothing back, choosing to fold his arms tight around himself as they went to an unoccupied couch. From there, they got to watch Stephen leaning in close to Bruce, saying things they couldn’t hear. They didn’t need to; Bruce’s frantic nodding and darting eyes said it all. After a few tense moments, both Sam and Oscar placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulders and led him to the exit, disappearing behind the wall. Casey heard the door creak open, then close. Neither Sam nor Oscar returned.

“Shit…” Danny said as he walked over, eyes on the door. “He’s in trouble.”

“Are they going to… ‘punish him’?” Casey asked.

“Don’t think so, not--like that, but he’s gonna get the message, loud and clear.” Danny bit his lip and finally turned to them. “Is he… okay?”

Casey sighed and squeezed Noah’s shoulder tighter. “Hey,” Casey said, rather than signed. Noah finally unhinged his elbows and put his hands out to sign.

‘He kept telling me… he wanted to put it in the gun and put… it in me,’ he replied. While Casey swallowed and his lips trembled, Danny looked between them as if a tennis match was playing out before him. Noah swiped a hand over his sweaty brow and continued. ‘I had to kick him away--when I ran to the door, he put the bullet in his pocket and tried getting me to stay, but…’

‘It’s okay. YOU’RE okay,’ Casey told him.

‘I know. I’m just a little shaken-up.’

Stephen now arrived, pursing his lips and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Is he all right, Casey?” he asked.

“Yea… and no. He’s pretty… spooked,” Casey replied.

“As well he should be. Can you tell him that we’re so sorry that we didn’t check him well enough? He’s never pulled this before, but…” Stephen took a deep breath and ran his hand over his hair. “Let him know that he can be done for the night, if he wishes. I won’t be making him work if he’s too upset.”

Casey nodded and relayed Stephen’s message. Noah made a weak smile, paused, then nodded. After standing up on shaky legs, he smiled at Stephen and signed, ‘Thank you,’ which Casey also translated. Stephen smiled and took the boy into a small, one-armed hug.

“You rest up, Noah,” he said. “Get some ‘alone-time’.”

Noah hadn’t needed to hear him. Casey stood up and followed Noah to the door, where he signed, ‘Meet you later. Want me to come by and check on you when I can?’ He was glad to see Noah’s smile widen.

‘I’ll be all right. But sure,’ he replied.

Casey smiled, gave him a warm hug and let him go with a sigh. He stayed at the door to watch him leave, until the boy disappeared past the next flight of stairs. With a groan, he returned to the bar where Zeke still sat, a look of confusion on his face.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Petie happened.” Casey gave Zeke a meaningful look. “He brought a friend with him tonight, ‘Mr. Bullet’.”

Zeke clenched his jaw and sat up straighter. “He fuckin’ didn’t.”

“Did.”

“Well. He won’t be coming back again--good fuckin’ riddance,” Zeke said. After a hard swig, he asked, “Is Noah all right?”

“Yea, yea. He’s gonna take the rest of the night off. A bit spooked, of course.”

“Yea, I’d be.”

It was then that Sam and Oscar returned, no bloody knuckles or weapons on or in their hands. As angry as Casey was, and as much as he believed that horrid ‘man’ needed a few boots to the teeth, he was secretly pleased that no violence had happened tonight. They didn’t need any attention. Sam stopped before getting past the parlor to go back to the door. “I guess someone’s just showed up,” Casey said.

“Goody,” Zeke said.

“STEPHEN! How long’s it hic! been?”

The loud, obviously-intoxicated British voice quirked one of Casey’s eyebrows. “An old friend?” he asked no one in particular; when he turned to Zeke, he found that the older boy had paled considerably, eyes set on the door. “What?”

Zeke didn’t reply. He kept staring, until finally a small stout man emerged. His cheeks were rosy-pink, hat covering a bald head. Give him a red suit and a white beard and he’d have made a good Santa, in Casey’s opinion. “Who is that?” Casey asked Zeke, who still looked dumbstruck. “Zeke?”

“Hah, it’s been a VERY long time, Felix. How are you?” Stephen cheerfully greeted the man, shaking hands with him.

“’Been hittin’ a few pubs, until I remembered the best in town,” this ‘Felix’ replied. Casey’s brow furrowed in concentration… Felix. Felix…

“Shit,” Zeke said in a shaky, nervous voice as he turned his head away. He fidgeted with his glass, knees jerking up and down. When Casey saw the state of his hands, their trembling, he swallowed and tried getting in Zeke’s view.

“Zeke? Felix, the name sounds familiar--”

“Don’t remember, huh?” Zeke interrupted. He grit his teeth, hard, then turned back to Casey and in a hushed but gritty voice said, “The one who made me beat on Marty. Remember now?”

Casey’s jaw dropped as he looked back to the supposed cheery, kind-looking man. It didn’t seem to fit; someone with the dark desires Felix had subjected Zeke and Marty to needed to be missing teeth, have most of the remaining ones blacked out. He needed to look scraggly and dirty, as if he’d rolled around in pig manure for days. But no, Felix had the aura of a man who’d just won ‘Grandfather of the Year’. Drunk Grandfather of the Year, but nonetheless… “Doesn’t Stephen--know?”

“About what really went on? No. I covered for him, remember? Christ, here I thought you actually LISTENED when I fuckin’ talked,” Zeke said, his voice dripping with venom. It made Casey blink profusely and want to leave--head upstairs, take refuge with Noah for the rest of the night…

“Oh, yes. He is,” Stephen now said; Casey looked over, finding Stephen waving their way. Felix beamed, gave Stephen a clap to the shoulder and wandered over. It was obvious as to whom the man was targeting--his ‘old friend’, Zeke. Casey bit his lower lip as the man now stood at Zeke’s opposite side.

