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Chapter Text

Dirty Dancing

Chapter 1

:::

Cyril drives Lana and AJ to the summer resort in the Catskills from the city. He was looking forward to this vacation; it was free, courtesy of his high-profile client, and hopefully this would be a chance to rekindle his and Lana’s relationship. He wakes them up when they arrive. The place is huge: seemingly endless lodging, a main hall for dining and entertainment, a vast lake and a wilderness that wouldn’t let the resort overshadow it. He pulls up to the driveway, and his client is there to greet him, the wealthy owner of the Archer Resort, Malory Archer. The woman always had a drink in her hand and judged you with every look of her icy blue eyes. With her stands her annoying man-child of a son, Sterling, and Pam Poovey, one of her assistants, who’s kind of an HR person. Another woman was there as well, skinny with red hair and an evil smile.

“Cyril Figgis, my hero.” Malory greets him, giving him a light hug. “Oh, if it wasn’t for you, this resort wouldn’t be here.”

“It was my honor to help, Ms. Archer.” Cyril lies to her face. The whole trial was a nightmare. He didn’t like representing obviously guilty clients, but he did it for the money, and for Lana. “Ms. Archer, this is my…”

“Ex-wife, Lana Kane.” Lana introduces herself, shaking her hand. “And this is my daughter, Abbiejean.”

“You can call me AJ.” AJ says proudly.

“My, what beautiful ladies.” Malory says.

“Yeah, especially the taller one.” Sterling takes a sip from his flask, probably filled with bourbon. Like mother, like son.

“Archer, I see you’re doing well.” Cyril scowls at him.

“And I see you’re still on the lookout for the world’s best candy bar.” Sterling gets him right back.

“I’ve actually lost weight, thank you.” Cyril dusts off his shirt. “And Pam, it’s good to see you.” With her, it actually is.

“Good to see you, four-eyes.” Pam pats him on the shoulder. “We’re happy you came.”

“Phrasing.” Sterling says.

“Cyril, this is Cheryl Tunt.” Malory gestures to the redhead. “She’s a hotel heiress, and she’ll be helping me run things this summer.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Tunt.” Cyril shakes her hand.

“Oh God, call me Cheryl.” She says with a high-pitched voice, letting her hand linger on his. “Everybody does.”

“Not me. I call her Carol.” Sterling says.

“Much to my vexation.” Cheryl says through her teeth. “And this is your EX-wife, yes?”

“Yep, that’s what I said, very clearly.” Lana says.

“And is this child yours?” Cheryl asks Cyril.

“Uh, no, she had AJ before we were… married.” Cyril answers.

“Oh, good. I mean, I see~.” Cheryl sings and smiles at Cyril. He feels his skin crawl. “Well then, let’s get you to your rooms!”

“R-Right.” Cyril hates how awkward this conversation is. They grab their bags and head to the lodge.

:::

Cyril was glad his and the girls’ rooms were next to each other’s. He helps Lana and AJ with their bags and unpacking. “So, this place is nice, right?”

“Yeah, it’s great.” Lana says. “There are so many activities to choose from, right, AJ?”

“Yeah, I want to do them all!” AJ says from the porch.

“You know, what interested me was the couples’ dance classes.” Cyril tries to sound romantic. “Maybe you and I could…”

“Cyril, I’m gonna stop you right there before you embarrass yourself.” Lana puts her hands up. “Listen, I’m grateful that you invited us here, but I came so I could spend the summer with my daughter. I am not here to get back together with you. I don’t… I don’t care for you like that anymore.”

“I… I understand.” Cyril does his best not to start crying.

“We can still hang out sometimes, just not anything like couples’ dancing, alright? We can have breakfast together with AJ. Sound good?”

“… Yes.” Cyril is devastated. All his plans ruined, shot down by one sentence. “I, uh… I’m going to go settle in.”

“Okay.” Lana says as he leaves through the door. He enters his own room, which felt so lonely right now. What was he supposed to do, now? Just skulk around this place by himself? This was a family resort. The summer of 1980, the start of a new decade, and here he is, a middle-aged man riddled with guilt and loneliness in the very resort he helped save from an embezzling, crooked old bachelorette. It was an open-air prison for him. Speaking of open air, we could surely use some.

:::

Cyril walks up to the main hall to look around. It’s really nice inside, with crystal chandeliers and napkins folded like swans at every table. Inside, Malory barks off rules to the waiters. “I want you to make every guest feel welcome, but that doesn’t mean to welcome them to your bungalows! Keep it in your pants, all of you!”

“Y’all hear that, faggots?” Cyril sees a man with a Southern accent enter the room with a group of what looked like ruffians. He’s blonde, handsome and built, wearing all black with rosy aviator sunglasses. His mustache quirks as he smirks. “Y’all don’t wanna be havin’ babies out your pee-holes!”

“That goes double for you, missy!” Malory points a finger at him. “You’re here for the dance lessons with the women! And you better treat them like goddesses!”

“Don’t worry, Ms. Archer…” The blonde man takes off his glasses and hooks them in his shirt. “I’ve been takin’ acting lessons, too.” He takes Malory’s hand and kisses it, followed by a wink. She scoffs and pulls her hand away. He and his crew laugh before walking away. Cyril thought that was an odd exchange, but he was really impressed with how that man stood up to Malory. It looked like he would be the dance teacher. With those looks, he could get any woman he wanted, and he bets that they’d all want him.

:::

The next morning is the opening ceremony. Cyril, Lana and AJ have a big breakfast, and couldn’t finish it all. Then, music starts, and a very old man comes out on stage to direct the band. He’s charming and does a tiny tap routine before encouraging everyone to stand up and dance. Everybody does, except for Cyril and Lana. God, he wants to ask her to dance, but she said… “Hi, Cyril~.” He hears a grating voice behind him, flinching before turning around to smile politely at…

“Cheryl.” He says.

“So, how are you liking everything so far?” She asks.

“It’s great.” Cyril tells a half-truth. “The food was delicious. Right, ladies?”

“Yeah, it was very good. Glad it’s all free.” Lana smiles. “You know, Cheryl, Cyril’s a pretty good cook himself. He makes a mean stir-fry.” Lana is aware of Cheryl’s crush on Cyril, but is clearly unaware of Cyril’s distaste in Cheryl, until he glares at her through his glasses. “Oh…” She says quietly, but it’s too late to stop this train, now.

“Really? I love Chinese food!” Cheryl smiles. “Especially when it’s made by someone who’s not Chinese.”

“Uh-huh.” Cyril sees red flag after red flag with this weird woman. But maybe, if he dances with her, Lana might feel… who knows, something. He stands up, clearing his throat. “Cheryl, would you like to…”

“Yes!” She slams her clipboard on the table and drags Cyril to the dance floor. She grips his hand way too tightly, and her painted nails dig into his shoulder. “I love this song.”

“Me… too.” It’s mambo music with no lyrics. He doubts this is her favorite song. The people in the middle of the dance floor make a hole, and that handsome blonde man from last night comes out with a pretty, platinum blonde partner. They start to dance, moving perfectly to the Latin rhythm, every step, every hand placement, and every look precise. While she was a fantastic dancer, Cyril’s eyes couldn’t help but watch the man. He is enchanting.

“They’re not that big of a deal.” Cheryl says, so Cyril must have said his thought out loud. “And they shouldn’t be dancing with each other too long. They’re showing off! Oh, here comes Ms. Archer. She looks pissed.” Cheryl has this donkey laugh that makes Cyril shudder. He watches as Ms. Archer glares at the dancers. They see her, doing one more lift before stopping and finding a different partner. “See? That’s what they should have been doing in the first place, finding potential students.”

“I don’t know, I was pretty sold.” Cyril says. With the crowd filling in the space, it was hard to watch the man dance any longer. He decides to turn to check on the girls, and finds Lana dancing and laughing with Sterling. What a kick to the stomach that is.

“Crap, I gotta go.” Cheryl lets go of Cyril, and he is so very grateful. “But hey, find you later?”

“Uh, maybe.” He waits for her to get her clipboard before practically bolting in the opposite direction. He’s almost out to the terrace when he bumps into someone. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I… Dr. Krieger?” He recognizes the man he bumped into.

“Cyril!” Krieger shakes his hand with vigor. “How’re you doing, bud? How’s the old ball and chain now that I fixed your balls and chain, eh?”

“Unfortunately, your genius could not fix my marriage.” He sighs. “But, I’m still fully functioning, thanks to you.”

“Aw, it was no problem. And the clinical trial is on Phase 3 at the moment.” Krieger says with an air of creepiness.

“What are you doing here?” Cyril asks. “I didn’t peg you as someone who likes to, well… go on vacate.”

“I’m taking a break from my usual work and doing other experiments: people watching, collecting wild fungus, and hopefully, I’ll run into a few animal carcasses.”

“Jesus.” Cyril shakes his head, but he can’t help but smile. “Just try not to scare anyone or you’ll get kicked out.”

“No promises.” Krieger says.

“Oh, shit.” Cyril sees Cheryl looking around, possibly for him. “Listen, I got to go, but we’ll catch up later, alright? And if that crazy lady asks you where I am, tell her nothing!”

“Yep yep yep!” Krieger says while Cyril runs away again. He decides to head out the back instead of going out on the terrace, thinking it would be less likely for her to find him. He takes a deep breath as he steps out into the morning air.

“Holy shit-snacks!” Cyril hears Pam’s familiar catchphrase. He sees a bridge with a sign that says ‘employees only’, and Pam is in the middle of it, trying to lift a case of beer cans she dropped.

“Pam!” Cyril runs to help her, handing her two cases to hold while he grabs the other two.

“Thanks, man.” Pam says. “You can put those on top of these.”

“No, Pam, let me help you.” Cyril says.

“Didn’t you see the sign? Employees only.” She tells him.

“Oh, come on, please?” Cyril looks back at the building. “I need to get away from Cheryl.”

“Oh.” She nods, understanding. “Alright, but can you keep a secret?”

“Of course I can.” He smiles. “I’m an attorney. The real question is, can you?”

“You know I can’t. This way.” Pam leads them to the employees lounge, which is really just a repurposed barn.

“Why is that crazy lady aggressively flirting with me, anyway?” Cyril asks.

“Other than the fact that you’re the studliest nerd there ever was?” Pam asks back.

“Oh, please, Pam.”

“She’s under pressure from her folks to marry, and she heard from Ms. Archer how great and smart you are, so she’s target-locked on you.”

“Ugh, rich people.” Cyril moans.

“You’re one of those people now, dick-nuts.”

“Please, it’s pennies compared to a hotel heiress.” They make it to the lounge, the music loud as hell inside.

“Hey, before we go in…” Pam stands in front of the double doors. “I gotta warn you.”

“What?”

“Well… it’s very… liberal, in there.”

“What, is everyone naked or something?” Cyril asks.

“No, but there’s a lot of bumping and grinding.”

“I think I can handle it.”

“You ain’t seen nothing like this.” Pam opens the doors with her big ass, the music assaulting Cyril’s ears. Everyone in the barn is dancing, but very sexually. Not only that, but there are couples dancing that are of the same sex, grinding on each other without a care in the world.

Do you love me? (I can really move)
Do you love me? (I'm in the groove)
Now do you love me?
(Do you love me now that I can dance?)
Watch me, now

“Oh.” Cyril has indeed never seen this kind of dancing or such freedom in his life before.

“Yeah, that. Come on.” Pam smirks, cutting right through the middle of the dance floor.

“Really?” Cyril follows her, occasionally bumping into people, or they would rub against him on purpose. Pam tells Cyril where to place the beer, and then they stand and watch everybody. “Where did they learn to do that?”

“On the streets, in the clubs, basement parties, whatever.” Pam smirks. “Why, you wanna try it?” Cyril vigorously shakes his head. “Ha, can you imagine this shit on the main floor? Ms. Archer would have, like, five consecutive strokes, but live through all of them just to murder everybody. But for me, this is paradise. Guys on girls, girls on girls, guys on guys… I love it.”

“Wait, does that mean, you’re…”

“I like guys and girls, Cyril.” Pam says. “That doesn’t bother you, does it?”

“No, no, not at all.” He shakes his head again. “I think it’s great. You have… more options.”

(Work, work) ah, work it out baby
(Work, work) well, I'm gonna drive you crazy
(Work, work) ah, just a little bit of soul, now?
(Work)

“Jeezy Peats.” Cyril says, loosening his tie. He sees the blonde man come through the doors with his partner, and everybody cheers for them. He greets them, taking a swig of someone’s beer and a drag of someone’s cigarette before they all clear the way for him and her to start dancing, but not the mambo. They grind against each other, with her whipping her short hair around and kicking high while he lowers his stance, sliding up her body and dips her apparently boneless back. Everyone hoots and hollers for them; they are the best dancers, after all, but him, he’s… “Who is he?” Cyril asks a little too longingly, and Pam catches it, plus the way he’s looking at him.

“That’s Ray Gillette, and his best friend Trinette McGoon. They’re the dance teachers.” Pam replies. “They call themselves ‘Gillette and Trinette.’”

“He’s the best dancer I’ve ever seen.” Cyril says, watching as Ray grinds little circles into Trinette’s groin before lifting her up so she could kneel on his shoulders and flick her pink dress around his face as he laughs, bringing her back down again. “I mean, the two of them are great together.”

“Yeah, you’d think they were a couple, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, aren’t they?”

“Wow, Cyril, I’m surprised you can’t tell.”

“What?” He asks.

“He’s gay.” Pam tells him. “Gayer than a fairy at a glitter and fruit convention.”

“Wha-… but… oohhh…” Cyril recalls the conversation Ray had with Malory on the first night, which makes sense to him, now. Still, it’s amazing for a gay man to dancing like that with a woman.

Now I can mash potatoes (I can mash potatoes)
I can do the twist (I can do the twist)
Tell me, baby, do you like it like this?
Tell me (tell me) tell me

The song ends and they all cheer for Ray and Trinette. The next song starts right away and they cheer again, getting right back to dancing like crazy. “God, you’d think they’d be tired by now.” Cyril is tired just from watching. Ray was going to start dancing again, until he saw Pam with some stranger standing in the back. Pam waves, but Ray isn’t amused.

“Ah, shit-snacks.”

“What?”

“He’s mad at me.”

“Why?”

“For bringing you here, stupid.” Pam and Cyril watch as Ray makes his way across the dance floor, grinding against women and men before finally bumping hips with Pam. “Hey, Holler King.”

“Hey, Cheese Queen.” Ray nods toward Cyril. “What’s he doin’ here?”

“He helped this delicate lady carry your beer up here, dick-nuts.” Pam answers.

“Delicate lady? Where?” Ray remarks.

“Oh, leave me alone, and him, too, he’s cool.” Pam gestures to Cyril.

“Yes, I’m as… chill as krill… ahem…” Cyril holds out his hand. “Hello, I’m Cyril Figgis.”

“Ray.” Ray shakes his hand, finding the nerd’s nervousness amusing. There’s some awkward silence, so they go back to watching the dancing, with Cyril eyeing two men sliding their hips together. Ray notices this, looking at Pam and asking her a silent question, with which she shrugs. “You like what you see?” He asks Cyril.

“Hm? Wha-… uh…”

“The dancing.” Ray clarifies, smirking.

“Oh! Yes! Yes, I do, it’s very… liberal.” Cyril nods.

“Uh-huh. Well then…” Ray holds his hand out, but not for a handshake. “You wanna learn?”

“Me?!” Cyril’s voice squeaks. “No, no… I have two left feet.”

“As long as you don’t got two left hips.” Ray jokes. Cyril is wondering if he should do this or not, a decision that’s giving him a visible attack. “Look around. This is a safe place.” Ray assures him. Without any more thinking, Cyril takes his hand and he’s led to the middle of the dance floor, glancing back at Pam who gives him a thumbs up.

I'm a love man
Call me the love man
Oh, baby I'm the love man
That's what they call me I'm a love man
Six feet one weigh two hundred and ten
A long hair real fair skin
A long legs and I'm-a out-a sight
There ain't no doubt I'm gonna take you out

“Alright, here’s how it goes.” Ray bends his knees. “Bend your knees, back straight, core engaged. Eyes on me, always. It’s rude to look away. Hands go here…” Ray takes Cyril’s hands and places them on his waist. Cyril gulps loudly. “Legs go together like a jigsaw puzzle.” Their groins are really close. Ray wraps his arms around Cyril’s shoulders. “Now roll those hips, sweetheart.” Cyril tries, but he’s really shy and doesn’t want to touch groins with him. “C’mon, do it like you’re makin’ love. You do know how to make love, right?”

“Yes, of course I do!” Cyril says.

“Well, show me.” Ray grins, doing a slow grind against him. Cyril holds back a moan of shock, but that little dig at his character makes him want to impress Ray and starts moving more fluidly. “That’s better.”

“Th-Thank you.” Cyril is sweating a lot, definitely not wearing the right attire for dancing. Ray’s black shirt is unbuttoned all the way but still tucked in and has high-waist, form-fitting pants to match. And wow, is Ray better-looking up close. His skin is flawless, his eyebrows and mustache perfectly trimmed and he has fiery, light-brown eyes that just burned through to Cyril’s soul. “H-How do you do this without getting… uh… excited?”

“Because…” He rolls his whole torso against Cyril’s. “I am a professional. Now dip me.”

“Oh!” Cyril holds on as Ray just dips himself, leaning forward into it and almost losing balance.

“Whoa, okay.” Ray knew he couldn’t trust this nerd. “Let’s try that again. Keep your back straight and bend your knees lower instead of leanin’ forward.”

“Okay.” Cyril gets ready, holding on to Ray stronger and bending his knees lower as Ray bends backwards, his beautiful long neck exposed.

“Good. Now do it again, but in a circle.” Ray lets Cyril dip him in a circular motion. “Good, that’s good. You’re gettin’ it.” Cyril smiles, always liking praise. They really are moving as one, now, Cyril getting down dirty.

Go on I got you, gonna knock you all night
'Cause baby I'm a love man all right
Oh, baby I'm a love man
Let me tell ya I'm sayin' I'm just a love man, good ol' man
I'm just a love man, fancy man
I'm just a love man, good ol' man
I'm just a hot fire, good ol' man

The song ends and everyone claps for each other. Cyril and Ray part, and Cyril claps and hoots, too, adrenaline rushing through his body. But when he turns around, Ray is nowhere to be seen. He looks confusingly at Pam, who seems just as confused. “Asshole.” Cyril mutters, deciding to head out, himself.

Chapter Text

Dirty Dancing

Chapter 2

:::

“That’s beautiful, AJ. I love the colors.” Cyril says to her as she makes sand art into a plastic vase.

“Thanks! I’m making it for Mommy!” AJ says.

“Aw, sweetie, you’re not supposed to tell me that until you’re done.” Lana hugs her daughter.

“You know, I can make sand art, too.” They hear a familiar drunken voice from behind them. “I can only dye it one color, though.”

“Archer, there are children present!” Cyril whisper-shouts.

“Yeah, aren’t you the comedian?” Lana rolls her eyes.

“Mother says I should do stand-up for a living.” Sterling says.

“Even though you can barely stand up?” Lana asks smartly.

