Subconscious

by fictionlag (ao3)

Chapter 1

Keith stepped off the bus, his earphones blasting his favorite tunes as he surveyed the bustling city around him. His broad shoulders and strong frame strained under the weight of several suitcases, his long dark hair pulled into a bun atop his head. Clad in a band t-shirt and dark jeans, he looked every bit the part of a rockstar. The city was a far cry from his small hometown, and the excitement of his new life at the university's art department buzzed in his veins.

After a long search for an affordable place to live, Keith's optimism began to wane. The first place he visited was a damp, musty basement that reeked of mold. He didn't even bother to step inside."Well, that was a dungeon," he muttered, shaking his head as he walked away.

The next house was even worse. The door was opened by a guy holding a bong, eyes red and vacant.

"Uh, hi," Keith began.

"Hey, man. You got any snacks?" the guy asked, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

Keith blinked. "Yeah, no. Wrong place," he said, making a hasty exit.

At another house, he was shown an empty, exorbitantly priced apartment. The landlord's dismissive attitude didn't help, and Keith left feeling more frustrated than ever.

Finally, he stumbled upon an ad placed by two students, Lo and Dax. Their house was old but spacious, with four bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a living room. Keith rang the doorbell, his hopes pinned on this last option.

Lo, a cheerful guy with a welcoming smile, opened the door. "Hey, you must be Keith! Come on in."

Dax, lounging on the couch, gave a nod of approval. "Nice to meet you, Keith. We're students too. Make yourself at home."

The house, though aged, had a certain charm. The wooden floors creaked underfoot, and the walls were adorned with mismatched paintings and posters. The living room boasted an old, comfy couch and a scratched-up coffee table. It was clear that Lo and Dax had put effort into making the place livable, and Keith felt a glimmer of hope.

A month later, another guy moved in.

Dax gathered everyone in the living room for a chat. "Guys, dude is gay. He was kicked out of his family home. Let's be mindful and respectful, okay? Be careful not to say anything stupid."

Lo looked offended. "Why would we insult him?"

Dax smirked. "I'm mostly referring to mister-rockbar-casual here, who asked that pink haired guy in Art Class if he likes dick."

Lo gaped at Keith, who looked sheepish. "No, you didn't!"

"I... hey, I was genuinely curious. I mean..." Keith stammered.

"Yeah, okay, would you ask any other person if they like dick or pussy? Think about that for a second. If I hear you say anything remotely offensive to him, I'm going to throw you out, understood?" Dax warned.

"Daxy, I'm not homophobic, I just—" Keith began.

"Yeah, I didn't say you were homophobic, I said you were nosy and a jerk," Dax retorted.

Andres’ arrival was unforgettable. A lean, pretty man with stylish ash blonde hair walked in. He was wearing earrings in both ears and rag & bone eyeglasses. "Hi, I'm Andres. Nice to meet you all," he said, his voice a stark contrast to his look. It was a very deep, husky voice.

Keith cleared his throat. "Uh, welcome. Sorry in advance for any dumb questions."

Andres laughed, a rich, warm sound. "No worries. I've heard it all."

Two weeks later, Andres decided to address the elephant in the room. "Just so you all know, I'm interested in men. That doesn't mean you have to set me up with every gay person you know. I'm focusing on myself for now."

Lo grinned. "Got it. No matchmaking from me."

Andres was a considerate roommate, quickly forming bonds with everyone. He and Keith, in particular, grew close as they took on various house projects together. They painted walls, made a table out of a broken desk, and covered the armchairs with waterproof cloth. They raided bazaars for cheap decorations, transforming the old house into a cozy home.

One day, while painting the living room, Andres glanced at Keith. "You missed a spot," he teased, pointing to a perfectly painted area.

Keith rolled his eyes. "You're lucky you're cute," he shot back, smirking.

Andres pretended to swoon. "Flattery?"

