Broadway Luck Story

"Ahhhh, shit!" Tony had known since lunch that Ty was going to fuck him tonight, and he often started this way, but Ty's tongue on his crack never failed to make his legs shake and his toes tingle.

"Hmmmm," Ty gripped his ass, spread him wider and licked again. Deeper.

"Jesus Christ."

"Tony?"

"What? Oh God, please don't stop," Tony shuddered from head to foot as Ty kissed his hole, before sucking at his balls.

"Did you clean yourself for me?" Ty asked, before sucking one of Tony's balls back into his mouth and massaging with his tongue.

"Yea I," Tony gasped, "Oh shit. I'm gonna cum. Christ, yea I did."

Ty gripped the base of Tony's cock before pushing his face deep, and his tongue deeper.

"And why do you taste of cookie dough?" he asked on his withdrawal.

Tony's deep belly laugh just rolled out of him, further weakening him, "New lube. Do you like it?"

"Oh, Baby. You have no idea," another sweep made Tony moan, "You taste like the best treat ever."

At which point Tony braced against the back of the couch as Ty went to town.

Licking and kissing and tasting Tony deep, until he was nothing but shaking nerve endings and incoherent babbling.

The confident sexy man, capable of holding an audience in the palm of his hands and projecting his intention to the back of a theater, had been reduced to a human being at the mercy of sensation.

Helpless when his arousal shot out of him. Half collapsed and semi sobbing on the cushions.

"Please," he gasped, "Please fuck me." Just getting air into his lungs required superhuman effort.

"Christ, Ty. Fuck me please. I'm prepped," Tony begged, and moaned again as Ty replaced his tongue with his fingers to check.

"Yea, I may have just cleaned up most of your prep work," Ty admitted, and briefly embraced Tony from behind. Giving him a hug while he dragged in air and regained some strength.

Once his breathing calmed, Ty nipped into their bedroom to grab some more lube, "Better just slick you up a little more," he said.

"Oh shit, Ty!" Tony complained, having regained enough sense to realize he had cum all over the lining of his jacket which Ty had helpfully slung over the couch, "Look at my jacket. Jesus, what a mess."

"Better your jacket than the couch," Ty was unrepentant, "it'll wash."

"Ohhhhhhhh," Tony lost the power of speech again Ty's lubed fingers slipped inside his sensitive hole.

He started to slide down, but Ty hauled him up, "No. Stay with me Tony, you're getting fucked tonight."

"Can't."

Totally unsympathetic to his exhaustion, Ty slipped Tony's knees to the floor so he could rest his stomach on the couch seat. Pushing a cushion under Tony's tummy to raise his ass higher.

"This'll work," he said as he gripped Tony's hips, and pushed forcefully deep.

"Holy Shit!" Tony cried out as Ty paused, balls deep in his ass.

Ty slipped his arm around Tony again. Kissing his shoulder blade before nipping the back of his neck, "You ready."

"Oh, yea," Tony managed with the last of this breath, as Ty took everything he had in fast, hard thrusts.

-X

The show had been open just over three months when Randall Wynter joined the cast to start rehearsing.

It was more work for Isabel, Tony, and Polly than anyone else. But it was fun, and although sad to lose Dane, Randall made an exciting and challenging new cast mate.

Polly and Tony arrived at the theater late afternoon, having spent the day rehearsing.

Polly, who was carrying their late lunch/early dinner, entered Tony's dressing room first. She stopped so suddenly that he walked straight into her.

"Oomph!"

"Sorry, Tony."

"What's," he stopped, staring in amazement at the room, "What the fuck?"

The room was crammed full of flowers, balloons, assorted soft toys and cards. Every single one carried the same message. Over and over.

Will You Marry Me? Will You Marry Me? Will You Marry Me?

Scrawled on the mirror.

Will You Marry Me?

Tony's heart skittered briefly in reaction, but then continued to beat fast in discomfort. Something was very wrong.

"What the hell?" Polly wondered.

"Polly," Tony had to force his voice out, "Ty didn't do this."

"Of course he didn't," Polly agreed, wrinkling her nose at a particularly cutesy (and creepy) teddy bear. "If Ty was going to ask you to marry him, he would do it while he was still inside you. Probably about a second after cumming."

Tony bent over, rested his hands on his thighs and just laughed at her blunt statement.

She just grinned and watched him try to get his breath back.

"Goddamn, Polls. You're right!"

Ten minutes later the theater manager stood looking around, her forehead furrowed in confusion.

