Who: Derrick and Lee
When: Tonight
Where: The Dragon's Lair


"Boss! Hey, Boss!" Steve calls out from across the diminishing crowd still stirring around on the dance floor.

Derrick hears the sound of the bouncer's voice and looks up from his place at the end of the bar to see Steve approaching, his hands full of someone who looks like they might be ready to pass out.

"What's up?" asks Derrick as he slides off his bar stool.

"Found this guy outside. Musta been in a fight or something cause he's bleeding," Steve explains as he props the limp man against a bar stool and pushes back his hair to show Derrick the blood.

"What the fuck... Steve! You fuckin' moron, get him outta here." Derrick says angrily when he recognizes the young man's face.

"But Boss..."

"But nothing! Get him outta here. Now!"

Lee's eye manage to focus on the angry man. "Shit," he moans. "Of all the luck."

Derrick shakes his head and looks at Steve, expecting him to do as he says.

The bouncer hesitates as he stares at Derrick with uncertainty. "What if the cops find him outside?" he asks. "You know they've been coming around a lot at closing."

"And that's why I don't want this underage kid in my bar," Derrick grinds out between gritted teeth.

"But he's busted up. A bleeding kid is worse than a kid," Steve points out.

Derrick looks at Lee and then back at Steve. "Shit. Put him in my office. And for fucksake don't let anybody see you doing it," he barks.

Lee leans against Steve and lets him lead the way through the back hall. There's a black leather couch in the office and the bouncer props him up there, looking back and forth at the door nervously.

"I need to get back out there," he says with a jerk of his thumb, and Lee nods. "Boss will be in to check on you, I'm sure."

Steve hightails it out of the office, trying to get out of the line of fire from Derrick's anger.

Derrick spots Steve as he hurries back to the front. With an irritated sigh, he grabs a couple clean towels from the bar and heads back to his office. Opening the door, he sees Lee and tosses the towels to him.

"You better not get any blood on my couch," he warns.

"I'm being careful, boss," Lee sighs, grabbing the towels and pressing one to the open cut on his cheek.

"Don't call me boss. I'm not your boss," grumbles Derrick as he walks into the small bathroom at the back of his office. He returns with a bottle of alcohol and some bandages.

"Well if you told me your name, I'd call you that instead." Lee dabs at his face, finding the bleeding has almost stopped. He traces his finger across his lip, finding a split along the swelling flesh.

Derrick puts his fingers under Lee's chin and tilts his head back. "Bet you fifty bucks that your smart ass mouth is the reason for your face looking like this. Am I right?"

"Don't have fifty bucks," Lee grumbles.

"Still say it's a safe bet," Derrick shoots back as he hands Lee the alcohol and starts unwrapping a bandaid. "Name's Derrick," he adds quietly.

"Nice to meet you Derrick," Lee says as he accepts the bottle and uncaps it. "Should I even ask why a bar has such a well stocked first aid kit in the manager's office?"

"Drinking and fighting. Where there's one, there's usually the other," answers Derrick. "Turn this way," he tells Lee before putting the bandage over the cut on his cheek. "Now," Derrick stares down at him. "Tell me how you got this way because you don't smell like you've been drinking."

"You threw me out before I got anything to drink," Lee smirks, regretting it instantly when the cuts on his face burn. "Just picked the wrong guy I guess," he says more seriously. "Happens sometimes."

Derrick shakes his head, a crooked smile curving his lips. He knew the kid was a hustler the minute he met him. The boy reminded him of someone... oh, that's right. Him. "Didn't want to pay or couldn't get off without a punching bag?" he asks as he walks around his desk and takes a seat.

"Little of both," Lee admits, finding that Derrick surprises him more and more every minute. "Seems like you know all about that?"

"I know a lot of things," Derrick chuckles as he reaches for a cigarette. "I know you're not doing that shit for the hell of it. So what's your story? Drugs?"

Lee shakes his head, using the alcohol and towel to clean the dried blood from his hands. "Drugs cost money. Money I don't have."

"Then what? Kid like you should be at home, planning for prom or some shit like that. Not blowing guys in the alley for some spare change."

