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Bart's Back Alley, Stream Ridge's favorite dive bar, was packed past capacity. They were usually busy, but tonight was something else. Spade's Diamond-Heart Club, without a doubt the biggest local band on the scene, was throwing a party. They just signed with a regional imprint label, had a small tour in the works, and so were in a mood to celebrate.

They were all students from the university, though at the rate they were going, probably not for much longer. The singer was majoring in modern lit, which is what brought Kevin Stair to the party. Alex was one of his favorite pupils, always engaged and full of insight. Kevin wasn't himself much of a fan of live music since his idols had retired, but the Tangles, his downstairs neighbors and good friends, were.

They were inside, enjoying the cheap drinks and whatever local band was playing to warm up the crowd, while Kevin was outside, enjoying the cool night air and second hand smoke from the tobacco addicts banished from impolite company. He didn't much like the smell of tobacco, but he was willing to put up with it if it kept his ears from ringing for the rest of the week.

"Hey man, got a cigarette?"

Kevin turned around. The request came from a middle-aged badger in jeans, a leather jacket, and an Alice in Chains T-shirt, which stretched quite fetchingly over his belly and moobs. The white stripe down the center of his face was starting to lose definition, but only just. Kevin put him in his early forties.

"Sorry," he said, "I don't smoke."

"Me neither... unless I'm at a bar. You'd think the fucking smoke ban would have put a stop to that, but nope. There's just something about 'em, bars. Just makes you want to light the fuck up and punch somebody."

Kevin nodded sagely at this. The badger walked off to find a generous soul with a smoke. Kevin watched him leave, taking note despite himself that while the badger's jeans weren't tight, they still showed off a nice round rump. Kevin went back to outlining his next book in his head.

"So, you come here to see the Diamond-Heart Club?"

Kevin was startled by the sudden question. The badger was back, now holding a lit cigarette between his lips.

"Yes. I'm a professor at the University. I have Alex in one of my classes," Kevin said after taking a moment to regain his composure.

"Oh yeah? You must be Stair, then. Alex talks about you. He never mentioned you were cute, though."

"Oh, you know him?" Kevin asked, letting the compliment pass without comment.

"All his fucking life," the badger said as he took the cigarette between his ring and middle fingers and examined the cherry. Kevin noticed what he thought was a wedding band. "You here alone or with friends? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?" The last word he said hopefully.

"My neighbors are inside. They're the biggest reason I'm here. They figured since I knew the singer we could get the cover knocked off," Kevin said.

"Did it work?" the badger asked.

"No."

The badger laughed, "Fucking A," then he took a long drag on his cigarette and said, "You didn't answer the second half of my question."

"I didn't," Kevin said, looking away. After an uncomfortable minute, the badger slapped himself on the forehead.

"Oh, fuck, yeah. You don't even know my name, do you? Here I am hitting on you and I haven't even fucking introduced myself yet. You must think I'm the biggest fucking creepy fucker. Sorry, it's the bar again, something about bars just makes me want to find the cutest fucker I can get my hands on and fucking get some."

"You like to say fuck a lot, don't you?"

The badger laughed again, harder than before. "Fuck yeah, best fucking word in the whole fucking English language." He stuck out his hand, "Anthony Barrow, friends call me Ant."

"Kevin Stair," Kevin said, taking the hand firmly, "Barrow? Then you must be Alex's--"

"Dad!" Anthony turned his head, Kevin followed. Alex's head stuck through the doorway to the bar, "come on, it's time to set up."

"I'll be right there," he said and turned back to Kevin. "Welp, time to get to work. You going to come inside and watch the show, or you going to stay out here with these nicotine sucking fuckers?"

He didn't wait for an answer. He spun on the balls of his feet and launched himself at the door. As if dragged by his wake, Kevin followed.