“God, I love women who fight back.” Sterling winks at her, and she smirks despite herself. Cyril notices. “Maybe I’ll see you later, if I’m still standing, that is.” He leaves them. Cyril wants to say something, but it really isn’t his business, anymore. Actually, as Archer walks away down the shore, Cyril sees Trinette teaching some kids how to do a line dance a little ways from the tent he’s under, but stop when Sterling walks by, giving him a look that could make him combust. She snaps out of it long enough to tell the kids the lesson’s over, about to pack her record player. Maybe Cyril has found a kindred spirit in Trinette. He decides to walk over to her.

“Don’t care for Archer much, do you?” Cyril asks. Trinette looks at him funny. “I don’t, either, he’s a total jackass.”

“Look pal, the last thing I need right now is another guy trying to get into my knickers, so…”

“Oh no, I’m not trying to…” Cyril puts his hands up. “I just wanted to tell you that you and Ray are terrific dancers.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re the guy that crashed our little party.” Trinette finally smiles. “The two of you were kickin’ it on the dance floor.”

“Yes, until he just kind of… ditched me.” Cyril mutters.

“Nah, he was just teasing you.” She tells him. “He’s a good guy, really. Too bad he’s playin’ for the other team, cuz I would have married him a decade ago.”

“Is that how long you knew each other?” Cyril asks, and she nods. “You have a Brooklyn accent, but he sounds like he’s from the south.”

“West Virginia.” She clarifies. “He came to New York pretty young, though. And then we met at dance boot camp, and we’ve been each other’s ride or die ever since.”

“Dance boot camp? That sounds hard.”

“It is, actually.” She says. “They teach us the dances, and then they teach us how to teach the dances.”

“Well, the two of you are fantastic. I could watch you all day.” Cyril smiles.

“Well, I ain’t got all day.” Trinette smirks. “I gotta go. Thanks, though. And yeah… Sterling’s a real puke.”

“Ha, see you later.” Cyril watches as she leaves for a moment before going back to the girls.

“Making new friends?” Lana asks.

“Yeah, maybe.” Cyril answers, but then sees this glint in her eyes. “Oh, that kind of friend. Just because I talk to a woman doesn’t mean I want to sleep… uh, be with her like that.” He almost forgot kids were there.

“Sorry. Old habits die hard.” Lana says. “And I’m sorry about trying to hook you up with Cheryl.”

“It’s okay. Just please, don’t be my matchmaker, anymore.”

“I will not, don’t worry.” Lana smirks, accepting the sand-filled vase from AJ.

:::

“Are you enjoying yourself, Cyril?” Malory walks up to him that night as he watches couples dance in the beautifully decorated and lit gazebo. Lana was dancing with Sterling again, but he found himself not caring so much and watching Ray dance with a beautiful middle-aged woman, doing a slow mambo with her while she smiles and flirts with him.

“Uh, yeah, yes, thank you.” Cyril takes a while to process what Malory said.

“You recognize her?” Malory notices Cyril staring. “That’s Veronica Deane, the Broadway actress.”

“Oh, from Shanghai Moon?” Cyril knows the name. “I never got to see that, but I heard the dress she wore left little to the imagination.”

“That’s the one.” Malory nods. “Well, she comes up here every summer. She stays the whole week but her husband, Ellis Crane, only can make it on the weekends. And she takes advantage of those five days to fill her pocketbook with room keys.”

“I see.” Cyril says quietly.

“Malory, darling, haven’t my dance lessons paid off?” Veronica yells over to her. “I could play Evita!”

“You look wonderful, Veronica!” Malory waves and does that fake smile. Cyril sees Ray’s discomfort in the way Veronica plays with his hair. Cheryl then shows up out of nowhere, looking at Ray angrily.

“Ray, where’s Trinette?” Cheryl asks, tapping her foot. “Everybody’s asking for her.”

“I told you, she’s not feelin’ well.” Ray answers. “She just needs a little break.”

“As long as it doesn’t take all night!” Cheryl nearly stomps away until she sees Cyril out of the corner of her eye.

“Oh, God.” Cyril mumbles, starting to feel sick, himself.

“Cyril, I was wondering where you’ve been~.” She wiggles up to him, taking his arm. “How about grabbing a snack with me, huh? The kitchen’s closed for the night, but I got administrative access.”

“Uh…” He looks over at Malory for help, but she’s not even paying attention. Looks like he had no choice, again. “Sure?” It sounds more like a question.

“Great! God, I hope they have oysters.” She leads him up the hill to the main building and into the big, dark kitchen. “Have you ever had oysters, Cyril?”

“No, I haven’t.” He says. “They just seem… kind of… icky.”

“Well, you’re not supposed to taste them. You’re supposed to slide them down your throat.” She runs her finger down his tie, and he actually thinks his junk shriveled up and turned inside out. “And you know, they’re a great aphrodisiac.”

“Uh, well… I don’t think this place would just have oysters in the refrigerator.” He struggles to talk.

“Not with that attitude.” She says, not even making sense. She opens the fridge, looking around inside, and Cyril finally has a break to breathe, turning around and staring into the darkness… he hears a tiny wincing sound and sees movement when his eyes adjust, fixing his glasses to see none other than Trinette hiding behind one of the stoves. She had her mouth covered and she was shaking, terrified to be seen like they were there to kill her or something. But he does bet that if Cheryl saw her, she would get a mouthful for no reason, and probably even fired. Who knows with these people? Okay, he’s got to get Cheryl out, and get her to leave him alone once and for all. Then he gets an idea.

“You know who would probably like oysters?” Cyril puts his arm around Cheryl’s shoulders. “My son.”

“Your… son?” Cheryl makes a disgusted face, closing the fridge, the only light source in the room.

“Yeah! He’s like one year older than AJ.” He starts gently leading her out of the kitchen and back outside. “He’s not Lana’s, he’s from a previous relationship. For a while, Lana and I were like the Brady Bunch, am I right?” He does a phony laugh. “But anyway, he’s in that stage in his life where he is just trying every food, and it is messy! Even things that aren’t food! Oh, the times we’ve had to get his stomach pumped, ha!”

“You know what? I just remembered that I have to go… do something else.” She takes a big step away from him. “Bye.” She walks very quickly in the other direction.

“Oh no, please come back~.” Cyril says sarcastically to himself before remembering why he did that. He goes back to the gazebo, finding Pam and telling her what he saw. Then, Pam goes to tell Ray, interrupting his dance with Veronica. Ray excuses himself, and the three of them walk to the kitchen together.

“Why are you followin’ us?” Ray asks.

“You’re supposed to follow me. I’m the one who found her and knows where she is!” Cyril answers. “What’s wrong with her, anyway? Did she catch a bug?”

“It’s none of your business!” Ray pushes back.

“C’mon, Ray, I told you Cyril’s cool.” Pam sighs. “She’s knocked up, Cyril.”

“What?” He’s shocked, but then he recalls the conversation he had with Trinette this morning. “It was Archer, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Pam shakes her head. “He’s such a dick. Couldn’t be bothered to use a rubber.”

“Jesus, Pam, why don’t you tell the whole damn resort?” Ray cuts in front of both of them as they get to the kitchen. He looks through the darkness and finally finds her. He turns on the light above the stove, finding that Trinette had vomited, probably a couple of times. “Oh, baby girl…” He looks at her with pity, kneeling beside her. She starts crying, messing up her makeup even more than it already was. “No, it’s okay, honey. Ray’s here, everything’s okay.” He gives her a sweet hug before lifting her up gently.

“I’ll clean this up.” Pam says. “Get her a warm cola, it’ll make her feel better.”

“Do you need help?” Cyril asks.

“Please, this is nothing compared to what I had to deal with on the farm.” She scoffs. “Go with them, I’ll catch up. There’s soda at the barn house.”

“Alright.” Cyril follows behind Ray, who really doesn’t need this guy in his business. It’s a long walk to the barn but they get there, Ray putting Trinette on the couch and Cyril cracking open a cola for her. She takes it and thanks him while Pam comes in. “That was quick.”

“I told you it was nothing.” Pam smirks, but frowns quickly after. “They’re doing something about this, right?”

“Yeah, Ms. Archer made an appointment for an abortion.” Trinette says.

“An abortion?” Cyril repeats. “Is… Is that what you want?”

“Like I can afford a kid.” Trinette clicks her tongue. “Problem is, it’s scheduled on the night when Ray and I go perform at Trexler’s resort for his Culture Fest.”

“Yeah, isn’t that convenient?” Ray says. “The old hag did it on purpose since Trexler is her rival.”

“I see.” Cyril fixes his glasses. “Well, I know it’s a shame you can’t go, but is it that big of a deal?”

“It’s a huge paycheck for us.” Ray tells him. “You of all people should know that we are severely underpaid by Ms. Archer. Most of our revenue earned here is tips from clients. We do this Culture Fest every year, and it keeps our lights on for a good long while.”

“Right.” Cyril frowns, definitely knowing that as a fact. “Can’t somebody fill in?”

“No, everybody’s workin’. We’re not on a free vacation like you.” Ray says smartly.

“Look, what is your problem with me?” Cyril furrows his brows. “I’m just trying to help!”

“We didn’t ask for your help, Mr. Fix-It!” Ray stands up. “You don’t know anything about our business! You don’t know shit about our problems!”

“Maybe not, but I can empathize with being screwed by Malory and Sterling Archer.”

“Oh yeah, how they screwed you into a huge payout when you won them the case, or when they gave you a free vacation, or how they’re settin’ you up with a goddamn hotel heiress?!”

“Well, it seems we don’t know shit about EACH OTHER’S business!” Cyril shouts. “And since we’re being so honest with each other, let me tell you my business. My wife divorces me for seemingly no reason, leaving me broken. Then, Malory Archer comes waltzing into my office with my first white-collar case. I look into it, and she’s clearly embezzling from her own company, but you know how these people work: if you don’t get them off, they’ll destroy you. So, I move some numbers around for her, and I think to myself, maybe this will at least impress my ex-wife, but she doesn’t care at all that I win the case! And then, Ms. Archer invites me to spend my summer at the very place I rescued, and I think oh, maybe my ex-wife will come with me and we can rekindle our love, but she shoots me down on day one! And this ‘young and beautiful’ heiress is a fucking crazy person who should be in an asylum; Jesus, I’ve never been more turned off by a woman in my life! So yeah, I’m stuck here, only being a damn ride home for my ex while she gets to have the time of her life with none other than Sterling Motherfucking Archer, and pretending to be nice to the old woman who filled me with guilt and shame!” Cyril finally stops, breathing heavy and gazing around the room at shocked expressions.

“Damn.” Was all Ray could say. “Welcome to the club, I guess.”

“Thank you.” Cyril sighs, loosening his tie and crossing his arms. They were silent for a while until Pam broke it.

“I got an idea.” Pam grins almost evilly. “What if Cyril fills in for Trinette?”

“What?!” The other three all say in unison.

“What, he can move.” Pam bumps hips with Cyril. “You got some sexy hips there.”

“Pam, you’re forgetting that he’s a man.” Ray points out. “Men can dance together in here, but out in the wild…”

“Actually… she might be onto somethin’.” Trinette tells him. “You two could do an Argentine tango together. Back in the day, it was performed by mostly two men, remember?”

“Hey, and that sounds like something cultural for a Culture Fest, huh?” Pam grins again.

“God, this is the stupidest idea I ever heard.” Ray runs his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, I can’t move like that, I can’t even do the merengue.” Cyril agrees.

“Ray, you’re the best teacher, you can teach anybody!” Trinette says.

“No, you heard him, he can’t do it!” Ray sneers. “This is worthless.” The word ‘worthless’ triggers Cyril, remembering how his father called him that, and then the urge to prove him wrong… he raises his shoulders, balls his fists, and steps up to Ray with uncharacteristic determination and says:

“You know what?”

:::

“Ow! Fuck!”

“I’m sorry!” Cyril says after kicking Ray in the shin for the umpteenth time. “Are you sure I should be leading?”

“Leading is easier.” Ray tells him, shaking it off. “You wanna do all the tricks and kicks?”

“Alright.” Cyril really let his ego get the better of him on this one, but he does want to help them. He gets in hold again.

“And because you’re leadin’, you have to have strong arms, no spaghetti arms!” Ray takes one of his arms. “Right under my armpit. I wanna feel your thumb diggin’ into my back.”

“Got it.” Cyril takes a big, deep breath. This was going to be a long couple of weeks.

:::

“You have to match what your feet are doin’ to the music.” Ray says.

“It would be easier if the music had lyrics.” Cyril argues.

“Listen, you’re a numbers guy, right?” Ray asks.

“Numbers and music are different things.”

“How ‘bout pretend they’re not.” Ray insists. “One, two, three, four.” He counts along with the track. “I know you have rhythm. I saw it when we danced the first time.”

“Yeah, you want to talk about that?” Cyril quirks an eyebrow. “About how you ditched me?”

“Jesus, it’s not like I left you at the altar.” Ray smirks.

“Why did you do it?”

“Ugh, fine, since we’re bein’ so honest with each other…” Ray sighs. “I wanted to have a little fun, and mildly humiliate a rich guy. Sue me.”

“I… will not.” Cyril can’t help but smile. “Thanks for being honest.”

“Yeah.” Ray claps his hands. “Back to work.”

:::

Ray figures out some choreography while Cyril stretches. His legs were killing him; he didn’t understand how Ray could do this all day long. Ray is stunning to watch, even though he’s just playing around with different techniques. “You’re so… manly.” Cyril tells him, and he stops to look at him, confused. “The way you dance… you know, a lot of men think dancing is lame and only for girls, but you, the way you hold yourself… and with your sexual preference, it’s…” He realizes Ray is looking at him funny. “And I just realized that what I’m saying might… not be a compliment…”

“No, no, keep going.” Ray teases him. “I think you’re onto somethin’.”

“No, I just…” Cyril shakes his head.

“It’s fine. Thanks.” Ray says.

“I haven’t been around a lot of… queer people.” Cyril says. “At least not knowingly.”

“Oh, you better watch out, we’re comin’ outta the sewers to get you.” Ray jokes.

“I don’t mind it, really.” Cyril shrugs. “It doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“You are a rare person for thinking that, Cyril.” Ray says. “We made a lot of progress this past decade, but we still got a long way to go.”

“If there’s anything I can do…”

“You’re doin’ it.” Ray assures him. “What we’re doin’ here is a big risk. At best, we don’t get paid. At worst… we could get hurt.”

“God, over a dance?” Cyril doesn’t understand the hatred. He can’t; he doesn’t feel it. “Well, I like the logic Trinette and Pam have. It’s a Culture Fest, so I’m assuming there will be lots of arts shown from different parts of the world, different history, and men doing this dance together is part of history. It cannot be ignored.”

“We hope so.” Ray says. “In my experience, rich people love to attach themselves to the latest oppressed people. Starving kids? Fundraiser. Black people? Offering them seats at their tables. And the latest is the queers, and they just love to be seen with a fag. They don’t actually care, though, it’s just for publicity.”

“Agreed.” Cyril scoffs, his experience similar. He stands up, stretched and ready to work. “Tell me more about men doing the Argentine tango with each other.”

“Well, about 100 years ago, the tango was popular in the streets of Buenos Aires, and it just evolved into something a little more raw. Men practiced it with each other so that they could teach their ladies how to do it. But I bet that some of them just liked to dance with each other.”

“I would also put money on that.” Cyril smiles, thinking about how much he likes dancing with him.

“Which brings me to my next point.” Ray shakes out his arms. “You’re gettin’ the steps, but now you have to get the feeling. This is what I do to get in the mood.” He puts the needle on the record, the slow tango staring to play. “Right now, we’re in a shitty barn that still smells like cow piss.” Cyril laughs at that. “But I want you to close your eyes and imagine you’re in a cantina in Buenos Aires.”

“Mmm, muy oscura e ilícita.” Cyril smirks closing his eyes.

“Okay, Mr. Spanish.” Ray says.

“I’m fluent; I have a lot of Spanish-speaking clients.” Cyril explains.

“I’m jealous.” Ray says. “Anyway, you’re in the bar. It’s nighttime, it’s hot, it’s humid. Smells like cigars. The tango music is playing from the stage by a little band. The men are dancin’ with each other, some are learnin’ steps, but some are well-learned and out-machismo-ing the other, like peacocks. And some, as previously stated, are dancing because they like to.”

“And… which kind of pair are we?” Cyril opens one eye.

“Between the first and second.” Ray answers. “A tango is like a little duel. You gotta act tough and macho.”

“So, the opposite of what I usually am.”

“I didn’t say that.” Ray says. “You get those thoughts outta your head.”

“Right, alright.” Cyril takes a breath. “By the way, I do like dancing with you.”

“!” Ray is rendered speechless by such a bold, yet seemingly innocent statement. “I, uh… I like dancin’ with you, too.” He takes a beat. “Even if my shins are covered in bruises.” Cyril giggles, and then they get to practicing.

:::

“Two, three, four…” Ray counts out loud as they dance. “Good. Okay, now I’m gonna lift my leg up straight, and you hold my leg and bend toward it. Remember to keep your back straight.”

“Alright.” Cyril gets ready, thinking Ray would face him to do this move, but Ray faces out, holding Cyril’s neck for balance and really showing his flexibility. “Oh.” Cyril’s very impressed, inevitably forgetting to bend his knee.

“Bend lower, Cyril.” Ray instructs him, and he does it a little too quickly.

RRRIIIIIPP

They look at each other, wondering what that noise was. “Jeezy Peats!” Cyril realizes it’s his pants, starting to feel a draft. Ray blows a raspberry in Cyril’s face before getting off and laughing way too hard. “Oh, crap.” Cyril goes to the mirror, turns around and sees that his dress pants ripped right at the seam, exposing his tightie-whities.

“Holy shit!” Ray wipes tears from his eyes. “Literally!”

“Who are you, Archer?” Cyril isn’t really that mad, cracking a smirk.

“Don’t you have sweat or exercise pants?”

“No, I didn’t pack any.” Cyril whines. Ray struggles to breathe from laughing so hard. “Come on, I can’t leave like this!”

“Okay… yeah…” Ray finally gets a hold of himself. “Ah, thanks for that. I really needed that.”

“Well, you know me… always happy to help people.” Cyril says.

“This is the perfect time to get you into costume.” Ray says. “Follow me. Waddle this way.” One last crack at him before leading him to the giant closet full of costumes. Ray asks Cyril his sizes and finds him flexible, black dance pants, a white dance shirt that buttoned in the crotch (Cyril had never seen a shirt like that before), a pair of suspenders, and a black bow tie.

“How can I tie this around my neck if the shirt isn’t closed?”

“Just place it around your neck.” Ray points to the partition. “You can try ‘em on, there.” Cyril goes to change clothes, occasionally making little noises of frustration while Ray picks out a black shirt for himself.

“I was actually thinking of keeping my glasses off for the performance. I don’t want them to fly off.” Cyril says.

“Will you be able to see okay?”

“Yeah, I think so…” Cyril steps out from the partition. “Well, what do you think?” Ray turns to look, and is rendered speechless again. High-waist dance pants are flattering on everybody, but wow… and seeing Cyril’s puppy-dog eyes so clearly… wow.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Ray jokes to snap himself out of staring at Cyril.

