Title: Just the Once
Author: Olivia Sutton
"Snapshots Universe"
Part 2 of 4

FLASHBACK

Marty leant forward, putting his hands lightly on Jeff's shoulders. "Lie down, Jeff, you've had too much to drink, you'll feel better if you lie down and close your eyes."

Jeff nodded, lying down on the bed.

Marty took the duvet and gently covered Jeff, making sure he was comfortable. As he did so, Jeff mumbled something incoherent, then snuggled under the duvet.

"What was that, Jeff?" Marty asked, but Jeff was already asleep.

He took the bottle from Jeff's hand, and hid it in the back of the cupboard, then looked at the bedroom clock - 22.00 - Jeff's timing couldn't have been better. He'd wait just a little longer, to make sure Jeff was asleep, and that he was all right, then he'd change and sneak out to meet Michael at the pub.

Marty waited, anxiously in bed, listening to Jeff, making sure Jeff was asleep and wouldn't notice if he left. Jeff was snoring slightly and deeply asleep, the cider had knocked him out. Marty thought briefly about Jeff, concerned that he had got so, so drunk, for what seemed like no reason at all, but Jeff's drunkenness had also worked in Marty's favour, it was only 10:15 pm and Jeff was well and truly asleep. Marty sneaked to the dresser, grabbed the stack of clothing he'd put on top earlier that evening, and snuck out of the room, closing the door quietly. He slipped into the bathroom and changed, then as quietly as possible he crept down the stairs, grabbing his shoes and a jacket from the hallway, and snuck out the front door. He slipped his shoes on his feet then hurried down the street, his heart pounding as he hurried along in the cold, misty air, lit eerily by streetlamps.

As he walked along towards the high street, he mumbled to himself, "How old are you? Seventeen," and "When were you born? 1960". He practiced over and over until he was sure that the lie would roll easily off his tongue. Then he thought about what he was doing. He had had feelings for the past two or three years, feelings of attraction towards other boys. He'd thought that those feelings had caused Ed to hurt him. But when he had told Beth that, she had said that wasn't the case. And, Marty knew he was attracted to Jeff. He thought he might love Jeff, and love him more than as a friend. But he also knew, he knew that if he were ever to act on those feelings, he couldn't hurt Jeff and he'd have to be prepared. Marty smiled to himself. Michael would know what to do. He'd said in group that he'd been with another man, and Beth had said it was okay. Marty wanted to know, he needed to know what it was like, how it worked. And Michael was an attractive man. Marty licked his lips as the thought of Michael popped in his head. Marty smiled to himself, knowing he would be able to get Michael to show him, well, to show him everything. Then he began rehearsing again, "How old are you? Seventeen. When were you born? 1960."

Marty found the pub Michael had mentioned, and pulled open the door. The pub was smoky, warm and dark, and men with pint glasses in hand walked back and forth between the bar and the booths along the wall, or simply stood talking to people. Marty drew himself up tall, and strode towards the back of the pub.

Michael sat in the booth, a pint of beer before him. He stood when Marty entered.

"Marty, hello there," he said, sliding out of the booth, lightly grabbing Marty's hand, as he stood, "Sit down, and have some beer, I'll get us both something from the bar."

Marty nodded, looking nervous, then he slid into the booth, picked up the beer and drank. The liquid was sour and bitter, and he grimaced, then took another sip. Marty smiled, sliding back against the back of the booth, carefully taking more of the beer, enjoying the feeling of being all grown up, drinking beer and being on his own in a pub.

Michael soon returned, put two smaller glasses on the table, and sat next to Marty. "Marty, drink up, come on, not a baby are you?"

Marty shook his head, raised the glass and drank deeply, emptying half the glass.

Michael reached under the pub table, and lightly laid a hand on Marty's thigh. Marty smiled, dopily, then reached for the beer and finished it. He burped, then covered his mouth, turned to Michael, and whispered in his ear, "I think I... I'd like to kiss you, Michael."