"Food. Safe place to sleep when I can find one. Keeping my clothes clean and nice enough that I can pick up real work at the bars for a few months until someone looks too close at the books."

A runaway. Derrick fishes in his jeans pocket for his lighter, a silver dragon that Alyx gave him for his birthday. He lights his cigarette and blows a puff of smoke into the air. "Not much of a reason for me to hire you then, is it?"

"Nope," Lee answers honestly. "But I have a feeling you have a soft spot for guys like me."

"Oh you do, huh?" Derrick smiles then takes another drag of his cigarette. "I can honestly say that no one has ever accused me of having a soft spot."

"You just haven't been with the right people then." Lee sets the towel down and tears off the paper on the bandages.

"I don't think that's the reason why," laughs Derrick.

Lee peels off the paper backing from the band-aid and presses it across the back of his knuckles. "We'll see about that," he teases.

"You want some aspirin?" Derrick asks. "I saw some in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom," he tells Lee while he takes another lazy draw on his cigarette.

"Nah, just makes it bleed more." Lee gathers together the mess of bandages and towels and tries to stand up from the couch, wincing as a stabbing pain shoots through his side. He falls back onto the couch, his face growing paler. "Gonna have to get my strength back up and try that again," he jokes weakly.

Derrick leans forward in his seat, watching Lee closely. "Did he get you in your ribs?"

"Yeah." Lee presses his hand against his ribs, the pressure easing the pain a bit. "Think he might have had steel-toed boots on."

"Do you think you need to go to a hospital to get checked out? Dyin' on that couch isn't allowed either."

"No need to worry. I'll save my dying until I'm back outside." Lee makes sure to keep his breaths shallow this time as he stands up, steading himself by holding on to the arm of the couch. "See? I can make it."

"Did you at least get some money out of the guy before he beat the shit out of you?" Derrick asks him as he slowly gets to his feet, too.

"Part of it. That's where the disagreement came in." Lee throws away the trash from the bandages and gathers up the bloody towels. "Where should I put these?"

"There's a bin there right inside the bathroom," he tells him, moving to sit on the edge of his desk while he continues to watch Lee. There's something about the boy that's gnawing at him and as hard as he tries to ignore it, he finds himself asking, "You gotta place to stay tonight?"

Lee crosses the room carefully and drops the towels in the bin. "If you aren't careful, I'm gonna start thinkin' you actually care about what happens to me," Lee says, hoping that it really is genuine concern he's hearing in Derrick's voice.

"Quit being a smart ass and answer the question," Derrick growls, irritated that Lee won't answer and even more irritated that he asked it in the first place.

"There's a shelter a couple blocks over. I'll probably see if they have room tonight." Lee doesn't like talking about his situation but he also doesn't want to risk pissing Derrick off.

"Yeah. And the bums and creeps that hang out there will smell you like sharks in the water. You wanna lose that money you got beat down for?"

"Not really, but I'm not going and knocking on my friends' doors at this time of night looking for a place to crash." Lee steps closer to Derrick, trying to pass by him and get to the door.

"You can crash at my place," Derrick mumbles. "On the couch," he adds when he sees a hopeful grin forming on Lee's face.

"How am I supposed to thank you for your generosity if I'm on the couch?" Lee asks with mock innocence.

"You can thank me by staying out of my way." Derrick extinguishes what is left of his cigarette and turns toward the door. "And not stealing anything."

Lee shoots him an offended look. "Glad you think so highly of me."

"Shouldn't tell people that you're a thief if you want them to trust you," Derrick points out as he opens the office door.

"Ouch," Lee says, clutching his chest. "Kick a man while he's down, why don't you."

"Learn to keep your mouth shut sometimes," Derrick shoots back as he leads Lee through the almost empty club.

"Most men prefer my mouth open." When Derrick glares at him over his shoulder, Lee mimes zipping his mouth shut and continues to follow him silently.

"Hey Steve," Derrick calls the man standing next to the door. "The coast clear?" he asks, tossing his keys to Steve when he responds. "Can you lock up for me?"

"Sure thing, Boss."

"Let's go," Derrick tells Lee as he heads out the front door of the club.

Lee stays silent until the are down the block. "Thanks," he says quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he trails along after Derrick.

