Samil warned him, but Andrew hadn’t listened.

Yesterday, he returned to the Tea Room for the spare subway token he had kept in his locker. Grunting drew him to a closed stall in the men’s room, and underneath it were two sets of familiar shoes.

“I saw yous at the boardwalk on Saturday,” Dmitri said, folding his modest tip stack and shoving it into his waiter’s smock. “You, Niko, Sam-Sam, and Radek.”

Andrew couldn’t look at him. “Why didn’t you come over?”

“I was with my brother and a friend,” he said.

“A friend?” Andrew forced a smile. “Someone from here?”

“No, he’s from my brother’s bank,” he said. “He’s a little older, but he’s cool.”

“A bank, huh?” Andrew went through the motions. “Is he Polish?”

“Of course not,” he laughed. “Could you see my mother? She’d have an enormous fit if I entered the house with another Polish fag,”

“My mom cared more about a man’s looks than his moral compass.” Andrew suddenly ached for home. “When it came to boys, she would ask, Andrej, does he make you happy?”

“Aw,” Dmitri cooed, close enough now that their arms touched.

“And I’d say, no, we’re not dating,” Andrew studied the young man’s smile and marveled at his talent for deception. “It’s only high school,”

“I didn’t see Glass-Eye with yous guys,” said Dmitri.

Andrew walked out. “Niko claims he got a job out of the city.”

“Wait up!” Dmitri followed him through the dining room. “What’s up with you, Drew? You okay?”

No, he wasn’t okay. The crack in the stall door had revealed too much, and now all Andrew could see when he looked at Dmitri was Niko’s large hands pinning his fingers against metal. The lanky bastard’s face was twisted as he rammed himself into Dmitri’s pale, narrow ass.

Andrew pushed through the front doors, intent on walking instead of riding the train.

Behind him, Dmitri raised his hands to the sky.

“It’s a gorgeous day,” he declared.

Andrew kept moving even as Dmitri appeared alongside.

Block after block, strangers exchanged pleasantries after a long and tedious summer. Food carts offered aromas intense enough to blunt the asphalt stink, and a sun-soaked breeze lured him to the Prometheus fountain at Rockefeller Center.

Dmitri plopped down beside him.

“Did Niko tell you what he does for a living?”

“No,” said Andrew, feeling the stone surround’s roughness through his jeans. “I didn’t ask.”

“Aren’t you curious?” Dmitri pressed. “I can tell you if you want to know.”

Andrew hoped playing unresponsive might end the manipulation.

“Earth to Drew,” said Dmitri.

“I don’t really care enough about Niko,” he said, facing him. “But if you need to talk about him, don’t let me stop you,”

Dmitri blinked. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just what I said.” The fountain’s mist cooled the nape of his neck.

“A prison in Brno taught him electrical engineering,” said Dmitri, unphased. “At another jail in Gdansk, he put together alarm systems,”

“I see Poland utilizes the slave labor system,” he mused.

“I drove Cyril’s car when they cruised neighborhoods,” Dmitri revealed, smiling. “They went as far as Delaware, looking for these large, expensive houses for sale. Once Cyril found one, he’d bring in Glass Eye, Radek, and Niko.”

Andrew listened intently.

“If Glass Eye decided the score was worth it, they’d send Miro or Tadeshi to inquire about living there. The realtors gave them all the info they needed to canvass, including an open house tour.” Dmitri’s calm matched his airy voice. “They’d wait for a major holiday when everyone in the neighborhood was gone. Glass Eye had a Mercedes back then, but he didn’t like me driving it,”

Andrew thought about Sash naked behind the wheel and the brief fantasy triggering him enough to turn his stomach.

“I’d pull up wearing something like a realtor would wear. Radek showed up in a moving rig while Niko went inside and disabled the fusion boxes operating the security system.” Dmitri continued grinning, like a child revealing his naughtiest prank. “Tadeshi and Cyril cleaned out the safes because they knew how, while Miro, Glass Eye, and the others acted like movers lugging expensive shit onto the truck.”

Dmitri met Andrew’s stare.

“I remember the first time,” he added. “I had no idea what was going down,”

“How many of these heists did you do?”

“Too many.” Dmitri lowered his head, playing at shame. “I wanted to drive away that first time and leave them. I was so scared. I remember thinking, ‘Oh my God! They’re stealing from people. What should I do?’ But I did nothing.”

Andrew suspected that he did nothing because he loved it.

“I got scared after Glass Eye and Konni bought guns with their profits,” Dmitri added quickly. “They took their guns to Queens and the Bronx and sold them.”

Bile bubbled in Andrew’s throat.

“When my dad said they were criminals, I didn’t want to believe it, not about Cyril,” Dmitri murmured. “I knew men like them existed because my stupid cousin was part of that life, but my Cyril is a thief, not a killer.”

Andrew stood, and Dmitri rose with him.

“How did you get Sash deported?”

Dmitri reacted as if slapped across the face.

“When I wouldn’t leave Cyril, my cousin said he’d take care of it. They found him dead, Drew, and everyone claimed Glass Eye shot him,”

“Take care of it?” said Andrew. “Your cousin tried to kill Cyril?”