“Zeke. It’s been quite a long, lo-hic!-ng time,” he said.

“Yea. ‘Has, hasn’t it,” Zeke muttered.

“Hah! Has.” Felix now turned to Robert and drew out a five. “You kin make change, a’right?”

Robert, looking skeptical, nodded. “Yes. But perhaps we’ll keep you to a one-drink maximum tonight?”

“Hah! I can hold m’liquor just fine. YOU should know that, friend,” Felix told him with a gleaming, toothy grin. “My usual--remember it?”

“A Tommy, coming right up.”

“Good man! Good man,” Felix said. He slapped the bill down, sighed and went to continue talking with Zeke, but stopped when he saw Casey. He blinked with what one might call wild-wonder and grinned even wider. “Now ‘o’s this little piece o’ penny-candy, eh?”

“Casey. He’s new,” Zeke quickly replied.

“How d’ya keep your hands offa him, eh? Hah!” Felix chuckled heartily and smiled sweetly to Casey. “An’ how’s it you’re not being besen--besiegered--whatever, by everyone else ‘ere?”

Blinking and biting his lower lip, Casey shrugged. “It’s… not all that busy.”

“Is now that I’M here!” Felix practically announced to everyone there. He leaned in past Zeke to get even closer to Casey, letting the boy smell the alcohol on his breath. “Whatta ya want, toots? It’s on me.”

“One, we get one drink for free, and two, we get one drink, which he’s already had. Those are the rules,” Zeke said.

Felix continued chuckling; when Robert slid his drink over to him, Felix pointed to the five. “Keep the change, Robby,” he said. Casey frowned; the drink he’d gotten was barely half a dollar. Robert, still looking unsure, simply nodded and took the money, not saying another word. “Well now. Let’s not fuck-about, then.”

“Isn’t that the point of coming here?”

Zeke’s dry reply made the man laugh even louder. “Oh, you ‘aven’t changed a bit! Still so sulky and to-the-hic!-point. I always loved that about you. So…” Felix took the glass, tipped it and took the alcohol in one large swig. Finished, he put it back down on the bar and stood straight, pulling his pants up over his wide hips. “Shall we?”

“Felix!”

The sudden cheer from behind made Casey jump. Danny, looking as happy as a child on his birthday, was slinging an arm over Felix’s shoulders and pulling him in, all to give him a hard kiss on the cheek. Felix ‘ho-ho’ed. “My, you haven’t changed either, Danneh-boy!”

“Hmm, nope! So, what’re you doing, hanging around with these losers?”

“Danny.” Zeke’s tone was full of tension; it made Danny stop and look to him. Zeke shook his head and sipped the last of his drink. “It’s okay. All right? It really is.”

“What’s ‘kay?” Felix asked, belching.

“Zeke… you sure?” Danny asked. He next looked to Casey; the boy had never looked so damned serious before. It melted away, letting the boy smile wide and lean into Felix again. “Don’t tell me you want HIM,” he said, nodding to Casey. “Lemmee tell you, he’s a lousy lay. Me, on the other hand--”

“But he’s so pretty!” Felix said. He smiled Casey’s way; Danny scoffed.

“And I’m not??”

“Danny, just shut the fuck up,” Zeke said in an angry spit. He stood up and rolled his eyes. “Where to, Felix?”

“Best room, where else?” he replied, more belches decorating his speech.

All Casey could do was stare at both Zeke and Felix, realizing what was going on. He couldn’t move, until Felix walked away to talk with Stephen and Zeke turned to look at him. He gripped the bar with both hands, knuckles white. “No matter what he says, what he offers--no. You got that?”

Blinking wildly, Casey took a glance to the money changing hands at the door then back to Zeke. “Yea. Of course,” he feebly replied.

Zeke nodded curtly, stared at the rows of glasses a moment then unclenched his fingers to stand straight. “Let’s go,” he said, heading to the door without waiting for Casey. Starting to feel an elated sort of terror, he finally willed his legs to walk and follow Zeke and Felix out of the parlor, up the stairs… down the hall… Felix was wobbly, muttering things under his breath through hiccups and chuckles. He could barely get the key in the door; Zeke sniffed hard and stepped forth to help, but Felix finally found his bearings enough to get it unlocked. He opened the door and stepped aside to let them in. “Boys first,” he said, still chuckling like an idiot.

Casey followed Zeke in, staring at the plush rug. This was where he’d gone with Dennis that first time, then Cal… the sound of the door shutting closed hadn’t been that loud before, however. The light was flicked on and Felix clapped his hands together. “We gots two whole hours to play hic! with, so--”

“We’re getting one thing straight, Felix.”

Zeke’s voice was full of warning, but Felix’s smile stayed on. “Yes, Zeke?”

“Marty was willing to take your money. I never liked the idea, but I went along with it for whatever fucked-up reason…”

“Watch that tone, sweetie pie; no need to be so angry--”

“Casey won’t be taking any ‘extras’ himself. So if you think I’m going to beat him bloody, think again.”

Felix sighed and pulled a flask from his jacket pocket. As he took a few swigs, Casey furrowed his brow and looked to Zeke, who seemed to be avoiding eye contact with him at all costs. The man then plopped down in a heap upon the chair against the wall. “Zeke… you DO know hic! that what happened wasn’t any’n’s fault… right?”

“Doesn’t matter. If you came here to watch me smack someone around, you may as well go back downstairs and get your money back. I’m not… repeat, not hurting him. Throw all the cash you want at me, it won’t work,” Zeke said.

Regarding Zeke with a drunk but careful gaze, Felix cocked an eyebrow. “We kin have fun n’other ways, I spos’. LOTSA ways we kin do.”

Zeke finally looked to Casey, his expression unreadable. They exchanged meaningful looks before Zeke sighed and relaxed--a little. “All right. What?”