Kevin found the Tangles at a table with half a dozen empty shot glasses spread across it. Sheila and George were well into their seventies now, but neither showed any signs of slowing down. He had no idea how they managed it. Sometimes their life seemed a rollercoaster of excess, with Sheila dragging George behind her like a train engine.

He sat next to them.

"Kev! Where have you been?" Sheila shouted into his ear. It wasn't quite loud enough in the bar to be necessary, which told Kevin that most of those glasses had gone into her.

"Out front, it was too loud in here."

"If it's too loud, you're too old," she said, and laughed. George silently slid a small plastic box over to Kevin. He found a set of earplugs inside. He looked up at George, his expression a question.

"You should have said something. You're not the only one who thinks that it would be nice to hear tomorrow," he said at a more appropriate volume than his wife.

Kevin sat back in his chair and watched Anthony set up the drums. His motions were quick and precise. He bent over to adjust the bass drum and Kevin reaffirmed his assessment. That man had a nice ass. The badger stepped aside to let the sound guy put up his mics and Kevin turned his attention to the rest of the bar.

It wasn't very big, but that didn't stop two hundred people from squishing themselves in. He could barely see the decorations through the bodies, but from what he could see, the walls, were painted like a back-lot alley, where they weren't bare cinderblock. The lights were dim. It had a purposefully tacky feeling that Kevin found irritating, like it was trying too hard to be a dive.

The sound checks started and Kevin switched from the decorating to the denizens. They were all decades younger than he, kids from the college mostly, he recognized some faces, but he felt very out of place. What was he even doing here? He glanced over at the Tangles, who seemed completely at ease. Well, of course they were. Sheila didn't know, or refused to admit, that she was past the age where she could fit in anywhere. He envied her. Surrounded by all these kids, he felt his age acutely.

"Hello, you guys know us; we're Spade's Diamond-Heart Club. We're going to play some songs." Alex's voice cut through his thoughts. Then another voice that he recognized jumped in accompanied by the clicking of drumsticks.

"One, two, three, four, let's go, fuck 'em all!"

Cymbals crashed, amps exploded and SDHC threw themselves into the first number. Kevin's eyes snapped to the stage.

Anthony sat behind the drum kit, bashing them like a maniac, seemingly throwing his whole body in every direction at once. Kevin had assumed he was acting as a roadie, not that he was a member of the band. It looked odd to have a single member twice as old as all the others, especially as the drummer. After spending only a few minutes with him, though, Kevin knew he shouldn't have been surprised.

Kevin closed his eyes and let the music wash over him. He was surprised at how much he liked it. Most modern music passed him by completely -- though admittedly, this was mostly due to snobbery on his part -- but this was something else. It was loud and exciting, but not stupid, heavy, but not so much that it drove away all but the most desensitized. There was real-life singing, interweaving guitar parts, clever drum fills, everything Kevin loved. Every song had something new and different to catch his attention.

All too soon, the set was over and the band stepped off the stage to be swallowed by the crowd. Kevin looked to his companions. Sheila was shaking her husband awake. Sheepishly, he straightened up in his seat.

"Did I snore?" he asked.

"Yes, but the music covered it up," Sheila replied.

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You looked too cute."

"But I missed half the show," he said.

She kissed him and said, "I'll give you a show later to make up for it."

"Goddamned Viagra," he muttered.

"I heard that"

Kevin looked away. They always teased each other like that. It was sweet, but it also reminded Kevin of what he'd been missing these past years. He stood and leaned over to speak into Sheila's ear, not wanting to shout.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," he said.

"You want some help? I can send George with you, I'm sure he'd be glad to give you a hand."

"Thanks, but no thanks. George's hands are always cold."

"They are not!" George said. Kevin left the table.

Before he could make it to the gents, he ran into Alex.

"Dr. Stair! What did you think of the show?" he shouted against the din.

"I loved it. You guys have real talent."

"Nah, we're just cribbing from the masters."

"That's what the masters did, so you're in good company," Kevin said, patting him on the shoulder.

