An instant feeling of regret started brewing in Jesse’s stomach, a sense left to dissolve in a pool made of acid at the thought of being sixty-bucks richer.

When reality tapped his senses, he glanced at his phone and silently cursed at himself for letting Kaz hold him up longer than he expected.

Jesse hurried down the stairwell, knowing the elevator was a deathtrap, and it was faster to get to the garage the old-fashioned way. Typically, it was instinct to avoid taking his bike out in such lousy weather, but seeing is how it’d been raining non-stop for weeks, and there was no time to waste, he made an exception.

Of course, the garage was every bit as unsettling during the day as it was at night. No natural light was able to seep through, so tenants were plunged into a pit of dull florescent lights and wet walls painted with disturbing graffiti. Down here, most of the cars were picked apart and left useable, some haven’t moved in months, and others came and went as frequently as the tenants. So, it was a blessing his bike hadn’t been scrapped for parts or stolen it right out of its parking spot. And after he located it, Jesse tore off the cover and tossed it aside before unlocking the chain.

Then, a sound.

Jesse looked up, turning to the darkness of deeper tunnels and seeing nothing but shadows the light couldn’t reach, and listening to droplets of moisture dripping off slimy ceilings.

Something clicked and rolled against the concrete—rocks dropping from unidentified heights or claws tapping impatiently to a tune.

Either way, fuck that.

Jesse swallowed the lump in this throat and got onto his bike, starting it immediately. He rode toward the exit in hopes of escaping whatever unseen force enjoyed playing games with his anxiety.

Above ground, he stopped to strap on his helmet. The rain had yet to come this afternoon, which left the roads dry enough for a fun ride. And with a few revs, his bike came to life once again, roaring and ready to go.

He rode onto the street and raced around traffic, adrenaline pumping through his veins as if he’d overheat and turn to ash.

It’d been a while since he felt normal or had a chance to stop worrying about Pike, the restaurant, and everything else, making his anxiety about as annoying as customers asking for refunds for the food they’ve already eaten.

Today, he wanted things to be okay, and they might be because he was back.

Jesse sped up, so his bike and heart were on the same rhythm, so he couldn’t make out what the signs said or identify the feeling in his gut.

The ride was too short, but not short enough given the destination, and he parked as close as he could to the gym.

Heading up the street, he heard the acoustic mellowness of a familiar voice coming from up ahead.

Elegant fingers plucked the strings of an old guitar with both feeling and passion, the things people evaded when doing something they love turned into an old piece of furniture left to gather dust under the sheets of responsibility and life. And a voice one could only equivalate to a perfect summers day sang each word in an enraptured trance bestowed upon him by the melody rising from his fingertips.

Jesse followed the song until he turned the corner and found Julian sitting at his usual spot surrounded by equipment.

Creamy blonde hair with a glowing shade of dreamy pink guarded Julian’s soft, angelic face with the smooth edges of a comb-back fade. Today, he was wearing a loose tank that hung low enough to expose thin collarbones and brief glimpses of chest. And Jesse always felt like the sleazeball preying on giddy college students at a bar whenever he had to resist the urge to sneak a glance down Julian’s shirt.

He took out a bill and dropped it into the musician’s guitar case.

That tip felt dirty, tip him again.

He added a few more and waved.

Still playing, Julian flashed a smile laced with rainbows and sunlight.

And Jesse quickened his pace up the sidewalk.

The gym sat two buildings away from the corner, but before going inside, he stopped and peeked into the window. Then, took a moment to breathe.

“Whew, okay, Jesse. You got this. You got this.” He repeated, ignoring the group of teens who passed him with weirded-out glances.

With one last self-check—hair, clothes, breath—he headed inside.

The gym was busier than usual, filled with men and women who isolated themselves in their music or focused on trainers shouting words of empowerment and over-confidence. The smell of sweat and rubber consumed the open space like a dust cloud, and music vibrated from speakers in the walls.

A few people greeted him—regulars and employees, and he tried to acknowledge them in between cautious glances around the room.

Somewhere, a loud and deep laugh broke through the gym music.

Jesse searched for the source, and there he was.

In the middle of a gathering of admirers, Gage stood surrounded and trying to answer all the questions thrown at him from different directions.

Jesse stopped and admired.

The man was beautiful, the living-embodiment of perfection and kindness with the body of a god that left Jesse hopelessly smitten.

Recently, Gage took a trip to some power-lifting competition he’d been training months for, and everyone was ready to welcome him back with endless demands for details and glimpses of his awards. Not surprisingly, the man was patient enough to answer every single one of them, which was a little disappointing.

There wasn’t a chance in hell he could break through so many people, and thus, Jesse defeatedly headed for the locker rooms.

The moist air, whiffs of sweat, and clouds of body spray greeted him as Jesse stepped into the tiled room where men loitered, taking mirror selfies or stood talking to one another in their towels and briefs. He chose a locker in a daze and reached into his backpack to fish out a lock.

Life was so unfair.

He’d love nothing more than to finally work up the courage to ask Gage out, a chance to find the motivation he needed to recover from dropping out or making a basement porno. While men like Gage stood surrounded by ordinary people doing normal things, Jesse was struggling to remove the anchor attached to his ankle.

An anchor named Pike and a chain made of gang-bangs and non-copyrighted background music.

“Jesse!”

He turned with a schoolgirl gasp after Gage appeared from around the corner with a smile. “There you are.”

