PROLOGUE
East Compass lifted the bottle to his lips and took a long enough pull of his beer to finish it, then slammed it back on the bar. He didn’t mean to slam it, but the volume of alcohol diluting his blood made the coordination he needed for normal limb movement a thing of the past. He moved the bottle aside and grabbed another one from the small metal tub, then twisted the cap off, and took a long drag of that one too.
He had walked out of the precinct a couple of hours ago, fresh off shift, and grabbed his partner Shane’s shoulder, to guide him down the street towards the bar. They just finished a three day run of twelve hour shifts, and going for a couple of drinks was tradition. This night however, had spiralled into something more than their usual burgers and beers event.
After the waitress cleared their empty plates, Shane had tried to ask for the bill, but East waved him off and asked for a bucket of beers instead.
“So, you cut your hair because Sally dumped you?” Shane said, and he grabbed a bottle from the tub too.
“No,” East said, as he ran a hand over his newly shaved head. It wasn’t shaved completely, but it was a tight enough cut that he could just about run his fingers through it. When he turned up on shift a few days ago, with the new haircut, everyone had teased him, but he ignored their wolf whistles and catcalls, knowing if he reacted they’d only get louder. “I just…felt like a change.”
“It’s a classic move,” Shane said with a chuckle as he sipped his beer.
“What?”
“After you get dumped, you make a change.”
“I didn’t get dumped.”
“I thought Sally dumped you for your older brother,” Shane said, and East rolled his eyes as he tipped his head back and finished his beer.
“That’s not how it happened,” East grumbled.
“So, she’s not dating North?”
“She is.”
“And she didn’t dump you to do it?”
“No!”
“So, you’re still dating her too?”
“No, Jesus!” East cursed, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sally and North are great together. She didn’t dump me, we broke up.”
“Ah. technicalities.” Shane sipped his beer and East felt him looking in his direction. “So, after a break up, it’s very common to make some drastic changes. You cut off all those beautiful locks.”
“Shut up, dickhead,” East muttered as he grabbed another beer. “I’m happy for them, I really am.” He meant it too. He’d seen North and Sally together and they already looked so in love. More in love than he had ever felt for her, or felt from her.
“Tell that to your face.”
East frowned. He looked at Shane and shook his head. “It’s not like that, seriously.”
“So, what’s with the haircut then?”
“Jeez,” East muttered, and ran his hand over his head again. “I cut my hair, big fucking deal.”
“Well, in the seven years since I’ve known you, you’ve had the same curly mop of hair, cut to the same style. Then all of a sudden you shave it to a military style buzz, right after your five year relationship ends. Coincidence?”
“I just fancied a change. What does it matter?”
“It doesn’t matter, not one bit,” Shane said with a soft chuckle, as he emptied his beer with a long pull, then put the empty back into the tub.
“We broke up, and she is with my brother.” East twirled the bottle in his hand around and picked at the edges of the label. “She wasn’t the love of my life and I really am happy for her. For both of them.”
“But…” Shane prompted when East didn’t continue speaking.
East grunted as if he was trying to hold the words back, but they had been bouncing around his head for a while now, and he wanted to get them out, even just to let them loose, so he could think of something else for a change.
“But seeing them together, made me realise that I’ve never felt what they obviously have between them.”
“So?”
“So? What do you mean “so”?”
“I mean, you’re only what…twenty nine? You think you should have it all sewn up by now?” Shane chuckled. “Dude, some people never figure it out, some figure it out early, some people take their time.”
East huffed and looked at the empty tub of beers. But just when he contemplated ordering another one, Shane slid off his stool and fished his wallet out of his back pocket.
“You’ll find yours,” Shane muttered as he put a few bills on the bar and grabbed his coat from the hook beneath the seat, then slapped a hand on the back of East’s shoulder. “If you’re staying out, I presume you won’t be up for a run in the morning.”
“I’ll run, I’ll run,” East said with a wave of his hand. “Wilson Park at nine?”
“See you there.”
Shane slapped his shoulder again and East leaned forward a little to take the brunt of the hit. He watched his friend leave and looked back at the empty tub. He didn’t fancy getting another one on his own, knowing he certainly wouldn’t be available for a run in the morning if he did. So he topped up what cash Shane had left on the bar and grabbed his jacket.
He walked out onto the street and looked both ways. His apartment was only a couple of blocks away from here, but he didn’t fancy going home to turn on crappy tv and sip crappy beers. He slipped his jacket on but left it open. It was the beginning of summer, and the chill wasn’t quite gone from the air, but it was warm enough to stroll without the worry of getting a chill.
He slipped his hands into his pockets and turned in the opposite direction of home, with no real destination in mind. Most of the bars in the centre of town had open patios, with music as well as chatter from lively crowds, but none of them appealed. He didn’t want to sit in the quiet. He didn’t want to sit in a crowd. He didn’t know what he wanted.
A couple, leaning against the alcove into a store, were getting amorous and his cop instinct kicked in to get them to move along before their hands got too busy and they crossed the line into indecent exposure, but he wasn’t in uniform and was off duty so he kept walking.
