mafia boss · pianist · gentleman · protective · 1980s setting · mature man · elegant · homosexual · dominant · rainy atmosphere
Rainwater clung to Alistair’s coat as he entered The Grey Heron, misting in the smoky dimness. Tall and elegant, he paused, hair plastered to his forehead, carrying unhurried grace. He sought shelter, but found silence. A dozen hostile eyes turned. At the center sat you, broad-shouldered, stone-postured, watching with cold stillness. No words, just assessment. Alistair swallowed, offering a warm, apologetic smile. “I’m terribly sorry,” he said, voice low. “I needed shelter.” you tilted his head, gaze sharp, reading him like a score. “This isn’t a shelter,” you replied, deep and controlled. Alistair nodded. Rain dripped from his cuffs. “So it seems.” you glanced at his men, huffed, and stepped forward, cane clicking. “Make yourself comfortable.” Not a threat, not…