12

Most never looked past his alabaster skin and inky hair, and that’s how they got hurt.

“Tips were shit today,” he said to his sullen coworker.

The blonde’s name was Drew Celich, and he came with pale blue eyes and pouty lips that reminded Dmitri of a cherub in Renaissance painting. He sat on the bench between their lockers, ignoring him while trading out his dress shoes for a pair of sneakers.

Dmitri sat beside him. “Earth to Drew,”

“You’re eighteen, right?” he asked, suddenly awake.

“Yep, and still at home,” said Dmitri.

“No college?” he asked.

Dmitri sighed. “I was supposed to go to the Classical Arts School.”

Drew regarded him with a start. “CAS, in White Plains?”

“Fuckers,” Dmitri groused with a nod, slamming his locker door shut. “They canceled the summer semester and stuck me in this shit job,”

Drew went quiet, his right sneaker still untied. His blue eyes went gray under the room’s strobe light. The new hire often zoned out during shifts, making him seem unfriendly. Dmitri caught him staring at a handsome patron one day, so an introduction was in order.

“They told us we could restart in the fall. As if they’re doing us a favor by derailing our life schedules.” Dmitri knelt and began tying the boy’s shoe. “I get trying to make amends for canceling after we’ve paid, but that pathetic letter they sent?”

Drew thanked him for tying his laces and then tucked his legs to get clear and rise from the bench. He gathered up his discarded uniform and offered to take Dmitri’s with an open hand.

“Oh, and after guaranteeing us first claim on dorm rooms,” Dmitri draped his dirty trousers over the young man’s arm. “They turn around and cancel the fall semester because of some asbestos in the walls,”

Drew lingered by the linen bin. “I got that notice, too,”

‘Whoa, serial?” Dmitri moved alongside and bumped into him playfully. “We might’ve been in the same graduating class, huh? What were you going for?”

The young man didn’t answer, lost in his thoughts.

“Earth to Drew?” Dmitri pressed.

He flashed that cocky smile. “I play the violin,”

“I’m a dancer,” Dmitri boasted.

“The only classical dancing I ever did was in grade school.” Drew walked back to his locker. “My mom enrolled me in ballet for four years,”

“You should’ve stayed with it,” Dmitri said.

“Hey,” Drew’s soft inflection always came out seductive. “I didn’t know they canceled summer sessions,”

“Serial?” Dmitri asked, wide-eyed. “Out-of-state students got refunded, but we residents are on hold for next year.”

They traded a cool breakroom for the humid night, where the sidewalks teemed with tourists fresh from the mid-town playhouses.

“I’m taking a gap, but I got to work,” Dmitri said with a scowl.

“Working’s not so bad,” he said.

Dmitri walked backward, facing him. “Wow, so I broke the news, huh?”

“It’s cool,” he laughed.

“No,” Dmitri insisted. “I got to make it up to you,”

“You really don’t,” he said.

“My parents are at a wedding reception,” Dmitri said. “And they won’t be back until last call,”

“Not sure if I’m in the mood for the E train,” he said.

Getting this boy to talk, much less committed to going anywhere, was challenging. Dmitri was about to launch a new stratagem when a familiar face appeared on the subway stairs.

Nikola Kravets bounded toward them, no longer the lithe fool Dmitri knew from his time slumming in Brighton Beach. The man’s hair had grown long, and his sleeveless half-shirt displayed newly corded arms and a chiseled waist.

“What is this?” Niko’s brown eyes glowed. “Dimi!”

“Hello, Niko.” Dmitri droned. “Where’d you get money for a token?”

The shorter blond came between them. “You know each other?”

“See you tomorrow, Drew,” said Dmitri, cursing his shit luck.

Niko’s arm draped over Drew’s shoulder, and Dmitri boarded his train with memories of Niko’s cock up his ass.

Dammit—that jerk-off would tell Drew everything.

♪

Dmitri resigned himself to avoiding the blond, a plan that proved difficult after Angie assigned them to the Siberia room.

They’d worked it as a team before, developing a proven system that today suffered with no communication. After clearing tables, Drew cornered him.

“Did I do something to piss you off?”

Dmitri answered, “I just have some things on my mind,”

“I asked for help earlier,” said Drew. “And you just blew me off,”

Dmitri spoke curtly. “How about you relax,”

“You know what,” Drew said. “A zone change will help me relax,”

“Don’t switch floors,” Dmitri pleaded, reaching for him.

“I can’t work with you like this,” he snapped. “You’re being a dick.”

Dmitri followed the annoyed young man to the linen closet.

“You really hang out with those guys in Brighton?”

After a pause, he said, “Is there a problem?”

“I don’t have time to sit and chat about your love life.” Dmitri made to leave the closet. “I got a double shift ahead of me,”

“So do I, but you followed me in here,” Drew said, grabbing some clean tablecloths. “If you and Nikola hooked up once upon a time, get over it and do your job without the drama.”

Dmitri’s gut urged him to leave it alone, but he couldn’t.

“I just, I just thought you were different,”

“I’m not part of their gang,” Drew declared. “I don’t even live in Brighton.”