Dirty brown curls fell against a dark fade, kissing sun-tanned skin with traces of freckles and sweat. The man stood almost as tall as Pike, but with a bigger build, a collection of solid muscles traced with the shadows of solid hills lifting up against skin and shirt stretched thin. Dog tags shivered over a massive chest, and when those large arms opened up to accept Jesse’s form, he panicked.

Jesse made a noise, an embarrassing yelp followed by a frantic cry after he fell over the bench.

He braced for the impact of wet tile crawling with athlete’s foot, but instead, was caught and pulled into Gage’s hard chest.

And Jesse lingered there, listening the man’s heartbeat fall into a calming tempo to soft breaths. Fuck, he smelled good.

“Careful,” A hand slid down Jesse’s back and made a home on his waist, fingers playfully teasing traces of bare skin.

“Ahh!” Jesse freaked, pushing away from Gage’s chest and jumping back, but the man’s iron grip locked onto his wrist and brought him back.

They collided again.

Jesse looked up, coming face to face with the man—their noses practically touching, and a wave of red flooded his face.

“I’ve missed you, Jesse,” The man said, his voice a low, deep whisper meant to enchant and deceive Jesse’s senses until they broke under the weight of arousal.

“R-Really?” It was a questionable confession. Did they ever have a full conversation? Jesse remembered talking about toothpaste once, and he asked a question about protein shakes that ended abruptly when the thought of Gage serving up low-calorie, vitamin-filled treats made him horny as hell.

Honestly, he was always too nervous to talk to men—especially Gage—and things became increasingly stressful after becoming Pike’s personal onahole. But this was…it was both pleasant and terrifyingly convenient.

“Hey,” Gage spoke, though gentle, he gripped Jesse’s chin in a harsh press. “Did you hear me?”

Jesse shivered, and his cock threatened to wake up. “N-No. So-Sorry?”

“I was asking if you missed me too?” He lingered close with lips tracing places he might kiss.

“I-I…um…” What Jesse wanted to say and what he needed to say were at war, and he pressed his arm into Gage’s chest, taking the man’s mouth away from his temple. “W-Wait! Here? I-I mean…we can’t…I mean…I’m really confus-ah!!”

In a movement too sudden to counter, Jesse’s back met the bench, and his head hit the hardwood with an unsatisfying thump.

He looked up, watching Gage straddle the seat and pushing his body in between Jesse’s legs—opening them, and putting them over his own.

Rough hands rubbed his muscles, gently squeezing and seeking the tender places of his inner thighs. Jesse flinched beneath the man, but having nowhere to go as the throbbing pressure in the middle of his legs became painfully obvious.

A blush burned the bridge of Jesse’s nose, and he watched Gage with softened eyes.

“Dude, there are people all around us,” Jesse’s heart skipped, and his cock twitched again, a dead giveaway he was way too into this.

“There’s no one here but us,” Gage said with a smile, his hands lifting Jesse’s legs and holding them together against his shoulder.

Deviously, Gage’s free hand began to pull off Jesse’s pants.

Shit, Shit, Shit! What in the fuck is going on? I can’t do this! I mean…I totally can, I totally want too. Holy shit, is that his dick? Jesse blinked, staring at Gage’s legs and the long swell beginning to rise from under his pants. Jesus Christ. Was he always that big? God, it’s twitching. Do dicks do that? Like move, move?

The warm air of the locker room touched Jesse’s bare legs, a little dose of heat to counter Gage’s cold hands.

The man’s mouth kissed Jesse’s calves, keeping his legs closed while eager hands pulled off his briefs until they were tight around his thighs, holding them together with an elastic band. Gage rubbed Jesse’s skin, rocking his hips to an unheard tempo and continuing to shower his legs with tamed kisses.

“Shit,” He said against Jesse’s flesh. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Gage fingered Jesse’s hole, quickly finding it in such an opened position.

Jesse breathed in firmly, small shivers mixing with uneven inhales.

“Your body is so erotic,” That large swell bumped Jesse’s ass, and those skilled fingers slid in easy, drawing out a pitiful whimper.

Fuck, fuck, touch me more.

“And your ass is dripping wet.”

“It’s because you’re…” Jesse paused and opened his eyes to a surprisingly ugly ceiling painted a dull yellow. “Wait…what?”

“Mmm, so good,”

Jesse’s eyes shot downward, and he stared at the man. “No, seriously. What? My ass?”

“Yeah, See?” Gage lifted his hands, displaying three fingers coated and dripping wet with strands of self-lubrication.

“Holy…shit,” Jesse’s mouth dropped open, and his eyes watched Gage’s fingers make a mess by moving them together. “I-Is that…is that normal? Oh my god, there’s so much. Should I see a—Gah! Christ! Don’t lick it!”

“Why? It’s a part of you, and it’s tasty.” A devilish smile met Jesse’s disgusted stares as Gage’s tongue lapped up the mystery lube. “Now, it’ll be easier for you to take in my knot.”

It might’ve been impossible to count how many expressions crossed Jesse’s face right then, so many that his body shut down, and his appearance crashed into a blank stare. He blinked, fluttering his eyelids in an attempt to understand what in the fuck he just heard.

“Your….Your…knot?” 

“Bare my children, Jesse,” Gage leaned down, and their lips closed in.

Jesse tightened his eyes shut and braced for one of the most what-the-fuck kisses of his life.

“Jesse?”

A distant voice.

“Jesse?”

Again.

“Hey! Are you okay?”

A sudden and massive pressure pushed down on his body, a non-physical jolt that woke him up as he laid on the floor, surrounded by several men in gym clothes and towels—including Gage—who were all looking down at him.