Chapter Twenty-seven

Darien

In the morning, Darien and Baran returned home from the hotel, took a shower together, then went to the shelter. They made their way into Darien’s office.

Darien adjusted the paperwork on the small worn table in the shelter’s cramped office. Baran leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed but eyes watchful, letting Darien take the lead as usual.

“Bring a chair and sit with me.”

Baran carried the chair and sat beside Darien.

They only had three spots left in the shelter, and Darien didn’t take the responsibility of the interviews to come lightly. Darien wanted to show Baran the ins and outs of interviewing new men who needed shelter.

The first applicant shuffled into the room, shoulders hunched. His name was Sam, a wiry man in his late twenties with shaggy brown hair and a nervous energy. He sat down, fidgeting with the fraying edge of his jacket.

“Tell me about yourself, Sam,” Darien began, his tone calm but probing.

“I…I’ve been on the streets for about six months now,” Sam replied, voice shaky. “I lost my job, and then my apartment. Couldn’t keep up with anything after that.” He hesitated, glancing at Darien nervously. “I heard about your shelter from someone. They said, uh, you’re a safe place for guys like me.”

Darien nodded slowly. “Guys like you?”

Sam exhaled sharply, his hands clenching on his knees. “Gay guys,” he whispered, as if the words might crumble in his mouth. “I’ve had trouble at other shelters. You know, people aren’t always…understanding.”

Darien studied him for a moment, reading the authenticity in his discomfort. “What kind of work did you do before?” he asked, steering the conversation gently away from those bad memories.

“Retail. Stocking shelves mostly,” Sam answered quickly. “I’m willing to do anything, though. I just need a chance.”

After a few more questions, Darien nodded, writing something on his notepad. “You’ll have a bed here tonight,” he said, and Sam’s face lit up with relief.

The second applicant was a younger man, maybe twenty-one or twenty-two, with dyed pink hair and a confident swagger. He introduced himself as Malik, his voice carrying a sharp edge as he talked about his struggles.

“Been couch-surfing mostly,” Malik said, sprawling casually in the chair. “That ran out, though. My friends aren’t exactly the reliable type. I saw your flyer and thought, why not?”

“What brought you here specifically?” Darien asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Malik’s lips curved into a smirk. “You mean, am I gay?” he asked bluntly. “Yeah, I am. Not everyone’s thrilled about it, but hey, their problem, not mine.”

Darien smiled at the honesty. Malik’s bravado was clearly a shield, but it rang true. “What’s your plan if we accept you?”

Malik shrugged, but his eyes softened. “Get a job. Maybe go back to school. I just need a place to stop running for a while, you know?”

Darien nodded again, jotting down a note. “Alright. We’ll make room for you.”

The third applicant walked in with an air of unease. His name was Larry, a man in his thirties with a scruffy beard and calloused hands that hinted at a history of manual labor.

“Why do you want to stay here, Larry?” Darien asked, skipping past the pleasantries.

“I heard you help people down on their luck,” Larry said gruffly. “I just need a roof over my head for a bit. Got laid off a few months ago. Been trying to find work, but it’s hard without an address.”

Darien glanced at Baran briefly before returning to Larry. “You know this is a space specifically for gay individuals, right?”

Larry hesitated, shifting in his seat. “Yeah, I know,” he said carefully. “Look, I don’t wanna lie to you. I’m not…gay. But I’m not looking for trouble either. I just need help.”

Darien leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I appreciate your honesty, Larry, but this shelter has a specific purpose. There are other places that might be able to help you.” He handed Larry some pamphlets on other shelters in the area.

Larry’s face tightened, and he nodded stiffly, standing up. “Thanks anyway,” he muttered before leaving.

When the door closed behind him, Darien exhaled, rubbing his temples. “It never gets easier,” he mumbled.

Baran finally spoke, his voice low but steady. “You did the right thing. We’ve got to protect the space.”