“Hmm…” Felix put his head back against the wall, making his hat tip past his eyes. A long pause followed, Felix hiccupping through his thinking. “How about… Casey’s… he’s bin a bad, bad boy… and Daddy needs t’teach ‘im a lesson.”

Something jerked in Casey’s chest, tightening it. Zeke didn’t pause in saying, “No dads, okay? That’s something… he can’t do.”

“Why not?”

“He just can’t.”

Casey expected Felix’s calm, giggly demeanor to disappear, but he only smiled wider. “Issues, issues. Hic! fine… let’s…” Felix paused yet again; this time, his hand sneaked into his lap and began rubbing between his legs. “Yea. Yea, do that.”

“Do what, Felix?” Zeke asked in a dry tone.

“Teacher. Yer his teacher, and yer real mad. REAL mad, cos’ Casey was caught cheatin’ on a test,” Felix said. “He gets ‘is ‘tention with you.”

Zeke took a deep breath and turned to Casey. With a shrug, he motioned for Casey to sit on the bed. When all Casey did was frown his way, Zeke’s eyes went dark. “SIT, Casey. We need to talk.”

“Oh, yea,” Felix said as Casey followed the instruction. “Tell ‘im… tell ‘im that ‘e’s the worst student you ever had…”

“You’re the worst student I’ve ever had. I…” Zeke paused, his lips pursed as he fought back his frustration. Casey stared up at him, wanting--needing direction. This wasn’t sensual or erotic, but silly. Not exactly the first fantasy that sprang to mind when he thought of his and Zeke’s first ‘double-purchase’. “…I saw you sneaking peeks to… Danny’s test papers.”

“Danny?” Casey had to blurt; out of everyone, Zeke chose him as his ‘star-student’? Before he could laugh out loud, Zeke leaned down quick to get in his face.

“Yes, Danny! The smartest boy in school--” Zeke himself cracked a smile, but he recovered to continue. “--And you thought you could pull that off, cheating like you did? You little rat. It’s time you got a lesson you’ll never, ever forget.”

“TEACH ‘im, oh yeeeea…”

Both Casey and Zeke’s expressions drooped, but Casey cleared his throat and opened his legs. “Whatever lesson could THAT be, Mister… Biggs?”

Zeke frowned. “Biggs?” he whispered in a hiss.

“My freshman year in high school, chemistry, it was all I could think--”

“Mr. Biggs, you teach hic! that lil’ rat!” Felix whooped. He needed to stop ‘narrating’, or this was never going to get done. Before Zeke could try to say anything more, Felix said, “Spank that cute lil’ ass hic!”

Zeke groaned, closed his eyes and stood. “Okay, wait…”

“Jes’ spankin’, it ain’t hurtin’ him!”

Casey shrugged as if to say, ‘Whatever, go ahead.’ Seeing that as his cue, Zeke sat on the bed and pulled Casey over to him. Casey gasped as he was thrown over Zeke’s lap. “No! Mr. Biggs, please, don’t hurt me!” he said.

“I’m sorry, Casey, but this is going to hurt me more than it’ll hurt you,” Zeke said before he pressed his hand over the back of Casey’s neck, raised his hand and let it down on Casey’s backside in a solid smack. As Casey jerked, legs flying up and neck straining against Zeke’s hold, Felix groaned with satisfaction.

“Mmm. Smack ‘im. Smack the lil’ prick,” Felix said.

“This! Will! Teach! You! Not! To cheat!” Zeke said, punctuating each word with a slap. Feeling ridiculous, Casey tried to coo with both horror and pleasure, but when he caught a glance of Zeke’s face, red and straining, he snorted. Zeke furrowed his brow and slapped more, saying, “Don’t! You! Laugh! At! Me!”

As if THAT helped. Casey outright giggled now, unable to hold back. Felix clucked his tongue. “Ah, the bitch thinks his cheatin’s funneh, hic!, eh? You show ‘im, Mr Big-Dick!”

Casey was sobbing now--the laughter he was holding in his chest hurt. Zeke stopped everything and grunted in frustration. “Felix, this… this ain’t working,” he said.

“Why’t?”

“Because, it’s ridiculous. Think… think of something else, I don’t care what it is.”

Again, the man went into deep thought, accompanied by a hum. After a few more sips of his flask, he snapped his fingers… or rather, let them slip haphazardly together and fall back in his lap, where they curled around his clothed cock. “Casey… ‘e’s half boy, half-rabbit…”

“What??” Zeke, aghast, said.

“Yea. Was a great show, in Japan. Bawdy boys dressed like aminals. Mmm…” Felix made a drowsy smile. “You’re the hunter, and hic! s’pretteh, you catch ‘im, and you can’t help but fuck his furry ass.”

Casey’s jaw dropped slowly. Zeke hissed a few frustrated breaths through his nose. “Felix. Seriously. What the hell?”

“NO!” Felix yelled, so loud that Casey jumped in Zeke’s lap. Felix widened and closed his eyes, over and over again, until he said, “Casey’s a whore!”

Casey and Zeke exchanged looks again; Casey cleared his throat and fought back to a sit. “And…?” he said. It was Zeke’s turn to snort in amusement.

“An’ Zeke, he’s yer pimp… and you’ve bin stealin’ his money…” Felix said. After smacking his lips like he’d had the best steak ever, he sank into his seat and twirled a finger in the air. “So he… y’know.”

“No. We don’t,” Zeke said.

“Ye rough ‘im up, give him somefin hic! to remember…” Felix blinked and quirked an eyebrow. “I’ll really, really pay ye extras…?”

“No. Next?” Zeke stated definitively.

Once again, Felix took a sip and drifted off. Casey, feeling impatient and disappointed, glanced to Zeke. “This… it’s…” he whispered.

“Shut up, I know.”

