15

Samil warned him, but Andrew hadn’t listened.

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

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

“I was with my brother and a friend,”

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

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

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

“Of course not,” Dmitri said. “Could you see my mother? She’d have an enormous fit if I entered the house with another old 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?”

Dmitri cooed, close enough now that their arms touched.

“And I’d say, no, we’re not dating,” Andrew went on, “it’s only high school,”

Dmitri laughed, and he marveled at his talent for deception.

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

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

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

“Wait up,” Dmitri said, following him through the dining room. “Are you okay?”

No, he wasn’t okay; the crack in the stall door had revealed too much. Niko’s large hands pinned Dmitri’s fingers against the metal wall, his face twisted as his hips shoved against Dmitri’s pale, narrow ass.

Andrew pushed through the front doors, determined to walk instead of taking the subway. Behind him, Dmitri raised his hands to the sky.

“It’s a gorgeous day,” he yelled.

Andrew kept moving as Dmitri appeared alongside.

Block after block found strangers exchanging pleasantries after a long and tedious summer, and food carts afforded aromas intense enough to blunt the asphalt stink.

The sun-soaked breeze lured him to the Prometheus fountain at Rockefeller Center, its stone surround feeling rough through his jeans.

Dmitri plopped down beside him.

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

“No,” said Andrew. “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 for the first time in hours. “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.”

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

“I used to drive Cyril’s car when they cruised neighborhoods,” Dmitri chuckled. “They went as far as Delaware, looking for these large, expensive houses for sale. Once Cyril found a place, he’d bring Sash, Radek, and Niko.”

Andrew listened intently.

“If Sash decided the score was worth it, they’d send Konrad or Tadeusz 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. Sash had a Mercedes back then, and he didn’t like me driving it,”

Andrew’s stomach turned.

“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 grinned as he spoke. “Tadeusz and Cyril cleaned out the safes because they knew how, while Konni, Sash, and the others acted like movers lugging expensive shit onto the truck.”

Dmitri met Andrew’s stare.

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

“How many of these heists did you do?” asked Andrew.

“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.”

Dmitri did nothing because he loved it.

“I got scared after Sash and Miro bought guns with their profits,” he 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 was a thief, not a killer.”

Andrew stood, and Dmitri rose with him.

“How did you get Sash deported?” he asked.

Dmitri reacted as if slapped across the face.

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

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

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

Andrew’s eyes widened.

“If Niko says that Sash is on a job,” said Dmitri. “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 demanded. “I don’t give a shit about Niko or Sash,”

This wasn’t a lie; he realized, after witnessing Niko and Dmitri fucking in the bathroom stall, that if he genuinely cared, he’d have confronted Niko. All he felt, however, was relief.

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

Dmitri brightened. “Anywhere you want,”

“Anywhere I want?”

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

“Had enough of him, have you?”

“What does that mean?” Dmitri asked.

♪

Andrew lost himself in a club that played disco until midnight.

Weed-heavy air washed away his pain as he swayed to Donna Summer singing about getting lucky. The occasional uninvited hand found him on the dance floor, and he remedied the unwanted touch by moving his sensual bubble to another part of the dance floor.

Sober enough to change the venue, they returned to Saint Mark’s with some liquor, and once his betrayed feelings found their place, Andrew enjoyed what became his best night in years.

They drank and gamed well past midnight, and a very drunk Dmitri began talking about his current fifty-something boyfriend. William worked for a Williamsburg bank, a laughable factoid. He would be transferring to Daly City in California, and the man offered to take him along.

Dmitri wondered if he should try out for the Berkeley School of Dance.

Andrew was sober enough to advise that he couldn’t see the point of such a permanent move for someone Dmitri had only known for six months.

Dmitri eventually turned the TV off and, lying side-by-side in Andrew’s bed, deep in the lull of the liquor, his hand found Andrew’s arm in the dark.

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

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

Dmitri became quiet. “How is Radecki?”

“He’s been getting it on with Samil since I met them,” he said, chuckling. “You can hear them fucking all through the place,”

“I don’t know much about Sam-Sam,” Dmitri revealed. “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,”

“Tadeshi is a scumbag,” said Dmitri.

