I should be facing the other way, Andrew thought as he straightened his legs to a perfect vertical. Then I could see if anyone plans to catch me.

He considered putting his feet down so he could turn around, but that would ruin the effect. The crowd had caught Colin, and they would catch Andrew. He had to believe that.

He held the handstand for two seconds…three…four…five…hearing the screams and music rise in volume. Then he flexed his arms and pushed.

The world went suddenly silent.

As he tipped over, Andrew snapped his body to bring himself into a flip. The warehouse spun around him, disorienting in its darkness. Against all his diving instincts, he spread his arms and legs, letting himself go limp. Now it was up to the masses—either they would catch him, or he would die.

The landing was softer than water, yet still the air rushed from his lungs. His glasses flew from his nose and disappeared into the sea of bodies.

Sound crashed into his ears all at once—cheers, music, laughter. As the arms lifted him high in a flying position once again, Andrew felt connected to everything and everybody.

He had lived. He had won.

As his feet were lowered to the floor, a familiar voice shrieked his name. Then Colin was there, grabbing his shoulders, face white with fear.

“Andrew, you did it! You did it!” He shook him hard. “Why did you do it?”

“I had to. Why did you do it?”

“I’ve done it a million times. But never again, I swear.” Colin pulled him into a desperate hug. “God, I thought you were gonnae die. I’m so sorry. I didnae think you’d actually jump.”

“Of course I jumped. I was captain of the diving squad at Fettes.” But you didn’t know that when you left me up there, you mad bastard.

He wanted to kill Colin for making him risk his life, but also thank him for making him feel more alive than ever. Lacking the strength to do either, Andrew simply clutched him, feeling their chests heave together.

As they let go, they were mobbed by the crowd, patting their backs and taking their picture. Andrew put a hand to his face, remembering what was missing. “My glasses.”

“Gonnae no worry,” Colin said, leaning close. “You look nothing like a lord just now.”

Andrew tried to say, “I’m not a real lord, it’s just a courtesy title,” but the words were lost in a wave of maniacal laughter. Colin started cackling too, a high-pitched hysteria that fed Andrew’s own.

“All right, mates, show’s over.” The DJ’s voice crackled from the speakers. “Youse are here to dance, right? This is a rave, not Cirque du Fuckin’ Soleil.”

The song’s melody shifted then, distracting the crowd, who finally parted for Colin and Andrew.

After two steps toward the makeshift bar at the side of the warehouse, Andrew’s legs turned to water. He stumbled into Colin, who looped a supportive arm around his waist.

“All right?” he asked Andrew.

“I’ll be fine. If we could possibly sit.”

“There’s nae seats here.”

“Floor will do nicely.”

Colin helped him stumble to an empty space not far from the bar, where they sank down against another dusty storage container. Andrew’s brain swooped as though he were still airborne.

“That was amazing!” Katie said as she and Danielle rushed toward them. The two girls dropped to their knees before Andrew and began mock-bowing.

“You could’ve both died,” boomed Liam’s voice. The strapping ginger towered over them, arms crossed. Beside him, Robert matched his disapproving pose. Siobhan lurked in the background, pale and frightened, looking even more faint than Andrew felt.

“What if you’d hurt your knee?” Robert asked Colin. “When Charlotte finds out, you’ll be off the team.”

Andrew felt a pinch of regret. Though he’d never met the Warriors manager, he’d heard stories of Charlotte Atchison’s ruthless demand for player discipline.

“How will she find out?” Colin lifted his arms. “Naebody uploads pictures at raves. It’s a rule. It’s how we stay secret.”

“They’ll make an exception for Tom Daley here.” Liam pointed to Andrew, who felt amused at the comparison to the champion British diver. He’d have to ring Tom tomorrow and tell him. “Everybody was taking pictures and videos. By now they’re probably all up on Twitter and Instagram, conveniently geotagged so the police can find us.”

“No, Colin’s right,” Danielle said. “People know to wait until they’re home to upload rave pics. They’re not stupid.”

Liam sighed. “More than I can say for these two.”

“Aw, get tae fuck,” Colin said, “and gonnae gies a drink while you’re at it?”

“Get it yourself!”

“I would, but I cannae walk the now.” Colin elbowed Andrew. “How about you, mate?”