Soon, Andres and Keith developed a habit of playing online games together. Andres often fell asleep in Keith's room, and their individual rooms became almost redundant. Andres' room was often locked and unused, as he spent most of his time with Keith.

One evening, while they were all lounging in the living room, Dax looked at Andres and Keith, who were bickering over the last slice of pizza. "You two are like an old married couple," he remarked.

Lo chuckled. "Yeah, just kiss already and get it over with."

Keith threw a pillow at them. "Shut up! I like pussy and pussy likes me."

Andres shrugged comically, "Lo, honey, I have standards. I would never date a guy who uses the word 'pussy' more than once in a sentence."

The only part of the day they weren't together was when Keith attended his classes. Their bond grew stronger, and the house was filled with laughter and camaraderie. Keith couldn't have asked for a better group of friends to share his new life in the city.

Chapter 2

Keith quietly left the girl’s dorm room, careful not to wake her up. She was an interesting girl with bright eyes and a quick wit that had initially drawn him to her. But as he walked down the dimly lit hallway, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. There had been no real connection, no spark that made him want to stay. She hadn’t seemed particularly eager to see him again either, and he wasn’t even sure if she had been satisfied.

He sighed as he stepped out into the cool evening air. The sun had just set, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, gradually fading into the deep blue of night. Keith stuffed his hands into his pockets and began the walk back to his house. The city was alive with the sounds of nightlife: cars honking, people laughing, and the distant hum of music from nearby bars.

As he strolled down the street, his eyes wandered to the windows of various shops. Colorful leaflets and posters adorned the glass, advertising local events and music shows. He paused in front of one particularly vibrant flyer announcing an upcoming indie concert at a nearby venue. The thought of live music intrigued him, and he made a mental note to check it out later.

Continuing his walk, Keith's mind drifted back to the girl. She had seemed perfect on paper, but there had been an emotional distance between them that he couldn’t bridge. Either way, it left him feeling a bit hollow.

He passed by a small park where a group of kids were playing, their laughter echoing through the air. It brought a faint smile to his face, a reminder that not everything in life had to be complicated. Sometimes, it was the simple joys that mattered most.

Finally, Keith reached the mini-market on the corner of his street. The familiar bell chimed as he pushed open the door, and the cool air inside was a welcome relief from the warmth outside. He made his way to the snack aisle, scanning the shelves for his favorite brand of popcorn.

As he grabbed a bag, he overheard a couple in the next aisle arguing about which movie to rent. It reminded him of his own plans for the night—watching a movie about parallel universes. He chuckled to himself, thinking about how he loved getting lost in those mind-bending plots.

With the popcorn in hand, he made his way to the checkout counter. The cashier, a friendly older woman, greeted him with a smile. "Evening, Keith. Movie night again?"

"Yeah, you know me too well," he replied with a grin, handing her the money.

She laughed. "Well, enjoy your movie. Hope it’s a good one."

"Thanks, I’m sure it will be," he said, taking his change and the popcorn.

The walk from the mini-market to his house was short, and as he approached his front door, he took a moment to appreciate the quietness of the street. He liked living in this neighborhood, with its mix of lively energy and peaceful corners.

Stepping inside, Keith felt a sense of comfort wash over him. The house was empty, as Dax and Lo were out with friends, and Andres was still at work. He liked these moments of solitude, giving him time to think and unwind.

Initially, he had planned to use this rare quiet evening to study for his upcoming History of Art exam. He usually studied at the library because Dax and Lo were very loud, and he enjoyed flirting with the nerdy girls there, even though he never actually asked any of them out for coffee. The quiet of the house seemed like a perfect opportunity.

Keith went to his room and pulled out his textbooks and notes. He spread them out on the kitchen table, which was less cluttered than the living room. For the next couple of hours, he immersed himself in Renaissance art, trying to remember dates, artists, and significant works. 

After a while, though, his mind started to wander. His thoughts drifted back to the girl from earlier, and he found himself questioning his approach to dating. He sighed, pushing those thoughts aside, and decided to take a break.

