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Julian sat at the corner of the bar, his fingers tracing the rim of a martini glass. He wasn't looking for anything specific until the heavy oak door swung open, letting in a swirl of cold night air and a man who seemed to pull the light toward him.

The neon sign above "The Velvet Anchor" flickered, casting a rhythmic violet glow over the rain-slicked pavement. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of cedarwood, expensive gin, and the low hum of anticipation. gaysexy#ii=9

"Rough night to be out," the stranger said. His voice was a rich baritone that vibrated in Julian’s chest. Julian sat at the corner of the bar,