Andrew gazed at him. “I may never walk again.”

This started them laughing like hyenas. Andrew’s adrenaline was beginning to ebb, leaving behind a delirium higher than any he’d ever felt from drink or drugs.

When he could finally open his teary eyes, he saw the others had headed to the bar, all but Katie and Siobhan, who were standing several feet away. Katie was hugging her girlfriend, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

“I don’t think Siobhan enjoyed our dives,” Colin said. “Heard she’s got a massive fear of heights.” He pressed his thigh against Andrew’s, aligning the rips in their jeans. “You completely outdid me, but I don’t care. That was amazing.”

The hunger in his gaze stoked Andrew’s own. He started to reach for Colin, then realized his own hands were shaking. “My God, look at that.”

Colin took one of Andrew’s hands and rubbed it between his own. “Your skin’s fucking Baltic, mate.”

Andrew started shivering, despite the warehouse’s oppressive heat. “This happened after I bungee-jumped in New Zealand. The drop was something like”—he swallowed, his throat going dry—“I don’t know, five hundred meters.”

“You fell half a kilometer? Off of what?”

“A bridge. It was…” He gazed at the edge of the storage container from which they’d just plummeted. “Not as thrilling as this.”

Colin began to laugh again, this time a deep, burbling delight. He tugged Andrew’s hand to press it against his chest. It was still heaving, and so, so warm.

God, I need you, Andrew thought. I need you now, while we’re still insane. He tucked his fingertips inside the collar of Colin’s ragged black T-shirt. “Come home with me.”

Colin’s head jerked back, and his eyes turned guarded again. “I cannae leave my mates. We come together, we leave together. That’s how we all stay safe.”

“You think I’ll hurt you?”

“No,” Colin said, too quickly to be believable. “But you’ll keep me up late. I’ve my first full practice session tomorrow with the Warriors.” He started rubbing his left arm, over the unicorn tattoo. “If I’m not at my best, Charlotte’ll think my knee’s worse than it is, and then it’ll set everything back, and I might not start the first match. I need to start, I need—”

“Okay. Okay.” Andrew pressed a finger to Colin’s lips. “We don’t have to go back to my flat.” It was a foolish idea, anyway, bringing home someone he barely knew. Too bad the hotels were chockablock with Commonwealth Games fans. “Perhaps we can find a place here to be alone.” He edged closer and put his mouth to Colin’s ear. “Long enough for me to suck you until you come down my throat.”

“Och.” Colin leapt to his feet. Andrew watched him stride up to Katie and take her aside for a quick conference. She laughed at first, but then her face turned aghast. Then she shook her head, backing away. Colin pressed forward, cajoling.

When he pointed to his knee, her shoulders finally slumped in defeat. With a quick word to Siobhan, Katie and Colin beckoned Andrew to follow.

The three of them left the dance floor area and hurried toward the back of the warehouse, using their phones to light the way. Rows of storage containers formed narrow streets and narrower alleys, like a dystopian abandoned city. Passing small culs-de-sac, Andrew could hear noises of substance abuse and sex. One unfortunate couple was far too quiet, discovered only when he shone his light down the slim passage.

“Fuck off!” the guy yelled, squinting into the beam, holding his bleary-eyed date’s skirt above her waist.

“Dreadfully sorry.” Andrew moved on, continuing the search.

Finally near the back entrance to the warehouse, they found a suitable alcove, between two towering metal storage containers emblazoned in Cyrillic with the name of a Russian company. Deliciously sordid, just the way Andrew liked it.

“I’ll keep watch over there, and I’ll yell if someone’s coming.” Katie scowled. “If someone else is coming.” As she walked away, she said over her shoulder, “I like you, Lord Andrew, but you are not good for him.”

I’m not good for anybody, he thought as he turned to Colin, who smirked and stepped back into the darkness.

They found each other there, and clung, mouths locked in ferocious, famished kisses that sent earthquakes through Andrew’s body. As the techno music pounded around them, Colin’s strong hands crawled over Andrew’s back, then descended to cup his arse. Andrew ground against him, finding a long, thick hardness that matched his own.

“I want to fuck you.” Colin gripped Andrew harder, lifting him onto his toes. “I won’t, but I want to.”