"Speaking of good company, was my Dad bothering you? He can come on a little strong when we're at shows. At home he's like a little kitten, but once he gets out into public he turns into some kind of monster."

"No, he was alright," Kevin said. It wasn't entirely true, but he didn't see any reason to say so.

"Stair! How'd you like it?" Anthony surged through the crowd and gave both of them an enormous and tight hug. He smelled like booze and cigarettes. And cum. Kevin felt something wet on his forehead where Anthony's head had touched his. He put his fingertips to it. It felt like cool jelly. He wiped it away quietly.

"Dad, what the fuck? You got jizz on me. It had better not fucking be yours." Anthony shouted, wiping his own forehead with his sleeve.

"What?" Anthony said, and felt his own forehead and found the congealed present waiting there. "That fucker said I got it all off. Maybe it's time to get to that punching I mentioned." After a moment he shrugged, "Oh well, facials are nothing to be ashamed of."

"They are when you get some random dude's jizz on me. God, Dad, you're like a big gay Spinal Tap parody. And Spinal Tap was already a parody."

"Hey, that's a good idea. We could call it Anal Tap. Let's get some capital together, I'll direct and star."

Kevin offered Anthony his handkerchief to clean himself up with as the currently congealed sperm was getting runny. He took it, used it, and was about to hand it back when he realized what he'd used it for.

"I'll wash it and get it back to you," he said.

"That's not necessary," Kevin said.

"No, I'm not going to give you back a cummy handkerchief. Besides, I might get hungry later."

Alex groaned. Anthony slipped the soiled hanky into his pocket and started sliding away.

"Oh, hey, Stair, the stall in the men's room is really fucking comfortable. If you want to try it out, just let me know," he called as he disappeared into the crowd again.

"Dad, quit drinking, we've still got another set and I don't need you falling off your throne," Alex shouted after him, but both knew if he had heard he would probably ignore it. "Oh, God, I am so sorry," he said, burying his face in his hands.

"No worries," Kevin said, "this isn't the first time I've had jizz on my face... That was probably more information than you required."

"I live with my dad. I'm used to having more information that I require. Uh, well, enjoy the rest of the night, we're going to play another set in a little bit, stick around if you like. I'm glad you came to see us." Alex extended his hand and Kevin took it.

"So am I."

Kevin looked at the bathroom doors, saw Anthony go through behind an apparently gelatin dog, and made a beeline back to his table.

"How did it go?" Shelia asked as he sat down.

"Never made it. Apparently there's an orgy going on in there."

"An orgy? Really?"

"I doubt you'd be very welcome there," George said, "Besides, you didn't bring your lube with you."

"Of course I brought my lube with me. I never leave home without it."

Their banter continued. Kevin listened for a while, but after a few minutes his attention wandered. Glancing at the bathroom, he saw the dog come back out, apparently satisfied with his experience, but Anthony was still inside. Kevin shook his head and turned his attention back to his table.

The Tangles had moved on to talking about what bands Spade's sounded like. Kevin still had to pee. He tried coming up with a contribution to the conversation, but all he could think about was his bladder.

"Okay, going to try again," he said.

"Checking out the orgy, eh?" Sheila said with a mock-knowing grin.

"Chancing it anyway," he said and departed.

This time he made it through the crowd without incident. The door to the bathroom opened just as Kevin put his hand on it and a young bull walked out with a grin on his face.

"That guy is a fucking magician," he said as he brushed by. Kevin paused at the entrance. The prospect of finding a bush and risking arrest was starting to look all right. It wasn't that he was afraid of what he might find, he and Herbert had taken advantage of more than one handicap stall in their day, but he was a college professor in a bar heavily frequented by college students. If word got back to his dean that he was taking part in men's room orgies, especially at such a place, he might lose his job or at the very least face censure. He didn't need the money, but he did love teaching.

"Hey, buddy, the door locked or something?"

Kevin, startled by the sudden speaker at his back, pushed inside.