He grabbed the bag of popcorn from the kitchen and set it in the microwave. As the kernels began popping, he looked around the living room, noting the familiar chaos. Dax’s textbooks were scattered on the coffee table, and Lo’s collection of quirky mugs cluttered the kitchen counter.

With the popcorn ready, Keith settled onto the couch with his laptop, ready to dive into his movie. He hoped it would be enough to distract him from the nagging thoughts about his lackluster hookup. As the film began, he let himself get lost in the story, the vibrant world of parallel universes drawing him in. The room was dark, illuminated only by the glow of his laptop screen.

As he watched, his phone buzzed next to him. With a sigh, Keith paused the movie and glanced at his phone. A new match on Tinder. He opened the app and started browsing through his matches. Most of the girls were incredibly attractive, their profiles filled with glamorous photos and witty bios. But for some reason, Keith found himself swiping left on all of them. It wasn’t that they weren’t pretty; they just didn’t seem to spark his interest.

He laughed to himself, wondering if he was being too picky. Maybe he was just in one of those moods. He switched over to a chat with a girl he had been talking to for a few days. 

Their conversation was light and flirty, but even that felt a bit tedious tonight.

"Hey, you," the latest message read. "What are you up to?"

"Just watching a movie," he replied, adding a popcorn emoji for good measure.

"Sounds fun! What movie?"

"Something about parallel universes. Super trippy."

"Nice! Maybe we can watch a movie together sometime?" she suggested.

Keith smiled but felt no real excitement at the prospect. "Yeah, maybe," he typed back.

Just as he was about to put his phone down and resume his movie...

Riiing!

The sound of his phone jolted him from his thoughts. Sighing, he paused the movie and picked up the call. "I am Mr. Key Key's personal assistant. I am now forwarding the call to him," he answered in a mock-serious tone. The caller ID showed it was his friend and roommate, Andres.

"Keith, SOS! I need you to log in to my laptop and send my CV on Viber. Quick!" Andres' voice was urgent, almost panicked.

"Oh... okay, wait." Keith got up and headed to Andres's room, curiosity piqued.

"The code is wolfbear," said Andres. The urgency in his voice made it clear this was important. Keith knew that Andres was desperately trying to find a job.

"I’m in. I just sent it. And... what the hell is a wolfbear?" Keith laughed as he typed in the password.

"It's a gay thing. I'll explain when I get home. Cross your fingers for me to get this job!" Andres replied, a bit of hope breaking through his stress.

Keith chuckled and was about to shut down the laptop. But as he glanced at the desktop, he couldn't help but notice the chaos. Files and photos were strewn everywhere in no particular order. "Oh my GOD, the fucking mess on this guy's laptop!" he mumbled to himself.

Deciding to do a good deed, he began creating folders and organizing the files thematically. As he was sorting through the digital clutter, a folder named "incubus" caught his eye. "The fuck is that?" he muttered.

"Nah... It's probably nothing. Maybe some kinky shit he’s into... Wait, why is it 64 GB?" Keith laughed "What the fuck has this guy been hoarding?" 

Keith's curiosity got the better of him, and he clicked on the folder. It contained numerous files, the majority of the MP3 format.

"Is he making music or something?" Keith exclaimed.

He clicked on one of the files. 

"What the..." he whispered.

Chapter 3

Keith sat in the back row of his History of Art class, trying to focus on the professor’s lecture. As the class drew to a close, he gathered his textbooks and slid them into his backpack. He checked his phone—Dax and Lo were supposed to pick him up in an hour to head to a party. Andres was working a night shift at the diner and had opted out of the frat party, citing the number of jackasses he didn’t like there.

Keith decided it wasn’t worth the time to go all the way home and then come back, so he texted Dax to come pick him up from the university instead. With an hour to kill, he figured he might as well relax on campus.

