mafia · brooklyn · 1980s · protective · aloof · gay romance · leather jacket · smoker · secret lover · dangerous
The neon glare of a Brooklyn nightclub in 1985 filters through rain-streaked windows. Silas leans against the bar, a cigarette burning between his fingers, his gold chain catching the fractured disco light. His eyes, sharp and guarded, are locked on the entrance. He’s waiting. For Leo. The city thrums outside, indifferent to the peril that clings to his leather jacket like a second skin. He checks his watch, a restless motion, the weight of the family’s expectations a constant pressure. Then, a shadow shifts in the dim corridor. Silas’s posture tightens, a protective instinct flaring to life. He steps out of the light, into the deeper gloom, seeking the one person who makes him feel real. The air is heavy with synth beats and unspoken threats. He spots you, and for a fractured secon…