"Where you from, kid?" Derrick asks as he gestures for Lee to take a left at the corner.

"Bay St. Louis. Moved around a bunch after the storm and landed here. It was pretty easy to get people to look the other way about my age when everywhere needed people to work."

"Your family know you're in New Orleans?" asks Derrick when Lee doesn't exactly come out and admit that he's a runaway.

"Not exactly." Lee can tell that Derrick knows he's dodging the question but he hopes the other man will let it go.

"How old are you?" pushes Derrick.

"You sure you want to know? Right now you can still plead ignorance."

Derrick stops walking, turning to glare at Lee, his chin tilted in irritation.

"Seventeen." Lee doesn't move, waiting for the inevitable get lost he used to hearing when that number passes his lips.

"Show me your ID." Derrick holds out his hand expectantly.

"Which one?" Lee can't resist asking as he digs out his wallet carefully so as not to reopen the cuts on his hands.

Derrick drops his hand and stalks off down the street.

Lee slides his real ID from behind his fake and quickens his step, trying to catch up to Derrick despite the pain in his ribs. "Here," he says, thrusting the card in front of the other man.

Taking the ID, Derrick looks at it then looks at Lee. "This the real one?" he asks, thinking the picture of Lee looks even younger than the boy himself.

"Yes." Lee answer, hoping the honesty is evident in his voice.

"Emiliano," Derrick says with an Italian inflection to his voice and a slight smile on his lips. "Good name."

"Most people can't pronounce it right, so I just go by Lee," he says, slightly impressed that Derrick got it right.

"Well... Emiliano." Derrick hands the ID card back to him. "That's my place up there. The blue with the balcony."

Lee slides the card back into his wallet, tucking it behind his fake. He nods when Derrick points out his apartment, still unsure if the other man will change his mind and rescind the offer to stay over. "Looks nice."

"It's okay. Place to sleep. I'm on the second floor," he tells Lee as he unlocks the door to the building's foyer, revealing a staircase leading up to the next level.

Lee heads up the stairs in front of Derrick, his fingers trailing along the railing. "I love the old places like this. So much character. One of the things I love about this city."

Derrick doesn't say anything, stepping around Lee when they reach the top to unlock the door to his apartment. He switches on a lamp near the door and enters the sparsely decorated living room. The only furniture is a couch, a coffee table and the small table with a lamp by the door. "Home Sweet Home," he murmurs as he drops his keys on the coffee table.

"Going for the minimalist style?" Lee asks with a smile.

"What?" asks Derrick, following Lee's gaze. "Oh. Yeah, I guess. At least the couch is comfortable. Lucky for you."

"Thanks for letting me stay here tonight. The prospect of a hot shower and a comfortable couch is probably the most exciting thing to happen to me all week."

"Who said anything about a hot shower?" replies Derrick, his teasing smirk lets Lee know that he's only joking. "Bathroom's through there," he says as he gestures toward the bedroom.

"Care to join me?" Lee asks over his shoulder as he starts toward the bathroom.

Derrick's eyebrow arches as he shoot Lee a glare of warning, watching the boy saunter his way into the bedroom.

Lee laughs softly at Derrick's cross look. He closes the bathroom door behind him, but doesn't lock in just in case Derrick changes his mind. Stripping out of his dirty, bloodstained clothes he turns up the hot water until it's practically scalding and starts scrubbing himself down.

Opening his closet, Derrick pulls out an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt that he thinks might be okay for Lee. Derrick is slender, but not as thin as his young guest. He lays them on the bed then knocks on the bathroom door to let Lee know that they are out there before he heads back out to the living room.

Lee sticks his head out from behind the curtain when he hears the knock, but to his disappointment, Derrick doesn't come in. He finishes up quickly, and dries off, wrapping a towel around his waist. He opens the door to the bedroom and lets the steam billow out. As the mirror starts to clear he twists to the side and examines the deep crimson bruise blossoming across his ribs.

Derrick walks back into the bedroom, a glass of amber liquid in each hand. He lets out a low whistle when he spots the bruise on Lee's skin. "That's a beut. Fraid this is the only pain killer I have right now," he says as he holds a glass out to Lee.