Michael smiled darkly, and moved his hand closer to Marty's groin. "Soon, Marty. But try the other drink, first, eh?"

Marty nodded, pushing the pint glass out of the way and reached for the other glass of amber liquid. He brought it to his lips, and took a deep swallow, then coughed as the whiskey burned his throat. He tried to cover up the cough, taking another smaller sip.

Michael looked around the pub, but no one was watching them, he turned towards Marty, leaned close, then took Marty's earlobe in his mouth and licked and sucked lightly. He was rewarded as he felt a tightness and hardness under his hand in Marty's groin. Marty's eyes crossed, then he turned, blindly reaching for Michael to kiss him.

Michael lightly pushed Marty away, "Not here, Marty. You want to go with me to my flat?"

Marty nodded, then reached for the glass and finished his drink.

Michael nodded, and brought a hand to Marty's hair, lightly touched it, then moved his hand away. He grabbed the other glass of whiskey on the table, taking a deep sip, then offered it to Marty, "Finish it, for me, eh, Marty?"

Marty nodded, taking the glass, and downing the remaining liquor quickly. He slammed the glass back down on the table, then turned to Michael, bending towards his ear, and lightly nibbling the earlobe as Michael had. Then he whispered, "I want to be with you, Michael. Kiss me."

Michael smiled, the said, "Come on, now, let's get you home. Come with me, Marty." Michael slid out of the booth and stood. Marty slid after him, then stumbled as he stepped down from the booth to the pub floor. Michael grabbed his arm and escorted him to the back door of the pub. They went outside and Michael took Marty to his car, urging him into the passenger seat.

They soon reached Michael's flat, and Michael held Marty with one arm, whilst trying to unlock the door. Marty was kissing Michael's face, sloppily, and murmuring, drunkenly.

Michael got the door open, lightly pushing Marty into his flat, then turned and shoved the door closed. He grabbed Marty and lightly pushed him towards the couch. Marty went to the couch and sat, quietly, suddenly nervous.

Michael came and sat next to Marty, "You all right?"

Marty nodded, "Yah," then he turned to Michael and kissed him, right on the lips, clumsily. Michael returned the kiss, then Marty pulled back, hesitant.

Michael looked at Marty, and asked quietly, "How old are you?"

"Does it matter?" Marty replied, "I want to be with you, Michael, I do."

Michael nodded, leaned in and lightly kissed Marty, then said, "Marty, I need to know, How old are you?"

Marty looked up and lied, "Seventeen."

Michael nodded, then asked, "What year were you born?"

"1960," Marty replied quickly.

Michael nodded again and reached over, pulling off Marty's jacket, then unbuttoning his shirt. He pulled off his own shirt, and looked into Marty's wide eyes, "What do you want, Marty?" he asked, his hands on Marty's arms.

Marty looked up at Michael, smiled a small, randy, smile and said, "You." Then he reached for Michael and kissed him again, still clumsy, but becoming more expert.

Michael put his arms on Marty's shoulders, pushing him down on the couch. He returned Marty's kiss, covering him with his body, and flicking his tongue to his mouth, licking Marty's lips. Marty opened his mouth, and Michael entered Marty's mouth with his tongue. Michael's own trousers grew tight as his erection grew hard, rubbing Marty's leg.

Marty's eyes opened, and he stared up at Michael as he felt Michael's hard penis against his leg, then he closed his eyes again and flicked his own tongue into Michael's mouth, running his tongue along Michael's teeth. Finally, Marty came up for air, and said, "Michael, Michael, how? How does it work? I mean, we're both men, and..."

Michael smiled at Marty, "First time?"

Marty flushed, "Yah. I mean, other than what... what HE did to me, but... There are ways, aren't there, Michael? Things that feel good, when you're with another man?"

Michael nodded, "Oh yes, Marty. There are ways, things that feel good." Then he slid down Marty's body to his trousers and undid Marty's belt. Marty was already beginning to get an erection, and he moaned, softly.

