by Andrew Grey
“Just go with it.” Harry stroked his own cock hard and fast, pushing himself to catch up with the revving engine that was Tristan, his Tristan. “I love you, and I want to watch you come while you’re inside me.” Tristan’s eyes widened, and his strokes grew ragged. Harry knew the instant Tristan tumbled over the edge. His mouth fell open, and his breath hitched. He gasped and then thrust wildly, deep and hard. Then he stilled, arched his back, shook slightly, and cried out loud and long. “Harry!”
Never had his name sounded more musical or incredibly magical than when Tristan screamed it in the throes of passion. He’d always considered his name rather ordinary, but from now on, his name would sound amazing and almost sacred whenever it crossed Tristan’s lips.
Tristan held still, and Harry continued stroking his fat cock, harder, faster—he needed it so bad, and just as he was reaching the top, Tristan knocked his hand away and took over. Fuuucck, what a difference someone else’s hand made versus his own. He groaned and whimpered, sitting right on the edge until Tristan tightened his grip and plunged him into sweet oblivion.
FOR THE next few hours, after a cleanup, cuddling, and soft words that went right to Harry’s heart, they napped until an alarm went off. In this particular case it was Butterscotch outside the door, making enough noise to wake the dead.
“Just let her in,” Tristan said. “This is her house, and I can’t expect you to lock her up whenever I come over.”
“But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Harry said as he rolled over.
“As if the yowling isn’t doing that.” Tristan pulled up the covers to his chin, and Harry stifled a laugh. He got out of the bed and opened the door. Butterscotch raced in and bounded onto the bed. She pranced on the covers, nosing around.
“That’s enough. Tristan isn’t used to you, so you need to be nice,” Harry said as he got back into bed and tugged Tristan to him. Tristan watched every move the cat made. “Lie down, you beast,” Harry said, and Butterscotch turned, flashed her rear end, and then pranced on top of Tristan before curling into a ball by his knees and blinking back at him. “Be good.”
“Harry, is she going to stay like that?” Tristan whispered.
“Probably. As long as you don’t move, she won’t.”
“But what’s she doing, getting ready to pounce?”
“No.” Harry chuckled. “She’s made a nest, and she’ll go to sleep. She likes you, or she wouldn’t sleep near you. Cats will not sleep next to people they don’t like. I think she knows you’re afraid of her, and she’s telling you not to be.” Harry hoped that was the case. He was probably laying it on a little thick, but Tristan had actually allowed Butterscotch on the bed without bolting. “Please, just relax. I promise I’ll never let anything happen to you.” He sighed. “I could try to find a home for her.”
“Harry,” Tristan snapped. “You will not. This is her home, and I’m…. You would do that? No, you can’t. But you would?”
“Yes, I would. I’d miss her, but if it would make you more comfortable, I’d try to find a good home for her.”
“No, I’m the one with the problem, and you aren’t going to give her away just because I’m afraid of cats.” Tristan shifted to look at Butterscotch, who blinked at him and then lowered her head out of sight. “I’m not mean, just chicken.”
“No, you aren’t. She’s only been there a few minutes, and you’re already relaxing. Nothing is going to happen.”
“But what if she decides to take her claws to me or eat me while I’m sleeping?” Tristan asked.
“First thing, she was declawed when I got her, so she doesn’t have front claws, and second, she isn’t going to eat or attack anything except her food bowl. She just wants some attention.” Harry quieted. “Listen, she’s purring. See? That means she’s happy.”
“Okay,” Tristan whispered.
“Do you think you can relax a little? We don’t need to be at the club for an hour yet.”
“Don’t we need to be there when it opens?” Tristan lifted his head and looked over him. “Doesn’t the club open at nine tonight? It’s after eight and….”
“It’s all right. We don’t need to be in a hurry.” Harry shifted closer to Tristan. Butterscotch huffed slightly. “He’s mine, so be good, you beast.”
