I do not own Will & Grace, thank you

It is a quarter till five when Jack saunters into Will's apartment. He's wearing a tight designer top and skinny jeans, looking over the other two. Will is back to wearing women's jeans, though his shirt is neither tight nor designer. He's standing in the kitchen, making some sort of sauce. Grace is already (or still) in her pajamas, sitting at the table and flipping through magazines as she awaits her dinner.

"Will!" He admonishes. "I thought you were coming with me to Sea Breezy."

Will shakes his head. "I'm not in the mood for that."

"It's a gay nightclub, Will! You're aging faster than I thought!"

Will rolls his eyes. "Or you're just getting more immature."

"Whatever, Loser." Jack scoffs, making the hand gestures.

Not long after, Jack is dancing against three other people to Christina Aguilera song Dirrty. At each song change, Jack meets another guy – either on the dance floor or at the bar. As he makes his way down a line, seven different men hand over their names and numbers writ on used napkins. In the midst of a chaotic dance-off, a man wearing a sleeveless letterman's jacket walks up and asks if he can buy Jack a drink. Grinning like a fool, Jack accepts.

"Why don't we take this party out back?" Letterman suggests, nudging Jack away from the bar.

"You got it, Sailor." Jack winks flirtatiously.

Jack wobbles a bit as he grabs his bag and heads to the back of the building. Before the door can close, the stronger of the two lifts the other against a brick wall. Jack winces upon impact, but he quickly has other things on his mind as Letterman shoves his tongue down Jack's throat. Jack lets out a strangles surprised yelp when the tougher man dives his hand down Jack's pants and grips his penis. He gives it a firm, almost painful grasp as he moves away from Jack's face with a nasty smirk written on his own.

"Want more, do you, Cockslut?"

Startled by the vulgarity, Jack ultimately decides to ignore it in favor of more attention. Letterman removes his hand and suckerpunches Jack so that he falls to his knees.

"Beg for it, bitch."

Not liking the abrasiveness, Jack begins to cry. "P-Please, stop."

Letterman doesn't seem to like this sort of begging. He instead kicks Jack's stomach so that he doubles over in pain. The older man then pulls Jack to his wobbling feet and slams him against the brick wall again. Instead of experiencing a snake slithering into his mouth, Jack finds his pants becoming undone. He tries to swat away the hands, but through the drinking, he seems to be losing consciousness. His pants are on the ground quicker than he'd like. Rain starts to sprinkle on them, but it doesn't slow down Letterman. He shoves his own pants down, exposing his erection. He grinds roughly into Jack whose head repeatedly hits the wall behind him. Letterman bites Jack's bottom lip, drawing blood. He then shoves Jack to the alley floor and pulls out a pocketknife. Jack scrambles to find his bag. Letterman wraps a hand around Jack's throat to strangle him slightly, so he won't call for help. With the other hand, Letterman begins to pump Jack's penis as he grinds his erection raw into his ass. Jack cries freely, but his hand grabs the one object that may help him. With a quick twist, Jack pulls out his Ricco Vicious hairspray and aims for Letterman's eyes. Jack stumbles out of the alley in only his tighty whiteys. He desperately hails a cab and all but falls into the seat.

"Where to, drunkie?" The driver asks.

"P-P-Police station…" Jack answers. "Please help me."