Legal Bindings

23. Nick

“Welcome Anita Newman performing ‘Man!I Feel Like a Woman!’”

Nick snorted. The title was a bit on the nose, though he clapped anyway, caught up in the energy of the crowd that was oh so excited to see Anita do her very best Shania.

Anita strutted onstage in thigh-high boots and a leopard-print coat, both looking like they’d been made of contact paper wrapped around a dress form. Nick hadn’t been to a drag show in years—Evan clearly believed he’d never been to one at all—and for all that they weren’t his scene, he could appreciate the DIY scrappiness. He wasn’t an artistic person, but he was certainly making a pattern of being attracted to artists and artisans—Ben with his woodworking, and Evan with his whole… everything.

“Yes, baby!” Evan called, waving a dollar bill for Anita, who came to pluck it from his fingers with a kick of her high-heeled boots.

The ridiculous act was the best sort of camp—uninhibited and celebrated by a room full of strangers wanting nothing more in the world than to watch. Nick grinned, and though he didn’t tip her, he passed one of his dollars Evan’s way so Evan could do it for him. Miss Shania was followed by a Gaga and then a Whitney, who was so stunningly made-up that Nick wondered if the actual Whitney Houston had come back from the dead just to play a surprise set at a club in Seattle. The crowd sang along, with most people knowing every word. Nick glanced around then turned his attention back to the stage. Hesitantly, he pulled a dollar from the stack Evan had given him and held it up.

Whitney sauntered toward him and dipped low, waiting until there was a break in the song before taking the dollar and giving him a wink. “Thank you, honey,” she mouthed then got back to work.

Evan elbowed him, and Nick glanced over, grinning. “What?” he said with a laugh. “She’s good!”

“Okay, Nicky.”

The nickname still did funny things to Nick’s insides. People had called him that before, but this was different. When Evan said it, they were sharing the secret of how easily Nick went to his knees for a man he’d overlooked for far too long.

“You want another drink?” Evan asked. Nick said he did then watched as Evan slipped into the crowd, no doubt finding friends and well-wishers along the way.

Nick watched Cher, followed by Lizzo, who couldn’t lip-synch but had incredible ass padding. Once she’d exited, the emcee blew into the mic, and excitement ramped even higher as they announced with an exaggerated squeal that the headliner was next. The room erupted, and restraining the impulse to cover his ears, Nick joined in the clapping—more sedately than the others, but still, there he was, participating. He craned his neck, looking for Evan, not wanting him to miss the show, but Evan was nowhere to be seen, leaving Nick sitting alone as the gorgeous six-foot-tall brunette sauntered onto the stage.

By the time Evan made it back, the headliner was through, and the emcee had announced a brief intermission.

“Where’ve you been?” Nick asked with a smile, enjoying himself more than he’d expected. “You missed her!” His ears were buzzing as he sipped the drink Evan offered, which was pink and surprisingly potent.

“They all do at least two songs, so she’ll perform again, and there’s a—oh, hi!” Yet again, a friend had dropped by Evan’s side of the table.

Nick nursed his drink, half listening to the conversation, which was about Evan’s upcoming gallery show. Apparently, it was a bigger deal than Nick had realized, given that the friend was chattering about it being written up in the local alt weekly as a hot ticket event.

Once the guy was gone, Nick looked at Evan then cleared his throat. “Sounds like Sydney was right. You’re a big deal.”

“Oh, it’s…” Evan waved a dismissive hand and reached for his drink. “It’s fine.”

“Do you want me to come? I mean if… you don’t have to say yes.”

“Yeah, definitely! But don’t feel obligated or anything.”

Nick shrugged. “I don’t feel obligated. I want to see your stuff.”

A small smile graced Evan’s face, and he looked down at the table. “Then yes, please. I’d like you there.”

“Good,” Nick said just as the emcee announced that the next set was beginning.

The second half of the show was bigger, louder, and better, with elaborate choreography, ridiculous wigs, and even a couple of onstage costume changes as each queen went for broke in an explosion of sweat, grit, and glitter. It was, in a word, fierce, as in “fuck you,” which made pride swell in Nick’s chest. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t care what anyone thought of him as he sat there, handing out tips, pounding the table, and hooting with delight at every dramatic death drop.

Toward the end, the emcee announced that Anita would be hosting a competition for the cutest ass in the club, with a prize of two free drinks. “Do we have any volunteers?” they drawled.

Nick’s hand twitched on the tabletop and then, suddenly, it was in the air because he didn’t want to get sucked back into the world where he was constantly watching his back lest someone be judging it.

“All right, honey, come on up,” Anita said as she pointed at Nick. “Yes, you. Don’t be shy!”

As Nick rose to his feet, Evan stared at him with wide, delighted eyes. “Nicky…”

“What? It’s free drinks!” With that, he clambered onto the stage, where he was soon flanked by seven other volunteers, some very cute boys among them.