“Do you always talk to her?”
“Yeah. I’ve lived alone for quite a while, and for the longest time she was all I had to come home to.” Harry remembered that Tristan didn’t really live here. Tristan was only staying until it was safe for him to go back to his apartment. That should be soon, and then once again it would just be him and the cat. He wanted to broach the subject of something… better… more permanent, but it was probably way too soon for that. They had been… well, sleeping together for only a few days. It didn’t mean that Tristan wanted to move in with him. Rushing into things wasn’t a very good idea.
“I guess I can understand that. I’ve had roommates for the past few years, so there’s usually someone else around. It’s nice. Kevin is a good roommate, if a little anal about some things.”
“Oh?” Harry asked, intrigued.
“He has this thing about the bathroom. Everything has to be in its place, and he hates to see… evidence that someone else has been there.” Tristan giggled. “Like spatters on the mirror or—” He giggled again. “I swear there are times I want to use the bathroom at the service station down the street. It would be easier.”
Harry let loose with a full-on belly laugh. “You have to be kidding.”
“Nope. It’s the way he is. But he’s great about keeping cleaning stuff around, and the bathroom always smells April fresh.” He shook his head. “I suppose there are worse things, like living with a total slob. I haven’t had to do that since my freshman year of college.” Tristan giggled once again. “I swear Griff opened his bags the day he moved in, everything went everywhere, and we didn’t see the floor again near his bed until the day he moved out. So after that, I can take a few extra cleaning minutes.”
“I guess.” Harry held Tristan tighter, closing his eyes. He didn’t want to move. This was too perfect. They had nothing to do, and it was really kind of fun doing nothing at all in bed. He looked at the clock once again and groaned. “I suppose we better get up and going, or Bull will start to wonder if something happened to me. Do you want to go in with me or stay here? I know you have to work in the morning.”
“I’ll go in with you. Maybe if it’s okay, I can lie down in the office later.” The dark circles under Tristan’s eyes told Harry he would most likely take advantage of that.
“Of course.” Harry gathered Tristan to him and held him for a few seconds. Then reluctantly he released him and hurried to the bathroom to clean up. He was in the shower a few minutes later when the curtain slid to the side, and Tristan stepped in behind him.
“This isn’t a good idea,” he whispered to himself.
“We need to hurry, and I need to clean up. Besides, after what we did, I think my legs and willy are made of pudding right now.” Tristan grabbed the soap and began getting clean, but soon they were taking turns, and Harry’s dick stood up and took notice. He told it there wasn’t time, but Tristan took him in hand, stroking him until his head threatened to blow off. Finally, they rinsed and stepped out, then hurried to dress.
Tristan finished first, and Harry followed a few minutes behind. When he went downstairs, he heard water running and then the unmistakable clink of dry cat food in the dish.
“I fed Butterscotch.” Tristan smiled, and they hurried for the door and out to the car.
Part of him began to think things were actually going to be all right. Harry knew it was stupid, but he kept thinking that this whole Tristan and Butterscotch thing was some sort of omen. He shook his head at the thought. He’d never believed in that sort of thing, but Tristan making an effort to like his cat even though he was afraid of it said a lot. Tristan really did like him. A guy didn’t try to work through and put aside a primal fear
for someone unless he really cared.
“Is it dumb to think that things might get better?” Tristan asked as they headed for downtown.
“Of course they’ll get better. The police are going to get Eddie, and that will be the end of it, and this time he won’t be going anywhere.” Harry was pretty sure of that, but Eddie had reach, more reach than a simple drug peddler, and the fucker was crafty and a real piece of shit.
They crossed the bridge over the river, lights from the city shimmering on the moving water. “What’s your family like?” Tristan asked, turning to him.