It wasn't the porno scene he'd feared. There were no naked, writhing bodies and no line in front of a stall with a dozen punters pulling the pud waiting for their turn. For one, there were only four people in the room, counting Kevin and the rat that had been behind him. The other two were a man who Kevin was sure was Anthony with his pants around his ankles inside the stall, and a young shrew that Kevin recognized from campus with his pants around his hips in the doorway.

His hips were rocking back and forth, his teeth dug into his bottom lip, and his eyes squeezed shut. He grunted quietly, accompanied by louder wet sucking sounds. Kevin felt himself growing hard, which was going to make it difficult to pee.

Not wanting to feel like a creep, he moved to a urinal and unzipped. The rat next to him was finished already, and as he zipped himself up said, "that's fucking nasty, man." Then he was gone without even washing his hands.

Now Kevin was alone save the two in the stall. He held his erection in his hand, willing it to go down, but it wasn't listening. The shrew's low moans turned into loud panting groans.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum," he said.

The slurping stopped for a second, replaced by the sound of a well-lubricated hand pistoning up and down a prick. "Fuck yeah, right in my mouth," said a voice that definitely belonged to Anthony, then the slurping came back.

"Aw, fuck!" shouted the Shrew. Anthony started moaning and gulping loudly, apparently determined to put on a show for anyone who might be in the room with them. Just then, the door swung open.

"Dad, get that cock out of your mouth and get on stage, we're starting our second set," Alex. Kevin very carefully avoided looking up. He felt hot, embarrassed, like he'd been caught doing something. If Alex noticed him, he gave no sign.

"Be right there," Anthony said as the bathroom door closed again. "Thanks kid, you were just the treat I needed," he said to the student he'd been servicing.

"You're not going to cum?" the shrew said, disappointment in his voice.

"Naw, I'm saving that for some lucky fucker that's going to get the biggest fucking load of his life on as much of his fur as I can manage."

Kevin shivered. Still not helping him pee. Fabric rustled behind him, zippers zipped, buckles buckled. The door opened and closed, just long enough for one. He could still hear Anthony fixing himself in the stall. He didn't look up, still trying to will his erection to deflate so he could get on with his business.

"Stair, how's it hanging?" Anthony said. A weight dropped on Kevin's shoulder, he looked over and saw a hand with well-trimmed claws and past that, Anthony's face, the smell of alcohol, cock, and semen on his breath. He glanced down.

"Nice," he said. Kevin blushed. Anthony left his shoulder and checked his appearance in the mirror. Kevin could see him out of the corner of his eye, but turned his head to get a better look. Anthony noticed him looking and turned.

"Did I miss anything?" he asked. Kevin didn't see anything, so he shook his head. "You sure? I'd hate to repeat my earlier generosity."

"I'm sure," Kevin said.

Anthony gave himself one final once over in the mirror and then turned to Kevin. He stepped close again, too close for comfort, his belly pressed into Kevin's back.

Kevin suddenly felt very vulnerable, alone with this man with his hard cock in his hands. He stuffed himself back in his pants, scraping the sensitive head against his zipper in his hurry. He spun around so they were face to face and tried to sidle away, but Anthony intercepted him.

"I know you heard what I said to that little shrew kid. Do you feel lucky?" Anthony said quietly, looking straight into Kevin's eyes. Kevin was at a loss for words. He wanted to step back, hell, he wanted to run. He knew the look in Anthony's eyes. It was the exact look Trista had had when he'd finally realized what was going on. Predatory lust.

"You're seriously the sexiest fucker in this place," he continued, leaning forward, "I've been in here blowing random kids for the past half hour, just hoping you'd come by so I could get my hands on you."

"Don't you need to get on stage," Kevin said, trying to back away, but feeling the urinal pressing into his back. Anthony leaned in until they were touching underbelly to upper belly. He could feel Anthony's hardness against his thigh, his own pressing into Anthony's belly. Then the badger stood up on his toes, their erections dragging next to each other in opposite directions, until his mouth was against Kevin's ear.