Nick had no idea what he was in for, but as he stared out at the sea of smiling faces, he found he didn’t care. He was having fun, and that was all that mattered. In the end, though, he wasn’t up there for long. Anita had them bend over then summarily dismissed Nick and another guy for having jeans that weren’t quite tight enough.

“Serve me Daisy Duke next time, baby,” Anita declared as she shooed Nick from the stage.

Nick, still with a grin plastered to his face, settled in next to Evan with a laugh. “Oh well.”

“What the hell was that?” Evan asked, grinning in disbelief.

“I dunno. I just felt like it!” Nick turned back to the stage, and the show continued, exposing first the tighty-whities of the remaining six contestants and then—after dismissing three more people—the bare-assed virtues of the final three.

The final vote came down to applause level, though even that was subjective on Anita’s part. In the end, it went to a guy who claimed he did a hundred squats a day. Whether or not that was true, he did have a great ass.

Once it was all over, Nick turned to Evan. “Hey, so, I was thinking we ought to go dance.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he said before taking him by the hand and tugging him to his feet.

They made for the dance floor as the show ended and the beat took over. Though Nick hadn’t danced in years, he found it easy to follow Evan. All he really had to do was stand in one place, sway to some semblance of the beat, and occasionally allow Evan to use him like a human-sized stripper pole. No big deal.

* * *

By the time they got home, it was pushing two in the morning, and they stumbled out of the cab and giggled their way up the driveway and into the kitchen, where Evan pushed Nick against the refrigerator and kissed him. Nick had no choice but to kiss back, and soon enough, they were fumbling their way toward Nick’s bedroom, trading kisses and gropes, leaving a trail of clothing behind them.

“Wanna fuck you,” Evan said as they approached the bed, placing both hands on Nick’s shoulders and giving a shove.

Nick toppled onto the mattress, and Evan wasted no time in stripping him of his shoes, pants, and dark-gray briefs. After that, Evan crawled on top of him and reached for Nick’s cock, which had some interest, yes, but not much.

“Wha—” Nick looked down then grunted. “Whiskey dick.”

“Boo.” Evan licked a stripe up the side of his neck before collapsing at his side.

“You can still fuck me.”

“Nah.” He propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at Nick with a grin. “I’m pretty drunk—not sure I could get it up either. Plus, I like the challenge of getting you all horny.”

“Me, a challenge?”

“Yeah.”

Nick shrugged then smiled, the alcohol loosening his tongue. “It’s easier with you.”

“What, sex?”

“Wantingsex,” he clarified then yawned. “Thanks. For tonight.”

“Thank yourself, hot ass.” Evan grinned, biting the meat of Nick’s bicep hard enough to make him yowl. “Shit, how lucky am I, getting to spank one of the top asses in Seattle.”

Nick scoffed. “I hardly think it was a scientific—”

Evan cut him off by delivering three well-placed slaps to his inner thigh. “They have a vigorous vetting process.”

“That’s not even my—”

“Nicky.” He rolled his eyes. “Take a compliment.”

Nick shut his mouth, lips turned upward in a smile, then mimed locking it up and throwing away the key.

Evan smiled, reaching for the blanket at the foot of the bed and pulling it over them both. “I like you when you’re silly.”

Nick didn’t know what to say to that, so he just shrugged, turning on his side. “G’night,” he mumbled.

Sighing, Evan snaked an arm around his torso and pulled him back against his slimmer frame. “Night.”

Nick closed his eyes, swallowing against the sound of his heartbeat as it thrummed in his still-ringing ears. Soon enough, Evan’s breathing evened out, and Nick knew he was asleep—of course. The evening hadn’t been out of the ordinary for him, whereas for Nick, it had been the best night out he’d had in years. Maybe one of the best ever.

It struck him, suddenly, that with Evan in his life, nights this good didn’t have to be an anomaly. Being with Evan meant spontaneity and fun, and the fuck you fierceness he’d so admired in the drag queens. It meant not caring what the world thought and having a community to belong to. It meant Nick might learn to like himself more. To worry less.

But it was bigger than that. Evan wasn’t just a concept—he was a person. A funny, talented, smart person whom Nick was growing more and more attached to by the day. Their original agreement had been the month-to-month lease, with Nick more than happy to get rid of his roommate the moment he found a new job. Now he had the job, and while he didn’t know what would happen with the roommate, it struck him that he wouldn’t mind so much if Evan was able to stick around. That would be a pretty good life, really—being Sydney’s foster parent, having Evan to play with, fixing up the house.

A shiver ran down Nick’s spine, and he turned on his side to pull away from Evan’s embrace. Those thoughts ran dangerously close to hope, and he knew better than to believe in that sort of thing. Life, after all, didn’t care what he wanted when it came around to kick him in the teeth.