Your Secret's Safe With Me
Type of story: One-shot
Rating: Teen. Some kissing and implied gay sexual activity.
Spoilers: None. Dee and Ryo are not mentioned.
Timing: Set in February before the events of Book 7 take place.
Summary: Drake agrees to pose as JJ's 'boyfriend' at a gay nightclub, but the experience ends up being a little more than he bargained for.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They are the property of Sanami Matoh. I am not making any money from this.
Author's notes: This is for Shelley6441. I can't put much more Drake/JJ in what's left of FAKE First Year Together: A New Day, but I can give you a little more of their developing relationship in this separate story. Remember how Drake told Ryo in the Chinese restaurant that he'd gone to gay bars with JJ a couple of times? Well, this is the story of the first time he did that.
Thank you and a big hug to Blue Simplicity, beta among betas. (I stole your line again. You'll know it when you see it!)
Your Secret's Safe With Me
From what he believed to be a relatively safe spot at one end of the bar, Drake took a pull on his beer and tried to look just the right combination of bored and forbidding in the hopes that no one would approach him in search of romantic conversation. Or more. While he had the straight man's horror of being found attractive by his own sex, he also had the typical conviction of such men that his body was of extraordinary interest to gays and must be vigilantly protected. JJ had dismissed his fears with an incredulous snort, laughingly informing him that his unfortunate choice of outfit would be all the protection he needed. Drake didn't see that there was anything THAT bad about his choice of clothes for the evening. After all, was it possible to go wrong with a T-shirt and black jeans in a nightclub? But upon arriving at the club he was inwardly shocked by the amount of latex, leather and low-cut painted on tanks that he saw. There were even a few frills and feathers. He definitely looked like Joe Straight by comparison. He couldn't imagine that circumstances even existed that could compel him to ever dress like most of the patrons of this particular bar. However, he couldn't feel entirely confident that JJ was right about his clothes being enough to put would-be rapists off, and he held himself alert. For the tenth time, he wished he could have a cigarette, but there was a pretty patrol officer over at the 19th who was refusing to go out with him unless he quit smoking. He was trying his hardest to meet that particular piece of criteria.
JJ was out on the dance floor gyrating between two muscular young men who looked enough alike to be brothers except one was slightly taller and had shorter hair. Drake, with his observant cop's eyes, had watched them arrive together fifteen minutes before. They had scanned the dance floor and made a beeline for JJ. Drake hoped his partner would come back soon. He was bored and edgy and terrified someone would come and talk to him, yet almost hoping someone would, just to give him something else to do for a little while, rather than watch JJ.
Not that JJ's performance on the dance floor was not a thing of beauty to watch. From a purely aesthetic point of view of course, as Drake really wasn't into men the way some of his co-workers were. But JJ was a very physical person and the almost frenetic energy that characterized his every move, so unsuited to the more sedate pace of everyday life, found its perfect outlet in dance. The way he moved, with such abandon, yet in perfect time to the music, all the muscles of his body coordinating their movements in an effortless expression of grace and passion, was compelling to watch. Especially for a man like Drake. He wasn't in any way clumsy or non-athletic -- in fact, he had been one of the best hockey players his high school had ever produced -- it was just that he couldn't dance without making a fool of himself. Whatever it was in JJ that allowed him to feel the rhythm of music with every fiber of his being was just not present in Drake. His dad was the same way, so it must be genetic. He had long ago given up trying. But he had always liked watching other people dance, especially if they were good. And JJ really was, bar none, the best dancer in this joint.
The kid beside Drake at the bar apparently thought so too, for he leaned over and shouted into Drake's ear, "Your boyfriend sure can dance."
"He's not--" Drake started to say, and then realized he shouldn't blow his cover. After all, he was there posing as JJ's date. That had been the deal in exchange for lunch every day next week. JJ loved to dance, loved losing himself in the music, but didn't always want to deal with the interest he aroused in the men at the clubs. Sometimes all he wanted was to dance for an hour or two and then go. But apparently no one went to a gay club just for that.
"He's not bad, is he?"" Drake shouted back.
The kid, a young blonde about JJ's height with a slender build, gave Drake a quick once-over and decided he liked what he saw. He smiled at the taller man and moved a bit closer. "Hey...You guys exclusive?"
"Damn right," Drake growled warningly and the kid stiffened and backed off a hair. "I'm Donny by the way," he said, extending his hand.
"Dra -- Dirk," said Drake shaking briefly and dropping eye contact. He didn't know why he felt so paranoid. JJ had assured him that he had never seen anyone he knew from the NYPD here, and he came here all the time. That's why they were here instead of at JJ's favorite club, which reputedly had better music.