"I'm free afterwards, though, all night. And I bet under that uptight professor act, you're a motherfucking dynamo." Then Kevin heard his hot breath blowing across his ear, felt a hand cup his crotch. He tensed up, unwelcome memories flooding his head. Then he felt teeth on his ear, gentle and teasing.

Kevin shoved him away as hard as he could. Anthony flew across the room and crashed into the wall. Kevin hurtled to the door, threw it open, and then dashed for the exit. Once in the cool night air, he stumbled away from the building, looking for a place to hide.

He turned down a narrow alley between two buildings and stopped, leaning against a wall to catch his breath. The adrenaline high was already crashing down. His knees were weak, his hands shook, and his stomach roiled, but the fear was fading and he could think again.

He would have to answer questions now, questions he had carefully avoided giving reason to ask. You don't run from a public restroom like Hell was on your heels without people asking why. He looked at his hands, the sunken knuckle that bore witness to that night. Kevin felt hot tears on his face. He snarled and slammed the heel of his fist into the brick wall behind him.

Goddamn it, it wasn't fair. He should have been able to handle that, put Anthony off like a grown up and gone back to his table, not turn into a cornered deer. He was stronger than that.

His ear was cold. He felt it, still wet from Anthony's mouth, felt the tiny scar that Trista had left there, marking him as her conquest. He wiped the moisture away, on his ear and on his face.

"Kevin! Kevin, are you alright?"

Kevin looked up. George and Sheila were there, concern on their faces.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said, looking away from them, unable to meet their eyes.

"What did that motherfucking badger do?" Sheila asked.

"He didn't do anything, not really," Kevin said, still not looking at them.

"What's wrong, Kevin?" George said gently, "you can tell us, it's alright."

"I, uh, well..." Kevin looked at his knuckle again, it seemed to give him the strength he needed to speak. "I got raped."

"What!" Sheila shouted, "I'll fucking kill him, let me get my gun out of the car, goddamned motherfucker!" She turned back towards the bar.

"No! Not him, not tonight!" Kevin said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. Sheila stopped.

"When?" she demanded.

"Three weeks ago." Kevin looked at his feet.

"Three weeks? You didn't tell us for three weeks? Who did it?"

"I didn't tell you 'cause I didn't want to deal with this."

"You told the police, you had him arrested, right?"

"No." Kevin shook his head.

"No! What do you mean no? You can't not report a rape. You owe it to every rape victim, including and especially yourself. You can't let it stay invisible because you're embarrassed."

"I'm not embarrassed Sheila, I mean, I am, yeah, but that's not why I haven't reported it." Kevin told them the story as quickly as possible while still leaving in everything he thought was pertinent. The whole time he kept his eyes downcast.

He felt guilty. Guilty that he let it happen, guilty that he hadn't told them, guilty that he hadn't reported it, but mostly he felt guilty for not being strong enough to move past it.

"Okay," Sheila said when he was finished, "just to be clear. This Charlie kid looks like Herb, so you can't send him to jail."

"Because he was an unwilling party. Sheila, you didn't see this girl. She's... I don't know, a vamp, a man-eater. And Charlie's just a kid. He told me he didn't know what he was doing at the time, and I believe him."

"That's fucked up, Kevin, that's totally fucked up. So you're just going to let them get away with it. Just let them go on and live their lives gloating about what they did and got away with," Sheila said.

"Sheila, let it go," George said, the first thing he'd said since he'd told them. "You're not helping. Kevin's made his decision. Harping on him isn't going to change anything."

"I'm not--"

"Let it go," he barked. Sheila subsided. George never raised his voice to anyone. "Come on, Kevin," he said gently, "let's get you home."

Kevin pushed off the wall. George took him by the shoulder and led him back towards the bar. Kevin still had to pee.