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“When you’ve spent a long time trying to disguise who you are, that first place of freedom you find will always be special,” Rachel said. “The power of a community who supports you really can’t be underestimated. That’s why we make ourselves available as mentors.”
“Supporting the next generation of kinky folks keeps the community headed in the right direction,” Mark said. He chuckled as he patted Manson on the back. “I seem to remember this one waltzing in here not only lying about his age, but about his experience!”
Manson winced at the memory, a rare sheepish look on his face. “I spent a bit too much time ‘educating’ myself on BDSM fantasy blogs,” he explained to Jess. “I may have once told Mark a very extended lie about being an expert with a bullwhip.”
Jessica’s eyes widened, and she laughed when Rachel added, “We figured out his lie the moment I actually put a whip in his hands.”
Jessica, Rachel, and Manson went on chatting. Lucas had edged further into the booth and away from the people walking by. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and perhaps to most people, he looked slightly bored.
I knew him too well to be fooled by that. He was nervous being in public. The crowds, the sounds, the claustrophobia of being trapped inside with limited exits.
“Been a while since you went out?” Mark said, speaking to Lucas and snapping the man out of his distant expression.
“Yeah, I guess it has,” he said. He watched a group of people as they passed, eyes narrowed at their laughter. “Every time I’ve left the house lately has turned out to be a shitshow for me. Hard to get excited about going out when you have to wonder if you’ll end up fighting for your life.”
Mark nodded, his gaze downcast in understanding. “Too many of us have had to spend our lives living in fear. But that’s exactly what they want. The folks who claim to hate you, those who are willing to hurt you, they’d prefer that we all stay hidden away. When judging and shaming us doesn’t work, they’ll try violence. Then they’ll offer thoughts and prayers when people end up dead on account of their hate.”
Someone laughed too loudly behind him and Lucas flinched again. But this time, slowly, Jason grasped Lucas’s arm and drew close to him, positioning his body between Lucas and the walkway. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t need to.
We protected our own. We had to.
“The world isn’t a very friendly place,” Lucas said. But his voice softened, some of the tension gone out of it. He stood a little taller when Jason touched him, as if he’d suddenly remembered who he was. “It’s not so bad when you have the right people though. I just get caught up in my head sometimes.”
It wasn’t that simple, we all knew it. Finding that line between living with caution and living in fear seemed almost impossible sometimes. Lucas had plenty to fear. We all did.
We chatted for a few minutes longer, before we left Rachel and Mark to enjoy their night. As we left their booth, I put my arm around Lucas’s shoulders, gave him a kiss on the cheek that made him groan at the affection, and said softly, “You’re being really damn brave, you know.”
He winced, looking at me as if in pain. “Don’t start saying nice things to me, man. Come on, I’m...I don’t...” He sighed. “Thank you.”
Manson overhead us, because he looked over his shoulder and said, “Hey, be gentle with him. Being forced to listen to nice things about himself is a soft limit.”
Jess fell into step alongside me, saying, “We’re going to need to push that limit a bit more.”
I was eager for Jess to get a look at our own VIP booth, so I grasped her hand as I led the way. Our booth was at the very end of the walkway, right above the DJ. A large sectional black couch occupied the majority of the space, with a low glass table in the middle. A bottle of champagne sat in an ice bucket on the table, alongside multiple glasses. The back wall and ceiling were mirrors, and the lights that dangled overhead were designed in long strips, like glowing streaks of rain.
Manson took a seat, spreading his legs comfortably. Lucas moved to sit beside him, but Manson stopped him with a hand on his chest.
“On your knees,” he said, pointing to the floor between his legs. “Where pups belong.”
The curtain surrounding our booth was still open, and anyone who passed could easily see inside. I flopped down comfortably on the couch, stretching my arms as Jason sat beside me. Jess hesitated for a moment, torn between sitting at my side or joining Manson and Lucas.
Manson made the choice easy for her. “You too, angel. Get over here.”
Happy to watch the show, I sipped my drink and settled in.