Two women sitting on a bench by a bus stop were holding hands and whispering between giggles and he felt his heart clench. He hadn’t shared a giggle like that with anyone before and craved the closeness. He averted his eyes and kept walking, but shoved his hands deeper in his pockets and clenched his fists.
He walked the streets around the edges of town, lost in what he was searching for, and slowed down when he heard the low rhythmic beat of music coming from a nondescript partially open door. He paused on the street and looked around. The door was plain black and the walls around it equally plain. There was no signage other than a small neon icon East didn’t recognise.
It looked like a circle with two short arrows coming out at the top left and top right sides and a plus sign at the bottom. It was no bigger than the palm of his hand, and there was no text to explain what it meant.
East looked back at the door, and reached to pull it open further when it was pushed past his hand and flung wide open. He stumbled back as a large bearded man wearing a plain white tea with black collar and cuffs, and a tight pair of faded blue denim jeans walked out.
“Sorry man, didn’t see you there,” the man said, and stepped aside as he held open the door. “Let me get that for you.”
East muttered thanks as he stepped by with a wave of his hand. He walked through a narrow dark hallway that was about three feet long, then pushed a heavy velvet curtain aside only to find himself in a bar.
It looked the same as all the other bars in town, so he wondered why it didn’t have the open door patio with the crowd spilling onto the street. There was a DJ stand in the corner, where a muscular man in a wifebeater shirt was playing the heavy hip hop music he could hear from outside, and a small packed dance floor just in front of it. A long bar ran the length of the room, and there were some standing tables, seated tables, and booths taking up the rest of the space.
It was pretty full but East shimmied through the crowd and slipped onto a stool on the corner of the bar. He slipped off his jacket and draped it over the back of his stool, then jerked his chin at the barman who sidled up in front of him and slung a white bar towel over his shoulder.
All the staff seemed to be dressed in some variation of the same uniform. Black slacks, white shirt, black waistcoat. Some of them had torn the sleeves off their shirts, some of them didn’t wear the shirts at all, but all of them carried the same white hand towel, slung over their shoulders, over their forearms, tucked into the front of their trousers or the back. This barman was kitted out in the full uniform, trousers, shirt waistcoat, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow, showing off an impressive intricate tattoo on one arm. He had a tight fade cut, with a loose quiff of hair, that seemed to threaten to move into his eyes but never did.
“What can I get you, buddy?”
“A beer, whatever you got on draft,” East said, as he grabbed his wallet and put twenty dollars on the bar.
“You got it.” The barman grabbed a pint glass and filled it from the tap, then put a coaster in front of East and placed his drink on it. He grabbed the twenty, pressed some buttons on the till, then slid the change onto the bar beside his drink.
“Thanks,” East said.
“No problem,” the barman said with a smile, and East watched his eyes roam down the top of his body, as much as he could see, before he winked and walked away.
East picked up his drink and sipped it slowly. He’d never been in this bar before, and as a cop knew nearly all the bars in town, so it must be brand new. Though the signage looked old he noticed, when he spotted an old poster for a St Patrick’s day celebration, which was held a couple of months ago. He glanced around and watched the crowd moving to the music. It was an eclectic mix of ages and cliques. Some were scantily dressed in revealing clothes, and some wore lumberjack style attire. Others were in jeans and tees, and a small collection wore heavy metal tees, with spiked hair, tattoos, and piercings.
East felt movement beside him, and turned to look in time to see a slender man, with a wide smile, claim the stool next to him. With a quick look, East could see the guy was wearing short shorts, with a ripped back pocket, and a tank top that didn’t quite reach his belly button. East turned back to his drink and picked it up, but the stranger beside him nudged his shoulder with his own to reclaim his attention.
“I haven’t seen you here before,” the stranger said. “I’m Jeremy.” He stuck his hand out and East glanced at it for a second, before he reached for it and shook it with two quick pumps before he released it.
“East.”
“Is that your name or the direction in which you want me to fuck off.”
East chuckled and picked his drink up for another sip. “Name.”
“So, what brings you in here?”
“I was walking by, heard the music, came in for a drink.” East lifted his glass in salute and sipped it again. “Did I need an invitation? Or a secret password?”
Jeremy chuckled and put a hand on East’s bicep, then squeezed it. East looked down at the slender fingers, and ruby red painted nails, and frowned. A gesture like that from a woman meant something in particular, and it was as if turning cogs in his brain finally clicked into place. A realisation filtered through his foggy thoughts, and East glanced around the room again.
Most of the crowd was male, or at least presented that way. There were some women, but they were few in numbers. And when he actually looked, he realised a lot of the men were dancing together, holding hands, whispering, laughing, touching. East pulled his eyes back from the crowd and shook his head with a little laugh. Observation seemed to not be one of his strong skills. This was a gay bar.
He looked back at Jeremy and raised his eyebrows. Was he being picked up right now?
“Sorry,” East said, and picked up his glass again. “Not interested.”