“Don’t have much of one. You know the people in this area. They can be nice, but they’re really conservative. When I told my parents I was gay, it seemed like no big deal. They didn’t yell or anything, they just didn’t talk about it. But….” He pulled up at the traffic light and stopped. “We grew apart. My dad died, and my mom….” Harry shrugged. “She found solace in religion. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but my ‘choice of lifestyle,’ as she puts it, along with my business, don’t fit into her belief system.” Harry had long ago accepted that his mother wasn’t going to change her mind. She had her beliefs, and as time passed, she became more and more entrenched. It really wasn’t worth talking about or getting upset over any longer. He was an adult, and so was she. But it hurt.
“Do you see her?” Tristan asked.
“Sometimes. She has her life, and I have mine. It seems to work best for the two of us.” What the hell else could he do?
“It seems kind of sad,” Tristan said. “But I understand it. My parents live down in York and don’t know how to take me either. They didn’t disown me or anything, but… they don’t understand. I was raised Catholic, and they know I’m gay, but we never talk about it. Sort of our own version of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.”
“Do you ever visit them?”
“Yeah. I haven’t in a few weeks, but I was wondering if you’d come visit with me the next time I go?” Tristan chewed on his lower lip nervously, and Harry was about ready to howl for joy. Instead, he smiled.
“I’d be happy to,” he said.
“I don’t know what kind of reception we’re going to get. Things could get mighty cold for July.”
“We’ll risk it.” Harry reached across the console between the seats and took Tristan’s hand. He’d risk just about anything right now.
The light changed, and he continued the drive to the club, then parked in the lot, making sure all the lights were working. As he walked toward the back door of the club, Harry glanced around and reminded himself to have Bull’s team watch the parking lot as well. That could be the next spot someone might try something. Maybe they should add security cameras out there as well.
“Everything all right?” Tristan asked from beside him.
“I think so.” Harry paused outside the back door. “I have this feeling….”
Tristan moved closer. “Me too. Like something is waiting to happen, and….” Tristan pulled open the door. “Like we’re being watched.”
He went inside, and Harry scanned the parking area again before entering the club. He tried to shake the creepy-crawlies that went up and down his back. He actually shivered once the door was closed and locked behind them.
“We’re about to open,” Bull said by way of greeting as he came out of the office. “I was about ready to send out the troops.”
“We’re fine, but have Spook or someone check out the parking area. It gave us the creeps when we were just out there.” It was hard to describe, but he’d learned from Bull to go with his instincts.
“Will do. It should be quiet tonight—Sundays usually are—but remember what we talked about earlier and keep your ears open. Clubs are hotbeds of gossip, and someone could know more than they are supposed to.”
“Okay,” Tristan said.
“Zach is out front with Jeremy and Kevin,” Bull told Tristan, and he hurried out to meet his friends. When he was out of earshot, Bull said to Harry, “I’m expecting trouble tonight. I really don’t know why, particularly.”
“It’s no wonder, after the night and day we had. I’m jumpy as hell,” Harry told him. “And I’m worried about Tristan. What if this whole thing is about more than turf or his affections?”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing. This isn’t about that. It’s about power. Eddie’s some kind of psycho. We saw that at the restaurant the other day, and he’s determined to rule over anyone who crosses his path. That means Tristan, us, the club, even his little section of the police force. Once he’s done that and become as untouchable as possible, he can run his business any way he wants.”
“Isn’t that the goal of most criminal organizations?” Harry asked. “Not that I think Eddie is linked to what we normally think of as organized crime, but maybe that’s what it is. He’s building his own network and sphere of influence.”
“Obviously, and most people aren’t aware of it. He’s most likely been doing it quietly and under everyone’s radar.”
“So what do we do? This doesn’t really change anything for us. We need to keep the people close to us safe and the drugs out of our club. We also want to keep our business and livelihoods safe.”
“You know there’s only one way to do that. Take Eddie out permanently.”