"Are you absolutely sure this isn't your boyfriend being romantic?" she asked.

"Trust me. No."

The girl that had been covering the stage door answered her summons at that point and walked into the room. No look of surprise on her face.

"Aww. It looks lovely. It's so sweet. Do you like it?"

"Wait, you knew about this?" Tony asked amazed.

"Of course," she admitted, "I thought it was a lovely idea. You're so lucky. Ty is gorgeous and really romantic."

Tony shook his head as the theatre manager raised her eyebrows and shot him a look.

MC, who had clearly caught a rumor, walked in at that point catching her comments. He looked around his face expressionless.

Then he looked at Tony, "Did you say yes?" he deadpanned.

"MC!"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," MC looked at the stage door girl, "So who delivered this stuff, because it sure as hell wasn't Ty?"

The girl was starting to look nervous now, "Well she had a card, from a florist store and she said it was a surprise."

"Um, MC," Polly was stood on a chair, holding another fluffy purple 'something' with big sad eyes that had been placed on top of a cupboard.

"What?"

"I think this one has a camera in it."

They all rushed over and examined the little stuffed toy. Sure enough a small lens could be seen almost hidden in the fur.

"I'm calling my husband," the theater manager said, pulling out her cell.

"Your husband? Why?" MC asked.

"He's a cop."

-X

Detective David Morris didn't waste any time.

He quizzed the stage door girl (back in place, for all the good that did!), before heading for Tony's dressing room.

"The florist card looks professional, but the address is 54th and Franklin," he said by way of introduction as he entered the room, eyes on his phone, "I've just advised the young lady out there, that there is no 54th and Franklin. Where the hell is she from?"

He looked up for the first time, "Whoa!"

"Yea, it's pretty full-on," his wife said before introducing everyone.

Tony was quickly moved into Polly's dressing room, which was big enough for both of them. Although he was only allowed to take costume and essential items. Everything else was staying for processing.

Detective Morris left a team doing that as he and his sidekick questioned Tony, who had no clue who would have wanted to talk their way into his dressing room.

Less than thirty minutes later the other cop, who preferred to be called Ziggy ("Even my Mom calls me Ziggy!") disappeared on an errand and Detective Morris spent the entire show talking on the phone and getting in the way backstage.

It was only after the performance ended that he showed Tony a picture, clearly taken from the theater's security camera at the stage door, and Tony realized just how fast he had been working while appearing to do very little.

"Recognize her?"

"It's Mrs Baginski," Tony spluttered, "My landlord's wife. I don't understand."

"Eva Baginski," Morris said, "She's got form for stalking and a history of mental health issues."

"Ty!" Tony started, but Detective Morris just held up a hand.

"Ziggy's keeping an eye on him. I wanted him to open up your apartment, but it seems he had to cover for a sick dancer tonight, so we'll head to the club now and pick him up."

By the time they reached Engagement, Tony knew that the camera-teddy had been sending images to a burn phone that had been traced. Found discarded in a bin. The prints had matched Eva Baginski. Detective Morris really did move fast.

Ty had given the cop's his keys and permission to check their apartment which was still being processed, and Detective Morris had quickly dug out of Tony the time, a few months previously, when Tony had helped Mrs Baginski change a tire on her car.

"It was when Ty was on tour, so maybe four or five months ago. They keep a car in a parking garage a few blocks away. She was going to see her cousin, but I've hardly seen her since."

He rubbed the back of his neck, "She was impressed that I knew how to change a tire! Are you sure about this?"

"Mr Baginski is being really helpful. She's fixated before. Always young, good looking men. Your Landlord was honest about the fact he only rented you guys the apartment because you were a gay couple. He thought that would be enough to prevent anything like this, if she became ill again."

He frowned as he read and responded to a text before continuing, "She's in the wind. Disappeared. Not answering her phone, but she took out some cash from their account, so we have no credit card use to trace. But the stuff in your dressing room was paid for by card, over three weeks ago, so she planned it. Some of her actions are very logical, some are completely illogical. It's a confusing mix."

"Is she dangerous?"

Detective Morris shook his head but also shrugged, "Never has been, but you will need to be cautious, because she's clearly ill. Unpredictable."

They reached the club to find Ziggy at the bar talking with Cal. He stood quickly at his bosses glare.

"Ty's fine, David. He has a glamour-puss called Frank watching over him, and a bouncer," he had to shout over the applause from a recently finished routine.

"Bet he loves that!" Tony muttered under his breath, accepted a drink from Cal with a nod of thanks.