Michael undid Marty's trousers, and eased them off. Then he pushed down Marty's white pants. He lightly touched Marty's penis with his hand and stroked it. Marty gasped, then moaned. Michael stroked harder, then knelt next to the couch, and took Marty's penis in his mouth. He began to lick and suck, running his tongue along the shaft, moving his hand to Marty's testicles.

Marty groaned and moaned, "Oh, god, Michael, yes! That..." he gasped, then moaned, "God, that feels good!"

Michael nodded, continuing to lick and play with Marty's penis.

Marty groaned again, moaning Michael's name, then he shivered and came suddenly. Michael swallowed, then moved back off Marty. He knelt back on his ankles, and undid his own trousers, letting them pool around his ankles. His grey boxers soon followed the trousers. Michael's penis was erect and ready. He looked into Marty's eyes, which were still glazed with passion. "Do me, Marty. Take me in your mouth."

Marty nodded, sliding off the couch, then he moved to Michael and knelt before him. He looked up at Michael, slightly confused, his mouth about ten inches from Michael's erect cock.

Michael looked down, annoyed by the pause, "Do it. Take me in your mouth. Lick me. Suck me. Like I did, Marty. Come on, scared are you? A baby are you?"

Marty shook his head, then took Michael in his mouth. It felt odd having a cock in his mouth, and for a moment, Marty wondered what to do. Then he began licking and sucking Michael's penis, running his tongue along the length of the warm shaft.

Michael groaned, put his hands on Marty's head and pushed him closer.

Marty took Michael deeper into his mouth, licking and sucking, playing with Michael's penis, listening to Michael's passionate groans. He continued, then Michael spasmed and came. Marty paused, pulled off Michael, then swallowed.

Michael looked at him. "Thanks. That was good, Marty. It was. You'd think you'd done it before," he crooked his finger at Marty. "Come on," he said, leading Marty deeper into the flat.

Marty followed, slightly scared, as Michael led him into the bedroom.

"Strip off," Michael said as he began removing his own shirt.

Marty nodded, removing the little clothing he still wore, his unbuttoned shirt, and his socks. His trousers, pants, and shoes were still near the couch.

"Lie on your stomach," said Michael.

Marty did, then turned on his side, "What? What are you going to do?"

Michael smiled, randily, "Marty, I'm going to enter you. It's a bit painful, but it's good, Marty. I promise."

Marty looked up at Michael, confused, then a flash of memory hit, "No... no, HE... the monster, he forced me... it hurt, Michael, it hurt so much I wanted to die."

Michael nodded, and sat next to Marty on the bed. He ran a hand along Marty's shoulders, and Marty relaxed, sighing contently. "Marty, it's how it is between men. But... I'll use cream, Marty, a lubricant, so it won't hurt much, and I'll be gradual, Marty, all right?"

Marty nodded, "It won't hurt?"

Michael took a deep breath, and then answered, "It will hurt a little, but then it feels good." He slapped Marty's bum, then reached into the bedside table drawer and pulled out a round tin of hand cream. Michael rubbed the cream on his hands, then placed a dollop of it on Marty's arse.

Marty shivered as the cold cream hit his arse.

Michael saw Marty shiver, then took his finger and entered Marty's arse, stroking up and down. Marty groaned and gasped in pleasure. Michael added a second finger, stroking and opening Marty. Marty groaned, then again he let out a gasp of pleasure, before moaning, "Michael, do it," softly.

Michael pulled out his fingers, spread more cream on his ready penis, straddled Marty and pounded into him, slamming into him hard and fast, over and over.

Marty groaned in pain, then moaned in pleasure. He moved with Michael, striving to match Michael's rhythm, moaning with pleasure and enduring the pain. Finally, Michael came, sliding out of Marty. Marty moaned as the pressure was released, then turned on his side, reaching out for Michael.