“Yes, and he deserved what he got for it.” Dmitri countered. “But his wife, her two friends, and a four-year-old boy? Glass Eye had no right to kill them.”

Andrew’s eyes widened.

“If Niko says that Glass Eye is on a job,” Dmitri said, staring at the fountain. “That means someone somewhere is dead or dying.”

Andrew rose and slipped past him with his arms folded.

“Drew.” Dmitri caught up to him. “I shouldn’t have told you any of this,”

“Why do you insist on it?” he snapped. “I don’t give a shit about Niko,”

This wasn’t a lie. If he genuinely cared for Niko, he would have confronted him about fucking Dmitri. All he felt, however, was relief.

“Where are we going tonight?” Andrew asked him.

Dmitri brightened. “Anywhere you want,”

“Anywhere I want?”

“Just you and me,” Dmitri said, two fingers raised. “No, Niko.”

“Had enough of him, have you?”

“What do you mean by that?” Dmitri asked, following him.

♪

Weed-heavy air washed away his pain while swaying to Donna Summer and her song about getting lucky. When an uninvited hand found him on the dance floor, Andrew moved his sensual bubble closer to Dmitri, who soon had him moving like a trained dancer.

REMOVED - TAPAS CHARACTER LIMIT.

The man worked for a Williamsburg bank, a laughable factoid once Andrew dubbed him William from Burg.

W-Burg was transferring to Daly City in California, and he offered to take Dmitri along so he could try out for a place at Berkeley School of Dance. Andrew sobered up enough to share his thoughts; a permanent move for someone Dmitri had only known for six months sounded insane.

Dmitri turned the TV off when Andrew fell back onto his bed. Lying side-by-side, deep in the lull of the liquor, Dmitri’s hand found Andrew’s arm in the dark.

“Did you know that some of this stuff belongs to Glass Eye?” Dmitri’s breath warmed his arm. “I’m shocked Niko didn’t say anything,”

“He’s never been here,” said Andrew. “Stop fishing,”

Dmitri chuckled, “How is Radecki?”

“He’s been getting it on with Samil since I met him,” said Andrew, smirking. “You can hear them fucking all the time,”

“I don’t know much about Sam-Sam,” Dmitri said. “Only that Tadeshi used to call him a pig in and out of bed,”

Andrew laughed. “I can only imagine what he says about me,”

“He’s a scumbag bitch,” said Dmitri.

“How do you really feel about him?” Andrew teased.

Dmitri sniggered. “He goes down to youth shelters and picks up twenty-year-old homeless girls, trying to get them to marry his friends so they can stay in the country. I went to his first wedding to some runaway from Iowa,”

“What happened to her?” asked Andrew.

“She wanted two thousand dollars to marry him, but he only paid her about a hundred because she ran up the phone bill.” Dmitri let loose a derisive grunt. “What did he expect from someone marrying him for the money?”

Andrew scoffed as Dmitri’s arm draped across his stomach.

“Drew,” he whispered. “Ask me what you want to ask me,”

“What do I want to ask you?”

“About my last night at the place,”

“If you want to talk about it,” said Andrew. “I’m listening,”

“I’m not ashamed,” Dmitri said, rising on his elbow.

Andrew let the booze guide his curiosity.

“What was it like?”

“I got with Cyril first, letting him do what he does best, getting me hot.” Dmitri rolled onto his back again. “That old geezer is a foreplay master,”

“I can’t imagine Cyril having sex,” he winced.

Dmitri hummed. “What he does with his mouth and tongue,”

“Spare me the details, please,” he begged. “He’s like a grandpa,”

Dmitri whispered, “You want to know what it was like with the others?”

“Not them specifically,” said Andrew.

“What does that mean?” Dmitri asked.

“What’s it like,” said Andrew. “With more than one lover?”

“I knew it was coming,” Dmitri said, suddenly sullen. “I prepared my ass and everything before going over there,” Lips moved against Andrew’s arm as the young man elaborated. “It was a little scary with all of them pawing at me,”

Andrew brought his arm up and behind his head.

“Lucky bitch,” he said.

Dmitri laughed softly.

“Once all those dicks came out, this genie left the fucking bottle,”

Together, they laughed.

“I regret nothing,” Dmitri added.

“You were never going back there,” Andrew agreed. “Why not burn that bridge down to the struts?”

“Exactly.” Dmitri’s breath tickled Andrew’s armpit. “I wanted to see if I could manage it, and I did. It took a few days to recover,”

“I can imagine,” said Andrew.

“Porn bottoms are athletes, Drew,” Dmitri snuggled closer. “I was putting ben-gay on my lower back and thighs and sucking throat lozenges for a week.”

Andrew’s forearm rested on Dmitri’s back.

“I’ll never do it again, though,” he added.

“I’d never do it at all,” Andrew sighed. “I don’t have the guts, literally and figuratively,”

Dmitri hummed against his ribs.

“You ever do anything that would put you in slut-jail, Drew?”