He headed to the university cafeteria and ordered a coffee. As he waited, he glanced around at the other students, some chatting animatedly while others were buried in their laptops and textbooks. Grabbing his coffee, he found a quiet corner to sit and sip his drink. He mentally prepared for the night ahead, hoping the party would be worth it.

After finishing his coffee, Keith went to the bathroom to freshen up. It was a habit he had developed—carrying essentials in his backpack in case he ended up crashing at a girl’s place. He brushed his teeth, styled his hair, and applied some deodorant. Feeling refreshed, he exited the cafeteria and decided to take a short walk around the campus.

As he wandered, one thing kept bugging his mind. It had been gnawing at him for days, and he couldn’t shake it. He knew he really shouldn’t be searching for this, but the curiosity was too strong. He found himself walking towards an internet cafe near the college grounds.

Pushing open the door, he was greeted by the familiar hum of computers and the low murmur of conversations. Keith chose a computer in a quiet corner, away from prying eyes. He logged in, feeling a mix of anticipation and apprehension.

He typed quickly, his fingers flying over the keyboard. He hesitated for a moment before hitting enter. The screen loaded, and his eyes scanned the results. He felt a rush of adrenaline, followed by a pang of guilt. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Keith had searched, "What are JJboys?" The top result was a detailed explanation: JJboys is an online adult service that focuses on the exchange of money for various services. The site offered a plethora of options: escorts, videos, audio recordings, pictures, and paid requests. There were also live video chats, personal messaging services, and even virtual reality experiences. Users could find profiles of escorts, read reviews, and make bookings. It catered to a range of interests and preferences, with detailed filters to help users find exactly what they were looking for.

Keith’s eyes widened as he absorbed the information. He clicked on a few links, reading through the descriptions and services offered. The sheer variety was overwhelming. There were listings for everything from casual meetups to elaborate role-playing scenarios. The site promised discretion and privacy, which was likely a big draw for many users.

Keith's fingers hesitated over the keyboard before he typed "Incubus" into the search bar on the JJboys site. The results appeared almost instantly, revealing that "Incubus" was one of the top artists, specializing in requests and voice acting. Keith clicked on the profile. The page opened to a sleek, professionally designed layout, showcasing thousands of followers and top free content with thousands of likes. The featured audios had titles like "Midnight Whispers and Wet Sounds In Your Dark Room- layered sound" and "Twin Incubi Fuck You In Your Sleep- vocal doubling".

There were also pictures: a strikingly beautiful man, his face partially obscured by a delicate black lace mask. He wore a Victorian-style costume, complete with a high-collared velvet jacket, a ruffled white shirt, and a black cravat. More revealing photos displayed his toned body. A striking rose tattoo started from his lower side and snaked across his abdomen, trailing sensuously down his upper leg.  In those photos, he was completely naked, posing like a model, with the lace mask still in place. He was covered only by a sheer lace cloth, conveniently draped over his length. The size and shape of it were tantalizingly visible through the delicate fabric.

Keith noticed that Incubus was currently active, and he could send a request for a chat. His cursor lingered over the chat button, his heart pounding in his chest. His hands started to tremble as he contemplated what to do next. Unable to muster the courage to initiate a conversation, he instead clicked on one of the top free audios. The voice that emerged from his headset was deep and seductive, sending a shiver down his spine. Overwhelmed, Keith yanked off his headset just a second later, feeling anxious and short of breath. He sat back, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

He almost forgot about the party. His phone buzzed, snapping him back to reality. It was Dax, letting him know they were outside. Keith quickly closed the browser and logged off, feeling a bit disoriented.

As he walked out of the internet cafe, he tried to shake off the lingering thoughts. He couldn’t afford to let this distract him, not tonight. He spotted Dax and Lo’s car parked by the curb and jogged over to them.

"Hey, ready to party?" Dax called out, grinning from the driver’s seat.

Keith forced a smile, trying to push the thoughts to the back of his mind. "Yeah, let’s do this."