“How do you really feel about him?”

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 girl from Iowa,”

“What happened to her?”

“She wanted two thousand dollars to marry him, but he only paid her about a hundred because she ran up the phone bill, and their phone got shut off.” 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, I’m listening.”

“I’m not ashamed,” he 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 cannot imagine Cyril having sex,” he said.

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

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

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

“Not them in particular,” he confessed. “More like, what’s it like 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 his arm as the young man beside him elaborated.

“It was a little scary with all of them pawing at me,” Dmitri whispered. “Once all those dicks came out, though, my genie left the fucking bottle,”

Andrew brought his arm up and behind his head.

“Listen, I regret nothing,” Dmitri added.

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

“Exactly.” Dmitri’s laugh 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,” he chuckled.

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

Andrew rested his forearm on Dmitri’s back.

“I’ll never do it again,” he added. “You ever do anything that would put you in slut-jail, Drew?”

“A few things, I guess,” said Andrew.

“No way.” Dmitri’s chin pressed into his ribs. “I just can’t see it.”

“How do you prepare your ass for a gangbang?” Andrew asked.

“Very carefully, but I always bottom, so I try to prep a couple of days a week.” Dmitri rose on his elbow again, and from where his long hair fell, Andrew could tell 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 there once.” After a beat, he added, “With a condom on it,”

“Oh my God,” Dmitri said gently.

“It was scary at first,” he whispered, unable to stop the words. “He wanted to hurt me.”

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, please,”

“Okay. Ask me something new,” Dmitri murmured.

“Tell me about Niko,” said Andrew. “I know you screwed him.”

The bed rocked as Dmitri sat on his knees.

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

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

Andrew suddenly felt no guilt, envisioning Dmitri surrounded by a group of thugs with dicks in their hands.

“You ever fuck Glass Eye?” he asked.

“Ew, no.” Dmitri plopped back down beside him. “Which is weird since he loves dancers. Not the Chippendale types, but classical dancers like me. Cyril said he gets hard at ballet shows,”

“Really?” said Andrew, smiling.

“Did you see him at the club tonight?”

Andrew’s smile died. “No,”

“He stood there watching you, like, the whole time.” Dmitri laughed. “You know, he’s going to tell Niko,”

“Let him. All Niko does 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 most 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,”

“It’s an act for most of them. Gays are kings of auto-pilot sex,” said Andrew. “Hurting each other is the sport of champions,”

“That’s hateful,” Dmitri scolded.

“Hateful but true,” Andrew countered.

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

Andrew’s eyes opened. “I didn’t say that about gay men,”

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

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” he asked.

“I’ve never met a rape victim personally,” Dmitri rambled. “I just watch lots of Oprah.”

“Why are we talking about rape?” Andrew felt 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. Dmitri moved over him, pressing his gin-soaked tongue between Andrew’s lips. Their bodies ground together, but Andrew’s eyes adjusted, and his senses returned.

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

Dmitri pouted. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to,” he said.

Dmitri sassed, “Your cock wants to,”

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

“Can’t we just sixty-nine?” Dmitri asked.

Andrew winced. “You sound like Niko,”

Dmitri crawled off the bed and felt around for his shoes.

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

“I’m going to be honest since you’re so blind.” Dmitri’s voluminous hair made him sexier. “I became friends to hook up with you.”

Andrew turned on the lamp beside his bed.

“Aren’t I too young for you?” he joked.  When Dmitri didn’t respond, Andrew grabbed his shoe before he could put it on his foot. “You can’t just be my friend?”

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

“Are you really this much of a dick?” Andrew demanded with a smile. “You’re already screwing my barely-boyfriend,”

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

“We can dry hump for a bit,” he said, turning off the lamp.

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

“You’re going to be asleep in ten minutes,” Andrew assured, stripping off his pants.

Under the covers, Dmitri curled around his naked body, giggling like a child. After twenty minutes of intense groping and kisses, both shut their eyes and were soon snoring.