The music changed and JJ surged briefly off the dance floor and over to Drake. Grinning, he plucked the beer neatly out of Drake's hand, drained it and handed him back the empty bottle.
"Hey!" protested Drake, but JJ just blew a kiss at him and retreated back into the grinding mass of humanity lit by strobe lights. Drake stared indignantly after JJ as Donny signaled to the bartender.
When Donny handed him another beer, Drake was torn between wanting to refuse and wanting to accept just to have something to do with his hands. Acceptance won.
"Thanks," he said, raising the beer to his new friend before taking a sip. Donny just smiled and waved a hand, indicating that it was of no moment. Together they watched JJ.
JJ had gone to a different part of the dance floor and appeared to be dancing with a dark-haired boy with a ponytail, but after a minute the two young bucks he'd been dancing with before found him again and efficiently cut ponytail out. Once again, JJ was between them, but this time they seemed to be a little more marked in their attentions. The one in front of JJ put his hands on him and felt him up a little. Drake immediately stiffened, and did not entirely relax even when JJ slapped the man's hands away and said something discouraging, complete with a glare. The man put up his hands in supplication and appeared to be apologizing, so the dance continued. But a minute later, the other one slung an arm around JJ from behind and rubbed his crotch up against JJ's butt. JJ wriggled free and turned around and yelled something at the guy, who just grinned at him. Drake did not like that grin. He slapped his beer down on the bar and started forward, but stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Donny.
"Be careful, Dirk," he said, looking a little anxious. "Those guys are huge."
Drake shook his hand off and continued toward JJ. It had not exactly escaped Drake's attention that the guys were huge, but in truth, he wasn't expecting a fight. As a former patrol officer, he knew that fights were rare at gay bars unless straight guys came in looking for trouble. Unexpectedly, he didn't have to push through the crowd; perhaps it was the determined look on his face, or the human thirst for drama, but the way parted before him like Moses at the Red Sea. He saw JJ ahead of him, eyes flashing, mouth moving, trying to tug his hand out of the grip of the larger of his two admirers, both of whom appeared to be cajoling him to remain with them. At the last moment, the one who was not holding JJ noticed Drake and guessed his intent. He nodded sharply to the other one who promptly let JJ go. JJ staggered backwards into Drake, who caught him by the shoulders and steadied him. Pausing only long enough to reassure himself that back-up had arrived, JJ lost no time giving the two men a piece of his mind. They apologized again, but this time to Drake who had been regarding them in grim silence. The two guys rapidly moved off through the crowd in search of someone more amenable to whatever they had in mind.
JJ was still upset and wanted to bitch about it, so Drake led him back to the bar and fetched him a drink. JJ usually drank some kind of pink vodka thing, but Drake couldn't remember what it was, so he ordered him a vodka martini. Eventually JJ got the grumbling out of his system, and Drake took the opportunity to introduce him to Donny, who had been hovering nearby.
"I know you're pissed at those guys, but they sure were hot," Donny said enviously.
"Those guys are brothers," JJ informed him. "They like coming to the clubs and picking someone up to do together, which is just FINE if you like that sort of thing, but tonight all I wanted was to dance. And imagine grabbing me like that, even after I told them no!" And he was off again, telling the whole story to the sympathetic and interested Donny. Drake privately thought that both JJ's dancing style and his outfit had not exactly been screaming 'no', but in that sense, he was the same as everyone else in here.
Drake's eyes went from Donny's closely fitting red fishnet shirt to JJ's silver vest, unzipped almost to his navel. Donny wore tight black trousers and JJ wore a loose fitting pair of thin white cargo pants that looked perfectly innocuous until he moved. The way they had repeatedly clung to and let go of the globes of his ass while he was dancing was positively indecent. They hung low on his hips, too. Drake didn't realize he was staring until JJ reached out and gave him a shake.
"Earth to Drake! Hey were you checking out my cute little ass?" With a mischievous grin, he turned around and shook it energetically at Drake, whose eyes widened in dismay.
"No! I -- Sorry, I was thinking about something else." Drake felt embarrassed and apologetic. Had he really been staring at JJ's butt? God, this place must be getting to him.
Suddenly, JJ was pressing close to him in a way that made his breath catch. His back was to the bar and JJ's hands were on either side of him, effectively hemming him in. He turned his face up toward Drake's and said close to his ear, "It's okay to look at my ass. Don't forget to play your part..." Then with a peck to the cheek and a saucy grin, JJ had bounced away from him, waving as he headed back to the dance floor. Drake watched him go, his mouth hanging open in astonishment and his body feeling hot where JJ had leaned against it.
JJ danced for another hour while Drake nursed his beer and kept an eye on him. There was a good deal of flirting between JJ and the other occupants of the dance floor, but no more trouble to speak of.