“In me, or in the scene?” Jeremy said, with a nod towards the crowds behind them.
East opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the barman came over and swatted his bar towel at Jeremy and shooed him away.
“Stay back Jeremy, go back to your corner!”
Jeremy laughed, and squeezed East’s bicep, before he slipped off the stool and walked away.
“Sorry about him,” the barman said. “He loves the scent of fresh meat.”
“Huh?”
The barman smiled and put the towel back over his shoulder before he leaned down on one forearm to get closer to East.
“You haven’t been in here before. The queer scene in Boulder is quite tight. We don’t often see new players.”
“Oh, I’m not-” East began to say but the bar man held a hand out to stop him as he straightened up.
“You’re an ally, that’s cool too.”
“Yeah.” East lifted a hand to scratch the back of his neck, and leaned back without looking at the barman. “I gotta go. Thanks man.”
He left the change on the bar, and grabbed his jacket as he slid off the stool and looked around. He saw the exit was one way, but needed to use the restroom first, so he worked through the crowd in search of a toilet. The music was getting louder, and the dancers were getting raunchier. He noticed then someone must have turned the heat up, because more men were topless than he remembered seeing before. He kept his eyes down and squeezed between bodies. There was a door just up ahead and he put his hand out to open it. It was heavier than he expected, and when he leaned into it, it swung open, and he was propelled forward, into an alley between two buildings.
“Shit,” he cursed and turned to open the door and go back in but there was no handle. “Shit.”
East stepped away from the building, and turned his back to the bar, as he looked up and down the alley and put his jacket on. He figured he could hoof it home in time to make it to the bathroom, or stop into one of the many bars on the way if he needed.
“You get lost?”
East looked around and saw the barman standing in the doorway. He had a cigarette in one hand, and a zippo lighter in the other, and East watched as he put the cigarette between his lips, and ran the lighter across his thigh, before he brought it to his face and puffed.
“No, I-”
“Meant to walk out the fire escape?” The barman took another pull from his cigarette, and tipped his head back to release smoke into the night air. The music from the bar was muffled but audible, and East felt it do something to his chest. Was it the bass he could feel in his sternum, or something else seizing his whole chest?
“I was looking for the restroom, got turned around.”
The barman smiled and took a step closer. East held his ground and watched. He had the cigarette down by his side and his other hand in his pocket. Without the barrier of the bar, East could tell the barman was taller than him by a couple of inches, and had broader shoulders, that topped a muscular chest, to a narrow waist, and long thick thighs.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” the barman asked, his voice low and gruff, barely above a whisper, but he was so close now, that East knew he would be able to hear him even if he was whispering.
“I-”
East started to speak, but before he could get the words out, the barman snagged the side of East’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. East’s whole body went still. He had his hands by his sides, and the second the barman's lips touched him, his hands seized up into tight fists, and his mind went blank.
The barman moved his hand from East’s neck, to the back of his head, to cup it, so he could tip to the side, moved his own the other way, then opened his lips and swept his tongue into East’s mouth. The warm, wet sensation of another man’s tongue in his mouth was so different from any kiss he had shared before. The strong hand at the back of his head, the solid body leaning into his chest, the thick hard thigh that had worked its way between East’s legs, and the unmistakable stiff cock that was pressed into his own growing erection.
East thought he was frozen, but then he realised his hands were on the barman’s chest. He thought he was going to push him away, but instead his hands curled into the lapels of his shirt and pulled the barman closer. He thought he needed to escape, but then he moved his tongue against the barman’s and felt the vibration of his moan reverberate back into his mouth, and slip down his spine to tighten his balls.
When did kisses ever have this effect on him? When did they make him go weak at the knees, and make him forget he was standing in an alleyway, behind a gay bar, where anyone could see? When did…
East lost the ability to think, when the barman gripped his ass and pulled him into his grinding crotch, and East moaned into his kiss. The sound emanating from the centre of his own chest was enough to shake his brain free of whatever lust filled trip it was on.
The hands that had been holding on minutes ago were now pushing, and he moved his head to break the kiss. The barman kept his body close, and continued to move his hips in a slow rhythmic motion, until East grabbed the barman’s waist and pushed him back enough to break full contact.
He closed his eyes and took a minute to gather his breath, then opened them to see the barman standing close by, with both hands in his pockets and a crooked satisfied smile on his face.
“Sorry,” East said, as he rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth. “That’s not my scene.”
The barman lifted one shoulder in a half shrug and continued to smile.
“Well, when you figure out what is your scene, look me up.”
The barman winked, then turned back to the bar, kicked the wooden door stop away, and walked inside. The door slowly closed after him with a resounding slam, and East fell back against the wall with a deep sigh.
“What the fuck was that,” he muttered, and covered his face with both hands.
He could still feel the barman’s body against his own, and the minty smokey taste of his mouth. He figured the barman must have been chewing gum before he had that cigarette, then shook his head, and rubbed his hands vigorously up and down his face before he placed two palms on the wall and pushed away. He fixed his trousers around his hard dick and hurried home.