"What part of stick with him wasn't clear, Ziggy?"

"But he's," Ziggy stopped and merely gestured at the stage as the lights came up and the music started for the next number.

Three spotlights, three beautiful men.

Frank poured his smoky voice over the sultry number. Singing of forbidden love, longing and pleasures of the flesh.

It was pure sex, and every word was enacted by the two dancers behind him, as the fragile, young, blonde, innocent looking twink was seduced, corrupted, and ultimately ruined by the larger, darker, more powerful older man.

Tony watched the hand drift up Ty's strong arm, exploring his skin and caressing over muscle as they stood pelvis to pelvis, swaying, and rubbing against each other.

The spotlight highlighting Ty's hands full of ass, as the young man balanced himself against Ty's hard chest and gazed into his eyes before Ty's mouth swooped in and claimed him.

It was a filthy, sexy, and dark celebration of the male form and left Tony as hard as a rock.

Unusually Frank left the stage with the two dancers, instead of playing to the crowd, and Tony knew that was to keep an eye on Ty.

Detective Morris turned his disapproving gaze on Cal, "How old is that blonde kid? I want to see ID, right the hell now," he wasn't pleased when both Tony and Cal burst out laughing.

"Sorry, sorry," Cal reined it in, "He's actually older than Ty. Believe it or not he's thirty-four."

He was sympathetic to Morris' disbelieving look, "Go on Ziggy, go check it out. You know how to get backstage. Your boss will worry otherwise."

Ziggy moved off, passing Ty and Frank coming the other way.

Detective Morris leaned into Tony before they got too close, "Thirty-four?"

Tony nodded, "Cal runs a good place, you can trust him."

"And doesn't that bother you? Your boyfriend practically fucking another man on stage?"

Tony pushed down the laugh bubbling in his throat, managing to keep it to a smile, "It's a performance, Detective. Your wife's in the business, surely you realize. It's really no different to me spending two hours making fake love to half the girls in the show tonight."

Morris managed a grin, "Weird way to make a living."

"Hell yea!" Tony agreed, before adding, "Oh, and he's straight."

"Your boyfriend?"

This time Tony did crack up, "No! Jesus, the blonde non-kid."

Morris rubbed a hand over his brow, laughing good naturedly at himself, "It's been a long day."

Cal handed him a glass as Frank and Ty arrived, "Just Coke, Detective, It's just Coke."

"Thanks."

Ty just wrapped his arms around Tony and drew him in. He was still hot and damp from the dance. Tony couldn't help but notice he was still hard from the dance.

"Are you okay?"

"Yea, I'm okay, Ty. It's so surreal."

"You're telling me!"

-X

Frank and Cal insisted on escorting Tony and Ty home, so it was a small group who walked into the apartment in the early hours of the morning.

The police team had been thorough and quick.

There were half a dozen dirty cups in the sink and a black gym bag on the low table near the couch.

Ty and Tony hung around feeling awkward as Detective Morris and Ziggy caught up with the team.

Cal and Frank went to make more coffee and clean up in the kitchen. The layout of Tony and Ty's apartment was open plan, but a strange shape.

The bedroom wall partly blocked the kitchen from the entrance, even though the kitchen and lounge were basically one large room.

Frank and Cal shamelessly listened in as Morris invited Ty and Tony to sit on their own couch. He sat on the low table next to the gym bag and waved a hand over it.

"Do you both recognize this bag?"

"Sure, it's Tony's," Ty said at exactly the same time as Tony said, "Yea, it's Ty's."

"What?" they both looked at each other.

Detective Morris looked grim, "Can either of you actually tell me how long it's been in the apartment?"

"I thought Ty brought it back from tour?" Tony said, looking puzzled.

"I thought it was yours," Ty admitted, "It was on top of the wardrobe, right?"

"It was," Morris said, gently, "I'm sorry to tell you there's another camera in here."

Ty's head fell to his hands as Tony jumped up in shock, "What?"

"Oh, Christ."

Frank came over and eased Tony back down, "Sit, Honey. Sit down now. Cal get the brandy," he yelled.

"We don't have brandy," Tony whispered.

"I brought some with me, handsome," Frank told him, giving Ty a nudge as Cal brought two glasses over.

"Thanks," Ty knocked it back and hissed in the back of his throat, as Frank encouraged Tony to sip a little, "Another camera transmitting?"

"Yes, we're trying to track the signal."

"It'll be another disposal phone. And she'll have dumped it."

"Most likely. You came back from tour?"

"Four months ago on Tuesday. It's been transmitting this whole time?"