Michael lay next to Marty, and reached for his penis. He stroked Marty, until he was erect, then murmured. "Enter me, Marty. I want to feel your cock up me arse."

Marty nodded, kneeling on the bed.

"Remember, coat yourself and me arse with the cream, Marty. We need it, for lubrication, you understand?"

Marty nodded, and reached for the cream, coating his erect penis. Michael lay on his stomach before Marty, who straddled him, coated his arse with hand cream, then did it, entering Michael, and stroking, softly and gently.

"Harder, Marty, do it harder!" yelled Michael.

Marty nodded, flipping his hair out of his eyes, then pushed harder into Michael, slamming into him. He continued, smiling with passion as he watched Michael squirm and moan with pleasure. Finally, Marty came, collapsing on Michael's back.

"Get off," said Michael, "You weigh a ton."

Marty complied, then scooted up the bed towards Michael, laying next to Michael.

Michael reached over, lightly touching Marty's hair, then said, "Marty, this is how it is, between blokes. You take your pleasure, but never get involved."

Marty nodded.

Michael placed his hand on Marty's face, "You take your pleasure where it's found, Marty. You sleep around and take what's offered. No attachments."

Marty looked at Michael, shocked, his eyes shimmering, "No attachments?" he said quietly, "Never?"

Michael nodded, "Not long ones."

Marty nodded, "Oh," then he slid off the bed, reaching for his shirt.

Michael stared at Marty, "Wait, stay the night at least."

Marty slipped on his shirt and began to button it up, "Can't. If they realise I'm gone, they'll panic. Mrs. Randall and Jeff." Marty moved quickly towards the bedroom door, "Thanks, Michael, thanks for showing me... what to do." Marty opened the bedroom door and left.

He entered the living room, and put his pants and trousers back on, shoving his socks in a pocket, then his bare feet into his shoes. Tears in his eyes, Marty left the flat, and headed home to the Randall home, and Jeff.

Marty reached the Randall home, his home, and pulled open the door, quietly entering the house. There was a light on in the kitchen, thinking he better face the music, he walked into the kitchen.

Jeff stood near the kitchen table, "Marty! Marty, Where have you been?"

Marty looked at Jeff, and answered, quietly, "Out."

Jeff moved towards Marty, and lightly touched his arm, "Out? What do you mean? I was worried sick, Marty, terrified."

Marty looked at Jeff, tears in his eyes, then said, "I went out for a walk. I needed to think a bit."

Jeff looked at his mate, then took a deep breath, then said, "Marty? Did I? Did I say anything earlier tonight? Anything..." he left off, then said quietly, "I was drunk, I suppose, Marty, and I didn't mean it."

Marty looked at Jeff in confusion, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Jeff looked at Marty in surprise, "I... I don't remember everything I said, earlier, with the cider and all, and I thought I... I thought I might have said something, embarrassing, or even mean to you, that's all I meant."

Marty nodded, "Well, you didn't. But if you want to, tell me now, why you were upset or why you were drunk?"

Jeff shook his head, and the two sat in companionable silence for a moment, then Jeff put his arm around Marty's shoulders, "Did you have a nightmare? Is that why you went out in the middle of the night?"

Marty looked at Jeff, gratefully, and nodded, "Yah, I..."

Jeff asked, "Why didn't you wake me?"

"I didn't want to wake you up, Jeff. You needed your sleep, and," Marty put a hand to Jeff's shoulder, lightly, then continued, "I'm all right. I'm fine now, Jeff. Really."

Marty smiled at Jeff, "Maybe we should go back to sleep? I don't think your mum..."

Jeff looked at Marty and nodded, "All right, let's go back to sleep then, Marty. But next time you have a nightmare, wake me up, yah?" Jeff lightly reached out, touching Marty's cheek, Marty shivered in response, and pulled back. Jeff pulled his hand away, then added, "I was so scared, I mean, last time you..."

Marty looked at Jeff in surprise and confusion, "Last time? What do you mean?"

