Delko took another sip of his drink and tried for the third time to remember exactly what was in it. The alcohol wasn't helping to chase the adrenaline from his blood. And why was adrenaline in his blood? Because Speed was not a responsible rider.

Speed had a Ducati. Delko didn't know the model or the specs, but he knew it roared like the devil and it raced down the Miami streets at approximately the velocity of a bat out of hell. This, Delko had reflected as Speed had brought the bike out of a turn and cranked the throttle wide open, must be what a bullet fired from a gun feels like. Responsible? Hardly. Insane? Very probably.

When Delko hadn't been clenching his jaw and squeezing his eyes shut, however, the ride had allowed him to notice details about Speed. The way his hair curled at his hairline at the back of his neck, for example. The one freckle that dotted the skin just below and behind his right ear. The way his body seemed to become one with the bike. Hell, Delko's body had practically become one with Speed's after a few of those stops.

Speaking of Speed...Delko glanced around, but couldn't see his friend. Probably on the dancefloor. Speed was a notorious dancer. He made a big show of not liking to dance, but he was incredibly good at it nonetheless. Delko remembered a conversation he'd had once with one of Speed's exes, a blonde girl with a slightly dippy personality who had spent easily five minutes gushing about the way Speed moved.

Delko poured the rest of the drink down his throat and shuddered as the alcohol hit him. Far from feeling thrilled, he was confused. Horatio was still on his mind. He wondered what it would be like to dance with Horatio to the kind of music they played at Opium, and smiled to himself. There was no way H would ever find himself on this kind of dancefloor.

A dark-haired girl swaying to the music at the edge of the crowd grinned lasciviously at him, but he wasn't in the mood. He gave a slight smile in return and sat back in the booth.

"Eric!" came a faint voice, and Delko glanced up to see Speed standing there. His white shirt glowed under the blacklights. A light sheen of sweat had broken out on his forehead. "What are you doing?"

Delko held up his empty glass. "Drinking," he yelled in return, feeling his vocal cords strain with the effort to be heard.

"It's empty," Speed shouted. "I'll get you another one." He took the glass from Delko's hand and disappeared into the throng of bodies.

The girl was looking at him. She raised an eyebrow, beckoned. He shook his head. She stretched out a hand to him, curled her fingers in a come-hither motion. Again he shook his head. He didn't know why, except that Speed was supposed to be getting him a drink.

Speed pushed his way in from the dancefloor, a half-full cocktail glass held high above the moving people. The other half of Delko's drink was all down the front of his shirt. "Sorry," he said sheepishly, and pulled at the wet fabric. "If you want the rest of your drink, you'll have to lick it off me."

Delko nearly choked. "It's okay," he said, but his eyes were on the shirt and the way it adhered to every curve and hollow of Speed's chest. There was something undeniably erotic in the way it concealed and revealed, the way the fabric clung to and lifted from his skin as he moved.

Speed was asking him something. "What?" Delko shouted.

"I said, I'm going back out." Speed nodded to the dancefloor. "Are you coming?"

Delko looked over at the girl, who was now looking slightly wounded by his apparent rejection. She was wearing heavy eye makeup and had a series of tiny crystals trailing down her cheeks from the corners of her eyes, but she was pretty. And she was wearing leather pants. Tight leather pants.

"Yeah," Delko said, and got up. "I'm coming."

The girl curved seductively against his chest, but Delko took her by the hand and pulled her deeper into the crowd to where Speed was talking to a blonde in a miniskirt. "What's your name?" the dark-haired girl yelled into his ear.

"Eric."

"I'm Tanya." She slid her arms around her neck and ground her pelvis into his at the same time that the blonde turned around and leaned back into Speed.

Delko felt the sultry throb of the music in his lower abdomen. He didn't know what was turning him on more, the girl who was arching against him or the way Speed's body was twisting and gyrating. He gripped Tanya's hips, sinking his fingers into the millimetre or so of flesh, and changed the rhythm of their movements to something slow and timeless.

Speed was looking at him, even as he pressed up against the blonde in front of him. Delko couldn't believe how badly he wanted to believe what he thought he saw in Speed's dark eyes.

Tanya turned around and plastered her back against Delko's chest, which put her face to face with the blonde who was dancing with Speed. Mere seconds had passed before the two girls were kissing. Delko, who could only stare mutely, thought he had never been more aroused in his life. He looked up from the girls into Speed's eyes. This time, the invitation was unmistakable.

Delko swallowed. His throat was suddenly dry. He edged out from behind Tanya, who barely seemed to notice. Heat radiated from the dancers around them. The dancefloor was packed and the people pulsed in time to the beat of the music. Delko fed off the energy. It allowed him to be bold. He tilted his head in Speed's direction in a wordless request.

Speed turned sideways, and Delko stepped up behind him. Speed's body was hot against his chest. He laid his hands tentatively on Speed's waist and then said to hell with it and pulled him back against him.

"Eric." Speed's voice reached him. There was a note of concern in it, and perhaps one of nervousness as well. "Are you drunk?"

Delko bent his mouth to Speed's ear. "Nope." He tilted his hips forward, which had the effect of letting Speed feel his erection up close and personal. "I want you," he said, his speech slurred with desire, aware that he wasn't helping to convince anyone that he wasn't drunk and not caring. And far from being freaked out or otherwise disturbed, Speed rubbed himself against Delko, practically purring. Delko wrapped his arms around the shorter man's waist and licked a droplet of sweat from Speed's temple. "Kiss me."

Speed turned his head and their mouths collided. He tasted like sweet rum and something fruity. Delko attacked Speed's mouth with fervour, wanting to taste as much as he could in case this was all he was going to get. Speed, far from withdrawing from the aggression, turned around within the circle of Delko's arms and the kiss became what might as well have been sexual assault.

Delko slid his hands down Speed's back and gripped his ass, pulling him closer. Speed made an indistinct noise deep down in his chest, the vibration coming through in his lips. He felt something else as well – Speed was hard. He had to make a decision, and fast.

Delko tore his mouth from Speed's and leaned down to his ear. "Do you want to go?"

Speed looked up at him, hair awry, dark eyes almost shut, sweat-soaked shirt sticking to his body. Delko had never seen anything sexier in his life. "Yeah. Yeah, let's go."


Leaving the nightclub was like stumbling into a dream. Delko knew all too well how it felt when the door closed and amputated you from the music that had become part of your body. The silence was deafening. The darkness outside was broken only by hazy streetlights that seemed to be dimmer around Opium than in any other part of Miami, although perhaps that was only a side-effect of exposure to the disco lights they used in the club.

Speed was already headed for the bike. Delko followed, feeling oddly numb. His entire body ached with desire – his brain just couldn't process any other sensation.

"Eric." Speed handed him the helmet.

"Thanks." Delko's own voice seemed to come from far away. Temporary hearing loss was common at clubs, and nobody could spend more than ten minutes in Opium without suffering some. That was part of its charm; it was loud enough that you couldn't hear yourself think, and so much of what went on there happened purely on instinct and without any sort of consideration.

"Um, where are we going?" Speed asked.

Delko didn't care. Anywhere he could have his way with Speed was fine by him. "Your place is closer," was what he said.

Speed nodded, and Delko slid his arms around Speed's waist as he twisted the throttle wide open and they peeled out of there as though they had somewhere to be.