He climbed into the back seat, and they took off towards the frat house. Keith tried to focus on the excitement of the night ahead, but the nagging curiosity lingered in the back of his mind. 

The car ride was filled with laughter and banter, as Dax and Lo shared stories about their day and hyped up the party. By the time they arrived at the party, he felt more relaxed, ready to enjoy the night and temporarily forget the unsettling curiosity that had led him to the internet cafe.

As they entered the bustling frat house, Keith was greeted by the thumping bass of the music and the lively chatter of partygoers. He took a deep breath, letting the energy of the party envelop him. For the next few hours, he’d focus on having fun and enjoying the moment. The questions and uncertainties could wait until another time.

Chapter 4

The party at the frat house was in full swing. The pulsating bass vibrated through the walls and the wild energy of college students letting loose was infectious. Keith was in his element, navigating through the crowd with a confident ease, while Lo and Dax quickly found themselves caught up in the chaotic fun.

From the upper floors, some overly enthusiastic partygoers decided to add to the mayhem by pouring beer on the people downstairs. Keith felt a cold splash and looked up just in time to see a torrent of beer cascading down, drenching him from head to toe. He laughed it off, shaking his head and running his fingers through his now soaked hair. "Guess I’m getting a free beer shower tonight!" he joked to himself.

Keith spotted a girl struggling with her phone, trying to call a taxi. Her friend was slumped over, vomiting in the driveway. Keith approached her and offered to help. "Hey, need some assistance?" he asked.

She looked relieved. "Yes, please. I can’t get through to the taxi service, and she really needs to get home."

Keith took the phone, efficiently arranging for a taxi. As they waited, he kept the girl company, making small talk and ensuring her friend was okay. When the taxi finally arrived, he helped them both into the car, making sure they were safe.

Back inside, the chaos continued. A guy had decided to strip naked and run around the garden, his underwear on his head like a helmet. His friends chased after him, trying to catch and dress him, but the sight was too funny. Keith couldn’t help but laugh as the guy evaded capture, darting between bushes and garden furniture.

Keith headed upstairs to find a bathroom, feeling the urgent need to pee. He opened the door, only to stumble upon Dax receiving a blowjob from a girl. Keith quickly backed out, muttering apologies. "My bad, my bad! Didn’t see anything!"

Dax’s muffled voice called out, "No worries, man! Happens to the best of us!"

Shaking his head, Keith wandered back downstairs and saw Lo had fallen asleep on a girl on the couch. She didn’t seem to mind, gently stroking his hair as he snored softly against her shoulder. Keith chuckled, snapping a quick photo to show Lo in the morning.

Around 2 am, the party was still going strong, but Keith found a quiet corner to check his phone again. Incubus was online. His heart raced as he decided to send a message, knowing that messages were paid in general. He typed out, "Hey, can I pay for some photos?"

A reply came quickly. "Of course, what kind of photos are you interested in?"

Keith’s fingers trembled as he replied, "I wish to see that tattoo uncensored."

Incubus responded with a price, and Keith confirmed. Moments later, a series of photos arrived, each more revealing than the last. 

"You have an amazing voice. How long have you been doing this?"

"Thank you. I’ve been in the business for 2 months now. It’s been quite the journey," Incubus replied. "So, tell me about yourself. What brings you to my profile? What would you like to see in the future?"

Keith’s heart skipped a beat. "Just curious. You caught my eye, and I had to see more. I'm not sure what I want to see. Maybe taking off that suit slowly while talking."

The party’s noise faded into the background as Keith became engrossed in the chat. By the time he realized how much time had passed, it was well past 3 am. He knew he had to leave soon.

"Thanks for chatting with me tonight. I didn’t expect to enjoy this so much," Keith typed.

"Hit me up anytime. I enjoyed our conversation too," came the reply.