“Heh, two.” Cyril smiles.

“You look great, but something’s missin’…” Ray scans him from head to toe. He comes closer and Cyril hopes he’s not blushing. Ray pushes back Cyril’s hair with his hand. “Can you slick your hair back?”

“Oh, sure.” Cyril says, and Ray fixes his hair. They’ve been in such close quarters these past weeks, and yet this feels so intimate.

“There.” Ray twirls his finger in that Superman curl. “Don’t get that costume dirty; it’ll come out of my paycheck. I’ll give you a bag for it and we’ll change there, alright?”

“Okay.” Cyril says.

“And listen, Cyril…” Ray sighs. “Thanks… for doin’ this for us.”

“You’re welcome, Ray.” Cyril puts a hand on his shoulder. “And thank you for being patient with me.”

“Boy, is that what you think patient is?” Ray snickers, and so does Cyril. “Let’s practice a few more times and then show Trinette.”

:::

“Woo-hoo! That was amazing, guys!” Pam and Trinette clap after Ray and Cyril do their dance. Pam had taken a six-pack out of the fridge and handed them a cold one.

“Nah, I’m already sick enough.” Trinette refuses the drink. “But yeah, fellas, that was very good.”

“You really think so?” Cyril is relieved, cracking open the beer can and taking a big swig.

“My fear is that Trexler won’t let us perform.” Ray drinks, too.

“He will. The man’s pretty open-minded.” Pam says, already finished her first beer.

“How do you know that?” Cyril asks.

“He has a lot of Asians and black people working for him.” Pam answers.

“Race is not the same as sexuality, honey.” Ray says. “But from the times I met him, he seems nice. Every time we go there, he tries to hire us.”

“Maybe if he asks this time, you should take him up on his offer.” Cyril mutters. “Just because I saved Ms. Archer from losing her business this time doesn’t mean she’s learned her lesson.”

“Ugh, she’s a bitch, but at least she kept me on after findin’ out my secret.” Ray shakes his head. “I try to hide it, but it’s just too obvious. I can’t risk that with another potential employer.”

“That’s so unfair.” Cyril says. “Affirmative Action should include people of different sexual orientation.”

“I think you should run for president.” Ray smirks.

“Cyril Figgis for president!” Pam makes a toast, and they clink cans.

“Ha, could you imagine?” Cyril snickers. “Who would be my running mate?”

“Me, obviously!” Pam says. “I could take care of all the human resource shit!”

“That’s not… what a vice-president does…” Cyril cocks an eyebrow.

“Pam, are you drunk?” Ray asks her. “You only had one beer.”

“Ms. Archer made me confiscate Archer’s flask, again.” Pam smiles wickedly, pulling the flask out from her cleavage. “This shit’s got absinthe in it!”

“Jesus, Pam!” Cyril shouts.

“Yeah, Pam, did you save any for us?” Ray smirks.

“Ray!” Cyril’s shocked.

“What, we got 48 hours until the performance.” Ray holds out his beer. “C’mon, sister, gimme some!”

“Alright, alright.” Pam pours some absinthe in Ray’s can. “You want some, Cyril?”

“Ugh, fine, just a tablespoon.” Cyril holds out his can.

“Oh, my Irish ass misses drinking.” Trinette says. “I’ll get a cola and pretend it’s whiskey.” Before long, Pam and Ray were drunk as skunks, dancing together and singing to each other. Cyril decides to ask Trinette for a little dance, watching the other two lose their minds. “Thanks for this, Cyril.” Trinette smiles at him. “You sure you don’t want a cut?”

“I’m extremely sure.” He assures her. “I’m just happily filling in for you.”

“You’re a sweetheart.” She says.

“How have you been?” He asks.

“Ugh, you know they call it mornin’ sickness, but with me it’s just whenever sickness.” She explains, with Cyril looking worried. “Don’t worry, I won’t yack on you.”

“Thanks, but that’s not really what’s worrying me.” He says. “Pregnancy is scary, but the procedure to end it…”

“I am fucking terrified.” She exhales. “I don’t know anything about it; hell, I haven’t seen a doctor in years!”

“I don’t know much about it, either.” He says. “But you’re going to be okay. You’re tough as hell.”

“Thanks.” She smiles.

“Ow, shit, Pam!” They turn their attention back to the drunks. Pam is thrusting herself against Ray, bouncing him around like a rag doll. “Ah-ow, my dick!” He collapses on the floor laughing.

“You can’t handle the Pampage!” Pam does one more thrust to the air.

“Oh no, Ray’s down!” Cyril jokes, but that just gets Pam’s attention as she turns to him, looking like an animal in heat.

“Well, now you did it, Cyril.” Trinette steps away from him, letting Pam zero in on her prey, thrusting over to him.

“Wait, Pam, I… I can’t handle this, either!” He puts his hands up, but she’s still coming.

“Get ‘im, Pam, come on!” Ray provokes her.

“No, Pam, no!” Cyril can do nothing as Pam wraps her arms around him and practically lifts him from the ground to bump and grind against him. Ray and Trinette laugh as Cyril also ends up on the ground, and he couldn’t help but laugh, too. Then Pam starts gyrating over him, and he sees up her skirt to her bloomers. “Oh shit, my eyes!” He shuts them, taking off his glasses and covering them for extra blockage.

“God, the void!” Ray is dying on the floor laughing.

“Carl Sagan, save me!” Cyril prays.

“You’re all insane.” Trinette laughs.

“Oh, you think I’m not comin’ for you, sister?” Pam makes her way over to Trinette. “I’ll put another baby in you.”

“Yeah, girl on girl!” Ray shouts.

“Oh my God, just be gentle with me.” Trinette meets Pam halfway, and they gently grind together while Ray and Cyril hoot.

“Jesus-what-is-the-H-for-Christ, Pamela Poovey, how are you single?” Ray asks.

“Clearly because no one can handle the Pampage!” Pam answers.

“Well, whoever could handle it would be the luckiest man or woman alive.” Cyril smiles, glad to have this moment with the three of them. This summer wasn’t a waste, after all. He made some friends, and he’s learning to dance with… he finds himself staring at Ray again, loving to hear him laugh, loving to see him smile. He wants to make him proud. He wants to see him smile like that for him.

Chapter Text

Dirty Dancing

Chapter 3

:::

“You got everything? We got our costumes, the record, wallets, a tire iron…” Ray checks in with Cyril, who’s sitting in the passenger seat of Ray’s car.

“A tire iron?” Cyril repeats. “For what?”

“For tires, duh… and in case we run into a homophobe.” Ray shifts the car to drive.

“Y-Yeah, ready.” Cyril answers, and they begin to drive off. It was strange; he didn’t feel nervous until now. He didn’t really think at all about how this performance might go, and suddenly all the ways in which it could all go horribly wrong. His palms started sweating and he started breathing heavy.

“Cyril?” Ray hears the breathing. “How’re you doin’ over there, buddy?”

“Uh, f-fine…” He lies poorly.

“You’re clearly not~.” Ray sings. “C’mon, talk to me.”

“Uh, well…” Cyril swallows to moisten his throat. “I just remembered the last time I was on stage.”

“Yeah?” Ray prods him. “When was that?”

“I was… 8.” He says. “It was the regional spelling bee, and my father was there, and I really wanted to make him proud, but…”

“But what?”

“I… I peed my pants spelling ‘onomatopoeia’.”

“Oh shit, Cyril.” Ray says pitifully.

“And ever since then, my father’s been disappointed in me. He never once told me he was proud of me, not even the day he died!”

“Jesus, because of a spelling bee?” Ray says. “It’s not like you murdered someone, for Christ’s sake.”

“Oh God…” Cyril takes deeper breaths, making fists. “I don’t do well in high-pressure situations! What if I screw up? What if I-?!”

“Cyril, buddy, calm down, okay?” Ray tries to tell him. “Let’s… Let’s think about the positives, like the fact that your dad isn’t here to judge you.”

“Okay… yeah, that’s good…” Cyril agrees.

“And no one is going to judge you, actually, because this is not a competition.” Ray keeps going. “There are no trophies or ribbons or scores or nothin’. This is just a showcase.”

“Okay… okay…” His fists loosen.

“What else… you’ve been doing a great job with practice. You’ve been workin’ hard, and it’s showing. So if anything, I’m proud of you.”

“Aw, Ray…” Cyril says. “Thank you, that means so much.”

“I mean it.” Ray says. “And if we mess up, most likely, those people won’t notice. They don’t have a trained eye for that. Those rich-ass people will be drunk and very easily entertained and ignorant.”

“Huh, I never thought of that.” Cyril says.

“And, you’ll have your glasses off, right? So you won’t be able to see their stupid faces.”

“Stupid, drunk, ignorant faces.”

“There you go. What else, what else…” Ray thinks for a moment. “You know what? We are hot and sexy middle-aged men and we are going to show them that!”

“Yeah! We’re sexy!” Cyril gets pumped. “Oh, thanks, Ray. I feel much better.”

“No problem.” Ray looks at him. “When we’re out there, you just stay focused on me, alright? I’ll be feeding you instructions.”

“Okay.” Cyril is unclenched.

:::

They arrive at Trexler’s resort, and they’re greeted by Barry, Trexler’s second-in-command. “Hey, Ray, long time no see.” Barry shakes Ray’s hand.

“Barry.” Ray simply says.

“Where’s Trinette?” Barry asks, kind of ignoring Cyril.

“She’s sick. This is her stand-in.” Ray gestures to his partner.

“How do you do? I’m Cyril.” He shakes Barry’s hand.

“Whoa, hold up, you two? Two fellows?” Barry points at both of them. “What are you going to do, dance the mambo with invisible ladies?”

“We are doing a historical Argentine tango.” Ray says with as much confidence as he can possibly muster, handing Barry an index card. “There’s your history lesson.”

“Huh…” Barry reads it real quick. “Well, what do you know?”

“Hopefully it’s not a problem.” Cyril says.

“Nah, I’m cool with it.” Barry shrugs. “Can’t speak for the guests, though.”

“We’ll just dance and leave.” Ray says. “Well, dance, get paycheck, leave.”

“Alright, buds.” Barry gives the card back to Ray. “Give that to the boss-man before you go on, and I’ll make sure he’s cool with it, too. You know where the dressing room is, right?”

“Yep. Thanks, Barry.” Ray nods and gestures for Cyril to follow him. They find the men’s dressing room and start getting ready. “Okay, hurdle one: passed.” He lets out a big breath.

“Yeah. Let’s hope Trexler’s ‘cool with it’.” Cyril looks in the mirror at his slicked-back hair, hoping it was still holding. “I look like a completely different person with this hairdo.”

“It looks good.” Ray takes off his clothes. “Though I am growing partial to the Superman curl.”

“Pfft, I don’t look anything like Superman.”

“Yes you fuckin’ do.” Ray argues. “You’re a regular Clark Kent. Maybe not Christopher Reeve, but definitely George Reeves. Also kinda Marlon Brando-y.”

“Wow, Ray, all these compliments might go to my head.” Cyril blushes. “But what about you? You look like if Errol Flynn and Basil Rathbone had a baby.”

“Aw, that is so sweet… and right.” Ray checks his reflection, admiring himself.

“Not humble, are we?” Cyril jokes.

“I told you, we’re hot and sexy guys.” Ray’s finished getting dressed. Cyril hooks his suspenders and throws the tie around his neck. “Now, let’s shake what our mamas gave us.”

:::

Len Trexler was informed of the men dancing together, a little nervous about it, but let them go on, putting their record on and reading the brief history lesson of the Argentine tango. Ray and Cyril start facing each other. “Just focus on me.” Ray whispers and Cyril nods. The music starts and the lights come on. The dance begins. Step, two, three, now they’re in hold. Toes point in the same direction. Ray switches his hips. Step, point, keep back straight, head forward, hold strong, and some Marlon Brando swagger. Cyril puts his leg between Ray’s, and Ray kicks high, spin… oops, Cyril forgot Ray needs to put his leg down first. “It’s okay, keep going.” Ray insists, recovering seamlessly. Cyril does what he says, spinning like it didn’t happen. Now, the repetitive steps: switch hips, slide, sweep the foot, repeat… uh, what’s next? “Kick between the legs.” Ray whispers to him, as if knowing what he was thinking. Cyril parts his legs and Ray kicks in between them, followed by a kick-back with one leg following the other. The audience claps at that, but Cyril doesn’t hear it, just focusing on his partner like he was told. Now, it’s a series of fancy footwork by Ray where Cyril simply leads him across the floor. More audience clapping. A few more swift hip movements, almost done; two minutes seemed like forever on the stage. Now for the final trick: Ray kicks really high and Cyril holds it and drags him across the floor, followed by an assisted spin and the final pose where they just lean together looking totally straight and not gay at all. The lights go out to wait for the audience to clap, and they do, thankfully not throwing tomatoes at them. Lights come back on, and they bow twice before leaving the stage.

“Fellas!” They’re stopped by Len Trexler. “That was quite the show. Did not know men danced together like that. Gotta brush up on my history.”

“Thank you, sir.” Ray says breathlessly, wiping sweat from his brow.

“You’re still a star, Mr. Gillette. You know, there’s always a place for you, here.” Trexler tries to convince him to stay.

“Maybe next time, sir.” Ray half-smiles. “I’m booked through this summer.”

“Ah, one of these days, I’ll getcha.” Trexler jokes. “Hand them the check, Barry, please.”

“Here you go, fellas.” Barry hands Ray his record and an envelope. Paid in full.

“Thank you so much sir.” Ray shakes their hands. “I look forward to seein’ you next year.”

“Likewise, kid, likewise.” Trexler says, shaking Cyril’s hand, too. “And I hope Trinette gets better soon. Maybe it could be the three of you next year, eh?” He laughs and sends them on their way. They head back to the dressing room, giving each other a smirk before giggling and hugging.

“Oh my God, we did it!” Ray squeals in Cyril’s ear.

“Yes, we did!” Cyril says. “I did mess up a little, though.”

“Hey, positives, remember?” Ray holds his shoulders. “We didn’t fall, and you didn’t pee your pants. I’d call that a win.”

“Yeah, yes! We did it.” Cyril is excited. “I didn’t say anything to Mr. Trexler, I just kind of blacked out for a minute, there. Is it just me or is he hard to read?”

“You’re right, he is.” Ray says. “But so is Ms. Archer. It took me years to figure her ass out.”

“You handled her pretty well in the main hall when you first showed up.” Cyril says, starting to take off his clothes.

“What?” Ray asks.

“Oh, I forgot… no one knew I was there.” Cyril blushes again.

“You’re walkin’ around spyin’ on us?” Ray smirks. “You dang creep.”

“I was just walking by, I swear.” Cyril whines.

“I’m joking, dumbass.” Ray takes off his outfit. “But you saw that, huh? When I kissed her hand?”

“Yeah, you actually made her flounder.” Cyril snickers. “You’re… so cool.”

“Heh, thanks.” Ray smirks. “Let’s get out of here.”

:::

“And, mission complete! We did the dance, I got paid in full, and no hate crimes!” Ray drums his hands on the steering wheel. “Our shitty dads are probably rollin’ in their graves.”

“Yours, too, huh?” Cyril frowns. “Was it because of who you are?”

“Yeah. My parents knew who I was before I did. My mama accepted it, but my dad…” Ray shakes his head. “He made me kill a fuckin’ bear, Cyril.”

“What?!” Cyril couldn’t believe it.

“I was ten. Bear was eating our chickens. My dad made me come with him instead of my brother. I thought he was goin’ to kill it, but then he handed the shotgun to me. Kinda had no choice, since the bear was comin’ for me after hearing me cry like a banshee. I kept crying, and my dad was sayin’, ‘Don’t cry, men don’t cry, you little faggot’. Then, he cut open the bear’s chest and pulled out its heart, and put it up to my face and made me take a bite of it.”

“What the fuck?!” Cyril swears. “I have never heard a more horrible story in my life. My dad could never compare!”

“It’s not a competition, Cyril.” Ray gives a sad smile. “But… yeah. I stopped cryin’, and really hadn’t cried since.”

“I’m so sorry, Ray.” Cyril says. “No wonder you were so scared of this dance, about what those people would think. I… I can’t imagine.”

“Thanks. You are ridiculously empathetic.” Ray smirks. “My mama was great, though. Yours?”

“Oh yeah, mine was, too.” Cyril smiles. “We’re a pair of mama’s boys with daddy issues.”

“Yeah, but at least we’re better off than Archer.”

“Jeezy Peats, right?” They laugh as they head back to their resort.

:::

They arrive at the resort, and Pam is there to meet them, but she looks terrified. “Guys, it’s Trinette! Come quickly!”

“What? What’s wrong?!” Ray asks as they follow her.

“The piece of shit doctor left her writhing.” Pam explains. “I wanted to call 911 but she wouldn’t let me!”

“Why?” Cyril asks.

“Hospitals aren’t cheap.” Ray says. “And no doubt Ms. Archer wouldn’t pay for it.”

“I heard her screaming and thought it was just part of the process!” Pam cries. “I’m sorry, Ray.”

“Hey, this wasn’t your fault. It’s that bitch for not hirin’ a real doctor!” Ray runs into Trinette’s bungalow where she’s crying, sweating, and writhing in pain. There were bloody towels in between her legs. “Motherfucker!” Ray runs to her side, not really knowing what to do. He finds his handkerchief and wipes her forehead. “Hey, baby girl. It’s Ray, Ray’s here.”

“Oh, my God!” Cyril is shocked. “Did the ‘doctor’ give her any antibiotics or anything?!”

“He said, ‘that’s not part of my job’.” Pam says. “He ran away before I could nab him!”

“Jesus… wait…” Cyril remembers that his friend, Dr. Krieger, is here, too. “I’m going to get help! Be right back!”

“Wait, get help from who?” Ray shouts.

“A real doctor!” Cyril heads out and starts running toward the guest rooms.

“Cyril, wait!” Ray calls to him, but he’s already gone. “God damn it…” He turns his attention back to his best friend, who could very well be dying in his arms. “God, baby girl, please don’t leave me. I just got done sayin’ I haven’t cried since I was ten, please don’t be the one to break that streak…!”

:::

“Krieger!” Cyril knocks on Krieger’s door. “Krieger, it’s me, Cyril! It’s an emergency!”

“Cyril!” Krieger opens the door wearing his underwear and lab coat. Cyril didn’t have time to process that. “What’s wrong, buddy?”

“Krieger, one of the dancers, she…” He quiets his voice. “She got a botched abortion. The one who did it just left without giving her any treatment!”

“For the love of God!” Krieger says. “Where is she? I’ll fix her right up!”

“I’ll show you, just grab your valise, and your… pants.” Cyril orders him.

:::

“Excuse me, please. Make way.” Krieger pushes past bystanders and enters Trinette’s bungalow. “Ah, Ms. Poovey, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Dr. Krieger?” Pam is surprised to see him. Cyril comes in next, holding a stitch. “How do you know Krieger, Cyril?”

“He helped me with a… personal issue.” Cyril says breathlessly.

“Oh dear, what a mess.” Krieger clicks his tongue at the horrible work the ‘doctor’ before him did.

“Can you help, please?” Ray asks.