“Me too. Maybe next time.”

Colin let go of him with a scoff. “Aye, right, next time. I’ll never see you again after tonight.”

Andrew wanted to protest, but it was true. On the whole, Colin’s friends weren’t fans of Andrew, and he hated to think what his own mates would say about a lad who lived on benefits and studied at GCU. Commoners were acceptable only if they were rich or famous—if they gave to food banks, not took from them.

This was their last moment, and Andrew intended to make the most of it.

He dropped to his knees and undid Colin’s belt, button, and zipper, using only his hands to see in the pitch blackness. What they found made his mouth water.

“Och…” Colin pushed his jeans and underwear over his hips. With one hand, Andrew pulled them down to his ankles, past the knee brace’s coarse material. His other hand stayed where it was, beginning with slow, confident strokes.

He wanted to tease, wanted to bring Colin to the edge a thousand times so that his eventual orgasm would leave him a gibbering fool who would forever measure every blowjob against this one. But there was no time for teasing. It had to be quick.

That didn’t mean it couldn’t be good.

Steadying Colin’s cock with one hand, Andrew wrapped his lips around the base of the shaft and used his other hand to cup Colin’s balls. When Colin sighed in appreciation, Andrew moved down instead of up, dancing the tip of his tongue across the rough surface, finally drawing one thick sac into his mouth.

“Fuck.” Colin shifted his weight, and there was the sound of nails scrabbling against metal as he searched for something to grasp. “That’s…oh God.”

Andrew moaned, sending vibrations against Colin’s most sensitive territory. There was an answering whimper from above.

Yes, you’re mine now. He was taking back the power Colin had stolen when he’d leapt off the edge of that storage container. The power that rightfully belonged to Andrew.

As he savored the delicacy in his mouth, giving it every edge of his tongue, he continued to stroke Colin’s cock, slowly shifting its sheath up and down, feeling it stiffen further in his grasp. He ran his other hand over Colin’s taut, muscular thigh, imagining how it would feel between his own legs, nudging them apart, how it would strain and flex with each deep, quick thrust.

Andrew’s own prick rebelled at the confines of his jeans, and though he usually showed more restraint in this situation, he couldn’t help reaching down to stroke himself. The slightest touch was torture, so he quickly undid his jeans to reach his throbbing erection.

“Yeah,” Colin whispered at the sound of Andrew’s belt. “Touch yourself. I want to feel your mouth on me when you come. I want to feel it get as tight and hot as your arse.”

My God, this lad…How could one encounter ever be enough?

Releasing Colin’s ball with a soft pop, Andrew straightened up and angled the head of Colin’s cock against his mouth. Then he swept his tongue over his lips, making them soaking wet before moving forward to slide Colin inside.

“Christ…” Colin slapped his hand against the storage container to Andrew’s left, making a hollow clang.

Andrew put his tongue to work, sliding side to side over the ridge of Colin’s head. Both hands continued their steady stroking, one on Colin and one on himself.

Colin’s hips began to rock, easing his cock in and out of Andrew’s mouth. Andrew imagined it stroking him inside, the bulging head passing over the nub of his prostate again and again. He imagined those pale-green eyes skewering his own, those tattooed arms lifting his legs up and apart, so high and so far that he’d be left helpless, with nothing to do but soar over the edge.

Feeling pressure build at the base of his own shaft, Andrew pumped harder and faster. His mouth moved quicker too, gulping every inch. He drew in air around his tongue to make it wrap and vibrate around Colin’s cock.

“Aye,” Colin cried, “just like that. More. Oh God…” He doubled over, and his whole body began to tremble as his knees buckled.

Andrew groaned as he felt himself near the point of no return. So close, so close. He had to win this race. So close, so—

A metallic bang sounded behind him. Andrew froze, hoping something had fallen, that the noise had not been that of the warehouse’s back door slamming open.

“Shit!” Katie’s strident American voice rang out. “Police! It’s a raid!”

A bright white light shone into their tiny corridor. Colin jerked back as if to turn and run. From here on his knees, Andrew could see there was no way out but the way they entered.

“Oh, lads,” said a gruff voice behind Andrew. “Sometimes you make our jobs too easy.”