"This will do just fine." Lee accepts the glass and takes a swig before setting it down on the counter. He presses his fingers against the bruise, feeling gingerly along the line of each rib. "Looks like I got lucky and it's only a bruise."

"You're gonna be sore as hell in the morning," warns Derrick before he takes a long swallow of his drink. "Where'd you find that guy anyway?" he asks as he takes a seat on the foot of his king size bed, the only piece of furniture in the room.

"Ran into him on the street right after you threw me out," Lee says with a wry smile, picking up his glass and walking into the bedroom. He leans against the doorframe, his towel slipping lower around his narrow hips.

"So he wasn't in the club?" Derrick takes another sip of his bourbon, his gaze moving from Lee's face to his exposed hip bone. A fleeting thought of what it might feel like to graze his teeth against that tender skin flutters across his mind as he lowers his glass.

"Not that I know of. I suppose he could have been in there and followed me out, but I think it was just a coincidence." Lee watches Derrick's eyes and pushes away from the door, stepping closer.

Derrick's eyes travel upward again as Lee gets nearer. "You'd remember him again if you saw him though, yeah?"

"Yes. I make it a habit not to forget guys like him. Don't want to run the risk of repeat offenders." Lee comes to a stop just inches from Derrick's knees.

Derrick nods. He takes another drink then gets to his feet, not bothering to move away from where he's standing too close to Lee. "I'm hungry," he says matter of factly.

"See anything you're hungry for?" Lee says softly, offering himself up to Derrick in return for the other man's generosity in giving him a place to stay.

"Not unless you have a pizza under that towel," replies Derrick.

Lee looks down, pulling the towel away from his hips and jokingly pretending to look. "Nope, can't say that I do."

Derrick pauses, his eyes raking over Lee's naked body. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out his cell phone. "Good thing I got Rotolo's on speed dial." Derrick presses the button and hold the phone to his ear, his eyes never leaving Lee as he orders a large pizza to be delivered.

Undeterred, Lee drops to his knees between Derrick's legs. "I should thank you for letting me stay," he says once Derrick hangs up.

A tiny voice in Derrick brain tells him to move. To tell Lee to stop. But he doesn't, he just stands there, staring down into the hazel eyes, suddenly filled with eagerness to please.

Lee reaches up, resting his hand on Derrick's thigh in a silent request for permission. He is surprised Derrick hasn't pulled away, but pleased he might be able to offer something in return for the other man's reluctant kindness.

"So what if the kid blows you?" Another voice in Derrick's head chimes in. "If he wants to do it, let him do it... it's not like you haven't been wondering what it would be like. Those lips wrapped around your cock."

Sensing Derrick's hesitation, Lee doesn't move, not wanting to break the silence of the room.

Derrick rests his hand on Lee's shoulder. "Come on, get up," he says quietly. "Stupid fuck," says the voice in his head.

Confused, Lee looks up. "Don't you want it?"

"That don't matter," Derrick snaps, his expression turning dark. "You're a seventeen year old kid and I'm trying to do the right thing here so will you just do what I fucking tell you to do?"

Lee scoops up his towel and rocks up onto his feet, securing it back around his waist. He silently curses himself for ruining the tiny bit of goodwill he'd built up with Derrick. "I'm sorry. I thought it was what you'd want from me in return for the place to stay."

Derrick's had his time in the gutter, but he isn't so low right now to make the kid give him sex in exchange for a decent place to crash tonight. "It's okay," he says, taking a step back and running a hand through his hair. "I know how it can be, but I'm not expectin' anything so just get dressed," Derrick tells him, gesturing toward the clothes still lying on the bed.

Scooping the clothes up, Lee steps back into the bathroom, avoiding Derrick's eyes until he can get the door shut. Wishing he had more of the bourbon he hangs up his towel and pulls on the clothes. He sits down on the edge the tub and rolls up the pant legs to keep them from dragging on the ground. Staring at his own reflection in the mirror, he feels adrift. He can't figure Derrick out, but he also doesn't want to turn down the offer of a warm dry place to sleep. Steeling himself for the imbalance he feels with Derrick, he reenters the bedroom.