“Yep yep yep! No problem.” Krieger puts on some gloves. “I have to ask you and Cyril to leave, please, but Ms. Poovey, if you could assist me?”

“I would love to. Come on, boys, we got this.” Pam leads Cyril and a reluctant Ray outside before shutting the door in their faces.

“Fuck.” Ray exhales, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it up.

“Don’t worry, Krieger’s a little kooky, but he knows what he’s doing.” Cyril assures him.

“He better, or Malory won’t be the only one I’m killin’, tonight.” Ray blows out the smoke through his teeth.

“Whoa, calm down.” Cyril whispers.

“That cunt.” Ray fumes. “I bet she paid one whole dollar for that butcher! Isn’t Trinette at least worth a Goddamn proper abortion?!”

“Calm down, Ray.” He puts a hand on his shoulder. “I completely understand your anger, but you know very well that you can’t go against Ms. Archer. Not like that.” Ray just growls, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

“So…” Ray breathes out the smoke. “That creepy-lookin’ doc helped you with a… personal issue?”

“Yes, very personal.” Cyril furrows his brows. “But I’ll tell you this, he works miracles.”

“If you say so.” Ray sighs. After a few more long minutes, Krieger comes out with his valise. Ray puts out the cig, looking nervous.

“She’ll be fine.” Krieger says before they can ask. “I know it looked bad with the blood, but that technically wasn’t hers, it was the fetus’s. The doc did the procedure, but didn’t give her any pain meds or antibiotics. So unprofessional. I gave her the good stuff, even a sleeping pill.”

“Jeez, how many drugs do you have in there?” Cyril asks.

“All of them.” Krieger says matter-of-factly. “I’ll come back tomorrow to check on her.”

“God, Doctor, thank you, but…” Ray says.

“No need to pay. I’m on vacation!” Krieger assures him.

“Thanks, doc, you’re a lifesaver.” Pam says from behind him, smiling.

“Thanks, again.” Ray shakes his hand.

“Thanks for coming, Krieger.” Cyril also shakes his hand. “I owe you.”

“Just let me kick your ass in chess again.” Krieger gives him some finger guns before leaving. Ray goes inside to check on Trinette, who’s about to doze off, but at least she stopped writhing in pain and sweating.

“Oh, thank God.” Cyril breathes deeply.

“Totally.” Pam says.

“Listen, Ray is reasonably pissed at Ms. Archer for this.” Cyril whispers.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m gonna give her a piece of my mind, tomorrow.” Pam says. “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry. You just take care of Ray.”

“M-Me?” Cyril blushes.

“Yeah, you, dick-nuts.” Pam smirks. “I’ve never seen him get so close to someone other than Trinette.”

“Really?” Cyril gazes at Ray, feeling this warmth in his stomach. It’s been a while since he felt that… actually, did he even feel that for Lana? Lana made him feel… anxious, like he was walking on eggshells all the time. But, being with Ray, it felt… easy, soothing, calm. Not at first, obviously, but now… Ray kisses Trinette goodnight and they all leave the bungalow. Ray lets out a shaky breath and leans weakly on the hand rail. “Hey, let’s get you to your room. Where is it?”

“Across the way.” Ray points to it.

“Get some rest, Ray.” Pam pats him on the shoulder. “I’ll handle Ms. Archer.”

“Okay. Thanks, honey.” Ray says. Pam heads for the main building while Cyril takes Ray to his bungalow. “Come on in. Want a beer?”

“Sure. Oh…” Cyril follows Ray in and admires the Asian decor. “So cool! Are they Chinese, Japanese…?”

“Japanese.” Ray hands Cyril a beer. “I love Japan.”

“Oh, it’s like a treehouse. Way more fun than my boring, ugly-ass room.” Cyril pokes one of many Japanese lanterns hanging from the ceiling.

“You’re weird.” Ray picks a record and puts it in the player, needing to calm his thoughts. “You’d rather sleep in this log cabin than an air-conditioned room with a bath, a mini-bar, and a patio?”

“Yes.” Cyril puts his foot down. “And if that makes me weird, so be it.” Ray just snorts as he sits down, drinking a big gulp of beer, and Cyril sits next to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Shitty.” Ray frowns. “Just… useless.”

“What? Why?”

“Because all I can do is sit there and pray while my best friend is hurt! I just froze up! I’m not a doctor, or a lawyer, or anything! I’m… I’m nothin’.”

“Don’t say that, Ray!” Cyril leans forward, trying to look Ray as squarely in the face as possible when he says: “You’re everything!”

“And you… I’ve never met anyone like you.” Ray looks at him. “You just so willingly help us with nothin’ to gain from it. You’re willing to dance with a man totally unafraid of anyone seeing. The big picture doesn’t scare you at all!”

“Hey, I’m scared of plenty of things.” Cyril argues.

“You say you can’t handle high-pressure situations, but when it comes right down to it, you can.” Ray explains. “When you found Trinette in the kitchen, and then today when you got your doctor friend. That was some quick thinkin’.”

“I guess…” Cyril says. “But you help people, too. You helped me so much with my nerves, and my confidence. Just because you don’t have a fancy degree doesn’t mean you’re any less of a person. Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you’re less of a person! You’re strong, confident, patient, kind, funny, and… handsome.” Cyril reaches out to affectionately hold Ray’s hand. Ray looks at him with confusion. “And I feel… amazing… when I’m with you.” It’s a long pause before Ray processes these words.

“Cyril…” Ray gulps, letting go of Cyril’s hand and standing up, going into self-defense mode. “What are you doing?”

“I’m…”

“Do you know what you’re gettin’ yourself into, right now?” He interrupts.

“Yes.” Cyril stands his ground again. “I do. I care about you, I… I want you.”

“Jesus Christ…” Ray shakes his head. “There you go again, not seein’ the big picture. You’ve never had to deal with the world like I had to because of… this!” He gestures wildly between the two of them.

“Does that mean you want me, too?”

“Cyril, you’re not listening.”

“I am, but you’re not answering my question.” Cyril says. “You’re right, Ray, I haven’t had to go through the things you went through, but I’m willing to learn. And I am a little scared, but my desire for you outweighs that. So let me please ask again… do you want me?”

“…” Ray is astonished. This guy, is he for real? This seemingly wimpy-looking man really isn’t a wimp deep down. Where does he get that strength, and can he use some so he can say: “Yes.” He says, still feeling like he wasn’t allowed to say it. Cyril puts down his beer and slowly stands, and they stare at each other for a few seconds. A new song plays on the record.

“Dance with me.” Cyril says, holding out his hand, just like Ray did with him when they first met.

“What? Here? Now?” Ray says.

“Look around.” Cyril says. “This is a safe place.” Ray smirks when Cyril uses his line. They take each other’s hand, slowly moving closer to each other, Cyril’s arms around Ray’s waist and Ray’s arms around his shoulders.

When your baby leaves you all alone
And nobody calls you on the phone
A-don't you feel like a-cryin'?
Don't you feel like cryin'?
Well, here I am, a-honey
A-come on, well, cry to me

This dance is more like very slow and gentle foreplay, moving together and touching one another to see what fits, what feels right. Ray takes off Cyril’s glasses, placing them on the tabletop. They don’t kiss yet, just touch foreheads, nuzzle ears, brush lips against necks. Cyril dips him, that beautiful neck exposed, touching his nose and lips to it. Ray still smells good, even after the dancing and the stress. Ray sighs, trusting Cyril more, threading his hands through black hair and grinding a little more.

When you're all alone in your lonely room
And there's nothing but the smell of her perfume
A-don't you feel like a-cryin'?
A-don't you feel like cryin'?
A-don't you feel like a-cryin'?
A-come on, come on, cry to me

Cyril breaks the hold only to circle around to Ray’s back, pressing himself against him and kissing behind his ear. Ray moans, resting his head on Cyril’s shoulder and reaching behind to touch his hair again. Cyril’s hands roam down to Ray’s hips and thighs before sliding back up to pull Ray’s shirt out of his pants.

Whoa
Nothing can be sadder than a glass of wine alone
Loneliness, loneliness, such a waste of your time, oh yes
You don't ever have to walk alone, you see
A-come on, take my hand, and baby, won't you walk with me?
Whoa yeah

Ray puts his arms up, letting Cyril take it off. Cyril kisses newly exposed shoulders and eagerly touches newly exposed skin. Ray turns to face him, wanting his shirt off, too. Cyril lets him, and Ray slides his hands down and up surprisingly toned pecs and shoulders before pulling him close, flesh on flesh. They’re starting to breathe heavy, now, the air thick with want. Cyril dips him again, coming back up to grind harder on him and Ray gasps, Cyril’s hip bumping into Ray’s clothed erection.

“Heh… so much for being a professional.” Cyril smirks.

“You know what?” Ray doesn’t wait for an answer and pulls Cyril in for a kiss. Hot and sweet, inhaling through their noses as they slid their tongues together, dancing just like they were. The song ends and they pull apart, gazing into each other’s eyes. “Have you ever been with a man before?”

“No.” Cyril answers truthfully.

“Looks like I need to teach you a new lesson.” Ray smirks, kissing Cyril again, leading him to the bed. They climb on, Cyril lying down and Ray crawling on top of him like an ocelot. Cyril finds fluffy blonde hair with his hands, pulling him in for another kiss. They love to kiss each other, the two of them being really good at it. Ray sucks on Cyril’s bottom lip before breaking away, moving lower to kiss Cyril’s trembling Adam’s apple, collarbones, stopping at a nipple to lick, kiss and suck it.

“Ooo…” Cyril moans, Ray kissing his other nipple while unhooking his belt and swiftly pulling it off, working to undo his pants. “Oh, w-wait…” He touches Ray’s hands.

“What?” Ray asks, hoping he’s not backing out of this.

“I just… wanted to warn you…” Cyril stammers. “I’m very, uh… gifted.”

“Oh really~?” Ray grins evilly.

“I just didn’t want to scare yooouuuu…!” Cyril’s interrupted by a hand rubbing and grabbing at his crotch. “Fuck…”

“Lesson one: most gays are size queens, meaning they like big dicks.” Ray slips off Cyril’s pants and underwear. “And I am one of those… holy shit!” His eyes widen, gaping at the long, thick, and hard monster between Cyril’s legs.

“Yeah… I should be in a freak show.” Cyril says shyly.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Ray wraps his hand around it.

“Aahhh~…” Cyril presses his head into the pillow when talented hands dance over his cock.

“I should be in the circus, too, cuz I got a disappearing act to show you.” Ray spits on Cyril’s cock for throat lubrication.

“Wh-Whoa…” Cyril can’t believe Ray just did that. “Hhaaahhh…” Ray wraps his lips around the head and starts to suck slowly, tongue pressing against the underside. “Oh, Ray…” Ray’s mouth works the head while his hand works the rest of it and his testicles. It was already wonderful and Ray was very good at this, but what did he mean by ‘disappearing act’?

“Get ready, baby.” Ray says, and Cyril likes being called that. “Hold your hips still when I do this.” He kisses his cock sweetly.

“What are you doing exact-!” Cyril’s brain short-circuits when Ray puts him in his mouth again and opens his throat, his dick sliding into it halfway, no, more than halfway… “Oh my GOD, Ray, h-how… HHNNNNGH~!” Cyril did his best to keep still, hands digging into the bedspread. He’s spiraling, unable to process how it’s possible to deep-throat a penis, especially one of his size. It feels way too good; Ray’s throat muscles were rhythmically contracting around him, vocal chords sending vibrations through his whole body. He’s scared to even look, but Ray pulls his arm to get his attention, make him look. And when he finally sees his cock disappeared in Ray’s mouth with sexy light brown eyes looking up at him, he comes, praying he doesn’t hurt him or make him choke.

“Mmm~…” Ray pulls away, not a drop of cum spilt. “Linda Lovelace got nothin’ on me. Cyril?” Cyril looks like he’s seen God. “Cyril, honey? You there?”

“N-No…” Cyril says quietly. “I think you killed me.” He weakly raises his head. “How did you… are you…?”

“It takes a lot of practice.” Ray smiles.

“Is that lesson two?”

“No, baby, lesson two is lubricant.” Ray hops off the bed and takes off his pants. Then, he heads for his suitcase, looking around inside while Cyril stares at his ass and legs. “I found it. Vaseline has been a friend of the gays for 80 years.”

“Wow…” Cyril half-hears Ray as he turns to show his impressive erection. His eyes slowly scan upwards, admiring the fit dancer’s body and arms, and such a handsome face… that was smirking at him. “S-Sorry, I was listening, I just…”

“You like what you see?” Ray said that to him the night they met.

“Yes.” Cyril whines, finally allowed to be honest with Ray and himself. “So much. God, you’re gorgeous.”

“I like what I see, too, baby.” Ray crawls on the bed again, lying down next to him and handing him the Vaseline.

“Oh, does this mean I’m topping?” Cyril asks innocently.

“You should stick with what you know, for now.” Ray tells him, giving him a kiss. Cyril keeps the kiss going as he rolls on top of Ray. He needs to touch all of Ray’s perfect skin, kiss pretty lips, high cheekbones and sharp jaw. “Nnn~…” Ray arches up into dexterous fingers that pinch his nipples and run down his abdomen. Cyril’s kisses and ministrations are so gentle and sweet, and Ray wasn’t really used to that, especially coming from the crazy 70s sex world. But he loved this, and loved feeling a gentle hand stroke his cock. “Aahhh~…” He arches into that, now. “Cyril, please…”

“I, uh, won’t be as good as you.” Cyril says, feeling Ray’s cock twitch in his hand.

“Nobody’s as good as me.” He jokes. “You’re gonna do-ooo~…” He shuts up when he feels a shy mouth around the head of his cock. A cute little tongue laps at the pre-cum for a taste. “Cyril…” He runs his fingers through black hair to encourage him, and it worked, Cyril giving him a long and slow suck and a gentle caress of his balls. “Yes, baby, just like that…”

“Mmph~…” Cyril does what he’s told, head bobbing up and down between his legs, one arm wrapping around his thigh to hold on for dear life.

“Yeah, Cyril… keep goin’… I’m gonna come…!” Ray bites his lip as he comes in Cyril’s mouth. Cyril was surprised, not used to the feeling. He swallows, but still coughs, some drooling down his chin. “Oh shit… you okay?”

“Yes… ahem…” Cyril wipes his mouth. “I need to get used to that.”

“You’re learnin’ fast, honey.” Ray spreads his legs more and props himself up on his elbows.

“I haven’t even gotten to lesson two yet.” Cyril gets the hint, opening the Vaseline and spreading it on his fingers. “Is this enough?”

“Yes. Start with one and move your way to three. Would only need two if you weren’t so big~.”

“It’s a blessing and a curse.” Cyril kisses Ray’s beautiful thigh as he pushes his middle finger inside him. Ray sighs, head rolling back between his shoulders. “Jeezy Peats…” Cyril’s awestruck by how it feels, and he can’t wait to feel him around his…

“Put in another finger.” Ray instructs, and Cyril does it, stretching him more. “Ooo, yes…” Ray knows how to relax his hole, and Cyril notices, swallowing hard. “Gimme another, baby, then I’ll give you your third lesson.”

“O-Okay.” Cyril carefully adds a third finger, trying to gauge Ray’s moans to make sure he isn’t in pain. “Are you sure this is… enough?” He asks, squeezing his thigh.

“Don’t worry, Cyril. My ass has been through some crazy stuff.” Ray smirks as Cyril’s eyes widen. “You ready for lesson three?”

“Yes.”

“You know how girls have G-spots, right?” Ray explains. “Well, guys have ‘em, as well. The prostate.”

“Really?” Cyril asks.

“Uh-huh. Palm facin’ up and curl your fingers till you find it.” Ray says. Cyril nods and rubs his fingers inside. “Ooo-hoo, shit…”

“Did I get it?”

“Not yet, but that still feels good. Higher, baby.” Ray tells him, and he pushes his fingers in more and curls them harder. “Trust me, you’ll know when you-!” He’s silenced when it’s hit, fists and ass clenching and driving his hips up. “Sweet mother of Jesus!”

“Wow…” Cyril is amazed by Ray’s aroused expression. He touches that spot again, and Ray jumps in his skin again, his cock at full attention, and come to think of it, so does his. He presses again, but Ray grabs his wrist.

“Okay, hold up!” Ray says, blinking to get his vision right. “I wanna come with you inside me. Lube yourself up, baby.”

“Fuck, Ray…” Cyril grunts, putting Vaseline on his cock before positioning himself between hot legs, pulling Ray’s hips up on his thighs. “Are you ready?”

“God, yes, Cyril.” Ray relaxes himself as Cyril takes his cock and slowly presses the head into Ray’s entrance, the two of them gasping at the sensation. “O-Oh, fuck~…”

“Oh my God~…” Cyril couldn’t believe that being inside of a man could feel so good, and to be inside this man who’s so pretty underneath him… “Ray…”

“Cyril… you can go a little further…” Ray says, giving him a little squeeze.

“Fuck…” He swears again, pushing in more until Ray touches his stomach to tell him to stop.

“God damn, that thing is huge.” Ray gasps.

“I’m sor…”

“Don’t apologize, dumbass.” Ray gives him a playful punch. “Start movin’, but only go up to there.”

“Yes, Ray.” Cyril smiles, pulling out up to the head and slowly thrusting in about halfway. “Ray~…”

“Mmm~…” Ray smooths his hands around Cyril’s neck and shoulders, head relaxing on the pillow and just letting him take the lead for now. “Oh, that feels so good, baby.” He starts moving his hips in time with Cyril’s, and it was like they were dancing again. “More, Cyril~.”

“Nnnnggh~…” Cyril gives him another inch and a little more power, and Ray’s able to take what he’s given. Cyril keeps repeating this pattern, until he’s fully inside Ray with a little extra hip thrust, and they both cry out for each other. “Oh Ray, this is amazing… you’re amazing.”

“So are you.” Ray reaches for him, gripping his shoulders and wrapping his legs around his waist. “Fuck me, baby.”

“Oh, yes…” Cyril leans down, wrapping his arms under Ray’s shoulders and starts pulling him in to meet his hips.

“AAAHHH~!” Ray claws at Cyril’s back, loving the brute force of those hips (he likes to think he taught him that). He looks into dark brown puppy dog eyes, glazed over with lust, the air between them hot and humid like the summer forest outside. He curls his hips to meet Cyril’s the best he can, wanting to find his own prostate. “FUCK!” He squeals when he does, clenching around Cyril.

“Ray, are you okay?” Cyril growls.

“Yes! Oh my God, fuck me there, Cyril!” Ray shouts, heels digging into his lower back. Cyril growls again and starts moving faster, the two of them finding that perfect rhythm… one, two, three, four: thrust, scream, grab, kiss… “Mmmmph~! Cyril~!” Ray cries against his lips.

“Rrrraaaaaaayy~…!” Cyril screams his name as he comes deep inside him. Ray follows without needing to touch his cock at all, spurting between them. They ride it out as long as they can, clinging to each other for dear life until they finally relax, Cyril rolling over and lying beside his new lover until they can breathe normally once more. “Ray, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Really?” Ray looks at him. “Because that was the best love-making I ever had.”

“Ray…” Cyril smiles, leaning in to kiss him, but he was stopped by a finger on his lips.