Darien nodded, though the weight in his chest lingered. “Let’s get Sam and Malik settled in.” He showed him the map of the rooms and occupants.

They walked the two men to their room and showed them which bunk would be theirs. Darien took a picture of each and put them on the board in their room. Once they were settled in, Darien and Baran walked back to his office and they each took a seat.

“What do you think of the interviews as your new job?”

“I love it, but the part of saying no will kill me.”

“Yes, it really does. Sometimes, I go home and think about the ones I had to turn away. We’re building a large temporary room with twenty beds for gay men who are waiting for a permanent shelter or a room with us when there is an opening. If we can’t fit them for longer, they can go in there until we have a spot or we can find them another shelter.”

“When will it be done?”

“Christmas Eve. Follow me and I’ll show you the room.

Darien led Baran through the familiar halls of Rainbow Haven, his excitement clear in his quick stride. When they reached the new addition, he pushed the door open, revealing the room he’d worked so hard to complete.

The space was expansive yet cozy, painted in a soft, tranquil shade of blue that reminded Darien of a clear spring sky. Two neat rows of bunk beds filled the room, ten on each side, their metal frames gleaming under the warm overhead lights. Each bed was made up with crisp white sheets and had thick blankets in shades of gray and navy carefully folded at the foot of the mattresses.

The air smelled faintly of fresh paint and new linens, and Darien couldn’t help but feel pride as he watched Baran take it all in. The beds, the warmth of the room, the care in its design—everything was meant to give a sense of safety and belonging to those who would stay here.

“This room is breathtaking. I mean, it’s perfect, especially in the winter. Did you design this?” Baran asked.

“Yes, I did. Most of it was financed by our generous donors.”

“You do so much good for the gay community.”

“Thank you for saying that.”

“So many come in broken from the abuse on the outside, besides needing a roof over their head.”

Darien’s phone buzzed.

“That reminds me! I need to call Mr. Fletcher. He left me a message to call about the scholarship.”

“Wow! That’s great news,” Darien replied then read his message.

Benjamin Moore: Call me ASAP .

He wondered what was so important that his father would message him. He must have an issue with something he had done or said.

“I need to make a personal call. I’m going to my office. Miss Archer’s old office is now your office, so call Mr. Fletcher in there.”

They went to their respective offices. As soon as Darien entered his office, he pulled a bottle of water from the mini refrigerator and took it to his desk. He sat down, pulled out his phone, then punched in his father’s number.

“Darien, what the hell is going on?” his father asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re fucking around with one of our top donors.” His father had turned over the business to him, but he closely monitored what he was doing. The only time his father had something to say was when he had disapproved of an action Darien had taken.

“Which top donor?”

“Mr. Marat Aslan. He lives near me. We’ve been friends for a long time.”

“I never knew you were friends with Mr. Aslan. What’s the problem with him?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know. Why were you getting into his personal decisions with his son?”

“The young man I’m bringing to Christmas is his son.”

“His son Baran from Turkey?”

“Yes, that’s right. Your so-called friend sent Baran a ticket to New York City, then disowned him. He left him without money in a foreign country.”

“And when did Baran become your business?”

“He came to the shelter. And he’s my business because I love him.”

“For Marat to ring my doorbell at night, I can tell you he was furious.”

“What did he want from you?”

“For you to stay away from his son and mind your own business. I told him I would discuss it with you.”

“And you’re just calling me now?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“There’s nothing to discuss. We’ll see you Christmas Day. I’ve got to go.” Darien ended the call.

Chapter Twenty-eight Baran

Baran and Daddy Darien stepped into the cozy warmth of Miss Charlotte’s kitchen, the savory aroma of roasted chicken and herbs wrapping around him like a welcoming hug. She stood by the stove, her gray hair trimmed short, humming a tune he didn’t recognize.

