Angel and the Assassin

himself, and the boy needed it after the
    punishment he had got that afternoon.
    “Come on, boy, finish getting dressed. We‟ll go out for a walk.”
    The streets were shiny wet, but it was no longer raining as they walked over
    Lambeth Bridge. Angel took Kael‟s hand as though it was the only thing to do,
    apparently not caring who saw and what anybody thought.
    From the day Kael came out to his mum, he had answered everyone who asked
    him if he had a girlfriend by saying, “ I’m gay, but I don’t have a boyfriend right
    now .” He had sex, just not boyfriends. It was the display of affection that terrified

    60
    Fyn Alexander

    him. Holding Angel in the park when the boy had been distressed was very different
    from walking down the street like an ordinary couple, holding hands.
    “Sir, could we go to a leather bar?” Angel looked up at him hopefully.
    “A real leather bar would never let you in,” Kael said.
    “Why not? I‟m dressed for it. So are you.” Angel was in leather from head to
    foot, including his leather cap, which Kael had insisted he wear to hide his easily
    identifiable blond head. Kael had worn leather trousers and a leather jacket, mostly
    to keep out the damp.
    “It doesn‟t matter. You don‟t look the part. You look too young and too much
    like a novice. Too pretty. You have a lot to learn yet and a lot of growing to do.”
    Angel sighed heavily. “Tell you what,” Kael said, “I‟ll take you to Roughnecks.
    They‟re not too fussy about dress codes and posture at the best of times, but in the
    middle of the week, it‟s never a problem.”
    Angel leaped a foot off the ground and punched the air. “Thank you!”
    Kael laughed at his enthusiasm. “Come on, boy. A lot of younger men go there.
    It‟s the place most likely to let in someone who looks like he‟s only sixteen and
    doesn‟t have a buzz cut.” Under other circumstances he would use Angel‟s passport
    for ID, but that was impossible when he didn‟t want anyone to know who he was.
    “Where is it, Daddy?”
    “It‟s in Voho.”
    “Soho? I‟ve heard of that.”
    “Voho. It‟s short for Vauxhall. The best gay nightlife is in Voho.”
    The lineup outside Roughnecks wasn‟t too bad in the middle of the week. Kael
    looked about at the twentysomethings in their leathers—some were even in jeans
    and trainers—and felt old and slightly out of place, but Angel was grinning from ear
    to ear, he was so excited.
    Suddenly unsettled, Kael scanned the street but saw nothing out of the
    ordinary.
    “How old‟s the twink?” the bouncer, who was smaller than Kael, asked when
    they got to the front of the line.
    “I‟m not a twink,” Angel said.
    Kael put his hand on Angel‟s shoulder. “Shut up.” He wanted to give the boy a
    bit of fun without drawing attention to them. “He‟s twenty.”
    “Got any identification, mate?” The bouncer ignored Angel and spoke to Kael,
    who used his killer smile.
    “I‟m thirty-two; I promise.”
    The bouncer looked him up and down with a grin, stopping to look pointedly at
    his crotch. “I meant your boy, obviously.” They exchanged an intimate look. The
    bloke didn‟t appeal to Kael at all, but he didn‟t want Angel to be disappointed, so he
    played along.

    Angel and the Assassin
    61

    “You know me. I‟ve been here before.”
    The bouncer squinted at him. “That‟s right; I remember you. Stephen Conran,
    right?”
    “That‟s me.” Kael pulled a £5 note out of his wallet and stuffed it into the
    bouncer‟s hand. “He‟s twenty. You‟ll have to take my word for it.”
    The bouncer pocketed the money. “All right, in you go.”
    Young men in leather, mostly dressed for the look rather than the lifestyle,
    littered the place. The music was so loud the walls shook, which Kael found very
    irritating. The lighting was low except directly on the dance floor, where the
    flashing halogens he hated so much made the dancers look like they were all doing
    the monster mash. The place did not smell like a leather bar either, at least not the
    kind he liked. When Kael went to a bar, he went for the booze and the sex. He liked
    to smell sweat, beer, and leather, no aftershave and no fancy soaps.
    With Angel on his heels, he strode directly for the bar. Standing taller than
    everyone else, he made easy eye contact with the barman and got served right
    away. He ordered a whisky and two beers. He drank the whisky in one mouthful
    and handed one of the beers to Angel,