“We have to be careful, Cyril.” Ray says.

“I assumed.” Cyril agrees. “Because we’re… wait, am I gay?”

“You’re just now askin’ yourself that?” Ray gives him a look. “Do you still like women?”

“Well, uh… yes, I think so. Yes.”

“Then the word you’re looking for is ‘bisexual’.” Ray tells him.

“Bi-sexual. Huh…” Cyril tries it out, and likes it. “I’m bisexual!”

“Yay!” Ray sings, and Cyril snickers. “But yes, we need to be careful. Behind closed doors only, and not in your room, only mine.”

“Can we still dance together?” Cyril asks cutely.

“Yes, of course.” Ray kisses him. “And you get free lessons, baby.”

“Oh, you know I love free things.” Cyril jokes, kissing him again and again until they fall asleep next to each other.

Chapter Text

Dirty Dancing

Chapter 4

:::

Ray knocks on Trinette’s door with a shave and a haircut before she says to come in. She’s surprised to see Ray and Cyril walk in together. “Hey, baby girl.” Ray smiles.

“Oh, you look so much better.” Cyril says, relieved.

“You just missed Dr. Krieger.” Trinette smiles. “He gave me some more drugs and orange juice and told me I’ll be fine. He says I could still have children if I want.”

“Thank God.” Ray comes to sit on her bed.

“Well?” She says. The two men look at each other guiltily. “Don’t keep me in suspense! How did it go last night?”

“Oh, right.” Ray clears his throat. “It went great. Really great.”

“Yeah, we did great.” Cyril agrees. “I made a few mistakes, but…”

“No one noticed.”

“You and I noticed.”

“98 percent of people didn’t notice.” Ray narrows his eyes. “If my math is right.”

“It’s adequate.” Cyril smirks in a very sexy way. Trinette feels like she’s in a sitcom.

“Thanks for checkin’ on me, Cyril.” Trinette says. “But can I talk to Ray for a bit?”

“Sure. See you later.” Cyril gets the hint and heads out the door, but he sits on the steps and leans against the wall, wanting to hear what they’re going to talk about.

“You figured it out, didn’t you?” Ray asks Trinette.

“Ray…”

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t get mixed up with them, but…”

“Ray…”

“I know what I’m doin’! And he’s… different, alright?”

“Ray!” Trinette stops his ranting. “I get it, okay? I wasn’t gonna tell you to stop, I was just gonna tell you to be careful. If Ms. Archer finds out…”

“Oh, that’ll be the least of her worries.” Ray is angry again.

“Calm down, hun. I’m okay, now.” Trinette soothes him. “Hey… how was it, huh?”

“Oh my God, amazing.” Ray giggles. “He’s packin’, just like you said.”

“I told you!” She says, and he holds his hands up to show how much Cyril Figgis is packing. “No fucking way!”

“Way!” Ray and Trinette giggle like schoolgirls before he bids her goodbye, probably giving her another kiss on her forehead before leaving. Cyril gets up from the stoop, brushing himself off and pretending like he didn’t hear any of that. “You heard all that, huh?”

“I… heard… what I needed to hear.” Cyril responds.

“Creep.” Ray smirks, putting his sunglasses on. “Listen, I gotta get to work, but I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you.” That made Cyril feel giddy and warm inside.

:::

“Hey, you two.” Pam finds Cyril and Krieger playing chess in the game room. It was raining like hell outside, so everyone was stuck indoors.

“Hey! Did you talk to Ms. Archer?” Cyril asks.

“Yeah. She says she had no idea the doctor she hired was a quack sadist.” Pam replies.

“Of course she would deny it.” Cyril rolls his eyes.

“What she should do is report this so-called ‘doctor’.” Krieger suggests. “No doctor would deny pain medication for those who need it.”

“She says she’ll do what she can, and she’ll visit Trinette.”

“Hopefully Ray won’t be there for that.” Cyril tells her. “He will wring her skinny neck.”

“Oh, and that reminds me, could you tell Ray what I told you? I’m really fucking busy today.” Pam says. “Oh, and Krieger, Ms. Archer also said she wants to thank you somehow, but I don’t know how yet.”

“We can negotiate on something.” Krieger says creepily.

“I will, Pam.” Cyril smiles before Pam leaves. He keeps smiling, thinking about seeing Ray later.

“You’re glowing.” Krieger says. “Hopefully you’re not pregnant.”

“You know, that’s not the first male pregnancy joke I heard since getting here.” Cyril says, moving his rook. “I’m just happy this vacation hasn’t turned out to be a total waste of time. I’m… making new friends.”

:::

The rain refuses to let up as Cyril makes the trek to Ray’s bungalow in a raincoat and hat. He knocks on the door and Ray lets him in. “Come in, Mr. Humphrey Bogart.” Ray jabs, closing the door behind Cyril.

“So it’s Humphrey Bogart, now?” Cyril takes his coat and hat off and hangs them on the hook. “Yesterday, I was Marlon Brando.”

“He was hiding under the hat.” Ray fixes his hair, loving to put his finger in that curl. “Hey~.” He wraps his arms around Cyril’s shoulders.

“Hey.” Cyril smirks, kissing him softly.

“It was really hard to concentrate on work today.” Ray grins.

“Hopefully, I didn’t hurt you.” Cyril wraps his arms around Ray, gently touching his bum.

“You didn’t.” Ray presses himself flush against Cyril. “I’d hate to make you jealous, but you’re not the biggest man I’ve had inside me.”

“Jeezy Peats, how are you still alive?” Cyril asks.

“That is a good question, sweetheart.” Ray steps back. “Not about the dicks in my ass, but about my lifestyle back then.”

“Really?” Cyril is curious. “I know the 60s and 70s were insane with the ‘free love’ thing, but what were the gay free love parties like?”

“Well, the Christians will call it demonic.” Ray pulls out a cigarette and lights it. “And I’d have to agree. Drugs, sex, and more drugs and sex.”

“No rock n’ roll in between?”

“Too high to hear it.” Ray answers. “Listen, I came from West Virginnie; there’s nothin’ there but chickens and churches. There was nothing gay at all, and then I come to New York and suddenly it’s… too much. It wasn’t a gradual build, you know? I’m thrown into this world, and I don’t know what to do except go with it. I used to wake up still inside someone with semen on my mouth and a bowl of molly dropped at my feet.”

“Jesus.” Cyril sits in the chair.

“This guy with the dick bigger than yours was at one of these parties.” Ray tells him. “He’s black, cock down to his knees. And all of us queens took turns, seein’ who could take him all in our mouths, or all in our asses.”

“Would the winner get anything?”

“Yeah, medical bills.” Ray jokes, taking a drag. “The last party I went to… God, was it six or seven years ago… well, it snapped me out of my near decade-long bender.”

“And… what was the theme? Two black guys?”

“Ha, no…” Ray holds up his fist, seeing if Cyril would get the hint. “This… in the ass.”

“No…!” Cyril’s jaw drops to the floor.

“Yeah, that was… that was the end for me.” Ray smiles. “Big dicks all day but a fist? No. Absolutely no way.”

“And I thought I’d been to some wild parties.” Cyril undoes his tie.

“Huh, the heterosexuals could never.” Ray scoffs, taking another drag. “I never asked, but does this bother you?” He swings his cigarette.

“No.” Cyril shakes his head. “But, you do know that it’s not good for you, right?”

“It’s either this or molly.” Ray gets one more puff before putting it out in his ashtray. “Want some music?”

“Always.” Cyril stands up while Ray picks an album, putting it in the player.

Tonight you're mine completely
You give your love so sweetly
Tonight the light of love is in your eyes
But will you love me tomorrow?

“The answer is yes, by the way.” Cyril hugs him from behind.

“What?” Ray looks over his shoulder.

“The song? It says, ‘But will you love me tomorrow?’” Cyril says, but then realizes that it might sound like… “I mean, not ‘love’, but definitely like, too soon for love, but… you know, from last night to tonight…”

“Calm down, I get it.” Ray rests his arms over Cyril’s.

“What I mean is… I’m not going to let this be just a fling. I want to see you after the summer is over… if that’s what you want.”

“That sounds… really nice.” Ray says, resting his head against his. “Never really had a relationship like that before.”

“If you’re not comfortable with something, just let me know.” Cyril watches as Ray spins himself out and in to face him, and they slow dance a little more.

Is this a lasting treasure
Or just a moment's pleasure?
Can I believe the magic of your sighs?
Will you still love me tomorrow?

“May I ask you something kind of… personal?” Cyril looks him in the eyes.

“Well, I already told you about the damn orgy parties, so… go ahead, ask me anything.” Ray quips, smirking.

“Have you ever… been with a woman?”

“No.” Ray shakes his head. “Kissed a few, but no, nothin’ other than that.”

“Yeah? And how was that?”

“Icky.” He sticks his tongue out. “Girls got cooties, don’t you know that?”

“Ha, right.” Cyril snickers. “I’m sorry I asked, I’m just…”

“Curious?” Ray leans closer. “Curious, Mr. Freud, of how a man could possibly not want anything to do with a woman? I love women, actually. I think they’re great, and smart, and beautiful, and yet sexually? I don’t want anythin’ to do with ‘em.”

“Ray…”

“Oh, but the women here, these rich socialites…” Ray pulls away, starting to go off on a tangent. “They’re vile snakes. You know, it’s a pretty open secret that I’m gay, right? I’m as gay as a maypole, and most people accept it or don’t. But these women are like, ‘Oh, maybe he hasn’t met the right girl, yet, but I could be that girl’. And then, they make it a competition, to see which one of them could get my dick first. They put their money, diamonds, and room keys in my pockets, touch me, giggle and flirt with me. Yet they refuse to see the truth right in their faces. I don’t know which is worse: outright prejudice or this passive aggressive vyin’ for me when they know that I won’t.” He pauses as he sits on the edge of the bed. “But sometimes… times are rough, and I think that if I just do it, they’ll give me everything, like they promised, and all I have to do is fuck ‘em.”

“Oh my God, Ray…” Cyril knows the feeling, to an extent. But he holds onto that for now, and just lets Ray have his moment, crawling on the bed to sit behind Ray and just hold him.

“I’m sorry, Cyril. I just needed to vent.” Ray says, once again leaning back into his touch. They sat there in silence for a while, listening to the music.

Tonight with words unspoken
You say that I'm the only one
But will my heart be broken
When the night (when the night)
Meets the morning (meets the morning) sun?

“Ray… would you… top me?” Cyril asks.

“My God, you are horny.” Ray smirks. “I like it.”

“Oh, yeah?” Cyril smirks, too.

“Are you sure?” Ray looks at him now.

“I’m sure.” Cyril smiles. “I trust you.”

“You are gonna hurt a little tomorrow, since it’s your first time.” Ray says.

“Not like I have anything planned.” Cyril says.

“Alright, rich boy.” Ray turns around and gets on his knees while Cyril pulls his legs over the edge of the bed. Ray undoes Cyril’s belt, pulling it off slowly before unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. “You know, I’ve never taken anyone’s virginity, before.”

“Oh, me, a virgin again.” Cyril jokes, running his hand through beautiful blonde hair.

“I’m also not gonna do my disappearing act every time.” Ray pulls that big cock out of funny tightie-whities.

“Th-That’s totally fine, I’m sure it’s very…” Cyril feels soft lips press against the base of his cock. “Taxing.”

“Yeah, especially for this shlong.” Ray, despite his tone, worships his giant cock, stroking it long and hard and kissing and licking it hotly.

“Ooohhh, fuck…!” Cyril lets out a groan, lightly tugging Ray’s hair. Ray gasps, looking up at Cyril with mischievous eyes. “Oh sorry…”

“Don’t be~…” Ray licks the pre-cum off the tip while looking him dead in the eyes. “Do it harder.”

“Fuck.” Cyril says again as Ray’s pretty lips wrap around the head. He puts both hands in Ray’s hair and pulls harder like he’s told.

“Mmmmm~…” Ray moans around his cock, sucking very wetly and messy, making erotic sounds that assaulted Cyril’s ears. Cyril silently blesses Ray’s experience, since it clearly made him the greatest at fellatio, and probably made him a great top, too… oh, he’s getting ahead of himself. Ray’s hands and mouth work hard to make him release, looking up at him and his lustful face.

“Ray… Ray…” Cyril says his name like a prayer. Just a little more… Ray’s teeth purposely scrape against the head. “RAY!!” He comes, and once again Ray swallows it, not making a mess at all. “Oh, Ray…” Cyril flops back on the bed.

“Don’t wear out my name, Cyril.” He says. “I haven’t even done what you asked.” Cyril can only nod and move to the center of the bed, fumbling to take off his pants while Ray strips and finds the Vaseline. “If you don’t like it, we can always stop, okay?”

“Thank you.” Cyril says, spreading his legs and it sends shivers down Ray’s body to his cock. “You’re so sweet.”

“Ugh, you don’t know me at all.” Ray smirks, layering his fingers with lube, and then massaging Cyril’s hole. Cyril jumps a little, just from the coldness of the lube, not fear. “Listen, the key to bottoming is relaxation. All these muscles…” Ray touches his thighs, groin, around to his lower back and of course, the anus. “They’re all connected. It’s like a flower blooming, one circle opens, and then another and another.”

“Roger.” Cyril nods in understanding. Ray slowly slips one finger and he gasps, focusing on doing the relaxing thing.

“Good.” Ray knows Cyril likes praise. He keeps the one finger going for longer than he normally would, before just touching his hole with another, and Cyril expectedly seized up. “Relax, baby.” Ray puts his other hand on Cyril’s lower abdomen, and he takes a deep breath to relax again. Ray smiles and adds the second finger and they both moan this time. Ray was really turned on by the fact that he would be this sexy attorney’s first anal. “You’re doin’ really good, Cyril. I’m gonna add a third finger just to be sure you’re ready, okay?”

“Yeah… it feels so good, Ray.” Cyril’s eyes find Ray’s erection. “You know, you’re pretty big yourself.”

“I guess. Just compared to yours…” Ray adds a third finger, and Cyril’s getting the hang of it by now.

“Aaahhh… well… I’m a freak, so…”

“Let me guess: you were bullied about how big you are.”

“How could you have guessed?”

“Bullies will literally pick anything to nag on you about.” Ray smirks. “And they were just jealous, anyway.” He moves three fingers in and out of Cyril.

“Oh, Jesus…” Cyril spreads his legs more unconsciously, making Ray’s cock harder. He needed to get inside this man, but first…

“I’m gonna find your prostate now, baby.” Ray grunts, curling his fingers up and pressing the tips to his walls.

“Ooo~…” Cyril likes this and it feels so good, so what could the prostate possibly feel like… just like Ray did the night before, he freezes and clenches around Ray’s fingers, mouth unable to make a sound.

“It’s unbelievable, right?” Ray grins wickedly, touching it again.

“OH my GOD!!” Cyril found his voice, pushing his hips up for more. It was incredible: it hurts but it feels good, it’s shocking to the very fabric of a man’s being and yet it feels so right. His cock is so hard and weeping on his stomach, pre-cum ruining his shirt. “Ray, I’m gonna…!”

“Not yet.” Ray slowly pulls his fingers out and Cyril whimpers, missing the feeling. “Don’t worry, baby. I got you.” He lubes up his cock. “You ready?”

“Yes, dear God please, yes!” Cyril begs. Ray smiles, admiring that fearlessness in the attorney yet again. Most men are afraid to be so vulnerable; hell, even he had his problems with it, but Cyril Figgis is unafraid to beg for pleasure underneath him, and it is so sexy. Ray lines up his cock with Cyril’s hole and presses the head in, groaning together in harmony. “Hhhaaaahhhh~…” Cyril loosens his muscles as best he can, breathing like he’s in labor.

“Good job, Cyril…” Ray undoes the first two buttons of Cyril’s shirt, leaning down to kiss his neck and pushing his hips in more until he met more resistance. “Holy fuck~…” Ray hisses against sweaty skin.

“Ah, Jeezy Peats…” Cyril’s head is spinning. He can’t believe how good it feels. He kisses Ray, slowly and lovingly, and it makes him more relaxed. Ray can now go all the way inside and they gasp against each other’s lips.

“How do you feel, baby?” Ray asks, nibbling on his lip.

“Good. Great. Fantastic.” Cyril says, smiling against his lips.

“I’m gonna start movin’, alright?”

“Alright.” Cyril prepares himself and Ray starts thrusting his hips, gently until this flick of his hips at the end of each one. Oh yes… Ray knows how to top. Cyril moans and shudders, gripping Ray’s shoulders and just letting himself feel and go along with the ride.

“You’re doin’ so good.” Ray praises. “You feel so good. Tight little virgin ass.” He kisses Cyril’s dimple.

“Oooohhh~…” Cyril likes praise and dirty talk, blushing madly.

“I’m gonna speed things up.” Ray sits up and wraps his arms around Cyril’s legs, hands gripping his fat ass. He winds his hips up and begins to pound into him like a jackhammer, kind of like how he danced with Trinette in the barn house.

“H-Holy shit!” Cyril swears, finding purchase with the pillow, squeezing it on either side of his head. Ray pulls him in to meet his mastered thrusts, and his legs flail a bit before he hooks them around Ray’s hips.

“There you go, baby.” Ray grins, pulling his ass up higher and fucking him harder, trying to find that spot inside Cyril.

“FUCK!” Cyril practically shrieks, everything locking still and clenching around Ray.

“Ooo, fuck~…” Ray grunts. “Let me fuck you there, Cyril.”

“Oh, Ray, please!” Cyril pleads, wiggling his hips and needing Ray to fuck him. Ray hits that spot inside him over and over, and he feels his own cock throbbing on his stomach but didn’t think he needed to touch it to come, and he was definitely right. “Ray…! RAY!!” He comes all over his shirt, and when Ray sees that, he comes as well, forgetting to ask if he could come inside but Cyril sure didn’t seem to mind, high on the euphoria of the orgasm. Ray lowers Cyril’s hips back to the bed and leans forward, tired as fuck but just double-checking to make sure he was okay. Cyril is way more than okay, and pulls Ray down for a passionate kiss. “Thank you, Ray. That was wonderful.”

“It really was.” Ray pulls out, checking to make sure Cyril’s asshole is still intact. Then he flops down on the bed next to him, Cyril cuddling right up against Ray like the puppy dog he is.

“Ugh, my shirt is ruined.” Cyril feels the stickiness on his skin.

“You didn’t pack the right clothes for a summer vacation.” Ray says. “Who wears a long-sleeve tapered shirt as loungewear?”

“Well, excuse me, guy who always wears black.” Cyril claps back. “But I don’t go on vacation often.”

“Ooo, listen to you~.” Ray squeals. “Day two of coming out and you already know how to read a queen.”

“What?”

“Reading is when you find a flaw in someone and point it out in a non-hurtful, funny way. It’s how the gays talk to each other.”

“Oh.” Cyril is still kind of confused. “You guys just… politely insult each other?”

“Real friends tease each other all the time, don’t they?” Ray asks. “It’s how we show love.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Cyril agrees. “I was only joking. You look great in black.”

“Thanks.” Ray kisses him. “And you look great in a tapered shirt.”