Seeing that Felix didn’t seem to notice their talking to each other, still humming away, Casey leaned in closer. “Why don’t we--I dunno, help him? I mean, what could we do that doesn’t involve me getting strangled with my own entrails or some shit?”

This made Zeke chuckle, but he quickly doused his amusement and shrugged. “I dunno what the hell he wants, besides you lying in a pool of your own blood.”

“Or being a bunny.”

“Oh Christ, shut up.”

Casey shook with giggles. “I’m a bad bunny, Zeke,” he whispered. “So, so bad. I ate your lettuce and hay again, didn’t I?”

“What part about ‘shut up’ don’t you understand?” Zeke said, but his giggling returned.

“But lookit me, I’m so fluffy and cuddly and…” Casey went to say, but stopped when they heard a loud clunk. Looking over, Casey saw the flask, emptied, sitting on the floor by one of the chair legs. Above it was Felix’s hand, open and uncaring to the disappearance of his ‘best friend’. “Um… Felix?” Casey said.

Nothing. Casey frowned and stood up slowly, trying hard to keep quiet. He padded over and leaned down to Felix’s face for a better look. Sure enough, the man’s eyes were closed, his mouth hanging open to take deep, light-crackling breaths. “He… fell asleep,” he hissed back to Zeke.

“Huh?”

Casey nodded and stood to point at Felix. “Look. He’s out like a light.”

“Huh?” Zeke said again, now standing up to survey the situation. Once he got an eyeful of the drunken, sleepy man, he stood straight and creased his brow. “The fuck?”

Casey chuckled under his breath. “All that action tired him out, I guess.”

“WHAT action? I spanked you, like, three times?”

“Oh, more than that. My ass smarts, it does. And never mind the visuals of me, running around with a fluffy white tail and huge pink ears…”

Zeke shook, stilled, then let out what would have been whoops of laughter in suppressed hisses. “Jesus fucking Christ, he wanted that!”

“I know. Just wait ‘til Danny hears THAT one.”

“Oh, fuck no. That’s our little secret. I don’t care how funny it is.”

“Aw, c’mon--”

“Okay, do you really, really want Danny running around, pretending you’re a bunny? He’ll be sticking carrots up your ass in your sleep for weeks.”

Casey thought about it a moment, then smiled. “Yea, point taken.”

“Mmhmm.” Zeke sighed, stretched and looked at the clock on the wall. “We’ve been here about five fucking minutes outta one-hundred and twenty.”

Biting his lip, Casey shrugged. “I guess we should hoist him up and bring him downstairs, then. Poor sap…”

“Mmm… no,” Zeke said.

“But…?” Casey watched Zeke meander back to the bed, flop down upon it with his head in the pillows and extract his cigarettes from his pocket. One was taken out and lit; Casey smiled and joined him, sitting on the edge next to him. “Really, Zeke… if he wakes up two hours from now and realizes--”

“We tell him that we were fucking ourselves blind when he dropped off. Believe me, he won’t remember a damned thing,” Zeke said. “So c’mon. Light one, take a breather.”

Unable to resist, Casey gave in, took the cigarette Zeke now held out to him and lay down next to him, making the boy scoot over the rumpled blankets to give him room. With both smokes lit, they took slow drags, enjoying the silence; thank god Felix didn’t snore. Zeke put a hand behind his head, his elbow bumping into Casey’s ear. “Hey, watch it,” Casey said.

“Shush,” Zeke said. His other hand patted his stomach lightly, the cigarette held between his lips. “Y’know…” he said in a muffled voice. “You might look cute in a bunny suit.”

“Oh, YOU shut up.”

“But you might. We should try that sometime. The guys would probably kill to see you like that… the tail, ears… twitching whiskers…”

Casey rolled his eyes. “Shut up, now, or I’m telling everyone that you played my chemistry teacher.”

“Was he gorgeous?” Zeke asked. When Casey made a sly grin and nodded, Zeke smirked back. “Then what’s the issue?”

“Christ,” Casey said. He stared up at the ceiling, making patterns out of the shadows and light coming from the streetlights outside, mixing with the orange glow of the lamps. Even with the strange happenings, with Felix slumped in a chair a few feet away, he’d never felt so relaxed. They could do this for almost two hours.

“Casey?”

“Hmm?”

“Pass the ashtray?” Zeke asked. Casey nodded and got on his side to reach for the tray. As he stretched his fingers out, he felt fingers, on his back. Casey froze a moment; he could hear Zeke’s breathing, coming out in soft, halted gasps.

Two hours. Casey, trembling, finally snagged the ashtray, pulled it with him and put it on his chest. He looked to Zeke, who was staring back at him. The cigarette hissed as it was snuffed out; Casey barely felt his cigarette being taken from his fingers and put out like Zeke’s. All he could do was watch as Zeke put the object on the table on his side of the bed, watch him return then feel their lips coming together in a warm, sweet suck.

Lost--Casey was utterly, completely lost right now. His fingers trembled at his side until he finally dared to lift his hand and put it on Zeke’s arm, urging him on. This was wrong--very wrong. They had a customer with them, who’d paid a lot of money to watch the ‘fun’. He was sleeping out his drunken stupor, and they were being very, very inconsiderate… but with the way Zeke’s breathing washed over Casey’s cheek, how he was gripping the waist of Casey’s trousers… the kiss came to a slow close, and Zeke looked down on Casey with soft, questioning eyes.

“That night…” he paused to swallow; he then brought the hand hovering over the pillows to Casey’s brow. It danced on the skin as Zeke’s eyes searched Casey’s face, making him feel naked. “…When I was with Jamie?”

Another goddamned pause. “Yea?” Casey said in a croak.

Zeke shook his head slowly. “All I could think of was--‘why Jamie? Why the fuck couldn’t Casey have been here to do this?’”