When JJ finally returned, damp, disheveled, and tired but happy, Drake was more than ready to get the hell out of there and go home to his nice quiet apartment. He volunteered to go fetch their coats in the interest of speeding that process along. On his way back from the coat check, he passed a dim little alcove where he noticed two familiar figures hunched over a third. There was definitely something sexual going on in there, and at least one other quite beefy guy seemed to be watching them. Drake stopped, and squinting past the beefy guy, was shocked to realize that it was the two brothers who had been harassing JJ earlier, and that they now had Donny pinned between them. Drake gasped and suddenly the big guy turned around. Drake realized, when he saw the word 'security' across the man's chest, that he was one of the bouncers.
"Move along, buddy," he ordered in a voice that brooked no argument.
"But--" said Drake, wondering if what was happening over there was consensual and if he should say something.
"I said move it," the bouncer growled and took a menacing step toward him. Drake retreated, but the image of what he had seen was burned into his brain. One brother held Donny's jaw with one hand and kissed him deeply while the other hand was busily moving lower on his body. The other brother was behind the smaller man, tugging his trousers down. Donny looked small and helpless between their hulking, muscular forms.
Deeply disturbed, Drake returned to JJ with their coats.
"What's wrong?" his sleepy-looking partner asked.
"Those two brothers that were bugging you are over by the coat check having sex with Donny," Drake replied.
"So, maybe he's in trouble."
"What makes you think he's in trouble? Was he yelling 'no, no' or 'help, help'?"
"Uh, no, but..."
"Did it look scary, Drakey?"
"Uh, yeah." Drake felt embarrassed. Yes, it HAD looked scary. It was his worst nightmare, in fact. But at the same time, just thinking about it made his heart beat a little faster. What the hell? He could just imagine how the guys at work would laugh at him if he told them about his night at a gay bar with JJ and the things he had seen. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, which JJ took for a sign of uneasiness about Donny.
"Come on, if you're THAT concerned, let's go check it out," he said, grabbing Drake's hand and pulling him toward the coat check area.
The glowering bouncer, whom JJ waved to and addressed as 'Kyle', was still on guard, and as they strolled slowly past him, they peered into the gloom just beyond him. The brothers had Donny turned around now, and the first one was pressed up against the kid's back while the other one was biting his neck and pinching his nipples. Donny's arms were up around the man's neck and the noises that were coming out of him could not really be construed as cries of pain.
JJ's sparkling eyes met Drake's, which were as round as saucers. "Drake you are SUCH a worrywart," he teased, as he tucked his arm through his partner's. "They're all having fun and Donny would be really pissed if you went and rescued him."
"Well, it sure doesn't LOOK like fun," grumbled Drake, blushing. Jesus, he was glad he had his coat on. For some strange reason his penis had gotten confused and was acting like there had been a woman in that sex act he had just witnessed, when clearly there hadn't. He told himself it was because he was not in the habit of watching much pornography, and had never, in fact, seen a threesome, and witnessing those guys with Donny so unexpectedly like that had just accidentally activated the part of his brain that was reserved for porn.
He was so wrapped up in trying to classify and explain to himself his reaction to what those two guys had been doing to Donny that it was almost two blocks before he realized that JJ's arm was still tucked through his.
"Hey there, partner, time to let go now," he reminded JJ, trying to free his arm. But JJ just clung harder and complained about being cold.
"Drake, I don't wanna take the subway. I'll spring for a taxi. Come on let's get one." JJ was looking around, hoping to spot one of the familiar yellow vehicles. Drake saw a cab first and successfully hailed it. Shivering, JJ eagerly climbed in first and pulled Drake in after him. Drake lived closer to this area than JJ did, so he would be getting out first. He gave the driver their addresses, and as he did so, he was conscious that JJ was edging closer to him.
"Dude, what are you doing?"
"Just trying to steal some of your warmth, that's all." JJ picked up Drake's right arm and wrapped it around his own shoulders.
"JJ!" Drake tried unsuccessfully to tug his arm back again, but JJ had a good grip on his hand and was now snuggling up to him.
"Aw, come on, Drakey," he mumbled sleepily. "We're not hurting anybody. And no one will see, anyway...Your secret's safe with me..."
Drake endured a brief inner battle and finally gave up. JJ was right; no one would see. And what harm could it do just this once? His partner was already asleep and his body was a pleasant weight against his side. He allowed himself to relax. The taxi was like their own private little mobile sanctuary, racing through the night, leaving prying eyes and judgment and rigid definitions of what constituted straight and gay behind them.
Your secret's safe with me. What the hell had he meant by that? Damn if this wild and crazy evening hadn't broken his brain. Oh well, it was all too much to think about now. He would review everything in his mind tomorrow.
JJ slept on and Drake gently stroked his back while the city pulsed around them.