“Yeah,” Harry admitted. “But how do we do that? We’re business owners, not cops, and I need to remind you that keeping a low profile is important. Both you and Spook have done things you don’t want to come to light, especially not with the local police.” Bull had told him some of his past, but definitely not all of it… saying it was for Harry’s safety.
“I know.” Bull shifted from foot to foot in an unusual display of nervousness. “I hate not knowing what to do.”
“I have an idea…. No, it’s really stupid. I was going to suggest shaking things up for Eddie, but that would only escalate the problems. We need him out of the picture, one way or another.”
“We do. Let me think about it.” Bull said as the thump from the beat of the music reached them. “We better get ready to open. It’s going to be a long night.”
“I’ll be right out. I want to check on the cameras and make sure everything is locked and put away in the office, and then I’ll be right out and can act as an extra set of eyes for the night.” Harry hurried away and into the office. He made sure all the cameras were functioning and that the paperwork and cash were locked away in the safe. When he was done, he locked all the doors and returned to the club floor. Patrons were already filing in, heading for the bar and onto the dance floor. Bull was front and center, their best defense, watching and checking out people as they entered.
Sundays were the end of the weekend, so the crowd was usually subdued and lighter than either Friday or Saturday. Tonight seemed as though it was no exception. Harry mingled with the patrons, saying hello as he made his way behind the busy bar. “Where’s your compatriot for the night?” he asked Chuck, who seemed to be alone.
“It’s no problem. Rodney is on his way in. He just called a minute ago and should be here any second.” Chuck turned back to the patrons and returned to filling orders. It hadn’t gotten busy, but it would in the next hour or so.
“Thanks. Let me know if you have any issues.” Harry got out of the way and continued through the room, then took up a place near the office door and simply watched for anything out of the ordinary.
He saw nothing except dancing couples and generally happy faces. A few times he saw minor arguments, but they amounted to nothing and were either patched up or handled by the bouncers. Bull managed his staff efficiently and had trained them in techniques guaranteed to cool off the patrons. A frozen towel was a masterful device and usually meant the bouncers never had to lay a hand on a patron.
Near midnight, Harry saw what he thought might have been sales going on, and he phoned Bull.
“I see it. We’re on our way.”
Harry’s stomach clenched. He smiled at Tristan from across the roo
m and motioned for him to come over. Tristan didn’t see him at first, but eventually he nodded and came over to where Harry was standing.
“Do you know the kid in the aqua shirt and leather pants?” Harry asked. “Is he an associate of your ex?”
“Not that I know of,” Tristan said, shifting his gaze to him and then back to the kid as Bull approached. He spoke a few words to him, and then the bouncers escorted the kid off the dance floor.
Harry felt a little better. He knew Bull would get what information they could from the kid before banning him from the club. He continued watching, gathering Tristan to him, and waited for Bull to return.
“He’s some punk who thought he could make a few extra bucks selling his mother’s prescriptions,” Bull said gruffly as he walked up. “I banned him and threatened to call the police. I thought he was going to piss himself more than once.”
“Okay.” Harry sighed with relief. At least it wasn’t Eddie sending more of his dealers. “I hate this. It feels like I’m waiting for something to happen, and I have no idea what’s next.”
“I know. The bastard has us on the defensive.” Bull turned to Tristan. “Have you guys heard anything? What’s the gossip in the club?”
“Nothing about today, other than a few people wondering why things seem different. They don’t seem to be able to put their finger on what it is, though. Chances are it will be in the police report in the paper, so their questions will be answered at least to a degree. They are talking about some guy who is apparently going to propose to his boyfriend tonight when the DJ plays a particular song. It’s supposed to be a surprise, but of course everyone knows except him.” Tristan grinned. “The gayboy network is more efficient sometimes than the NSA.”
“You don’t know who it is? Then how can you keep from telling him?” Harry asked, shaking his head.
“I’m not a gossip. I’d never tell anyone, except the people I know.” Tristan stared at him as though what he’d just said was perfectly logical. “Sheesh.”