“Thank you.” Cyril smirks. “Oh, I was supposed to tell you something. Pam told me that Ms. Archer didn’t know the doctor would do what he did.”

“Of course she would say that.” Ray says.

“That’s what I said.” Cyril says. “But, there’s no way to prove if she’s lying.”

“Oh, that cunt.” Ray clicks his tongue. “She doesn’t care about anything except her money and anyone except herself and her idiot son.”

“Tell me about it.”

“You know why she hates me so much?” Ray looks at Cyril. “Because she can’t sleep with me to manipulate me. And she taught her son to do the same thing to get what he wants.”

“You too, huh?” Cyril raises his eyebrows.

“Wait, what? She…” Ray’s face twisted in disgust. “Oh please, tell me you didn’t…”

“NO! No.” Cyril assures him. “But she tried. And now, after Archer seduces Trinette and leaves her to rot, he’s going after my ex-wife.”

“Oh shit…” Ray shakes his head. “You gotta warn her about him.”

“Ah, I want to, but she won’t want to hear it.” Cyril tells him. “She’ll think I’m trying to get her back, still.”

“You’re not?” Ray asks quietly, and Cyril gives him this incredulous look. “I don’t like sharin’.”

“I haven’t thought of her like that once since I first saw you dance.” Cyril hugs him tighter. “I’m over her, Ray, I swear on my mother.”

“Good.” Ray kisses him hotly. “Cuz you’re mine now, puppy.”

“P-Puppy?” Cyril stutters.

“Yeah, cuz you got those cute little puppy dog eyes.” Ray kisses him again, and Cyril just melts.

“W-Well, you have fully trained me.” Cyril goes with it.

“Good boy.” Ray lets Cyril climb on top of him as they kiss, ignoring the crashing rain on the roof of the bungalow.

Chapter Text

Dirty Dancing

Chapter 5

:::

The rain finally passes and everyone’s outside again, except for Cyril and Ray, who are fooling around and dancing in the studio. Cyril’s pretending to teach Ray how to cha-cha-cha, acting like the stickler Ray is when he’s teaching. “You got to count! One, two, cha-cha-cha!” Cyril says, and Ray tries not to laugh, letting his arms dangle. “Spaghetti arms!” Ray grins, getting too close to Cyril. “You’re invading my dance space, this is my dance space, and this is your dance space!” Ray isn’t listening, rolling his body down Cyril’s. “Don’t look down! I’m right here.” Cyril pulls Ray’s chin up.

“Jeezy Peats!” Ray starts acting like Cyril whenever he messed up, false swearing and pulling away, kicking at invisible things. Cyril starts laughing, going to sit on the floor while Ray starts actually dancing a cha-cha-cha. They give each other a knowing look when the bridge of the song is about to start.

Sylvia
Yes, Mickey
How do you call your lover boy
Come here, lover boy
And if he doesn't answer
Oh lover boy
And if he still doesn't answer
I simply say
Baby, oh baby

They lip-sync with each other, Cyril playing Mickey and Ray playing Sylvia. Cyril acts suave, sitting on the floor sexily, while Ray moves in a feminine way, sticking his hips out and flourishing his arms.

My sweet baby, you're the one
Baby, oh baby
My sweet baby, you're the one

Ray starts to crawl like a cat toward Cyril while Cyril plays his air guitar. They finally meet, lip-syncing against each other’s mouths while pulling themselves up off the floor. They’re about to kiss until they hear the door opening.

“Ray!” Cheryl comes in, and Cyril and Ray part before they’re caught, Cyril pretending to practice his dance moves while Ray practically runs to the record player. “Cyril.” Cheryl is disgusted to see him, and it’s likewise for him. “How’s your son?”

“Hm?” Cyril takes a second to remember his own lie. “Oh, yeah, he’s great. I sent him a postcard.” He lies again. Ray is privy to this lie that Cyril spun, finding it ingenious.

“Good for you.” Cheryl walks over to Ray. “Ray, Ms. Archer put me in charge of the last show. I thought we could mix things up a bit, do something different.”

“Really?” Ray’s eyes light up. “Well, yeah! I got a lot of ideas! I was thinking about Latin fusions, and maybe some sexy jazz…”

“Whoa, okay, don’t know what any of that means.” Cheryl snorts, putting her hands up. “We don’t want to scare the old people! If they die they won’t be able to come back next year! No no no, I was just thinking that instead of the mambo, you could do a jive!” Cheryl does jazz hands. “A good, old-fashioned American dance!”

“Uh-huh…” Ray stares down at her. Cyril watches all this in the reflection of the mirror.

“Well, you could do the same, boring Spanish dance again, and I could find another lead dancer for next year’s performance, which will be a jive.” She crosses her arms.

“Sure, Cheryl. That is a terrific idea.” Ray brightens his voice as best he can. “I will get right on that. No problem.”

“Good.” Cheryl turns on her heel and heads out the door, saying something under her breath about poor people being easy to manipulate. Ray slams the record player closed, making Cyril jump.

:::

“She wants a jive, I’ll give her a jive!” Ray says heatedly, walking with Cyril on a bridge. “I’ll jive right up her skinny little ass!”

“I wish she was more open to your idea.” Cyril agrees, shaking his head. “But she’s… Cheryl.”

“Oh, these rich people. All they have to do is dangle my paycheck in my face like a fuckin’ carrot.” Ray growls. “I need this job, Cyril. It’s the best one I get all year.”

“I know, dear.” Cyril reaches up to touch Ray’s cheek, but Ray steps back, looking down the hill at something. Cyril turns to find Lana, Archer and AJ walking together. “Jesus.” He shakes his head, wishing he could talk to Lana about Archer, but she’ll just have to figure it out for herself.

“She’s… really beautiful.” Ray hadn’t gotten a good look at Lana before today.

“Yeah.” Cyril says. “But I told you, I’m over her.”

“That’s not what I was thinkin’ about.” Ray says.

“Well, what were you thinking about?” Cyril puts his hands on his hips.

“I was thinkin’ that… you have some kind of fetish for minorities.” Ray is blunt.

“What?!” Cyril says.

“Well, your ex-wife is black, I’m gay…” Ray tries to explain. “What, do you absorb our cultures into your body like Brainiac?”

“First of all, that is a great reference.” Cyril is impressed with Ray’s comic book knowledge. “But no! I guess I could see how you’d perceive it that way, but I never really thought about Lana being black. I just said to myself, ‘What a beautiful woman, I have to meet her.’”

“Okay, I believe you.” Ray puts his hands up, smirking. “Never saw the big picture, even when you were with her.”

“I really didn’t.” Cyril says. There’s a pause. “You know what my real problem is?” He steps closer to Ray. “I always go for people out of my league.”

“…” Ray grins, loving the debonair look on Cyril’s face. “You’re good.” He pokes Cyril. “And also shut up. You’re outta no one’s league.”

“If you say so.” Cyril shrugs.

“And if you don’t come and fuck me right now, I’ll shove a big ol’ piece of kryptonite up your ass.”

“Oh, another Superman reference…” Cyril pretends to be turned on (he is, though). Ray giggles and starts walking fast to his bungalow with Cyril following behind like the lovesick puppy he is. It feels like it takes too long to get to his bungalow, but they finally make it, Ray closing the door hard behind them. Cyril can’t even wait to take it to the bed, taking his glasses off before kissing Ray senseless, tongues slicking together as violently as possible. He nearly tears Ray’s wife beater off of him before slamming him against the wall, kissing him more before biting and sucking on that beautiful neck, eating him alive and for sure leaving marks.

“Oh, fuck~…” Ray has trouble breathing, hands clinging to any part of Cyril that he could find: hair, neck, shirt, ass. Cyril’s hands work to undo Ray’s tight pants, lowering himself down to his knees with a trail of kisses in his wake. He pulls Ray’s pants down, takes his hardening cock in his hand and begins kissing and licking it. “Ooo, God damn~…!” Ray bites his knuckles, loving that Cyril was such a fast learner. Cyril wraps his lips around Ray’s dick and starts to suck, learning from Ray to flatten his tongue around the underside and apply pressure. “Cyyyyrriiillll…” He threads his fingers through black hair, lightly tugging. Cyril knows that means he wants more, and so he sucks harder, not caring if his jaw would hurt the next day. “Oh Cyril, baby, I’m gonna come…!” Ray shudders as he comes in Cyril’s mouth. Cyril does still make a little bit of a mess, but it’s easier this time. He looks up at Ray, who is full of euphoria as he gazes down at his lover. “Come here, lover boy.”

“Jeezy Peats~…” Cyril almost came in his pants at that, standing up to kiss his beautiful man again.

“Get the lube, baby.” Ray orders. “And take off all your clothes so they don’t get dirty!”

“R-Right.” Cyril hurriedly takes off his clothes before going to find the lube, while Ray kicks off his pants. Cyril comes back and lubes up his fingers. “So, how are we going to…?” Ray lifts up his leg, showing off his flexibility. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Ray smirks. Cyril helps Ray out, hooking his arm around the lifted leg. He takes his lubed fingers and pushes one into Ray’s hole. “You can start with two, now.” Ray tells him. Cyril nods and presses another finger in. “Mmm~…” Ray lolls his head back and Cyril’s lips latch onto his neck once again. “Oh, baby, you’re so good…”

“Ray…” Cyril adds a third finger, glad that Ray is still tight after his freakish cock has been inside him. “Ray, you’re the most beautiful man in the world.”

“Oh, you make me feel like it.” Ray pushes against Cyril’s hand. “I’m ready for you.”

“Fuck, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for you.” Cyril removes his fingers and awkwardly lubes his hard cock. He hikes Ray’s leg up higher as he moves closer, pressing the head of his cock into Ray’s opening. “Rrrgh~…” He growls, Ray’s nails digging into his shoulders.

“Aaahhhh~…” Ray moans, breath shaking. Cyril’s big cock is so hot and pulsing, wanting to go all the way in. Ray relaxes and rocks his hips into Cyril’s, slipping in about halfway.

“Oooo~…” Cyril holds himself up by pressing his hand against the wall. He moves his hips with Ray’s, this angle amazing and hitting different spots inside him. Ray honestly didn’t know how he was able to stand on one foot right now; actually, maybe he wasn’t, but he couldn’t tell. He just kept grinding closer and closer until Cyril was fully sheathed inside him. “Oh, Jesus, Ray…” Cyril’s voice is hoarse and downright sexy in Ray’s ear.

“Nnnngh~…” Ray’s eyes roll in the back of his head, running his fingers through Cyril’s black hair. “Fuck me, Superman.” He bites Cyril’s ear, not about to unravel just yet. But something breaks inside Cyril, and his hips start carving into Ray’s, unable to hold back anymore. Ray squeals in excitement and pleasure, letting his hero take the lead. Cyril’s thrusts are hard but he doesn’t feel like he’s deep enough.

“Can I lift you?” Cyril asks.

“Oh God, yes!” Ray likes where this is going, holding tight onto Cyril as he scoops up Ray’s other leg, adjusting his balance and pressing Ray against the wall. “Holy fuckin’ SHIT, Cyril!!” Luckily, Cyril’s dick stayed in and he grinds his hips up to meet Ray’s, and Ray sees stars in his eyes. “Oooohhh, my God!” Ray didn’t think his voice could go that high. Cyril is post-verbal now, groaning and grunting as he carves into his lover, wondering how he could have survived without knowing this feeling, not just physical but the passion. He never felt like this with anyone else, and it was hard to describe, like… like they were equals. Not in looks, or wealth, or skills, but – dare he even say it to himself – love. “Oh… ooo~… CYRIL!!”

“Rrrraaayyy~!” They come at the same time. It’s a long one and they milk it for all it’s worth, thrusting, clawing and kissing till the end. They look in each other’s eyes and giggle as they come down from their high. Cyril carefully puts Ray down, but he can’t (or won’t) stand and just slides down the wall, grabbing Cyril’s arms to pull him down with him. Cyril laughs and joins him on the floor, the two sitting side by side.

“You really are Superman.” Ray says. “Pickin’ me up and flyin’ me home.”

“Oh Ray, you’re so wonderful.” Cyril wraps his arms around Ray. “Why can’t Cheryl or Ms. Archer see that?”

“I swear, Cheryl is a product of incest.” Ray says. “And that’s comin’ from the guy from the Holler who’s family tree is a circle.”

“Ha.” Cyril snickers. “I’d love to see the ideas you had for the last performance.”

“How about you come to our little summer-half-over party in a couple days?” Ray smiles. “I’ll show you then.”

“You mean a staff party?” Cyril asks. “Will that be okay?”

“The staff know to keep each other’s secrets.” Ray says. “And I’m invitin’ you, so it’s okay. They all know you’re not like the others.”

“I hope I’m not.” Cyril says.

“I know you aren’t.” Ray leans in to kiss him.

:::

The party is just like the one they had at the beginning of the summer. Cyril asked to borrow some white dance pants to go with one of his only summer shirts and a wife beater under it. Ray takes it upon himself to fully unbutton Cyril’s floral shirt and untuck it from his pants. Ray wears black pants and a red satin shirt that showed a lot of cleavage. Nobody seemed surprised when the two men walked in together. Eh, news travels fast, but it always stays with the staff. Cyril thought about all the secrets they must know about the rich people that vacation here, and now they have something on him, too: his absolute infatuation with Ray.

“Hey, boys.” Trinette comes up behind Ray, poking his stomach.

“Baby girl, what are you doin’ here?” Ray asks.

“Ugh, if I laid in that bed another day I’d jam glass in my eyes.” She scoffs. “Cyril, do you mind if I steal him for a dance?”

“Not at all.” Cyril smiles.

“You can dance with other people, baby. I’ll let you.” Ray says to him. “Just don’t fall in love with any of ‘em.”

“There’s no way I could.” Cyril says in a debonair voice. Ray needs to be yanked away by Trinette.

“I’ve never seen you this way.” Trinette still isn’t at her best, yet. She just slow dances with him. “It’s cute, but also gross.”

“God, he’s got me.” Ray says. “Who knew lawyers could be sexy?”

“Don’t get too lost, sweetie.” She warns him. “Don’t end up like me.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Ray holds her close. “Archer is always the one to blame. Now, he’s preying on Cyril’s ex-wife.”

“Christ.” She shakes her head against Ray’s chest. “I feel bad for her.”

“Uh-oh.” Ray looks over at Cyril, who’s awkwardly dancing with a man named Charles. “Charles found a new toy.”

“My God.” Trinette snickers. “Go save him.”

“Yeah.” Ray and Trinette head back to Cyril, with Ray cutting in between them. “I see you met Charles, Cyril.”

“Y-Yes.” Cyril fixes his glasses.

“Oh, we sure met, all right.” Charles swoons. “You’ve got yourself a cutie here, Ray. Moving on up, as they say.”

“Where’s Rudy, Charles?” Ray asks.

“Getting high in the corner and can barely stand.” Charles rolls his eyes. “He told me to go get fucked, so~…”

“We’re not open to a ménage right now, girlfriend. Probably never, to be honest.” Ray says, and Cyril blushes. “Cyril, Charles and Rudy are the queens of the samba, and the only two men in the world gayer than me.”

“The samba?” Cyril repeats. “Like those girls in all those feathers in Brazil?”

“Yes, sweetie. It’s a ballroom dance, too.” Charles says. “You really gotta shake your assets.”

“It’s considered the hardest dance.” Ray explains.

“Really?” Cyril says.

“Come on, Ray, let’s show him how it’s done.” Charles leans in close. “You do remember our routine, don’t you?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Ray smirks, looking at Cyril. “Do you mind again?”

“As long as I get the next dance.” Cyril smirks back.

“Alright. Everyone, clear out, make a hole!” Charles makes everybody clear the dance floor and tells the jockey to put on a samba record.

“You say I dance masculine.” Ray whispers. “Watch me be a fabulous femme.” Cyril is intrigued as Ray heads to the center of the dance floor with Charles and strikes a feminine pose. The upbeat music starts and Ray moves his amazing hips in a tantalizing circle, his arms over his head before moving down his head and body in a beautiful way. Everyone cheers for them as they dance together. The samba has an interesting bounce to the movements that Cyril can tell now isn’t easy to learn. Gliding up and down in an Argentine tango was already hard for him. Oh, but who cares about the specifics. Ray is gorgeous as he dances with Charles, moving those sexy hips and long legs and stunning arms with grace and seduction. Charles dips Ray all the way to the floor and the music ends, everybody applauding for them. Cyril is blown away once again by his perfect boyfriend. Charles and Ray bow and everyone gets back to dancing like normal. Ray comes back to Cyril, loving the look on his face. “Well, what did you think?”

“Ray, I already thought you were the best dancer in the world, but now I think you’re the best dancer in the universe.” Cyril kisses his hand.

“Oh, honey…” Ray smiles, pulling him closer. “Now, let’s dance, just you and me, for like, five songs in a row.”

“Let’s.” Cyril leads Ray to the dance floor and they grind and sway together for such a long time. They’re in bliss, forgetting about everyone else as they moved together as one. They give each other a sweet kiss, not hearing a drunken voice singing along to the music until the jockey yanks the needle off the record. They hear the silence and pull apart to find Sterling Archer crashing their party, drunk as a skunk.

“Hey, don’t stop the homo party!” Archer shouts. “I see Ray turned you gay, Cyril. Hey, it’s probably for the best since you can’t please women.”

“Archer…” Cyril is seething.

“Get out of here, Archer.” Ray steps forward. “You weren’t invited.”

“Hey, I can go wherever I want. My name is on the damn brochure, Ray!”

“Get the fuck out.” Ray balls up his fists. “I’m warnin’ you.”

“Please, you don’t scare me.” Archer sees Trinette come up behind Ray. “Oh, hey, Trinette. Sorry for knocking you up, but don’t worry, I’m not gonna bother you, anymore, because I got jungle fever.” Ray has enough, charging at Archer and slamming him into the sound equipment, knocking him to the ground. Ray grabs Archer’s thick hair to pull him up before punching him square in the nose, blood spurting out and getting on his knuckles. He punches Archer in the ribs, next, Archer doubling over in pain and snorting out blood.

“RAY! STOP!” Trinette yells while Cyril just stands there in shock.

“Hit me! Hit me, you little trust-fund bitch!” Ray points to his own face, egging Archer on. Archer gives in and punches him in the jaw, then a few times in the stomach.

“Oh God, why isn’t anyone stopping this?!” Cyril finally snaps out of it, running to get in between them. “Archer, stop!” Archer doesn’t listen and punches Cyril in the face, his glasses flying off.

“CYRIL!” Ray punches Archer right in the solar plexus. A fire rose in Cyril as he held his pained cheek. He balled his fists and punched Archer in the jaw. Ray looked at Cyril for just a second before landing the finishing blow to Archer’s chin, and the rich boy falls to the ground, spitting out blood. Ray grabs Archer’s shirt and says: “Get the fuck outta here, you filthy pig!” He pulls Archer up and shoves him toward the door.

“You’re fucking crazy!” Archer says. “You’ll fucking pay for this!”