Jeff looked at Marty, "I mean, when I found you, at school, with the..." he left off there, then said, "But I didn't have a bad feeling tonight, Marty. I knew you were all right, I just didn't know where you were, so I was scared. But you're here now, and you're obviously all right, so let's go back to sleep before Mum wakes up, yah?" He clapped Marty on the shoulder, lightly pushing him towards the door that led from the kitchen to the rest of the house. Jeff passed Marty in the hall, and led the way up the stairs.

Marty nodded, following Jeff upstairs, his mind awhirl with thoughts. Jeff's casual touches had made him feel so good, though he knew he couldn't act on them. Marty flashed back to what he had done with Michael, and he briefly imagined doing the same with Jeff, and gasped.

Jeff turned on the stairs towards Marty, "You all right?"

"Yah, Jeff," Marty nodded, as he forced the thoughts of doing that with Jeff to the back of his mind. "I'm fine, I... I couldn't find the step in the dark."

"Oh, okay, Marty," then he turned and continued climbing the stairs. Marty followed, quietly, his thoughts confused, but Jeff at the forefront of them.

END FLASHBACK

Marty opened his eyes and looked deeply into Jeff 's eyes, desperately wanting to touch him, but knowing he shouldn't and continued, "But I wasn't in love with Michael. I never was in love with him. In a tiny, tiny, way... I was grateful, because he taught me what to do; and I used the knowledge during our first time, Jeff. But, I swear to you. I wasn't in love with him."

Jeff nodded, "Marty, How many times? How often did you have sex with Michael?"

"Just the once."

"Do you swear on that? It was only once, and it was before we were a couple?"

Marty nodded his head, "Yah, just the once." Marty moved forward, and grabbed Jeff's arms, looking into Jeff's eyes, "It wasn't love, and it was just the once. I... I initiated it, because I needed to know something about myself, Jeff. But I swear... I only had sex with him once."

Jeff looked at Marty, "All right, then. But if it was just the once - Why don't you want to take his case? You afraid he might tempt you again?"

Marty shook his head, "NO! NO - I don't want to take the case, because I don't trust him. Michael... harassed me a bit, after I told him that it WAS only going to be the once. He probably thought... I don't know what he thought. But after that, one time, I knew what I wanted, what I really wanted, was you. I had dreamed about you, and I wanted you."

"Eventually, you asked me. And I responded."

"Yes."

Jeff moved to Marty, took him in his arms, and stroked his hair. Then he kissed Marty's cheek, "It's all right, Marty. It is. I wish you had told me years ago, but it is all right. I suppose I knew. I mean, not at first, because it seemed natural to me that you'd know what to do, but... later, I think I knew you had had some sort of experience, Marty." Jeff took Marty's face in his hands, and kissed him.

Marty returned the kiss. Jeff, I am sorry. But I swear, I am faithful to you. I always have been faithful, and I always will be faithful. I swear it, Jeff. Marty smiled in his mind, pulled Jeff closer, then added, I swear it, Mrs. Hopkirk.

Jeff smiled mentally, kissed Marty deeply, and responded, All right, Marty, all right. I forgive you. I really don't think I can stake a claim on your life before we were together, anyway. I'm sorry I was angry. Jeff reluctantly broke the embrace, "But I still think we should take his case. We need the money, and... I know I can trust you, Marty. Even if Michael tries something... we're partners, tell him to respect that."

Marty nodded, "All right. We take his case. But YOU call him and tell him. And if he tries anything, I'll tear him apart. Jeff, I'm committed to you. No one else. Just you."

Jeff nodded, "I know." Then he walked over to his desk and picked up the telephone.

Later that same afternoon

Michael entered the office and walked over to Marty's desk, "So where's your, partner, is it?"

Marty glared at him, "Yes. Jeff's my partner," Marty raised his hand, pointing to his ring, "More than my business partner, Michael, he IS my partner. Officially for four years; unofficially, a lot longer than that."