"The batteries are fresh. She's probably been changing them."

"Oh God," Tony couldn't sit, "She's been watching us. She's been looking at our things, I feel sick."

"Well I bet she learnt some stuff!"

"It's not fucking funny, Ty."

Ty stood and gripped Tony's shoulders, "People watch us all the time, it's what we do. And people go home and fantasize about us, you know that as well as I do. It's a part of the job."

"This is different. This feels different," Tony's eyes were damp.

"I know," Ty sighed and framed his face gently, "I know it's intrusive, but it's over now," he reassured Tony with a soft kiss. He tasted of brandy and salt.

Tony sniffed a little as Ty pulled back, "You need to stop being so devastatingly nice to little old ladies," he said and was rewarded with a small smile.

"It's a crush, Tony. One that's gotten out of hand. She's got no reason to hurt you."

Morris stood up, "Ty is right, Tony. Eva is not a criminal, she can't hide out for long, we'll pick her up in a day or two at most."

"You can stay at ours," Cal offered, "If you don't feel safe here, come and stay at ours."

Tony rubbed his hands over his face, "I'm sorry. It's a shock. No, thanks Cal, but we'll be okay."

"I've no reason to believe Eva Baginski is dangerous, but even so you will take some precautions," Detective Morris told them.

"Travel back from work together, and use a cab, not the subway. You keep this door locked and chained at night. You don't open the door without checking who is there. I'll put mine, Ziggy's, and the precinct's numbers in both of your phones. And if you see Eva Baginski when you are out and about, you do not approach her. You go somewhere safe and call it in."

Ty passed both of their phones over as Tony sank back to the couch, "Whatever you say, Detective."

-X

On reflection, Tony would wonder why he and Ty had taken such strict precautions upon leaving work and coming home at night but had never given a thought to danger in the middle of the afternoon.

He had Friday off, his first day off since the show had opened, and had gone to the gym and a dance class with Ty in the morning.

Ty had gone into Engagement to rehearse a new routine, but also had the evening off. Tony had returned home to potter, do laundry, and just enjoy a day of rest. Or his version of a day of rest.

After going down to the laundry room in the basement and transferring their sheets (how did he and Ty get through so much bedding?!), to the dryer, he climbed back to their top floor apartment and decided to jump in the shower.

Sending a text for Ty to grab the laundry if he got back first.

He heard the door slam as he was drying off and wandered out of the bedroom in nothing but unfastened jeans, rubbing his hair with a towel.

"Did you grab the sheets?" he asked, his voice muffled as he pulled the towel from his head, then froze in shock, his heart giving five painfully hard thumps in his chest before it settled into mere panicked racing.

Ty was on his knees in the centre of the floor. His wrists were handcuffed behind his back and there was blood running down the side of his face and neck, dripping onto his clothes.

His face was a mask of pain and he was clearly disorientated. Eva Baginski was stood behind him, her hand gripping his hair and pulling his head back. Her other hand holding one of Ty's prized Yanagiba knives to his throat.

Ty was almost obsessively particular about his knives. They never went back in their special block unless he had cleaned them himself. They were razor sharp and completely lethal.

And why the fuck, Tony thought as the towel slipped from his nerveless fingers, couldn't his boyfriend have a hobby other than cooking.

A quick glance around confirmed that the door was locked, the chain pulled across.

There was some sort of sports trophy abandoned on the floor by the couch. As neither he nor Ty had really had time for sports, being too concentrated in dance, he assumed that it was one of Mr Baginski's old football trophy's.

No wonder Ty was stunned, if she had clonked him with that.

Tony took a shaky breath, holding his hands up and trying what he hoped was a puzzled and friendly, but calm smile on Eva.

Never again would he doubt his own acting abilities.

"Mrs Baginski? Eva, are you okay? What's going on?" he asked gently.

"I can't do it anymore," she told him calmly.

"Can't do what, Eva?" he kept his eyes on hers.

"Watch him keeping you from me. It's not fair. You should be with me," she was rock steady, looking at him earnestly, and sounded completely sane and frighteningly determined.

"But Eva. Ty's not keeping you from me. We're friends aren't we?" he watched her face light up.

"Yes."

"And Ty's my boyfriend, Eva," (keep using her name, keep the connection), "I love him," his voice faltered as her face turned thunderous and the knife rose.

"No. I love you."

"Okay, okay, I understand. That makes me really happy, Eva," her hand relaxed again. Jerking slightly when Ty rasped, "Tony, run. Get out."