Derrick is on the couch and smoking a cigarette when Lee comes out of the bedroom. "Pizza should be here in a minute," he says, breaking the silence of the room.

"Thanks," Lee says, not sure where to go in the sparsely furnished room. He settles for sitting down cross legged on the floor. "Haven't had pizza in a long time."

"Rotolo's makes a good one. Not as good as in New York, but for New Orleans it's okay."

"You from New York originally?" Lee is happy that Derrick is talking, he wants to know more about the other man.

"Yeah, New York City. Is the accent fading?" he asks with another one of his crooked smiles, using the hand with the cigarette to point toward himself.

"Just a bit," Lee laughs. "You've still got some in you."

"You don't sound like you're from Mississippi," says Derrick.

"Born and raised, unfortunately." Lee hugs his knees up to his chest. "How did you end up here?"

"Came down here for a job then decided to stay. No winters down here. No snow. No ice. Been here about four years now."

"Sounds like as good a reason as any to end up here. I think a lot of people come to visit and end up staying."

"Yeah, you're right. It's like New York that way. A lot of people who live here aren't from here." Derrick takes a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling the white smoke slowly.

"How did you end up running a bar? Sounds like that's not what you did before you came down here?" Lee rests his chin on his knees, looking up at Derrick.

"It was something that I always wanted to do. Thought I'd be good at it. It's worked out pretty good so far."

"Looked like a good crowd there tonight.....from the short time I was there," Lee laughs.

Derrick is quiet as he takes another puff of his cigarette. "It's nothing personal, kid. I've been getting hassled a lot by the police lately and I don't need to get shut down for underage drinking, capiche?"

"Hassled for good reason?" Lee knows enough about the cops in the Quarter to know they usually look the other way unless they think they can make the "big case."

Derrick smiles. "There's never a good reason to get hassled by the cops in my book. But if they want to waste their time fishing, I just gotta make sure that they don't catch anything."

"Well good luck with that," Lee teases gently. "I"m guessing one underaged kid in your bar might be the least of your worries."

"And why would you guess that?"

"Well the first day I walked into your bar, you accused me of being sent by someone. I'm guessing you thought a cop was trying a sting op on you, right?" Lee ticks that off on his fingers before moving on. "As incoherent as I was, I distinctly remember your eagerness to get me out of your office when I was bruised and bleeding. Instead of being concerned that someone might have gotten hurt on your property, you were concerned someone might see me there. Seems a little odd, right?"

"Only to someone who knows what to look for," replies Derrick. "So how come you played nice and didn't give me any trouble?"

"Me? Trouble? I'm never any trouble," Lee says innocently.

Derrick opens his mouth to say something but he's interrupted by the sound of his front door buzzer. "Pizza's here," he says as he gets up to go press the button to allow the delivery man to get inside to the staircase.

Lee stays on the floor, waiting until Derrick has paid for the food and sent the delivery boy on his way. "You don't survive on your own for long without being observant and knowing when to stay quiet."

"Want something to drink with this?" Derrick asks as he sets the pizza box on the coffee table. "I think I might have a Coke in the fridge."

"I'll take whatever you're having. Don't want to be a bother." Lee scoots over toward the table and settles in with his back against the arm of the couch.

"Stop sayin' that. I'll let you if you're botherin' me." Derrick walks into the kitchen, returning with a Coke for Lee and a beer for him.

Lee takes the drink gratefully and waits for Derrick to open the pizza box. "Sorry. I'm still trying to figure out how to act around you."

"You don't have to act like anything. Just be yourself," replies Derrick as he takes a seat on the couch again. "No wait..." he adds quickly. "If being yourself is letting that smart ass mouth get the best of you, then maybe you should act a little." Derrick smiles as he opens the pizza box.

"I'm just used to everything having a price of some kind. Not used to people being nice just for the sake of being nice, you know?" Lee slides a piece of pizza into his hand and blows on the steaming cheese to cool it down. "And I think secretly you like my smart mouth."

Derrick shakes his head and smiles. He likes Lee's mouth all right. He likes it more than he cares to admit to himself. "Well, I'm not used to being nice. So enjoy it while it lasts."

"I will," Lee grins. He bites into the pizza, catching the strings of cheese with his fingers.