Michael sat on Marty's desk, "God, Marty, don't tell me you went in for all that 'commitment ceremony' crap; Whatever happened to a good lay?" He reached out and stroked Marty's jaw.

Marty pulled back, grabbed Michael's hand, bending it back and forcing it away until Michael yelped. "We are seriously committed, Michael. I love Jeff. Now, stop the antics, or you can forget having Jeff and I work for you. Because I am not going to put up with it."

Michael backed up, off the desk, "You used to be more fun than this, Marty."

Marty shook his head, "I didn't care about you. You were using me, and I certainly used you, Michael. That was all there was to it. What Jeff and I have is different..."

At that moment Jeff walked into the office, "Sorry I'm late..." He looked at Michael then at Marty, then went to Marty's side, and leaned against him, almost sitting on Marty's knee, "Is there a problem?"

Michael looked at Jeff, "Well, you are certainly a jealous type, aren't you?"

Marty stood, "That's it. Forget it! Find someone else! It's not worth 200 quid an hour to listen to you!"

Jeff placed a hand on Marty's shoulder, and Marty sat down again, then Jeff said, "No, it's all right. Now, you told us that some gangsters were harassing you, to get you to start some illegal gambling at your club?"

Michael walked over to a chair before Marty's desk, and sat down, then answered, "Yes, that's right."

"And who are they?"

Michael took a deep breath and answered, "Well, they didn't exactly introduce themselves, but the Colzone brothers."

Jeff whistled.

Marty said, "The COLZONE brothers? They're a little out of our league, Michael."

Michael looked at Marty, then said, "Please. You have no idea how hard I worked, and I do NOT want the Colzone brothers taking over my club! If they get in, they will take it over-- first gambling, then drugs, then who knows what else, and I do NOT want that to happen!"

Marty looked at Jeff, "It's up to you. It will be dangerous, the Colzone brothers do NOT take no for an answer."

Jeff nodded, then looked at Michael, "You'll leave Marty alone? We take this, and... you WILL leave him alone?" Jeff lightly touched Marty's shoulder, Not that I don't trust you, Marty. But I'm pretty sure I don't trust HIM.

"I swear it," said Michael, crossing his fingers behind his back.

Marty nodded, "Right. So what do we do?"

"Well, I can get you in as new staff. And, I suspect that the Colzone minders will come in tonight or maybe tomorrow night."

"And we give you protection. Right. That will only work for so long," said Marty.

"So, you have any bright ideas for stopping them?" Asked Michael.

Marty thought for a few minutes, and then said, "Yah, actually, I think I do."

Later in the afternoon, the same day that Michael had hired Jeff and Marty, Marty strode into The Harlequin nightclub. It was daytime, a few hours before the place would open for dinner, so the lights were on, making the neon lights, coloured spot lights near the dance floor, and everything else look stale, old, and dusty. But Marty could tell the club would have appeal at night. The Harlequin was located on the 9th floor of a ten storey building, and the top floor was used for storage, cleaning cupboards, and a general office for the entire building. Michael's own office and the liquor storage area for the club were also on the 9th floor, behind the club. A dance floor took up the front right corner of the club, then small round tables, then a long, oak and brass bar along the left-hand side. The bar might have been incongruous in the modern nightclub if it hadn't been for the building, which was an old red brick warehouse. It had been mostly gutted, then rebuilt to hold a number of restaurants, high-class shops, and clubs, including The Harlequin on the 9th floor, and a piano bar on the ground floor. Some of the original features of the building remained, stone archways, brass fixtures, oak paneling. The mixture of the traditional features of the building and the modern approach in the club itself, was oddly comforting. Marty looked around, and smiled.

Michael Forbes walked out from a doorway to one side of the bar, saw Marty and smiled. "Marty! Good to see you've finally arrived. Where's your wife?"

Marty walked towards Michael, then said, "Jeff is my partner, Michael, not my wife. And he's parking the car."

