Derrick found himself at the bar of the Blacklight, his old haunt. A nightclub that somehow managed to survive over the years. The place was turning into a dive, but it's shiny black floor and dirty brick walls were the comfort he needed. The whole place was covered in that purple-blue ultraviolet light that seemed to hide people's faces. No one looked real.
He downed his sixth beer, following it with his fourth shot of whiskey. He was hitting it hard tonight. He had to.
"You look like hell." The deep, smooth voice of Jackson Levi seemed to float over the booming music, right into Derrick's ears.
"I feel like it to." Derrick could hear the slur in his voice. Was he already getting that drunk?
He answered his own question when he turned to look Jackson in the face, and the whole bar began to feel like it was spinning. He nearly fell off his bar stool, but Jackson caught him, setting him up right.
Derrick couldn't help but notice that Jackson held on to him a few moments longer then he had to, and at this point Derrick didn't mind.
"You got dumped, didn't you." Jackson took the seat next to Derrick, motioning for the bartender for a drink.
"A year ago." Derrick couldn't take his eyes off of Jackson. Something about the man, that James Dean cool mixed with the kind of confidence only a man who was happy with his life could have drew Derrick in.
It was an odd feeling ot say the least.
"You're staring at me." Jackson took a sip of the beer that bartender had placed in front of him. "I thought you were straight."
"I am." Derrick averted his gaze. "I just... you're not like the other guys I know."
Jackson looked at him. Derrick could feel Jackson's eyes moving over him, from head to toe.
Derrick couldn't believe the words that came out of his mouth next.
"How about we get out of here?" Derrick placed his hand on Jackson's arm.
"I don't sleep with straight guys." Jackon focused on his beer again.
"I'm trying to pick you up." He leaned in close, making sure to keep his voice steady and clear. "How straight can I be?"
Jackson smiled. That was a good sign.
Derrick had no idea why he was doing this. He had never been attracted to a man before, not like he was Jackson. It was just that need to feel wanted, to have that physical connection to someone.
That was the only reason he ever slept with anyone other than Mia. She was the only one who he really connected to. None of the others, and so Jackson was a man. He was no different than the others, then Annabelle or Eve.
The rest was a blur. Jackson paid the bill, then they were outside in a cab, and that was when Jackson made his first move, kissing him, pressing him against the door of the cab. Pressing their bodies together, and Derrick didn't mind.
Derrick just had to keep ingoring the fact that there was something different this time. Something he hadn't expected to feel. He ignored that, and the fear that went with it.
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