“Yeah, you go tell your mommy that you got beat up by a faggot!” Ray screams, watching Archer stumble away. The adrenaline wears off and he starts to feel pain in his stomach and face. Cyril comes up to him, checking to see if Ray was okay. Ray does the same, glad to see that neither of them are bleeding. “Alright, alright, it’s over. Keep the party goin’.” Ray says, and everybody reluctantly goes back to dancing, the music starting back up. Somebody hands Cyril his glasses while Trinette comes to pull them off the dance floor and to sit on a sofa in the back.

“Are you two fuckin’ crazy?!” Trinette scolds them. “Ray, you’re going to get fired!”

“Please, Archer’s pride won’t let him tell who beat the shit outta him.” Ray says.

“You don’t know that!” Trinette says back. “And you! What the hell got into you?” She turns to Cyril now.

“I-I don’t know.” Cyril answers honestly. “I never punched anyone before!”

“It’s a rush, isn’t it?” Ray tries to smile, but it hurts, and he holds his cheek. On cue, somebody brings them ice wrapped in plastic bags.

“Ugh, you pukes.” Trinette has enough. “Men are men are men!” She storms off.

“I hate makin’ her mad.” Ray puts the ice to his cheek.

“She has a point.” Cyril does the same. “We shouldn’t have done that. If Ms. Archer finds out we beat up her son…”

“It’s not the first time Archer’s had his ass kicked on resort grounds.” Ray says. “It’s like he asks for it.”

“I mean, yeah…” Cyril agrees. “Ray, despite that being a poor decision, that was… really cool.”

“Yeah?” Ray smirks the best he can.

“I didn’t know you could fight.” Cyril also has trouble smiling.

“More queers need to learn how.” Ray says. “I always have my guard up, Cyril. I gotta have eyes in the back of my head during the day and sleep with one eye open at night.”

“That’s so sad.” Cyril puts his hand on Ray’s knee. “I want to protect you.”

“You did just now.” Ray places his hand atop Cyril’s. “That was a good punch, Superman.”

“I’ve never done that in my life.” Cyril shakes his head. “I’ve been beat up plenty, but I never fought back. Maybe it’s because… I never had to protect someone else.”

“Aw, babe…” Ray scooches closer. “Say, ‘I want to protect you’ in Spanish for me.”

“Quiero protegerte.” Cyril croons, and Ray’s eyes roll in the back of his head like he had an orgasm.

“Say more things in Spanish, you sexy fucker.” Ray puts down his ice and sits in Cyril’s lap.

“Tú tienes el control total de mi corazón.” Cyril says in Ray’s ear, also losing the ice. “Quiero follarte todos los días del resto de mi vida.”

“Oh my God…” Ray kisses him hotly, until his jaw started hurting again. “Damn it.”

“Yeah, it hurts.” Cyril picks the ice up again. “We can’t be too sexy right now.”

“When we heal, I’m gonna kiss and fuck you senseless.” Ray whispers. “And you’re gonna speak Spanish the whole time.”

“I know German, too.” Cyril raises his eyebrows.

“No way.”

“Ich werde dich beschützen.” Cyril says.

“Sweet God…” Ray sighs hotly. “I won’t be able to stand up for another hour.” He’s content to just cuddle with Cyril while they nurse their injuries.

“Ich will nicht von deiner Seite weichen.” Cyril wraps his arm around his beautiful lover, kissing his temple gently. They relaxed and listened to the music, watching everybody dance.

Chapter Text

Dirty Dancing

Chapter 6

:::

Summer was almost over. It made Cyril anxious. He wanted to keep living in this dream with Ray forever. At the same time, he would be glad to not see Ms. Archer or Cheryl again. He’d been thinking a lot about his career moving forward, if he wanted to ever do white collar work again, or even if he still wanted to be an attorney. Ray said he would support any decision Cyril made. It turned out that they didn’t live too far from each other in the city. Cyril even mentioned moving in together, but Ray was scared and didn’t want to dump Trinette out on her own, which he understood. He even wondered how often he would see Lana. It wasn’t like he had custody of AJ, but he hoped that they could at least be friends.

AJ was rehearsing for the talent show while Lana and Cyril sat next to each other painting set pieces for it. Ray was around, too, talking to his dancers and making notes on a pad. Cyril and Ray would exchange looks from time to time, and hopefully, nobody noticed. Also in the room is famed Broadway director Ellis Crane, playing poker with his chums while his promiscuous wife Veronica Deane watches over the game, and over at Ray. Veronica saunters up to Ray, holding up a cigarette, and he begrudgingly lights it for her with his lighter. “We’ve been playing footsies all summer, handsome. Just because my husband’s here doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.”

“Veronica, I’m…”

“I’ve got it all worked out for us.” Veronica tugs on Ray’s shirt, giving him a look that said ‘come with me, or else’. Ray sighs and follows Veronica to her husband’s table.

“Ah, the famous dance instructor.” Mr. Crane has this dramatic way of speaking. “My lovely wife has become a dancer, thanks to you.”

“She’s a quick study, sir.” Ray nods, eyeing Veronica’s heated stare.

“I’m going to be playing cards with these philistines all weekend, so why don’t you give her some extra lessons? Here.” Mr. Crane hands Ray a big wad of cash. Ray stares at it kind of longingly before taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m all booked up because of the show. I won’t have time. I hope you understand.” Ray hands the money back to Mr. Crane, who nods in understanding. Veronica, on the other hand, is seething quietly, trying to kill Ray with her stare. Ray just walks away, getting back to his job. Cyril never saw how Ray has to deal with these women who refuse to accept that he’s gay, and if it hurts to see, he can’t even imagine how Ray feels.

:::

“Hello!” Cyril knocks on Ray’s door later that night. Ray opens it, and Cyril gasps when he sees that the side of Ray’s was red. “What happened, Ray?!”

“Veronica Deane decided to go Mildred Pierce on my ass.” Ray shuts the door when Cyril comes in. “She came and found me, claiming I ‘humiliated’ her in front of her husband.”

“Jeezy Peats…” Cyril gently cradles Ray’s face in his hands.

“It’s fine, it’ll go away in a few hours.” Ray takes his hands. “She’s crazier than I thought. She said that’ll I’ll never know love until I’ve experienced the ‘touch of a woman’.”

“Sounds like she doesn’t know what love is, herself.” Cyril says. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you go through.”

“You might start goin’ through it, if you were to… stick with me.” Ray gives Cyril this pitiful look.

“God, please don’t tell me you’re trying to break up with me.” Cyril grips Ray’s hands tightly.

“No, I’m not, I just…” He sighs. “I don’t get bisexuals. You can hide it. You can just pretend to be straight and no one would know, but… why would you choose all this pain and sufferin’?”

“It’s not pain and suffering to me, Ray.” Cyril assures him, kissing his hands, now. “What would be suffering is denying my feelings for you. I’ve been obsessed with you since the day I first saw you dance.”

“Oh, my adorable little puppy.” Ray brings Cyril in for a hug. “I’m obsessed with you, too.”

“Ray…” Cyril kisses him lovingly, once again lost in their own world, unaware of the plot unfolding under their noses.

:::

The next morning, Cyril has one last torturous breakfast with Ms. Archer, Cheryl, Lana and AJ. Malory and Cheryl just kind of invited themselves to sit with them. “Ugh, what a stressful morning.” Malory starts. “We had quite an early fiasco.”

“What happened?” Lana asks.

“Ellis Crane’s wallet was stolen.” Ms. Archer answers. “Veronica said she saw the dancer Ray looking suspicious yesterday around them.”

“What?!” Cyril says a little too loudly. “Y-You don’t actually believe that he would do something like that.”

“Why not?” Cheryl chimes in. “Poors will do anything for a little extra cash.”

“What time did Crane notice was wallet was missing?” Cyril did his very best to ignore Cheryl.

“5:30.” Malory says. “He said he last saw his wallet around 3.”

“Did you talk to Ray?” Cyril asks, knowing damn well where Ray was at 5:30. “Did you find the wallet on him?”

“No, but he could have easily disposed of it.” Malory shrugs. “And Ray’s only witness was himself; he said he was in his bungalow all night reading.”

“The bumpkin doesn’t have any books in his room.” Cheryl does that donkey laugh of hers.

“He didn’t say anything about…” Cyril was with Ray all evening, but Ray didn’t tell of their affair just so he could protect Cyril’s reputation.

“What is it, Cyril?” Malory asks. “You’ve been awfully defensive about some stranger.”

“He’s not a stranger to me.” Cyril sat up straight. “He didn’t take the wallet. Veronica’s pissed that Ray won’t sleep with her, so she must have set this up to get him fired.”

“You can’t just accuse someone like that, Cyril.” Lana says.

“No, but you all automatically take a Broadway star’s side over a ‘country bumpkin’s’.” Cyril argues. “Check her and her room before even thinking about firing Ray.”

“And how would you know what he was doing last night?” Cheryl asks.

“Because I was with him.” Cyril confesses, and everybody at the table goes quiet. “I was with him in his bungalow from 4 to about 5:30AM. Veronica must have seen me going inside. She confronted Ray before that, slapping him in the face because she felt jilted.”

“C-Cyril…” Lana is shocked.

“Ray and I have been together for most of the summer.” Cyril says with confidence. Cheryl sits there frozen, mouth full of food. AJ wonders what could be the big deal. And Malory is stone-faced as usual. “So, will you investigate Veronica?”

“I will.” Malory agrees.

“Good.” Cyril places his napkin on the table. “Excuse me.” He stands and leaves, done with the silent ridicule.

:::

Cyril hears a knock on his door later that day. He hoped it was Ray, but it turned out to be Lana and AJ. “Hey, Lana.” He says.

“Hey, could you watch AJ for me tonight?” Lana asks.

“Sure.” He lets AJ inside. “Did you hear anything about the, uh… situation from this morning?”

“No, but I could ask Archer if you want.” She checks her face with her compact.

“I do not want that, actually…” Cyril clears his throat. “Listen, Lana, I know it isn’t any of my business, but…”

“You’re right. It’s not.” She says shortly. “Just like it isn’t any of my business to know about your personal life, except now I do know, and I am incredibly surprised. It doesn’t bother me; I have no problems with queer people.”

“You seem a little bothered.” He says.

“We’ll talk later, okay? Right now, I’m late. And thanks for watching AJ.” She pats him on the shoulder before leaving. He sighs, closing the door and looking at AJ. “Wanna play chess?”

“Yeah.” She says, and he finds his board.

:::

About an hour passes, and Cyril hears another knock, this time it’s on his patio door. He looks to find Ray standing there, half-smiling and waving, looking good in sunglasses and a leather jacket with a cigarette in his mouth. Cyril smiles, getting up from the table and letting him in after he puts the cigarette out on the ground. “Are you okay? I looked for you, but…”

“I’m fine, Cyril.” Ray smiles, taking off his sunglasses and looking at AJ. “Are you gonna introduce me to this little lady?”

“Oh, right.” Cyril puts a hand on each of their shoulders. “Ray, this is Abbiejean Kane, aka AJ. AJ, this is Ray Gillette, the man we, uh… talked about at breakfast.”

“Oh, you’re the boy Uncle Cyril likes.” AJ says. “He really likes you. He’s been happy all summer.”

“Is that right?” Ray grins and Cyril blushes madly. “Well, I really like him, too, and I’m startin’ to like you.”

“Ms. Archer said that you’re a thief.” AJ says. “But Uncle Cyril says you aren’t.”

“Your Uncle Cyril is right.” Ray says, and Cyril gasps in excitement. “They found Mr. Crane’s wallet in Veronica’s drawer. I ain’t goin’ to jail.”

“Oh, Ray, that’s great!” Cyril smiles. “I knew she was setting you up, that…”

“I’m still fired, Cyril.” Ray interrupts.

“What?!” Cyril says. “Why?!”

“Because I still broke the rules and had a relationship with a guest.” Ray shakes his head. “I ain’t gettin’ my summer bonus, either.”

“Wha-…” Cyril tells AJ to wait inside while he and Ray go talk on the patio. “Oh God, Ray, this is all my fault! I shouldn’t have said anything!”

“Hey, are you kidding? You saved my ass. I was about to get arrested.” Ray tells him. “No one’s ever done anything like that for me.”

“This isn’t fair. She can’t do this to you!” Cyril says. “Guests and workers are constantly fornicating with each other!”

“It’s because I’m gay, Cyril.” Ray says the sad truth. “She doesn’t want rumors of a homosexual relationship ruining her business. Jury’s out on whether or not Ms. Archer’s homophobic or not, but the truth is that most people are, and she knows it.”

“Jury…” Cyril’s mind starts racing, remembering the trial. “She can’t fire you for this.”

“Cyril, didn’t you hear…”

“She legally can’t fire you for this reason.” Cyril says, a fire in his eyes. “This ‘rule’ of no sleeping with guests isn’t in the official employee contract. I know, I had to read it thirty times.”

“Cyril, are you suggesting that I go against her?” Ray asks incredulously. “Are you sayin’ I should sue her?!”

“I’m suggesting that WE sue her.” Cyril puts his hands on Ray’s shoulders. “With everything I have on her already…”

“Stop.” Ray puts his hands up. “Your bravery is turning into stupidity. Yet again, the big picture is lost on you! A fag from the Holler and a newly-minted member of the bourgeoisie can’t win against someone with all those connections and money.”

“We can.” Cyril assures him. “Justice is blind! She is breaking the law!”

“You are completely insane!” Ray moves out of Cyril’s grip. “In case you forgot, your hands are dirty with her case, too! You’d lose everything!”

“You’re worth the risk!” Cyril insists. “If I still have you at the end, then I wouldn’t have lost anything! I love you.” He says with his whole heart. “Don’t you get by now that I’d do anything for you?”

“…” Ray is speechless for a minute. His expressions go from shock, to amused, to anger, and then to curious. “You’re serious?”

“I love you, Ray.” Cyril needs to close the space between them, holding his face in his hands. “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my whole life.”

“Cyril… I love you, too.” Ray kisses him, overflowing with joy that he never knew he could feel. Cyril feels the same, deepening their kiss and pulling him closer still. He pulls away when he feels wetness on his cheek.

“Ray, you’re…”

“Oh, my God…” Ray is actually crying for the first time since he was ten. “Oh, you fucking asshole, look what you did!” He pulls out his handkerchief and dabs his eyes.

“Ray…” Cyril starts crying, too. They kiss and hug again, until they realized they were being watched.

“Uh, Cyril, we forgot about…” Ray pulls away and they awkwardly look at AJ, who’s just smiling and giggling at them through the glass door. “I hope she didn’t hear me say the F-word.”

“Two different F-words.” Cyril smiles at AJ. “Don’t worry, I’ll get to work right away.”

“Your confidence is just sexy enough to work, baby.” Ray says. “I’m in.”

“Alright.” Cyril gives him a quick kiss.

“I will be stayin’ until the summer’s over. Trinette wasn’t fired, and I’m her ride home. I need to go talk to her.”

“Okay.” Cyril nods and smiles. “Everything’s going to be okay, Ray, I promise.”

“I somehow believe you.” Ray says, waving goodbye to AJ before he walks off into the sunset. Cyril sighs lovingly before going back inside and sitting on the bed.

“I didn’t know boys could love other boys, before.” AJ says, sitting next to Cyril.

“They can.” Cyril explains. “It’s rare, but it does happen. Girls can love other girls, too.”

“That’s so cool.” She says so honestly. “But did you love mom that way, or does mom love Mr. Archer that way?”

“I did love your mother, AJ.” He says. “And I’ll always have a special place in my heart for her, but we didn’t work out. That happens, too. As for how she feels about Archer… I can’t speak for her. You’ll have to ask her.”

“Boy, adults are complicated.” She says honestly again, and Cyril can’t help but let out a hearty laugh.

“That is the truest statement I ever heard.” He smiles at her. Just then, they hear another knock at the door. Cyril opens it to find Lana a mess, her makeup ruined and eyes red. “Lana, what happened?”

“Mommy, are you okay?” AJ runs to hug her mother.

“Yes… Yes, honey, I’m fine. I’m not hurt.” Lana gives AJ their room key. “Will you wait for me in our room? I… want to talk to Cyril.” She looks at him.

“Okay.” AJ reluctantly agrees, heading right next door to their room. Cyril lets Lana come in.

“What happened?” He asks again, the two sitting on the bed.

“Archer…” Lana tries not to start crying again. “I went to his room and… he was in bed with Veronica Deane!”

“Jesus Christ.” He goes to get her some tissues. “I’m so sorry, Lana.”

“You tried to warn me, didn’t you?” She takes the tissues. “I… I kind of knew that he was, well… like that, but I ignored all of the signs. I’m so stupid.”

“Hey, no, don’t blame yourself.” Cyril says. “This is Archer’s fault. And I wish I warned you sooner.”

“I still wouldn’t have listened.” Lana jokes. “I even heard that he got one of the staff girls pregnant.”

“That was true.” He tells her. “Then, Ms. Archer paid some crackpot to give her a botched abortion.”

“Holy shit!” She gasps. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, Dr. Krieger helped her, actually.”

“Good.” She wipes her tears away. “Hey, why does it smell like cigarettes?”

“Oh, Ray was here.” He smiles. “Veronica Deane took her husband’s wallet to frame Ray, just like I thought.”

“What a bitch.” She says, and they laugh.

“Ms. Archer still fired him, though. I’m going to do something about that.” Cyril says. “I brought all the paperwork about the case I did for her, and I’m going to ruin her, and possibly ruin myself, too, but it’ll be worth it.”

“Wow, who are you?” Lana shakes her head. “Where did this confidence come from?”

“It’s… Ray.” He says. “He makes me feel so alive, and… sorry.” He doesn’t want to make her feel bad.

“It’s fine, Cyril.” She smiles. “We weren’t meant for each other like that. I knew it before you did. And now you finally get it, and I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you, Lana.” He smiles back. “I wouldn’t mind still being friends.”

“Of course.” She opens her arms. “Friend hug?”

“Friend hug.” He scoots over to hug her sweetly, feeling the tension of their relationship this past year release inside them.

:::

“Come in.” Malory sits in her office with a drink in hand, letting whoever was knocking at her door in. It was Cyril, and he had a small briefcase and an angry look in his eyes. “Cyril.”

“Ms. Archer.” He didn’t look it on the outside, but he was nervous: palms sweating, arms shaking and heart pounding. This woman was terrifying. “I hope you know why I’m here.”

“Is it for your lover?” Malory asks.

“It is for the unlawful termination of Raymond Gillette.” Cyril fixes his glasses.

“Oh, please, I can fire anyone for any reason.” She squawks. “Besides, he’s been a little thorn in my side for years.”

“A gay thorn that’s only ever worked hard for you.” He argues. “He’s even commended you for keeping him on after finding out that fact.”

“As long as he didn’t put it on display.” She says right back. “And now he has, with you of all people.”

“We have not done anything illegal.” He says. “You are not allowed to fire someone for a rule that’s not in the contract, and that you let other people get away with constantly, especially your own son.”

“You leave Sterling out of this!”

“He should have stayed out of Trinette, and Veronica, and my ex-wife, and God knows how many other women.” Cyril will not back down. “And speaking of Trinette, she’s fine now, no thanks to you.”

“I didn’t know the doctor I hired was a quack!” Malory stands. “I’m not that cruel.”

“Maybe not, but it still won’t look good in court.” Cyril opens his briefcase.

