Titus was fairly certain he was going to die. Of mortification.

Upon deciding that there was nothing more he could do for Titus’ appearance, Beau had placed a hand very carefully against the small of Titus’ back and ushered him toward the haunt. It had set off a round of catcalls from the people waiting in line to get inside, which Beau had answered with nothing more than a mysterious smile. The employee Beau had called in to spell him hadn’t even graced them with a first look, let alone a second, but still managed to mutter, “Nice work, Beau,” when he pulled the door open and held it for Titus to enter.

Even Titus could figure out that everyone had just assumed they were dating.

He wanted to scream at them that it wasn’t true. That Beau was just fucking with all of them. Or scream at Beau to cut the crap and stop taunting him. But the blush heating Titus’ cheeks seemed to also be stealing away his ability to speak.

It didn't matter that Titus was bi and Beau was hot. God was he hot. But this was neither the time nor place for that, Titus reminded himself. This was a missing teen he was supposed to be investigating! He was here for work, not pleasure, dammit! He needed to get his shit together like the 33 year old professional he was and stop fumbling all over himself like a horny teenager. 

Except for that damned distracting hand on his lower back, soaking warmth through his shirt like a miniature furnace. 

Okay, I can do this, Titus told himself. I just need to focus. Time to get it together and find out what Beau knows, and why he didn’t want me creeping around this particular haunt.

It was helped by the fact that Titus could feel a subtle tension in Beau’s fingers, like a current through a high voltage power line. Even since they’d entered the building, the Lyco was nervous and on edge. 

“Beau…”

“Not yet.” The retort was soft but sharp. “Let’s get some place quieter than the main floor. Just trust me for a few more minutes.”

What did that mean?

But Titus kept his mouth shut as Beau ushered him through the club proper. Even though he distinctly felt the flinch Beau gave as the noise of the crowd broke over them like a wave. It made Titus think that the Lyco was having trouble dealing with so much sound; their hearing did tend to be more sensitive, just like their sense of smell. A glance out of the corner of his eye gave Titus no clues, as Beau’s face was set in a careful mask that revealed nothing. If he hadn’t felt the tips of fingernails set against his skin through his shirt, Titus would never have thought anything was wrong just by looking at the other man.

The crowd inside swirled with activity. Titus could pick out several very illegal activities all taking place out in the open, which made the cop in him cringe. Nostu weren’t just feeding, but also allowing their saliva to be collected for injection. Illicit drugs were being dealt and taken. Sex workers were soliciting their wares and taking clients elsewhere to conduct business. Alcohol was being openly imbibed by underage Lycos and Nostu alike. A few haggard faces turned to watch them pass, but most people were so completely engaged in their own activities that everything around them went unnoticed. 

“Hey, Beau. Who’s this cute little snack?” Through the contact on his back, Titus felt Beau go rigid for an instant. It was enough to cause sweat to bead on his spine. Especially when Beau swore under his breath right into Titus’ ear the next moment.

“Domingo.” Titus picked out a growl in the Lyco’s reply as a scrawny Latino man emerged from the crowd, his pale pallor marking him as a Nostu while his lilting speech pinged him hard on Titus’ gaydar. “Hands off this one, or I swear to God…” The threat was left dangling.

“What's this? Are you staking a claim?” Domingo laughed, high and reedy, which sent a disconcerting shiver up Titus’ back. “Not even going to share with your boss in his own establishment? I’d let you have him after I took just a nibble.”

Titus felt more than heard the snarl that rumbled out of Beau. He watched as Domingo’s eyes went round as saucers and the Latino Nostu held up his hands defensively, the deceptively pleasant smile he’d been wearing replaced in an instant with a flash of real fear.

“Hands off, Domingo,” Beau ground out. “You don’t want to mess with this one. He comes to harm and it’ll be more than just me you gotta worry about. The cuffs in his pocket ain’t for play. Pretty sure not even your contacts in the main office can cover that big a fuck up.” 

“Okay, okay. Message received, darling! Don’t get your titties twisted.” Though Domingo was trying to play the incident off as a joke, Titus could pick out a quaver in his voice. That hadn’t been an idle threat and all three of them knew it. 

“Good.” Titus could feel as Beau’s anxiety settled back down to a low simmer instead of a rolling boil. “Where’s Danni?”

“With a client, darling. They’re using playroom three.” A limp wristed wave brushed off Beau’s question as inconsequential. 

Beau was silent for a moment, clearly considering something. “I’ll borrow their office, then,” he finally replied. “Have someone bring us drinks. My usual. What are you having?”

It took Titus a moment to understand Beau had been addressing him with the question. “Oh! Uh…old fashioned, neat?”

“Your friend has good taste, darling,” Domingo replied smoothly. “You should let your hair down sometime. Never know; you might enjoy it.”

“Yeah, that won’t be happening,” came the curt reply.

“Mmm. Suit yourself. I’ll take care of it, darling. Enjoy yourselves!” 

Titus felt a gentle pressure on his back as Domingo swirled once more into the press of the crowd. “Head toward the sign that says ‘Invitation Only’. It'll take us downstairs. I’ll be right behind you, in case we run into more trouble of a similar vein.”