After a while, Keith decided it was time to leave the party. With Lo sound asleep on a couch in the frat house and Dax passed out in his car, Keith opted to take the first bus home. The cool night air helped clear his head slightly as he walked to the bus stop, his thoughts still swirling from the evening's events.

The bus ride home was quiet, the streets mostly deserted at this late hour. Keith leaned his head against the window, the vibrations of the moving bus lulling him into a half-sleep. When he finally reached his stop, he stumbled off the bus and made his way back to the house he shared with his roommates.

Upon entering, he noticed that the house was dark and silent. Andres was back from his night shift and probably sleeping in his room, as the door was closed. Keith stood for a moment in front of the door, swaying slightly in his drunken haze. Without much thought, he knocked, forgetting it was nearly 4 in the morning.

After a few moments, the door opened, revealing a very sleepy and surprised Andres. "Keith? Weren't you supposed to be at the party?"

Keith didn't respond. Instead, he simply stepped into the room and collapsed onto Andres' bed, instantly falling asleep. Andres sighed, rubbing his eyes as he looked at his passed-out friend. He tried to wake Keith up, shaking him gently. "Keith, you can't sleep here. Come on, get up."

But Keith was dead to the world, completely unresponsive. Realizing it was a lost cause, Andres sighed again and gave up. He carefully climbed into the bed next to Keith, making sure not to disturb him too much. Andres lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling and wondering what had led Keith to his room. Eventually, the exhaustion took over, and he fell asleep beside his roommate.

Chapter 5

Some days later Keith was sitting at his desk, absorbed in his project, when Andres quietly knocked on the door and peeked in.

"Keith, are you sleeping?" Andres asked, his voice low and curious.

"No, I'm just correcting my project," Keith replied, glancing up with a small smile.

Andres stepped into the room and glanced at Keith's paper. "Wow, 'The Art of Mystical Dance Through the Ages'? You’re really into this kind of thing. Do you want me to go? Am I distracting you from your work?"

"No. I just finished what I wanted to do for today," Keith assured him, stretching his arms above his head.

Andres' expression suddenly shifted into an evil, sultry grin as he approached Keith and whispered, "Then... will you drink stolen wine with me, Lo, and Dax?"

Keith raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do you mean, 'stolen'?"

Andres chuckled. "I mean that me and Lo secretly took it from VVN's reception hall."

Keith's curiosity piqued further. "Secretly took it?"

"Yeah, today VVN called Lo to collect his things. We went with him. VVN refused to pay him for the last six months. Dax made a huge scene. They called security and threw us out. But before that, we saw this wine standing in a gift basket in the hall. I looked at it, then at Lo, then back at it. And before I knew it, it was in my arms, safe and sound."

"You guys are crazy..." Keith started laughing and followed Andres into the kitchen.

Candles were lit everywhere, casting a warm glow. Lo and Dax were already sitting on the floor, drinking.

Lo threw his hands in the air, hooraying and pointing at Keith. "Yeah, Key Key!"

Andres held a plastic cup, half full of wine, in front of Keith and added, "Guess what. We only have two plastic cups. Sooo... you're going to drink from mine."

"He can drink from ours, too," suggested Lo, winking at Keith.

"No. Hands off. I am the only one who will learn Keith's secrets," joked Andres.

They started taking sips turn and turn about.

"It's good drinking wine at night. Less interference in the atmosphere," whispered Dax ominously in a low tone that made Lo and Andres move closer to each other, standing arm in arm.

"Eh?" Lo made a questioning noise.

"Oh, you know what they say in the village I grew up in?" continued Dax with a cocky smile. "They say that when you drink wine at night, in front of a broken mirror, you will see the devil."

Keith nodded. They said something similar in the village he grew up in, too.

"There must be a cycle. Our knees must be touching. And one of us has to hold the mirror," added Keith.

"Are you sure this is a necessary precaution and not just you being kinky?" laughed Andres.