“Sit down, boys,” she said, motioning to the small round table already set with a red Christmas tablecloth and a flickering candle. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

Daddy Darien and Baran slid into their usual chairs, both stretching their legs beneath the table, then playing footsie.

“You didn’t have to go all out, Miss Charlotte,” Daddy Darien said.

“Oh, nonsense. Growing boys like you two need a proper meal. And I know you’ve got plans tonight. You’ll need your energy,” she teased, turning with a smile and setting the steaming platter in front of them.

Baran fiddled with the edge of his napkin. “Darien’s just taking me out dancing.”

“Mm-hmm,” Miss Charlotte replied, settling into her chair across from Daddy Darien. “You two deserve a night of fun. Working at the shelter all day—you’re both too young to be this serious.”

“It’s not so bad,” Baran said, scooping a bite of buttery mashed potatoes onto his fork. “Besides, it’s nice knowing we’re helping people. I want to be just like Darien.”

“Miss Archer called and asked me if I would talk to you about hiring her back. She’s really sorry.”

“I can’t take her back. She was meddling in my business and mistreated Baran, so there’s no way. I’d already been thinking about it before Baran was involved anyway.”

“I figured you would say that and you’re right, she was all over your personal life.”

“It’s too bad because she did her job well,” Darien added.

“You didn’t have to fire on my account,” Baran interjected.

“She was a problem before you,” Daddy Darien said.

Miss Charlotte nodded in agreement with Daddy Darien, her gaze softening. “A little dancing might do wonders for both of you.”

“This will be our first dance,” Daddy Darien said.

Baran chuckled, shaking his head. “I can’t wait.”

“Then I want you two to have a special evening.”

Daddy Darian grinned, cheeks warm from her words and the cozy atmosphere. “We will.”

After they finished the delicious dinner, they showered together and changed into fresh clothes.

“You look so hot tonight,” Daddy Darien said.

“So do you.” Baran felt his face warming.

They each gave Miss Charlotte a goodnight kiss, and then headed out into the vibrant city, ready for a night of dancing and revelry at the gay club. Daddy Darien had planned to order his driver so he could have alcohol. Then he seemed to remember Baran couldn’t drink, so he drove his own car. When they got there, Daddy Darien parked the car and led Baran to the entrance, his hand firm on Baran’s shoulder as they navigated through the crowd. A bouncer stood by the door and made Baran show his ID, which was a Turkish one.

“I can’t read it, so you’re not drinking.” The bouncer put a red band around his wrist to indicate no alcohol.

The Glitter Box Club was a sensory explosion. They were greeted by a dazzling display of Christmas lights framing the stage and the walls. Neon lights pulsed to the rhythm of the music, casting vibrant hues of pink, blue, and green across the dance floor. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, cologne, and something faintly sweet—maybe spilled drinks or haze from the smoke machine. People moved like a collective heartbeat, the energy electric and contagious.

“Let’s grab a table first,” Daddy Darien shouted over the music, pointing to a small, high-top table near the edge of the dance floor.

Baran perched on one of the stools, taking in the scene. The bass reverberated through his chest, and the flashing lights made everything feel surreal. Daddy Darien slid into the seat across from him, leaning close to be heard. “I want us to take some time off before you start school. What would you like to see? Somewhere with a beach, maybe?”

Baran laughed, resting his elbows on the table. “Beach without snow?”

Daddy Darien shrugged, grinning. “We can fly to Hawaii for a week. Besides, you can’t work at the shelter forever without a break. It’s not healthy.”

Baran hesitated, his gaze drifting to the dance floor. “I’ve always wanted to see Hawaii.”

“Anywhere is good with me, as long as it’s with you,” Daddy Darien teased, winking.

Baran rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “You’re impossible.”

Daddy Darien stood abruptly, extending a hand. “Come on, Mr. Impossible. Time to dance.”