“A few things, I guess,” he said. “How do you prepare your ass for a gangbang?”

“Very carefully, but I always bottom, so I prep a couple of days a week.” Dmitri rose on his elbow again, and from where his long hair fell, Andrew knew he was staring down at him. “What’s the weirdest thing you ever had in your ass? I used a carrot one time with a condom on it,”

Emboldened by the liquor, Andrew didn’t hesitate.

“I had a gun up my ass once.” After a beat, he added, “With a condom on it,”

“Serial?” Dmitri said gently, sitting up. “Oh my God,”

“It was scary at first,” Andrew said, unable to stop the words. “He wanted to hurt me, but it didn’t go like he planned,”

Dmitri’s voice floated in the dark. “Drew…”

“The genie left the fucking bottle.” The burning in Andrew’s nose abated, and he cleared his throat. “Let’s drop it. Forget I said anything.”

“Okay,” Dmitri murmured, lying back down. “Ask me something new,”

“Tell me about Niko,” he said, and after a moment of silence, he added, “I know you screwed him, Dimi,”

The bed rocked when Dmitri rose to his knees.

“I told you before,” Andrew assured. “I’m not that emotionally invested.”

Encouraged by his indifference, Dmitri delivered.

“He likes having his dick sucked, and he comes faster if you play with his balls,” he told him. “He’s a total top, and his need for ass is tiring,”

Andrew envisioned Dmitri surrounded by a group of thugs with dicks in their hands, and one of them was Sash. “You ever fuck Glass Eye?”

“Ew, no.” Dmitri plopped back down beside him. “He never looked at me twice, which is weird since he loves dancers,”

“Stripers?”

“Not the Chippendale types, but classical dancers like me,” Dmitri chortled. “Cyril said he gets hard and jerks off at ballet shows,”

“Really?”

“Did you see him at the club tonight?” Dmitri asked.

Andrew’s smile died. “Sash was at the club?”

“Creep just sat there watching you, like, the whole time,” Dmitri shivered. “Serial. He’s so fucking ugly. You know, he’s going to tell Niko he saw us,”

“Let him. All Niko does anyway is sit around watching porn.” Andrew rolled onto his side and pressed his lips to Dmitri’s back. “I’m not a prude. I just hate gay porn,”

“Sometimes, I think men in those films might love each other.” Dmitri pulled Andrew’s arm around him. “You can see it in their eyes,”

“No way. It’s an act. Gays are kings of auto-pilot sex,” Andrew said. “Hurting each other is the sport of champions with faggots,”

“That’s hateful,” Dmitri scolded.

“Hateful but true,” he said.

“Straight women get raped,” Dmitri argued softly, “but they don’t go around thinking all straight men are out to hurt them,”

Andrew’s eyes opened. “I didn’t say all gay men are out to hurt you?”

“I mean, some straight victims become lesbians.” Dmitri sat up and began babbling. “They recover and realize that just because something bad happened doesn’t mean they need to change their sexual preference.”

Andrew stared at his outline in the dark.

“I’ve never met a rape victim personally,” Dmitri added.

Andrew reached above his head and yanked down the pillowcase covering his window. The city lights brought Dmitri into focus, his thick black locks like a cowl around his head.

“Why are we talking about rape?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” said Dmitri.

“Then change the fucking subject, please,” Andrew said.

Dmitri moved over him and pressed his gin-soaked tongue into Andrew’s lips. He didn’t resist, kissing him back as their bodies ground together. Then, as Andrew’s eyes adjusted, his sobriety took hold.

“We can’t do this,” he said, coming up for air.

Dmitri pouted. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to,” he said.

Dmitri grabbed him. “Your cock wants to,”

“My cock likes to write checks that my ass can’t cash,” said Andrew, gently removing the young man’s hand. “Trust me when I tell you, this account is overdrawn,”

“Can’t we just sixty-nine?” he sighed.

Andrew winced. “You sound like Niko,”

Dmitri crawled to the bedside and felt around for his shoes.

“Did I insult you with that one, Dimi?” he asked.

“I’m going to be honest since you’re clearly blind.” Dmitri’s voluminous hair made him sexier, but Andrew still wasn’t sold. “I became friends to hook up with you.”

Andrew turned on the lamp beside his bed.

“Aren’t I too young for you?” he teased, but when Dmitri didn’t respond, he grabbed the young man’s shoe from his hand. “You can’t just be my friend?”

“Serial?” Dmitri frowned. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Are you really this much of a dickhead?” Andrew demanded, smiling. “Come on, Dimi, you’re already screwing my barely-boyfriend,”

“Oh my god, Drew,” Dmitri laughed heartily. “You’re impossible to dislike,”

Andrew turned off the lamp.

“We can dry hump for a bit if you want,”

“I’m a gangbang princess,” Dmitri proclaimed, tossing his other shoe. “Dry humping isn’t going to satisfy me,”

“You’re going to be asleep in ten minutes,” Andrew said, kicking off his pants while Dmitri stood to strip. Under the covers, they pressed their bodies together, giggling like children. After twenty minutes of groping and kisses, both shut their eyes and began snoring.