“Was that a Nostu joke?” Titus asked, even as he allowed himself to be herded toward the indicated sign.

“If you have to ask, then yes.” The smirk was back in Beau’s voice, like the incident with Domingo had never happened. Titus felt the emotional whiplash acutely; Beau swung between dispositions faster than anyone Titus had previously encountered. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

The ambient noise dropped markedly once they had descended into the basement level of the establishment. Titus barely caught the sigh of relief Beau huffed out, though the relaxing of his hand was really enough of a clue for Titus to understand that all the external stimuli had been starting to overwhelm the Lyco. He almost commented on it. But remembering Beau’s recent tension kept the words locked up tight. It wouldn’t do to aggravate the other man right now, since he’d barely started to relax. Besides, he’d said something about an office. Titus presumed they were heading for some place where they could safely talk, away from prying ears.

The door Beau directed them to was decidedly not an office door, however. It was coated in chalkboard paint, first of all. The name “Danni” was emblazoned across it in flowing cursive script with what appeared to be hot pink glitter glue. Colorful images of whips, handcuffs, and dildos were drawn around the name in lurid detail with chalk. And much to Titus’ horror, Beau picked up a stick of chalk from a tray mounted to the nearby wall with double sided foam tape and drew a big green penis just below the letters. 

“You wanna add somethin’?” Beau was grinning as he offered the chalk to Titus.

Words failed Titus yet again, leaving him to numbly shake his head in reply. 

“Suit yourself.” Beau replaced the chalk, dusted off his hands, and then grabbed the knob to twist it open. “Danni won’t care. Hell, they’d think it was hilarious that a cop drew somethin’ on their door. Their sense of humor is more twisted than mine.”

“I’m good,” Titus replied weakly, flushing deep red as he passed the graphic drawings.

Not that the interior of the room made him any more comfortable. Titus realized that this so-called office was more boudoir than anything else. The only thing “office” about it was a desk and executive’s chair on one side, and everything on it appeared to be items that wouldn’t break if swept to the floor in a hurry. Other items of decor were an actual queen size bed and a sturdy cafe table with two chairs, but no dishes in sight. Titus made a point of not studying anything in the bookcase too closely, because the briefest of glances told him there wasn’t a single book.

“I reckon we got about half an hour to talk while Danni’s with their client,” Beau was saying as he shut the door behind them, though Titus was still too busy swallowing down his embarrassment at finding himself inside the room of what clearly appeared to be a sex worker to pay much more attention than that. 

“What kind of haunt is this?” he asked instead, his voice very much weak.

“One you probably shouldn’t be in. But I’m guessing you’ve figgered that out by now, so I’ll spare you any more of the cliche.” Beau proceeded to make himself right at home, flopping into the desk chair with clear ease. “How’s about I instead tell you that it’s a damn good thing you didn’t show up on a night I wasn’t here. Domingo wouldn’t have let you alone otherwise.”

“Yeah, I got that impression.” Titus gave an involuntary cringe, and tried to cover it up by dragging one of the cafe chairs over to sit opposite Beau at the desk. “He was definitely…interesting.”

Beau snorted. “Domingo doesn’t know how to open his damn fool mouth without sexually harassing someone.”

That almost got a smile out of Titus. “It seemed like he’s your boss here?”

“Oh, hell naw! That little twink just manages the place. My boss is also his boss. Domingo, for all his inappropriate mouth, runs this place like a well oiled machine. Which is the only reason he still has a job here, honestly. But that’s just between you, me, and the walls.” Beau leaned back in the chair and kicked his feet up onto the desktop, folding his hands across his stomach. “He just needs a reminder every now and again that I ain’t his employee. And that I ain’t interested in lettin’ him bite me. Got enough problem with addiction in my family; don’t need another Simp junkie. Or, God forbid, an alcoholic.”

Titus took all of that in silently. It was far more information that Beau had previously volunteered about himself and Titus wasn’t willing to stop him if he was opening up even a little.

“So,” Beau continued after a moment, “as you can probably tell, Vital Signs ain’t a typical place. Kinda why I tried to warn you away. It’s a haunt, sure; biggest haunt in the county. But it’s also a safe place for the Nostu and Lyco communities. Plus a gay bar, a needle exchange and safe injection site, a brothel, and a few other things that aren’t quite as legal. We serve a hell of a lot of disenfranchised and otherwise downtrodden folks. The local boys in blue get paid real well to overlook all our indiscretions. And in return, we keep the underserved minorities just a little safer by giving them a place where they can come to scratch their various itches without fear of reprisal.”

“That’s why you asked if I was here in an official capacity,” Titus realized.

Beau nodded. “Yep. Didn’t need the patrons to know there was a cop sniffin’ around. Woulda caused some panic. And while I get that you have a bit of a moral quandary at the moment, I took a chance on you because I already pegged you as the sort that wouldn’t rush into a decision we’d all regret.”

Well. That was an interesting admission. Beau Black trusted him to keep his mouth shut and not go full cop on this place? Maybe he wasn't making as bad an impression as he'd initially thought.