“Hmm,” Casey felt a blush coming on his cheeks as he lowered his eyes, watching Zeke’s other hand at his waist. “You don’t have to say that…”

“Can you let me be honest? Please?”

The pleading in Zeke’s voice made Casey look back at him, humor and blushing gone. He meant it, that much Casey knew. He nodded a little. “Oh… okay,” he said.

A pained expression came on Zeke’s face as he let his eyes roam over the pillow, Casey’s hair, then back to his face. “I’ve wanted this… since you got here,” he said. This stunned Casey into silence as Zeke petted his hair, down to his cheeks. Casey swore he saw tears in Zeke’s eyes as he leaned down for a series of small, wet kisses. “’Been driving me out of my fucking mind…”

That was all it took for Casey to lift his chin and start kissing back, taking it in slow, smooth strides. Two hours--nothing to rush, nothing to hide, even. There could be checks in the peephole, of course, but this was allowed. What they were doing abided the rules completely… sort of. The ‘sort of’ barely registered as Casey gave in completely, nudged Zeke’s head up with his and shimmied to get underneath the young man. Zeke, breathing harder and raspier, allowed it, taking the invitation to push Casey’s legs open to allow them body-to-body contact.

God, Zeke was hard. So, so hard. Casey felt it plainly through both sets of pants, urging him to push his hips up, all to let Zeke feel the growing excitement in his loins. A deep growl rumbled in Zeke’s throat but it drifted off into a hum, one of pleasure and want. Their kisses slowed until both sets of lips stopped and Zeke pulled away, a small line of saliva stretching and breaking between them. Casey smiled shakily; Zeke smiled back, sighed, then let his hand wander to Casey’s shirt.

Each button being undone felt like a knot being untied--a barrier between what they could and couldn’t do coming apart, leaving them to do exactly as they pleased. Casey felt the cloth opening more and more, a button brush and snag on an erect nipple as it was pushed to the side. A small whimper escaped his lips, Zeke noticing; Casey watched Zeke’s eyes travel to his chest; the older boy licked his lower lip then lowered his head, all to trail his tongue over and around the hardened nub. Casey hissed in a deep breath through his nose and squirmed his hips, his knees rising up even more to cradle Zeke’s body. “Wanted this…” Zeke’s hollow voice said as he continued licking, taking quick, biting sucks every few seconds. The shirt now open completely, Zeke slid his hand to the other side and plucked Casey’s other nipple, exciting the boy further. It suddenly seemed extremely unfair that Casey was receiving such glorious attentions, while Zeke had been so-far ignored. Casey rectified this by reaching down to the hem of Zeke’s shirt, nudging up to move the young man away and pulling the fabric off, sending it to the floor in a heap. He then lifted up, shrugged the shirt from his shoulders and let it drape down behind him; he stayed there, one hand braced on the mattress with clenching fingers, the other coming up to rest on Zeke’s chest.

It was silent between them as they made tentative exploration of each other’s bodies, as if they’d never seen each other before. As if they’d never done this before. Their actions were pure, almost virginal; they weren’t prostitutes here and now. Prostitutes didn’t do these things. This was exactly what lovers did with each others, when they loved each other. Casey had never felt this from anyone, not even Cal; Cal was a customer that was in love with what he paid for. Even if, technically, he and Zeke were being paid to do this, they could’ve just as easily played cards, smoked cigarettes or have been ‘ethical’ in getting Felix on his feet and…

Speaking of which, the loud, sudden snore and unintelligible voice coming from Felix made the both of them stop everything and look over. Zeke sniffed and set his jaw, while Casey panicked… ‘No. Don’t, don’t wake up. Please. If you have ANY good left in you, Felix…’ As if the man understood, he settled down with a smack of lips then went back into his alcohol-induced slumber. Zeke sighed, put a finger on his smiling lips to tell Casey shh, then slipped from the bed. Casey bit his lip as he watched Zeke tiptoe over; a giggle escaped Casey when he saw Zeke tip Felix’s hat further over his brow until it rested over the man’s eyes and nose. The poor drunkard only smacked his lips again but said and did nothing.

Zeke turned away from Felix and looked back at Casey; he regarded him with soft eyes as he began undressing, starting with the buttons of his slacks. Casey’s skin prickled at the sight of flesh coming into view. He knew Zeke’s body, but not like this… not in this scene, this situation. Two hours could never be enough, and they had less than that, now. It urged Casey on into undressing himself, staring at Zeke as he did. Zeke grinned, took another look back at Felix then dropped the clothing from his hips, down his legs and off. Casey was just working the pants down his hips when Zeke went to the bedposts. For a moment, Casey was puzzled at his untying the knots of the bed’s curtains, until one side swooped down, closing one half of the view. When the other fell, it draped along Zeke’s side; Zeke stepped past it, leaving nothing but a curtain of red velvet behind him. No Felix, no doorway, nothing.

Showing his impatience, Zeke didn’t wait for Casey to lift his ass to get out of his clothes. He put Casey on his back, cock jutting past the flaps and up, then took the waist of the pants himself to tug down. It was all shimmies and awkward giggles for Casey as he was made bare; all of that disappeared when Zeke crawled between his legs again, making them skin-to-skin. Casey fluttered his lashes and looked down; his eyes almost crossed at the sight he’d always wanted to see. Zeke, on him, their cocks aligned and cradling each other… the small rise of Zeke’s belly going concave as he stretched over Casey, elbows going over his shoulders… Casey was brought back into a kiss, one he closed his eyes for, all to enjoy the taste of Zeke’s lips.

There was nothing like it. Zeke was spicy-sweet, smoky and elegant, all in one swipe of his tongue against Casey’s. He tasted like his painting in their room looked: an Ohio Summer, with fresh-grown hay and vegetable fields. Why it did this, Casey didn’t know; he felt at home, like everything was all right with the world, just as long as he had Zeke--his sweet, smoky summer. Beads of sweat on Casey’s brow, the cool taste of a freshwater spring, the smell of soil on dirty knees… home.