Clearly, Nikola had kept his mouth shut.

“Those men are parasites,” Dmitri whispered. “Don’t let him talk you into getting them a girl to marry. And whatever you do, don’t get drunk around them,”

Drew softened, surveying the area before pulling him close.

“What happened?” he asked.

“The man I was seeing turned out to be a criminal.” Dmitri chose his words carefully. “Just ask Niko what he does for a living,”

“I don’t care what he does for a living,” Drew leaned against the wall, his airy voice comforting. “I’m not that emotionally invested.”

Dmitri felt giddy, thinking that Drew might be a full-metal slut like him.

“Tell him to meet you on the corner and not out front,” he said. “If my brother sees him, he’ll jump to conclusions, and my parents will make me quit.”

Drew’s blue eyes widened. “What the hell happened?”

“Long story, not enough time to tell it,” said Dmitri.

♪

Morning became afternoon while slogging through a hectic double shift.

It was a packed house for lunch, and he and Drew covered each other’s tables when needed. After the midday crowd thinned, an older gentleman in thick glasses planted himself in a round corner booth. Clad in a white linen suit, he took meetings late into the afternoon with a revolving door of guests, all eager to impress.

Through tea refills, Dmitri learned the man was a Broadway director, and his visitors were writers looking to get their works produced.

Ten minutes before their shift ended, the tired man called the boys over and proclaimed them the prettiest twinks in Manhattan. Always quick, Drew placed three chocolate mints on the man’s bill and thanked him for the compliment.

The total came to one hundred eighty, and after the man paid with a credit card, he left two fifty-dollar bills on the table.

Like clockwork, Niko stood outside awaiting Drew, but this time, he brought Cyril.

Three years hadn’t changed Dmitri’s aging sweet bun. Thin hair capped his perfectly round head, each graying strand trimmed above the ears. Affectionate eyes regarded him through thick-lensed spectacles.

“It’s been a long time,” said Cyril, his thin lips stretched. “How are you?”

“You should speak English,” Dmitri teased. “This is the United States,”

“What’s going on?” asked Drew.

“Did you use him too?” Dmitri demanded in Polish.

Cyril stared at the ground. “No one used you,”

“Unbelievable,” said Dmitri, eyes rolling.

Cyril moved closer, and the scent of his aftershave tickled Dmitri’s cock.

“How are you, Dimi?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Dmitri said, desperate to touch him.

“What occurred with the others,” he said, reaching out. “It means nothing.”

Rage crept up on Dmitri’s heart.

“You talk as if I instigated what happened,”

“Don’t shout,” Cyril whispered.

“Are you telling me how to speak?”

“Let’s not talk on street,” said Cyril in broken English.

“I have nothing to say to you,” Dmitri spat, then spoke Polish. “My family told me you were a criminal, and I told them they were wrong.”

Cyril’s mouth turned down before a creped hand moved close enough to caress his face. Though he longed to feel its softness, Dmitri recoiled.

“You broke me,” he hissed.

Cyril’s face became stone. “You were broken long before me,”

Dmitri laughed, ignoring Drew as he walked to the station. Thoughts of his last night in Brighton made Dmitri wonder if the old man was right. He was broken long before those men got hold of his body.

Raised voices ebbed his fugue. Far down the platform, an angry Drew descended the stairs with Niko.

“We have plans,” the tall oaf pleaded.

“No,” said Drew. “You had a plan and carried it out,”

Niko growled in frustration. “Fuck me, come on,”

“You had no right bringing Cyril here,” Drew growled.

Dmitri hid behind a group as the old man joined the bickering couple.

“You don’t know situation,” said Cyril. “Dmitri and I, we loved. If not for his family, we be together.”

Dmitri smiled behind his hand.

“You could’ve asked if he wanted to see you.” Drew’s anger ceased when addressing the older man. “Do you know how this makes me look? It looks like I set him up.”

“No anger at Niko,” Cyril said. “He is good friend to me, Andrej,”

Drew stepped into his open arms for a long hug. After this, Cyril climbed the stairs, leaving Niko to Drew’s anger.

“I’m sorry,” said Niko. “I didn’t know you were friends with Dimi,”

“Don’t pull crap like this again, understand?” he snapped.

“Okay. I promise you.” No doubt, Niko lied through his perfect white teeth, and when he tried to take Drew’s hand, it got slapped away.

“It’s too hot,” said the blonde, marching toward the stairs. “Don’t follow me.”

Niko stood alone on the platform, an abandoned puppy whose master found him a nuisance.

Dmitri stepped up behind him. “You’re wasting your time,”

Niko slowly turned. “Shut up, you whore,”

“Whore?” Dmitri laughed. “You sound so pathetically hetero,”

“You know I’m not hetero,” Niko leered.

Dmitri slinked into his space. “Prison gave you some muscle,”

“Glass Eye is at the place,” Niko smirked.

Dmitri retreated. “I had nothing to do with Sash,”

“You had everything to do with it,” Niko accused. “It’s why Cyril fed you to us,”

“You think he set me up?” Dmitri laughed. “That’s adorable.”