Baran hesitated, but eventually let Daddy Darien pull him to his feet. The music seemed louder now; the beat was undeniable as they found a spot amidst the throng of dancers. Daddy Darien moved effortlessly, his confidence infectious, while Baran tried to keep up, his movements stiff at first but gradually loosening.

“See? You’re a natural,” Daddy Darien said, leaning close as they danced.

Baran laughed, shaking his head. “A natural disaster, maybe.”

“You’re doing great,” Daddy Darien assured him, his voice warm and encouraging. “Just feel the music.”

Baran closed his eyes for a moment, letting the rhythm guide him. When he opened them, Daddy Darien was smiling at him, his expression full of pride.

“Better,” Daddy Darien said, spinning him suddenly, earning a surprised laugh from Baran. He stole a few kisses while they danced.

As the night went on, they danced and talked, their conversation weaving through the beats of the music. The music was loud and festive, and the dancers on the stage were wearing red and green elf outfits that sparkled under the spotlights. The club was packed with people enjoying the show, cheering and clapping along. The server noticed Daddy Darien waving him over and took their order of two Cokes. They sat and waited, absorbing the warmth and excitement of the club. The server returned with their drinks, then they turned their attention to the stage, where the dancers were doing a remix of “Jingle Bell Rock.”

“I come here every year to see their Christmas show,” Daddy Darien said.

A man, his eyes twinkling with mischief, approached the table with a confident stride. “It’s good to see you, Darien.”

“I wouldn’t miss it. This is my boy, Baran.”

“Hi, Baran. I’m Andrei Baranov. My husband, who is my boy too, is dancing on stage.”

“Nice to meet you,” Baran said.

“Sit down for a bit with us?” Daddy Darien asked.

When the stage show ended, a young dancer came to the table.

“I’m Daniel Baranov.”

Andrei introduced him to Daniel.

“Baran will be attending New York University during the spring semester,” Daddy Darien said.

“I go there too. Give me your number, and we can get together,” Daniel said to Baran.

They exchanged numbers, then Daniel had to leave to change his outfit.

“We’ll all have to get together soon,” Andrei said.

“Yes, we definitely will and thank you for the generous donation to Rainbow Haven.”

“Any time. Nice meeting you, Baran.” Andrei left them.

Baran sat with Darien at their table while the club was still alive with energy, its neon lights casting a colorful glow across the room. He stared at the walls adorned with glittering decorations.

The dance floor was packed with people once again, their movements fluid and joyful. A stage at the far end of the club would showcase the talented performers again in thirty minutes. Baran felt a thrill being in such an animated environment, surrounded by the buzz of laughter and conversation.

He turned to Daddy Darien with a smile. “I can’t wait to start college and make some new friends. It was so great meeting Daniel, the dancer. He’s so talented and friendly.”

Darien nodded, his eyes reflecting the colorful lights of the club. “You’ll meet a lot of interesting people in college. It’s a great opportunity to build connections and explore new things.”

Baran took a sip of his drink, feeling a sense of anticipation for the future. “I’m really looking forward to it. And it’s amazing to think about all the people I’ll get to know. It makes everything feel so much more exciting.”

Darien smiled. “You’re going to thrive, Baran. Just be yourself and take every opportunity that comes your way.”

Baran leaned in closer, feeling a rush of affection for Daddy Darien. “And speaking of opportunities, I’ve been thinking about our Hawaii vacation. I’ve always wanted to see the beaches and try surfing.”

Daddy Darien’s face lit up with excitement. “Hawaii is incredible. The beaches are beautiful, and there’s so much to do. We can go snorkeling, hiking, and of course, surfing. It’ll be the perfect getaway.”

Baran’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “It’ll be our first big trip together, and it sounds like it’ll be unforgettable.”

As they continued to chat about their upcoming vacation, the energy of the club buzzed around them, adding to the sense of adventure and possibility. Baran felt a profound sense of happiness and excitement. Knowing Daddy Darien was by his side, the future was filled with endless opportunities and shared dreams.