Andrew’s fingers went numb, clutching the cold can in its brown-paper sleeve.

Without warning, hands surrounded his narrow waist, yanking him into the alley. A mouth pressed to his lips as his back collided with the rough brick.

He grasped the beer can tightly and swung out, striking Niko in the chest.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he screamed.

Niko stood there with widened eyes and flushed skin.

“Never grab me like that,” he yelled.

Niko moved to the opposite wall, more baffled than usual. It certainly wasn’t the first time Andrew lashed out at his overt physicality, but months had passed since the last incident.

Full of remorse, Andrew calmed.

“Don’t ever do that again, okay?” he whispered.

Niko nodded. “Andrej,” he said, arms open. “Come back with me,”

Still unsettled, Andrew moved into his embrace.

“I’m sorry you dropped your drink,” Niko whispered, kissing his head.

“I’m sorry, too,” said Andrew.

On the train to Brighton, he listened to Niko talk about some deer he’d seen in the woods while driving north of the city, and the subject of Dmitri and Cyril remained unspoken.

At the place, Samil and Radek lay on the couch together, watching television, and Radek jumped up when they entered.

“We need foods,” he said to his brother.

“You want food?” Niko asked as Andrew stepped to the kitchen table.

Samil joined them. “Chinese,”

“You got money?” Radek asked Niko.

Niko turned to Andrew. “You got money?”

“I ain’t buying you dinner,” he said.

“Broke again, Niko?” laughed Sam.

“I’m plenty fixed,” the man defended, then flashed his puppy eyes. “Please, Andrej,”

Andrew pulled out a ten-dollar bill. “I want sesame chicken,”

“That’s not enough for us both,” Niko pouted.

Andrew stared at him. “Make it enough,”

The taller man frowned while reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a roll of twenty-dollar bills and eyeballed Samil as unpeeled two. “What do you want, fat girl?”

“Chicken lo-mein, no veggies,” said Sam.

Niko curled his lip. “They won’t make that,”

“They’ll make anything,” Andrew said. “That’s how they get your money,”

Niko kissed Andrew on the head. “You’re lucky I love you,”

Samil stared at Andrew, blinking in amazement. Of course, Andrew didn’t return the sentiment, and once the brothers were gone, he faced Samil’s stare.

“How’s life going?” Sam asked with a grin.

“Still working the Tea Room,” he answered.

Sam set his elbows on the table. “How is it working with Dimi?”

“How did you know about Dmitri?” he asked.

Sam cocked his head. “Niko came back here to get Cyril,”

“That was drama I didn’t need,” he groused.

“You hang out with Dimi yet?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know him that well,” he said.

Sam grew quiet, as was his uncharacteristic habit these days. He spoke little to anyone other than Radek, perhaps sensing the others’ distrust of his brother.

“Is everything okay?” asked Andrew.

Sam’s demeanor brightened.

“Do you know the saga of Dmitri and Cyril?”

“Niko wouldn’t tell me,”

“It’s very juicy,” said Sam, eyebrows jumping.

“I’ve got a half-hour to kill,”

Sam laughed at that. “Dmitri Boscov was fifteen when he showed up here with some boys from Williamsburg,”

“I’m sure the menfolk were buzzing around like flies,” said Andrew.

“Dmitri was definitely the belle of the ball, but the hotties got pissed when he only had eyes for Cyril,” Samil smirked. “He hooks up with Cyril that night and every night after that, if you catch my drift,”

“Drift?” he cracked. “More like a gust,”

“A week later,” said Sam. “Cyril takes Dimi to Atlantic City, and that’s when poppa Boscov loses his shit,”

“I get that, I guess,” he shrugged. “It’s his fifteen-year-old son,”

“The cops showed up here,” Sam said, smiling.

“You are way too happy telling this story,” he teased.

“Dmitri got this idea in his head that he would move in here and live with Cyril, but when he tried, his parents charged Cyril with sodomy.” Sam leaned in gleefully. “Boy, they even got Sash deported,”

“No fucking way?” Andrew sat up in the chair. “Poor innocent, Sash?”

“Okay, listen. One night, this guy comes for Cyril, and Sash steps up and kills him.” Sam took a swig of his beer. “Turns out he was Dmitri’s cousin,”

“Sash murdered a man?”

“That fucker had a gun,” Sam defended. “He would’ve killed Cyril.”

Andrew didn’t know how to respond.

“Dmitri wasn’t happy seeing Cyril tonight,” he said.

“Get out?” Sam’s head swung. “That bitch got some nerve being mad. He came back here after Sash got deported. Got drunk and then centered a gangbang,”

Andrew’s stomach hardened. “You’re full of shit,”

“I was here, on that couch,” Sam said, finger aimed. “Cyril got him all worked up in the bedroom, and when he came out, the others went in and fucked that bitch until morning,”

Andrew felt queasy. “Did they rape him?”

“Fuck no,” Sam said, laughing. “That twink bitch came out here, got a drink of water, and went right back to it,”

Andrew’s imagination ran wild. “Did Niko take part?”

“Nikola was the first one in his ass,” said Sam.

The apartment door opened as Andrew kept focused on Samil, even as two brown bags of Chinese take-out dropped onto the table between them.

“Me and Niko will be back in a few hours,” said Radek, departing.

Sam called after him, “Hours?”

Andrew carefully opened the bag closest to him. He pulled out a white pint container of lo mein and handed it to Sam after confirming that his food sat beneath it.

“You’re not eating?” Sam watched as he stood.

“I’m eating.” Andrew took the bag in hand. “I’m just not doing it here,”

“Get out,” said Sam. “Did I piss you off?” “No,” Andrew said. “I’m not that emotionally invested,”