Again, it was Zeke doing most of the work, but Casey wasn’t about to be lazy in this department. With a pull and twist of one hip he put Zeke on his side, moved to his and lowered his lips to Zeke’s neck. A puff of breath left Zeke’s throat, Casey feeling its exit as he lapped along Zeke’s Adam’s Apple. He kissed down to the hollow and sucked there a moment, causing Zeke to make a hard swallow and run his hands over Casey’s back. One swoop to the left and Casey was at his shoulder, reveling in the taste of masculine skin and the feel of hard bone. Unable to wait, he gave Zeke the same treatment he’d gotten, latching onto a nipple and sucking with soft greed. Zeke now hissed and pulled back, just a little, all to let the flesh stretch and tense. A groan left him, shuddering along Casey’s mouth and chin. Casey opened his eyes in slits and trailed them along Zeke’s side, his hip, where Casey could see the slope of his ass. His hand shook over to the jutting bone and went down to the globe of flesh, fingertips pressing in hard.

“Mmm…” Zeke groaned with want as Casey slipped a finger into the cleft. He simply felt him in small dips and circles, exploring him. Why he hadn’t expected Zeke to reciprocate and do the same, he didn’t know, but he almost jumped when Zeke grabbed each side of Casey’s ass and gripped it, hard. It made Casey straighten, putting his eyes level to Zeke’s chin. In one slow, fluid movement, Zeke was on his back, taking Casey with him. Casey’s thighs braced around Zeke’s hips, allowing Zeke to hold him even tighter, the tips of his fingers moving to the middle to molest his cleft and exposed opening. Knuckles bent and flattened, over and over again, all to create pressure in Casey’s most sensitive, private area. Visions began filling Casey’s mind; his eyes closed and crossed behind the lids. He reached down between them to their aching shafts with a blind hand, took them both into it and began stroking them off, pressed tightly together as he jerked his wrist up and down. Zeke stiffened underneath him, thighs tensing so hard Casey rose an inch or two. His hands stopped moving and left Casey completely, then reached down between them to stop Casey, as well. Casey opened his eyes and looked down on him. Zeke licked and gnawed at his lower lip. For a moment, Casey worried; was he about to say ‘wait, no, this isn’t right’ and end this, here and now? He wouldn’t, couldn’t be that cruel…

Casey’s fears slipped away when Zeke held onto Casey’s sides and turned his back to the bed once again, then climbed on. Casey watched him reach over to the bedside table for the small flask of oil. “Wait…” Casey said, putting a hand on Zeke’s shoulder.

“I can’t,” Zeke said.

“No… no, please…” Casey leaned up to put a gentle kiss on Zeke’s chin. “Let me suck you. T-That should be enough.”

Zeke’s eyes narrowed as he sighed and sat up. Instead of crawling up to present himself to Casey’s lips, he dismounted, turned and faced Casey’s feet. Casey gasped as his legs were pushed up to bend at the knees then shoved back along his sides; Zeke lowered his mouth to Casey’s cock. “Oh god, oh god…” Casey said, just before Zeke aligned his cock with Casey’s lips, which Casey took in without pause.

The both of them moaned around their flesh, causing a ripple of excitement to course through Casey’s veins. In getting to pleasure Zeke, thus pleasuring himself, all Casey could think… nothing will be like this, ever. You’re ruined, Casey. Totally ruined. He smiled at the thought of how utterly, fucking boring every man was going to be after this. ‘The job’ was going to be dull, but it was all worth it--as long as Casey could say with all honesty that he’d taken Zeke in his mouth, tasted every inch of man he had, he didn’t care. He wondered if Zeke felt the same… if he enjoyed sucking him, knowing that this was the ‘end all’ to every sexual encounter he’d… encounter.

But when Zeke dipped down even lower to lave Casey’s hole with his tongue, Casey couldn’t keep himself together to continue with the mutual pleasuring. He only hoped Zeke understood why he couldn’t go on reciprocating with the moaning-mess he was becoming; nothing was said about it. Zeke didn’t seem to mind at all, especially when he turned himself away from Casey and moved his whole body around to brace his shoulders against the backs of Casey’s thighs to intensify his motions, the tongue-lashing getting hungrier with every second. It was all Casey could do to not start screaming with joy and lust; he pulled his knees up himself in a shameless presentation, making damned sure Zeke knew that this was exactly what he wanted. The slick, wet muscle probed deeper and deeper, hollow breaths heating Casey’s ass and thighs. “Z-Zeke…” he moaned. This was making him feel frantic, feverish--he needed Zeke inside him. Now. “Zeke, fuck me. Please fuck me,” he said in quick, rushed pants.

After one last sucking kiss, Zeke moved away and climbed over Casey again. A pause stretched between them as he got level with Casey’s face and went still. Casey could feel the head of Zeke’s saliva-slicked cock pressing just next to his hole, ready to go… ‘please, let’s go…’ he pleaded in his mind…

“This… this might never happen ever again, you under--”

“Shut up, please, shut up and--just--” Casey pleaded. No reminders, not fucking now. He hooked his arms around Zeke’s shoulders and neck, all to bring himself up and kiss Zeke in soft pecks. “--Make love to me. Like it WON’T ever happen again.”

Casey could see the steely resolve return to Zeke’s eyes as he stared at the boy, until he dipped down, positioned then hooked Casey’s legs over his arms. A snarl curled his lip as he pushed forward, entering Casey’s body in one smooth, slow shove. Casey’s eyes widened then closed in a quick snap. “Oh f-fuck,” he whispered through a shaky breath. When he felt Zeke fill him completely and go still to brace the muscles of his legs, Casey pushed his shoulders into the bed, lifted his hips and stiffened his legs to offer resistance. He stayed as Zeke pulled back then came forward again, their lovemaking starting off so slow, so accurate, so perfect. The swallow Casey made felt stuck in his throat, choking him to the point of tears springing up in his eyes.

