Dedrus had endured war and torture. Neither compared to the pain he had felt the day that Kinzer left him. Since their split, Kinzer had made every effort possible to keep his distance from Dedrus. Even when Dedrus tracked him down and sent him letters, he never responded. Maybe Kinzer was just following protocol. They weren’t supposed to fraternize with the other members of the Leader’s Allies, but he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t shake Kinzer from his thoughts, his life. Kinzer’s image haunted him. He couldn’t feel the stroke of a customer without immediately comparing the dead, empty interaction with the passionate, sensual one he’d had with Kinzer. He couldn’t wake in the morning without wishing that as he rolled over, there would be his beautiful friend and lover, resting peacefully, wanting just another hour of rest. He couldn’t eat a delicious meal without thinking on all the shit that he and Kinzer had eaten together during the war. If only he could have been with Kinzer, he would have eaten that shit for all eternity.
His heart fluttered with excitement. His mind cluttered with confusion. As much as he wanted to believe otherwise, he knew Kinzer wasn’t there to confess his love. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
“Dedrus, you okay?” Kinzer rested his palms on the stage.
Dedrus shook out of his confusion.
The fall had hurt his back, but he’d be fine. He’d suffered falls from greater heights.
Don’t be obvious. He couldn’t make a scene at the bar. He and Treycore had worked too hard crafting these covers for him to blow them in one night. He pushed his ass in the air and crawled toward Kinzer. As he reached the edge of the stage, he groped his hands along his fuck-me lines, raising his torso until he was face to face with Kinzer. He didn’t say anything. Just stared at him.
“That looked like a pretty serious fall,” Kinzer said.
“Had worse.” He flicked his nipple with his thumb, doing his best to be inconspicuous, although he could only imagine what Treycore was thinking.
Kinzer tucked a dollar in his thigh strap.
“You know why I’m here.”
Dedrus looked around uneasily. He rose on his knees until he was crouching. He twisted his ass toward Kinzer, groping and shaking to the beat.
“Hey,” the regular called from the other side of the stage. “Come back here, Aaron!”
Now is not the fucking time.What is he doing here? What’s happened?
Kinzer’s gaze drifted for a moment. As they returned attention to the dancer, he slid another dollar into Dedrus’s strap. “Janka’s dead.”
Dedrus froze, stopping midstroke.
Janka.
The sound of that name evoked a sting in his chest. It was the name of the higherling that had stolen Kinzer from him so many years earlier. Had it not been for Janka, he would have had Kinzer. They would have been together for all eternity. As much resentment as he still held for Janka, he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by sadness. Janka had been with him since the dawn of creation. They had been friends since before the split between Heaven and Hell. They were childhood friends that had eons of memories together.
“Someone has names,” Kinzer continued.
Dedrus nodded. “I don’t want to be the one to tell Treycore.”
Kinzer threw Treycore a look. Dedrus checked to see how he was reacting.
Treycore would be pissed that Kinzer was violating protocol. Also, being Dedrus’s friend and confidant, he knew how damaged Dedrus had become since Kinzer had left him. He’d tried to force Dedrus to move on, to find new lovers to replace his ache for the fallen, but it never helped.
Treycore stared Kinzer down, but he continued dancing, just like Dedrus. He wrapped a leg around the pole and whirled around.
***
Kid had been eavesdropping on Kinzer’s conversation with the stripper he was calling Dedrus. Who was Janka? And what kind of names were Dedrus and Treycore?
He didn’t question it too much. He was too focused on trying to keep Treycore in sight.
Treycore turned his pink-covered ass toward Kid. He bent backward until he was facing him, his skin tight against his abs, stretching out his shallow belly button. The head of his penis rolled across the bottom ripple in his six-pack.
“Hey, you!” Treycore called out.
Kid looked around to see who the stripper was talking to. Surely, not him.
“You. Come here.”
Kid rose from the chair and approached the stage.