"Partner, wife, what's the difference?" Michael strode towards Marty, then grabbed Marty's arse as he walked past him, "If you're going to be so boring as to stick with the one person, who cares what you call it?"

Marty spun on his heel, grabbing Michael's hand and pushing it away, "Stop it, Michael. I've told you - NO antics. Leave me alone. Jeff and I don't have to take this case, you know. I could turn around, find Jeff, and leave, never come back."

Michael searched Marty's eyes, then stepped back, "Yes, well. Here she is, The Harlequin, my pride and joy. Do you like it?" Michael gestured towards the club, smiling.

Marty nodded, "I must admit, I do. It's a different approach,"

Michael interrupted, "Well, the building is listed, so I couldn't change any architectural features, but I wouldn't have wanted to. Most nightclubs are so... sterile. The Harlequin has warmth."

Marty smiled, "It has style, Michael, it does."

Michael nodded, put a hand to Marty's back, and then said, "Come and look over here," he lead Marty away from the bar and small tables, then past the dance floor. On the opposite site of the club, there were a series of large booths, built into alcoves with red brick archways leading into the area of the booth. The booths were large enough to hold six to eight people, though there were a few small, two person booths on either end of the row.

Marty looked at the booths, "Nice, very nice. So you also serve food, then?"

Michael nodded, "We have a fully staffed kitchen, and two gourmet chefs. We open at five for dinner and serve until ten. After that, the full kitchen is closed, but we serve appetizers as well as drinks for the rest of the evening. Having a restaurant as well as the dance floor, means we have more clientele, and bring in more income. We're rapidly climbing to the top of the Best Restaurants in London list, Marty. Many of our restaurant customers don't even fully realise..." Michael left off.

Marty whistled, "They don't realise that at night, once the dance floor opens, and the kitchen closes..."

Michael nodded. "Yah, it's a delicate balance, but a very successful one."

Jeff strode into the nightclub, looked about the place, spotted Marty and walked towards him. Marty moved to Jeff when he got near, put an arm about Jeff's shoulders, and drew him to his side.

Jeff slid his arm around Marty's waist, and quickly sent, Is something wrong, Marty?

Not really, Michael made a pass at me. I told him, 'No', Jeff. It's all right.

Jeff glared at Michael, then said, "Marty, what's the plan for this evening?"

Marty kept his arm around Jeff and answered, "Well, I think I'll take the position of bartender."

Jeff nodded, "And what do I do, Marty?"

"You can circulate the club, like a normal club-goer," Michael suggested.

"No, wait," replied Marty to Michael, "It's just, a place like this," he looked at Michael, then said, "No offence meant, Michael, but it's a pick-up place, isn't it?"

Michael nodded, "Yeah. People come here to find, companionship."

"I don't want you in that position, Jeff."

Jeff moved in front of Marty, and said, "I can handle it Marty, I'm a trained detective."

Marty nodded, then brought a hand up to Jeff's face, touching his cheek, then stroking his jaw, "You'll be alone out there, Jeff..."

Jeff leaned forward, took Marty into his arms, and unashamedly kissed him, then said, "I'll be all right. And you'll be behind the bar, if I have any real trouble with unwanted advances, Marty."

"Then I want you wearing a wire."

Jeff nodded, "That's fine with me." He leaned towards Marty and lightly kissed him, "Marty, I'll be all right."

Marty, still in Jeff's arms, returned his kiss lightly, then said, "You can tend bar if you want, it's just..."

Jeff stepped back out of Marty's arms and nodded, "I know, you had that stint at tending bar, back when I was in uni, before you found the job at the detective agency," Jeff lightly touched Marty's hand, before letting go, and saying, "You can fake being a bartender better than I can. I don't know a G&T from a Long Island Iced Tea. It's all right."

Michael looked at Jeff and raised an eyebrow, "Really? One's a gin drink the other's a rum drink, how could you..."

"He was speaking metaphorically, Michael," Marty pointed out, "But he's basically right, Jeff's not an expert on alcohol. And I tended a bar, for about six months, several years ago. I can fake it."