“You… You’re not honestly thinking of taking me to court over this!”

“This is a draft of my case against you, Ms. Archer.” He hands it to her. “Unless you rehire Ray, I’m filing it.”

“You’re crazy.” She’s flabbergasted. “You’ll go down with the ship, just to get justice for your gay lover?!”

“I will.” He sneers. “I’ll tell the world about how you lie, cheat and steal from your own company, and how you forced me to dig you out of your own shit. If I’m ruined, so be it.” He closes the briefcase. “But I swear, if you rehire Ray, I won’t take you to court, and forget this ever happened.” He turns to leave.

“Cyril…” Malory says, and he turns to face her again. “That confidence is… incredibly sexy.”

“You can thank Ray for it.” Cyril walks out of the office.

Chapter Text

Dirty Dancing

Chapter 7

:::

Cyril’s been hard at work all day in his room, going over papers, calculating numbers and typing on his typewriter. On one hand, it felt good to be working again, but on the other, well… he was slowly starting to panic. He really didn’t know which way this case could go. He’s seen people walk away from plenty of cases like this, but he’s also seen justice actually work. And hey, if he gets a sweet deal, he could quit law all together and become an accountant… if he doesn’t go to jail. He is scared, but it is worth it, for Ray… He hears a knock at his door. He gets up to open it, and is so glad to see his beautiful boyfriend there. He practically drags him into the room and embraces him, feeling like one of those rechargeable batteries as hugging him fills him with energy. “God, what a mess.” Ray looks around the room, the bed covered in papers and the typewriter at the table is surrounded by crumpled up balls of paper.

“Oh, uh…” Cyril goes to pick up all the files on the bed while Ray picked up a spreadsheet.

“Can you… actually read this?” Ray feels dumb looking at it.

“Yeah, it makes math a whole lot easier.” Cyril smiles. “I love technology.”

“I think I’ll just stick with what I know: smoking, dancing and fucking.” Ray jokes, handing the paper to Cyril.

“Hey, everybody’s smart about different things.” Cyril puts all the files in a stack on the table. “You are so smart, Ray. I learned a lot from you.”

“Yeah, like how to prepare an anus for a penis.”

“Not just that.” Cyril smirks. “You’re street-smart, Ray. You’re wise, and you have good instincts.”

“Instincts, huh?” Ray takes off his jacket and sunglasses. “My instincts are tellin’ me to do something crazy, like yours.”

“Oh yeah?” Cyril embraces him from behind. “What is it?”

“You know what, it’s a surprise.” Ray turns around, wrapping his arms around Cyril’s shoulders. “You’ll find out what it is on the last day.”

“Alright~.” Cyril sings, kissing his lover. They sway to the music on the radio.

She's like the wind through my tree
She rides the night, next to me
She leads me through moonlight
Only to burn me with the sun
She's taken my heart
But she doesn't know what she's done

Feel her breath in my face
Her body close to me
Can't look in her eyes
She's out of my league

Just a fool to believe
I have anything she needs
She's like the wind

“I love kissin’ you.” Ray whispers. “Love these beautiful lips, these dimples, this dwarfish nose…” He pinches it before taking off Cyril’s glasses. “And those puppy-dog eyes, oof… I love it all.”

“Even my greying hair, chubby cheeks and trout shoulders?” Cyril points out his insecurities.

“Did I fuckin’ stutter when I said I love it all?” Ray cups Cyril’s ‘chubby cheeks’ in his hands. “How many times do I gotta tell you you’re a sexy motherfucker?”

“Maybe one more time to get the point across.” Cyril was only joking, but Ray backs him up against the dresser.

“You. Are. A. Sexy. Mother. Fucker.” Ray emphasizes each word with a kiss and at the end, a hip grind.

“R-Ray~…” Cyril’s knees get weak and he clings to his lover who roughly undoes his tie and shirt and kisses his neck, mustache tickling him. “Nnn~…”

“You’ve been workin’ so hard for me, baby…” Ray says against his flesh. “Let me thank you.” He takes off Cyril’s shirt. “So what if your shoulders hang a little low?” He kisses them. “They and your arms are still strong enough to pick me up and fuck me against the wall.”

“Oooohh…” Cyril moans when Ray squeezes his pecs and pinches his nipples.

“Love these big tits.” Ray bites them as he drops to his knees to undo Cyril’s pants and pulling them all the way off. “And this big dick and this chunky ass.”

“Oh, Ray… fuck…” Cyril swears when Ray squeezes his ass and licks his cock like a Popsicle.

“Spread your legs, honey.” Ray finds his jacket and takes the lube from the pocket. “I’m gonna rock your sock garters off.” He lubes his fingers and puts one of Cyril’s legs over his shoulder. He finds his hole and slips one finger inside.

“Ooo~…” Cyril rolls his head back and grips the edge of the dresser. Ray uses his other hand to assist with sucking that huge cock. “Jeezy fucking Peats, Ray!”

“Mmmnnn~…” Ray pushes another finger inside Cyril and eating his cock like it was his last meal. That hot tongue swirling around the head and those pretty lips applying pressure and, oh here comes his special talent, opening his throat and letting Cyril slide down, but also…

“FUCK!!” Cyril screams when his prostate is also massaged, going crazy with too many sensations at once. He struggles to breathe, struggles to stand, struggles to look in sexy, light brown eyes that dare him to come right down his esophagus. “HHHNGGHH~!” He comes, biting his knuckles and trying not to move his hips so he doesn’t hurt Ray. Ray isn’t hurt at all, pulling away and taking his fingers out of Cyril’s entrance. “Oh my God~…” Cyril nearly falls over when Ray stands back up, but Ray holds him steady to kiss him again. “Mmm~…” His hands find fluffy blonde hair and comb through it.

“You get on that bed and get on your elbows and knees.” Ray commands.

“Yes, dear.” Cyril does what he’s told, eagerly climbing onto the bed wearing only his socks and garters. Ray finds this extremely hot. He takes off his own clothes and takes the lube with him to the bed, getting behind Cyril and lubing up his cock.

“Do you need more prep, baby?”

“No, I’m so ready.” Cyril pants, looking over his shoulder. “Fuck me, Ray.”

“Jesus, you’re so fuckin’ hot.” Ray kisses Cyril’s back as he rubs the head of his cock at his opening, gently breaching him.

“Ooohhh~…” Cyril moans, relaxing as much as he can to let Ray inside. Ray rubs Cyril’s shoulders as he presses his hips forward, only going about halfway to get him used to it.

“That’s my good puppy.” Ray leans down to lick the shell of Cyril’s ear. “You like bein’ called a puppy, don’t you? You like dirty talk?”

“God, yes, Ray!” Cyril squeezes around him for emphasis.

“Ooo, good boy~…” Ray thrusts in more until he was all the way in. They both gasp, with Cyril tightening around him again. “You feel so good, Cyril. Do you like feelin’ my cock in your ass?”

“Yyyeeessss~…” Cyril whines, pushing back against Ray.

“Ah-ah, bad puppy. You take what I give you.” Ray slowly fucks him, scratching his back and leaving welts in his wake. Cyril groans but doesn’t beg for more, going with Ray’s flow. “That’s good, honey. You like bein’ a good boy.”

“I-I do, but…”

“But?” Ray stops, keeping balls deep inside him.

“I like to be bad, too.” Cyril says in a deep, sexy voice, rearing himself back on Ray’s cock and squeezing him.

“Oh Cyril, I love that you’re a fast learner.” Ray slaps Cyril’s ass. “Come on, then, fuck yourself on me.”

“Yes, Ray!” Cyril takes his own pleasure, rocking himself back and forth on Ray’s dick. Ray doesn’t assist much, only lightly holding Cyril’s hips. This is so dirty, raunchy and hot. Ray loves watching Cyril lose himself, loves watching the well-groomed, nerdy, passing-for-straight lawyer grind his sexy ass back into him. “Oh fuck, Ray… I can’t… find my…”

“Here, come here, up.” Ray growls, pulling Cyril up so his back is flush against his chest, carving his hips to try and find Cyril’s prostate.

“AAAHHHH~!” Cyril screams when his prostate is hit, clutching at Ray’s hips.

“I got it for you, baby.” Ray bites down on Cyril’s shoulder as he fucks him mercilessly, hitting his prostate every time. Finally, he reaches down to jerk him off, wanting Cyril to feel overstimulated again.

“Oooohhh GOD, Ray!”

“Come for me, Cyril!”

“RRAAAYYYY!!” Cyril obeys instantly, coming so hard all over the bedspread.

“Cyrrriiilll…!” Ray comes inside him, hips moving erratically and holding onto Cyril for dear life. They kneel there for a long moment before they help each other under the covers.

“Oh, thank you, Ray.” Cyril kisses him. “I really needed that.”

“Apparently, I did, too.” Ray smiles. “Needed to see you turn into a power bottom.”

“See, I told you you taught me a lot.” Cyril grins. “But I mean it, Ray. You’ve given me confidence, and showed me the struggles of the world you live in. We’re different in a lot of ways, but being with you is still wonderful, and easy, like we just… fit together. I love you.”

“Oh, Cyril…” Ray cuddles close to him. “You’ll never know how much that means to me. I love you, too.” They kiss softly, cherishing the moment.

“I’m still curious about what you’re planning for the last day.” Cyril says. “You’re not going to burn everything to the ground, are you?”

“No, at least not literally.” Ray answers. “Just be ready with your dance pants, honey.”

“I will.” Cyril presses his forehead to Ray’s.

:::

The end-of-summer ceremony seemed never-ending. The staff’s little Alma Mater dragged on and on. Cyril sat with Lana and AJ, AJ complaining about how boring it was. Cyril supposed that without Ray the dancers wouldn’t even bother doing their last dance without him. He checked his watch and kept looking around for Ray, wondering what he was up to. Finally, he saw movement in the back of the hall, and it was all the dancers coming in with Trinette and Ray. Ray’s eyes find Cyril’s and they smile at each other, Ray walking right up to their table and holding out his hand. “You ready to get outta the corner, baby?” Ray asks.

“You bet.” Cyril stands and takes off his suit jacket that was hiding the lightest pink dance shirt.

“Cyril?” Lana wonders what they’re planning.

“Wait until you see what I’ve been doing all summer.” Cyril smiles at her and AJ before taking Ray’s hand, and they head right up to the stage, interrupting the annoying Alma Mater and surprising everyone, making them go quiet. Malory is off stage, eyes full of confusion and anger. Ray stands in front of the microphone, holding Cyril’s hand tightly.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Ray begins. “Y’all probably heard that I was let go, just for bein’ myself. But I always do the last dance of the season, and I figured since I’ve been fired, I can do the dance my way.” He snickers despite himself. “I’m no lawyer, but my partner here is.” He looks at Cyril. “He’s taught me that there are people willin’ to stand up for others, no matter what it cost them. And I wanna be like that, too. I want us to keep teachin’ each other, because… that’s what love is.” The audience gasps and whispers amongst themselves. “And he’s a hell of a dancer, Mr. Cyril Figgis.” Pam comes onstage and clears it for them, before putting the record in the player. “Just do the routine we’ve been workin’ on, the tango/rumba fusion.” Ray whispers to Cyril.

“Got it, Ray.” Cyril wipes a shed tear from his cheek, moved by Ray’s speech. They smile and nod to each other before Ray winks at Pam, and she drops the needle.

Now I've had the time of my life
No, I never felt like this before
Yes, I swear, it's the truth
And I owe it all to you
'Cause I've had the time of my life
And I owe it all to you

They stand face to face and walk closer together, getting into frame and touching cheeks. More gasps from the audience as Cyril dips Ray in a circle before bringing him back up and turning him around, picking up his arm and letting his hand roam down his face while Cyril’s hand gently touches Ray’s ribs. The audience has never seen two men dancing like this before. Sure, some were appalled, but most were intrigued.

I've been waiting for so long
Now I've finally found someone to stand by me
We saw the writing on the wall
As we felt this magical fantasy
Now with passion in our eyes
There's no way we could disguise it secretly
So we take each other's hand
'Cause we seem to understand the urgency

Cyril takes the lead, twirling Ray out and back in as they start moving together. It was similar to the Argentine tango they did before, but much more romantic and sensual, moving their hips together with hands more liberal to where they touched. Ray’s flexibility and style complements Cyril’s safe rigidness, keeping them steady and fluid.

Just remember
You're the one thing
I can't get enough of
So I'll tell you something
This could be love, because
I've had the time of my life
No, I never felt this way before
Yes, I swear, it's the truth
And I owe it all to you

Cyril lifts Ray and spins him around, Ray’s long legs pointed and poised as he was spun like a ballerina in a box. They smile at each other, doing a little grind like they were dirty dancing in the barn. Their choreographed dance comes to an end and Cyril kisses Ray’s hands, but Ray isn’t done, yet. Ray jumps off the stage and starts dancing down the aisle where his dance crew was waiting for him. Cyril laughs, sitting on the edge of the stage to watch him. Trinette dances by his side as they come back up the aisle, doing his cool Latin jazz walk. Ray beckons for Cyril and he hops off the stage. Ray runs up to him and jumps into his arms, shins on Cyril’s thighs as they do a sexy lambada shimmy before Ray rolls and backflips out of Cyril’s arms. The crowd actually cheers for them, and the dancers start pulling people up from their seats to dance along, the staff coming by to remove the chairs. Women dancing with men, men dancing with men, and women dancing with women, no longer restricted to the barn house. The band picks up where the record leaves off and everyone is having the best time… well, not everyone. Some people did leave, including Veronica Deane, but no one would miss her. Pam comes down from the stage and hugs the couple, congratulating them before pulling Ray away to dance with him. Ray accepts while Trinette dances with Cyril.

“I’m surprised you were okay with all of this.” Cyril says to her.

“Yeah, well, Ray was out and there’s no way I’ll come back to this Hellhole without him, so I thought, what do we have to lose?” She says.

“It went well. I mean, look at everyone.” Cyril looks around. “This is what the world should be like all the time.”

“Don’t we wish.” She says, watching Ray getting pummeled by Pam yet again. “Hey, Pam, it’s Cyril’s turn to be assaulted!”

“Oh no, Trinette…” Cyril playfully whines as Pam turns her attention to him, grunting like a pig in heat. “Oh, come here, Pam.” He gives in, wrapping his arms around her while she gyrates against him.

“Girl, you saved me.” Ray comes to dance with Trinette, now.

“You were in on this, too?” Cyril asks Pam.

“Yeah.” Pam answers. “I heard about everything that happened and gave Ms. Archer another earful. She watched you guys dance before taking this big breath and walking off.”

“Is she pissed?” Cyril asks.

“I’m not sure. She’s hard to read, sometimes.” Pam says. “I did what I could, guys. Hopefully I won’t get fired, too.”

“Oh honey, she can’t fire you.” Ray chimes in. “If she did, no one would come back to this cesspool, cuz everybody loves you.”

“It’s true.” Cyril agrees. “You’re the good cop to Ms. Archer’s bad cop.”

“Aw, shucks, fellas.” Pam blushes. “Oh, speak of the Devil…” They all follow Pam’s eye line and find Malory walking toward them. They stop dancing and face her. She stares at them for a moment before taking another deep breath and hands Ray a check.

“What?” Ray reads the check. It’s his summer bonus. “Ma’am…”

“I’m rehiring you.” Malory says. “I expect to see you and Trinette next year and I’ll give you raises. Just please, try to stay out of trouble, and don’t pull any surprises like this again!”

“Ma’am… thank you.” Ray is stunned. He nods to Trinette, making sure she’s okay with it. “We’ll… see you next year.”

“Good.” Malory stands up straight, hand itching to hold a glass of champagne. “You may continue this frivolity.” She turns to leave, but Cyril cuts in front of her.

“What caused you to change your mind?” Cyril asks.

“Honestly, I can’t afford another lawsuit.” She sighs. “And I’m too tired for one, as well. And I’m going to force my son to get a vasectomy, or maybe a complete emasculation.”

“Jeezy Peats, a vasectomy is fine.” Cyril says.

“You were very convincing, Cyril.” Malory says honestly. “I see big things in your future.”

“Thank you, but I think I’ll steer clear of white-collar crime from now on.”

“Such a shame.” She says. “You have the balls for it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m in desperate need of champagne.” He nods to her and watches her find the bar.

“May I have this dance?” Lana taps Cyril on the shoulder.

“Sure.” Cyril smiles at her.

“I wanna dance with Ray!” AJ says, running up to Ray who’s excited to see her and they jig together. Cyril takes Lana’s hand and they sway together.

“Who knew you could do that?” Lana says. “That was amazing, Cyril.”

“Thanks. Ray really brought out the dancer in me.” Cyril peeks over at him.

“The two of you are great together.” Lana smiles.

“I hate to ask, but…” He says. “Did Archer bother you anymore?”

“Ugh, yes.” She says. “He tried to apologize, but I didn’t accept it. He’s wallowing somewhere.”

“He screwed up.” He smirks. “I’m sure you were the best thing that ever happened to him.”

“Damn right.” She agrees, and they laugh. “Can I dance with Ray?”

“Of course.” They move back to Ray and AJ.

“Cyril, remember how we wanted to make you president?” Ray says. “Well, I think this girl should be your running mate.”

“Or maybe I could be president and you could be vice-president, Uncle Cyril.” AJ says.

“I think I like that idea way more.” Cyril takes AJ’s little hand. “Come on, Lana wants to dance with Ray.”

“Uh-oh…” Ray says. “I’m not in trouble, am I?”

“Not at all.” Lana smiles at him, the two coming together to dance. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”

“You, too.” He says. “You are stunning.”

“So are you.”

“Well, thank you.” They giggle.

“You better take care of him.” Lana looks at Cyril. “He really loves you.”

“I love him, too.” He gazes over at his lover. “You’re not gonna try and steal him back, are you?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I don’t love him like that. Our relationship, our marriage… it was rushed, and we were both kind of desperate. It’s over, now, and we’re just going to try being friends.”

“That’s alright by me.” He smiles. “British people do that, don’t they? They become friends with their exes.”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Well, it’s a good practice.” Ray says. “Alright, I’m gonna dip you now.”

“Oh, no noooo…!” She clutches Ray’s shoulders when he dips her, but she ends up laughing and enjoying it. He laughs, too, and they head back to Cyril and AJ. “Let’s let these two lovebirds dance, okay, honey?”

“Okay, let’s dance together, mommy!” AJ hugs her mother before they start dancing cutely together.

“Hey, you.” Ray smirks, beckoning Cyril with his finger.

“Hey.” Cyril comes to his lover, sensually sliding his body down and up his before they rock together again. “She treated you nicely, I hope.”

“Yeah, she told me to take care of you.”

“You already do.”

“Do I?” Ray questions. “I meant what I said onstage, that I want to be like you.”

“Really, because I want to be like you.” Cyril says. “I have an idea. Let’s be ourselves, but together. Does that make sense?”

“That makes so much sense.” Ray kisses him. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Cyril smiles big. The song is almost over, and they lip-sync to the last chorus.

'Cause I've had the time of my life (never felt this way, I had the time of my life)
And I've searched through every open door (you do it to me, baby)
'Til I found the truth (you do it to me, baby)
And I owe it all to you