As Zeke quickened the pace, Casey grabbed onto his shoulders and hung on. Zeke’s forehead rested above Casey’s chin; it needed kisses, many of them. Casey turned his mouth to it and took soft pecks, quaking breaths escaping with every pull back. Zeke turned away, all to deliver harder kisses along the line of Casey’s jaw, down to his neck. His breathing was rapid, jerking, almost wheezing as he kept on going, making small circles with his hips to offer yet more angles and stimulation. When he found the bundle of nerves lying inside of Casey’s body, the boy couldn’t stop himself from one, lone howl. One split-second of worry disappeared into I don’t care, I don’t FUCKING care… as Casey continued whimpering, loudly. He wanted this to last, last as long as they could make it…

He failed miserably, giving in to the rising tide and slipping into the depths of the world’s most perfect orgasm. NO-one had ever done this before, felt this way before, nothing. As Casey let string after string of milky-wet splash between them, he thought he heard angels singing, just for them. A perfect, wonderful dementia that he’d have no problem dwelling in--just as long as this was a common occurrence, he’d be as mad as he wanted to be.

His body went limp, letting Zeke take over to manipulate it just the way he wanted. Casey looked up at Zeke with bleary eyes, high as a kite, more than content. Bliss. A small smile shook on his lips as he rode the wave Zeke had become…

“I love you,” Zeke suddenly blurted. Casey went still as Zeke tensed his jaw, over and over again, then put his forehead down on Casey’s shoulder. “I love you,” he muttered into Casey’s skin.

“I love you, too…” Casey said, wrapping his arms around Zeke’s back and shoulders. The thrusting went erratic, but Casey felt like he was on a cloud as he smiled. “Love you so much.”

Zeke’s whole body made a violent jerk and he moaned as he made a few last, pounding thrusts; the heat from below made Casey feel like the room had exploded into a ball of flame. He wouldn’t have cared if it did.


~*~


As Zeke lit his third post-coital cigarette, he grinned Casey’s way. “I’m gonna draw you.”

“Hmm?”

“Yea.”

Casey blinked and put his unlit smoke to Zeke’s, igniting the tip. “Draw me?”

“Am I speaking Greek?” Zeke asked; Casey rolled his eyes and grinned back at him.

“Sorta. It isn’t often I hear broody, ‘but I can’t fucking do it!’ Zeke Tyler talk about making art,” he said. With a sigh, he curled a finger in Zeke’s palm and traced circles around it. “So… how are you gonna draw me?”

“In your sleep.”

“That’s creepy.”

Zeke snorted and chuckled. “Creepy? I thought you’d think that was romantic.”

“Well… maybe, in a way. Just--don’t draw in the drool. Make me look beautiful,” he said in a lofty, dramatic voice.

“Yea, that’d be hard,” Zeke replied, leaning in quick to kiss Casey’s forehead. He stayed there a moment and puffed out a breath. Casey knew what he was thinking.

“How long’ve we got?” he asked.

“About ten minutes. Maybe… yea. We should get up, get moving.”

Reality. Stupid, goddamned reality. It was back to the real world, where they pretended that everything between them was a ho-hum-nothing, and the Johns were the most interesting, most wonderful people on the planet. Casey couldn’t help himself, however. “Zeke?” he said while grabbing his pants from the floor.

“Hmm?”

“It… MIGHT happen again.”

Zeke shrugged a little as he slipped his legs into his slacks. “Yea, it might.”

“Yea,” Casey said. He couldn’t press on, asking things like, ‘Like tonight, after everyone’s gone to bed…?’ He needed to find solace in the fact that yes, Zeke loved him. Yes, in some alternate reality where this was ‘okay’, they’d be married on a day full of perfect weather, blue skies, on a beach perhaps. At least Casey hoped Zeke thought the same way, at any rate. He smiled and stood to get his clothing on. In pulling the curtain back, he found Felix, still sleeping. “Christ. Him again.”

“Where’d you expect him to be?” Zeke asked, amused.

“I dunno. Somewhere far away where he couldn’t ever find us again.”

“Ah…” Zeke came from around the bed and over to Casey, fully-dressed and wearing a sly grin. He leaned in, putting their noses together. “…But not for Felix, we wouldn’t have done this, now would we have?”

Casey raised his eyebrows and grinned back. “Hmm. True enough--”

The sudden blackness of the room confused Casey, until the lamps flickered back on. “Whoa… is there a storm?” Casey asked; he turned his head to look through the window when the room fell dark again.

Lights on.

Dark again.

Lights on.

Casey froze, but Zeke snapped into action immediately. He grabbed Casey’s shirt with one hand, the other taking Casey’s wrist. Panic rose when he was dragged to the door, going by the still-sleeping Felix. “Zeke, Felix, he’s--”

“No fucking time, let’s GO,” Zeke nearly yelled.

“Zeke…” Casey ran with him down the hall to the stairs, thought he didn’t know how he was able to. The pit in his stomach was swelling, creating painful pressure in his abdomen. The stairs flew by him seemingly on their own, until they were on the top floor and in their room. Zeke let Casey go in a jerk and ran to his side of the room.

“Hurry, your go-bag, now,” Zeke said in a quaking voice.

“What--”

“GET your SHIT, NOW!”