Michael nodded, then said, "I appreciate what you two are doing - I really do. Thanks."

Jeff looked daggers at Michael and said, "Well, you hired us, Michael. We're not doing any favours, just our jobs."

That evening Michael had gotten Marty a black bartender's uniform, introduced him to the staff, and shown him the workings of the club. Both Jeff and Marty had worn earpieces and microphones. But nothing had happened at The Harlequin Club that evening, no minders had come into the place, and even Michael had behaved himself as Marty poured out drinks and chatted to customers at the bar. Jeff had circulated the club, wearing a wire, and chatting as best he could with the club patrons. And so, late that evening, or rather, early the next morning, Jeff and Marty drove back to their flat.

Jeff sat quietly in the passenger seat of Marty's car, then he yanked the earpiece from his ear.

Marty looked at Jeff, then back at the road, continuing to drive.

Jeff took a deep breath, then said, "I can't wait to go home and take a shower, Marty, I feel so... so dirty and cheap."

Marty nodded at Jeff, continuing to drive, focusing his attention on the road, his own soul in turmoil.

Jeff glanced at Marty, then touched his arm, "I wouldn't have..."

Marty abruptly swung the car to the side of the road, shoved the gear stick into neutral, parking the car, then loosened his seatbelt and turned towards Jeff, "Jeff, what are you talking about?"

"You're angry, and you have a right to be angry, but I swear I wouldn't have..."

Marty shook his head violently, then reached towards Jeff with his hand.

Jeff flinched.

Marty shuddered, briefly remembering the one time in their relationship when he'd lost his temper and hit Jeff. "I'm sorry," Marty said, looking at Jeff, "I wasn't going to..." he left off, then lightly touched his fingertips to Jeff's face. He carefully stroked Jeff's face, then his jaw.

Jeff relaxed into Marty's hand, cupped on his own jaw, then reaching out with his own left hand to touch Marty's outstretched arm. Jeff closed his eyes.

Jeff, you're NOT the one I'm angry at. I'm angry at Michael, and I'm angry at myself. I'm angry at every bloke in that place who, who chatted you up, Jeff. You're MY partner, I trust you, but I was so... so jealous of every cheap remark... The way they looked at you Jeff. Marty's thoughts broke off, then he felt complete and utter surprise in his partner's mind.

Marty? Jeff sent in confusion, adding, You're not angry at me? Then his eyes opened at he gazed at Marty.

Marty moved his other hand to Jeff's face, and gently held Jeff's head. "Jeff, I'm not angry at you, not at all."

Jeff nodded, "I... I still felt... like a piece of meat, Marty. Like everyone was staring at me, and sizing me up to see what kind of... of lay I'd be."

Marty nodded.

"And, and all those, chat-up lines... the only information I picked up tonight was half a dozen phone numbers. I thought I could handle it, Marty, but I'm... I'm not very good at this. I'm not that wise in..." Jeff left off.

Marty nodded again, "You won't go through it again, Jeff. I won't put you through it again. Tomorrow when we go back there, I'm telling Michael-- he lets you in undercover as a waiter or something, or we're off the case."

"Marty?" Jeff asked, needing an explanation.

"Jeff-- you're mine. I won't have a bunch of other blokes chatting you up, even though you tell them no. You can get more information as a waiter anyway. Michael either accepts that or... or we're off the case, we are not so desperate for work, that you have to humilate yourself, Jeff."

Jeff nodded, "Thank you, Marty. Thank you for being so... understanding."

Marty looked at Jeff quizzically then he moved forward and kissed him, putting his arms around Jeff's shoulders, before pulling back a bit and asking, "You all right, Jeff?"

Jeff held Marty tight and answered, "Yah, I am, Marty. Let's go home."

Marty gently let Jeff go, kissed him lightly, then he moved back to the driver's seat and drove them both home.

TO BE CONTINUED