Page 1 of Now Comes the Dark

Chapter One

The Viaduct

By eleven-thirty on Friday night, wallowing in the heat and scent of dozens of excited bodies and listening to the driving beat of one seamless dance track after another at a club called Sash, Roman realised he was horny. No big surprise. It was a near-permanent state for him most days, but tonight, the urge was stronger than ever. He wanted to feel skin against his skin, hot breath in his face, the hardness of one groin pressing into his.

He needed a man…and badly.

“I’m gonna move on,” he told his flatmate, having to shout directly into Ashley’s ear to be heard above the deafening music.

“We’re about to order another round,” Ashley yelled back, not taking his eyes off his boyfriend Patrick, who was deep in conversation with a muscle-man Roman didn’t recognise.

“You stay. I’m fine on my own.”

Ashley looked at him sideways, reluctant to take his attention off Patrick completely. “You know it’s not safe out there. Stay here with us. There’s another cabaret starting soon.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m not going far.”

Now Ashley gave him his full interest. “You’re not going to The Viaduct. Please tell me you’re not.”

Roman nodded. “I’ve had enough of it in here. It’s too noisy. But you stay. Enjoy it.”

“That place is a sewer,” Ashley grimaced. “A shithole. Only freaks and sluts go in there.”

Roman patted his friend on the shoulder. “That’s what I’m hoping for. Have a good night. I’ll see you in the morning, if not before.”

“If you’re still in one piece,” Ashley retorted before giving a reluctant nod. “Be careful…in every way.”

With a smile of reassurance, Roman slipped away.

As always, Sash was packed. It was Roman’s least favourite venue in the city, and he had to edge and slither his way through the crowd to reach the door. There was a queue six deep at the bar, while a DJ in full club-kid drag ignored the punters and focused on the music with life-or-death gravity. Roman didn’t care for this place at the best of times. The drinks were overpriced, and the atmosphere was more than a little crazed. Tomorrow would be the first Saturday in weeks when he didn’t have to go to work. A rare opportunity. He could stay out late, until the early hours, and didn’t want to waste his time in here, especially when his dick was calling the shots.

There was zero chance of him hooking up in Sash. The cliental were too self-important, too bloody cool or out of their minds on drugs to indulge in face-to-face flirting. They came in their packs and cliques and never broke rank. The only way to get off with someone else in the bar was through an app, and even then, the chances were slim.

He made it to the door and burst into the street, relieved as it swung shut behind him, deadening the relentless soundtrack. The cold of late October was a relief after the extreme heat of the bar. He inhaled, drawing cool air deep into his lungs. He wouldhave left much earlier if he’d had the chance. When Ashley had realised Roman was coming out tonight, he’d insisted on dragging him along with his awful boyfriend and their cackling friends, no matter how much he’d objected.

At last, he was free to enjoy the kind of night he wanted.

Despite the time—getting on for midnight—the traffic was heavy in both directions. Roman made it to the centre of the road and waited his chance to cross to the other side. There were plenty of people on the streets, though most of them moved around in groups between one venue and another. The gay village of Blyham was no longer considered to be the safe LGBTQ space it used to be, but Roman had no fear of walking around on his own, not when there were so many others about. He stuck to the main streets and knew where to avoid.

The Viaduct was located on the opposite side, down the steeply sloping street, at the intersection of Salvin Road and Broad Street. When he arrived, there were six men waiting to get in, and he joined the line behind them. It was a slow wait. The Viaduct was for members only, and it always caused a delay when a new member tried to sign up at the door.

Roman shivered and hugged himself. The cold air had caused his nipples to harden and peak the front of his pale blue T-shirt. At least that would be good for some attention once he got inside. He cast his eyes over the men in front of him. There were a mixed bunch of ages and sizes. None of them caught his immediate interest.

Roman wasn’t sure what kind of man he was in the mood for tonight, but he would know him when he saw him. There was a time when he would have settled for any guy who paid him attention, regardless of age or body type. As long as they weren’t totally ugly, he used to oblige. Roman had been younger then—and a lot skinnier.

At six feet tall, with a naturally slim build and large nose, he’d spent most of his teens and early twenties feeling awkward and unworthy. That had all changed a couple of years ago. When he was twenty-four, his body unexpectedly filled out, and his face, previously drawn and uninteresting, matured into something more traditionally handsome. Though he had never been an ugly duckling, he suddenly transformed into a hunk. Almost overnight he got attention from the kind of men who wouldn’t have looked at him before.

Roman didn’t have a preference or type. He wasn’t hung up on looks, physique or huge dicks, but he had reached a stage where he could become more discerning about the men he fucked. He could take his pick and no longer had to settle for whatever was on offer. It was a liberating change of circumstance. He didn’t think he was vain, but being considered hot brought a lot of advantages he didn’t have before. It was like a new-found super-power, and he had revelled in it. He still did and wasn’t ready to settle tonight.

He was horny as hell and wanted a man who would satisfy his every primal, base need.

By the time he reached the front of the line, his skin was rippled with gooseflesh, and he stepped into the foyer, grateful for the warmth. He showed his membership card to the attendant on the door and paid the entry fee. Fridays and Saturdays were the most expensive days of the week. Roman had a feeling, though, that tonight would be worth it.

The Viaduct was located in the lower vaulted cellars of Old Elvet Bridge, a railway bridge that ran through the centre of the city. The street-level entrance opened onto a small, low-ceilinged cloakroom and changing area. Throughout the week, the club ran a variety of theme nights, ranging from leather to sportswear and jock straps. Members had the option of going fully naked at any time. Fridays were more relaxed andmainstream. The dress code was topless. The men who arrived before him had stripped down to underwear and sneakers. Two of them wore backless briefs, displaying their wide, juicy arses.

Dispensing with the changing room, Roman pulled his T-shirt over his head and stuffed it into his waistband, bait enough to attract what he was looking for. If not, he would strip down to his underpants later.

The Viaduct had a smell like nowhere else in Blyham. The stone vaults had a permanent odour of damp, combined with the aroma of stale booze, sweat, poppers and aftershave. It was an intense aphrodisiac. He breathed it in, and his cock stiffened with anticipation of what might come. With a quickening pulse, he passed through the dark, beaded curtain to the next room.

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