Zeke’s yelling brought tears to Casey’s eyes, but it managed to break Casey out of his numb shock enough to hustle. He fell to his knees and snatched the handles of his rucksack, then the large, sturdy leather case holding his art supplies. In standing up, his knees suddenly locked; he almost fell, but Zeke was at his side. He took Casey’s arm, steadied him then in a flash threw one of Casey’s sweaters over his head, shoulders and arms. Casey helped, however much he could, until he came out from the cloth. Shoes were grabbed next, no socks involved in the process, then their coats and hats. All the while, Zeke kept his eyes on the door. “I don’t hear anything, not yet… fuck, fuck…”

“Maybe it’s a drill?”

“No. No drill. Hurry, now,” Zeke said.

Casey took one last nervous swallow, forced himself to face the situation at hand and finished the shoes. He made a quick scan--oh god, Zeke’s artwork. The books. His books, the presents--he quickly snagged The Prophet and the Poe books in one swoop and shoved them into the rucksack. It felt heavy, but he didn’t care. He stared at the roses as Zeke finished up and headed to the door.

“Casey, now.”

Casey swiped Cal’s card from the table and stuck it into his coat pocket. Why, he didn’t know. But there could be no more lingering; the world was busy exploding around them, and they needed to find a way out. “Where, downstairs? Do we--”

“Noah’s room, the fire escape,” Zeke blurted as he once again grabbed Casey’s hand and ran down the hallway. For a moment, worry overcame Casey. Noah. Where was he, downstairs still? In the showers? Had he closed his eyes at the worst time?

Relief flooded him when he remembered Noah’s ‘situation’, which had sent him to his room; they ran in and found Noah, fully-dressed, two bags slung over his shoulder and more alert than ever. He turned his head upon seeing the boys rushing in, then pointed to the opened window. No words were spoken as Zeke went over, made a quick but cautious look outside then slipped out. He waited for the two others to help them, taking each of their hands as they exited.

“Down the stairs, but keep fuckin’ quiet…” Zeke said. Casey nodded and took Noah’s hand to help guide him as they made their descent down two flights of metal stairs. He winced at every metallic click and clack. Were cops all around the building--what had tipped Helen off? They could be running straight into a ring of policemen, guns drawn and yelling for them to halt! He darted his eyes around the alleyway below; no one was there. Besides their rushed steps and heavy breathing, the only sounds he could hear were distant car horns.

“This is a false alarm…” Casey murmured to no one in particular as they reached the ladder that came from the last platform. “Just a drill.”

Zeke ignored him to drop his bags down to the cracked pavement below and descend. Casey almost giggled; he looked like a soldier. Once he was on solid ground, Zeke looked up and pointed at Noah. “Noah! You first, drop your things!” he hissed. Noah didn’t need ears to know what was going on; he did as he knew he was told, letting Zeke catch the bags before rushing downward.

“Now you, Casey, hop-to.”

Casey bit his lip, took one last look to the windows above then followed the instruction. For a moment he worried that Zeke wouldn’t catch the case carrying his delicate supplies, but much like an expert ballplayer, Zeke snagged it from the air and let it drop by his feet. Casey took a deep breath and climbed down the ladder then dropped the last yard, getting caught in Zeke’s arms. They didn’t stay around him, however; in a flash, their things were snatched up, replaced over their shoulders and Noah led the way down the alleyway, which brought them to a trashcan lined chain-link fence. Before Casey could worry about how he’d never done well in sports or any other physical activity that involved climbing, he saw Noah opening a large, hidden hole in the fence, wide and tall enough for even Zeke to slip through in a crouch. Casey followed Noah, but his bag snagged on the fence and jerked him back.

“Shit…” Zeke said from behind in a shaky voice. Casey felt him tugging and pulling at the straps caught on the broken-up links. For a moment, he thought, ‘This is over NOTHING. Let’s just go back…’ but stopped when he heard distant voices and footfalls. “Shit!” Zeke said again, even more panicked this time. Casey dipped down, lunged forward and came free, luckily not ripping anything apart in the process. It allowed Zeke to rush through next; just in time, as the footfalls reached the alleyway and echoed in loud booms, like bombs. The boys dropped to their knees to get behind the cans, serving as well-needed barriers between them and… Casey peered over the top of one can and through the links, where he saw a large group of police officers passing by like troops going off to war. He swallowed at the sight of firearms. When one of the men turned a flashlight down the alley, he dropped back down, holding his breath and shaking, hard.

“No one down here!”

“You take your men under that fire escape--catch any rats trying to flee. West, take yours on the other side.”

Shouts of agreement sounded off. Noah tugged at Casey’s arm; the boy looked up, finding Zeke hunched down and making his way to the small alley on their right. Once there, he stood straight against the tall wooden fence and looked down. After a moment, he waved his hand to them to say, ‘Come on, it’s clear!’ Noah and Casey grabbed each other’s hand and made their way over, careful to not reveal their positions, until they were by Zeke’s side and jogging down the narrow alley that led behind the apartment building--the one facing their building. The high fence hid them well enough from the small yard while allowing a view of their home, into the windows… lights were on, but Casey couldn’t see anyone. The back doors were closed, no one coming out. ‘Oh god… oh no, no…’ Casey thought. Tears threatened him again, but he shook his head as clear as he could make it to turn away and keep moving… keep moving, until they were safe.

But he couldn’t help but stop when he heard a series of loud, angry bangs and thumps, then incoherent shouting. Noah stopped with him, along with Zeke, who’d been holding Noah’s other hand. They were far enough to not know what was being said--or bellowed--but Casey could take a good guess. He gripped the strap of his bag tight and clenched his jaw, feeling sick.

“C’mon… gotta get somewhere safe,” Zeke murmured, tugging Noah lightly.

“Yea? And where’s that?” Casey asked in a dry, sad voice. Zeke turned to look at him, sniffed then turned back to keep moving, keep moving, keep moving. The only reason Casey went along without an answer was to escape the sounds coming from the house, where only the worst could be feared.


~*~