"Do you want something weird to touch your leg?" asked Keith, looking at Andres dead serious. Andres's eyes widened as he touched Keith's knee with his own. Keith made a huge effort not to laugh and added, "I thought so."

"Wanna try it?" Dax said calmly, smiling at Keith, as if believing that Keith was the only one seeing devils.

"Ok," replied Keith.

Dax took a small, broken hand mirror out of his backpack, which was sitting on a kitchen chair. Dax was known for holding onto broken things.

Keith looked into the mirror deeply. He stared for so long that he started feeling dizzy. He saw a warped version of his face and began to feel dissociated from his body. He saw everything—his features, his face, his achievements, his past, his mask, his regrets, his failures, his joyful and quiet moments, his unbroken and fragile parts, his cynical and poetic mind, all in black and white. He saw the path that took the light to reach his eyes. He saw sounds, body sensations, and smells within him, covering the dim-lit room. He started questioning whether he or the Keith in the mirror was the real Keith. He saw all that he left behind, actually behind him.

"I only see myself," he lied.

In his family, when someone died, they covered all mirrors with a white cloth. Keith took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wrapped the little mirror. "Better keep it in this, so you won’t cut your hand trying to retrieve it from your bag. Because it's broken," explained Keith. Then he added, "...Huh... guys... wh- what is that?" He decided to mess with them, looking at the transparent balcony door behind them. Suddenly, a very convenient loud noise was heard, probably from the street outside.

Dax jumped up. Lo and Andres screamed their lungs out and started hugging each other. Dax looked cautiously out of the balcony door and reassured them, "Calm the hell down, it's just a motherfucking crow that bumped on the glass door."

Keith started laughing and made a move to stand up, but Andres grabbed his hand. "Come here! You will protect me tonight, to make sure nothing possesses me."

"I would be more afraid of myself than a demon, to be honest," joked Keith.

"Take responsibility, you asshole!" Andres started wrestling with Keith and pulled him out of the kitchen.

Andres opened his bedroom door silently and threw Keith on the mattress. He then jumped over him and lay down on the inside part of the bed. He tossed a bedsheet over them and pulled it up to his head, so he would be protected from the demons.

"Whatever comes will get you first because you're on the exterior side of the bed. Everybody knows that," said Andres.

Keith smiled and fell asleep quickly, listening to Andres' steady breath.

He woke up randomly an hour later because he tossed and turned and Andres was no longer next to him. He opened his eyes and saw velvety, warm shadows getting into the room through the window. The shower was running. Keith took some imbalanced, dazed steps toward the hallway, which was misty and perfumed because someone left the bathroom door wide open.

It was an utterly pleasant, overpoweringly sweet, and surprisingly intoxicating smell that stunned and overwhelmed him. Jasmine and rose. He cast an exploratory look inside the bathroom, to see the shower curtain completely pulled to the edge, water pouring everywhere, flooding the tiled floor and Andres's nude body adorned with vapor and foam.

Keith stood there motionless and shameless, inspecting the beautiful display, taking in every detail. Andres was looking back at him expressionless and not at all agitated by Keith's presence there.

Keith whispered a clumsy and feeble apology and went back to bed. A few moments later, he felt the bed sink as Andres' weight fell next to his.

Andres was… chuckling.

"Are you excited?" Keith thought he heard him purring.

The next day, Keith apologized properly, but Andres replied, "For what?" making Keith question his sanity and wonder if he dreamed the whole thing.

Chapter 6

Keith sat in the quiet corner of the university library, his attention ostensibly focused on the thick textbook before him. It was one of those rare, tranquil moments he cherished, especially since Dax and Lo’s antics often made it impossible to study at home. The flickering thought of using the peaceful library to flirt with girls had crossed his mind, but he was not in the mood that day.

He had just turned a page when a flurry of movement caught his eye from a few tables away. A girl was struggling with a precarious tower of books, each teetering as she maneuvered them around her laptop. Keith's curiosity piqued, he discreetly observed her.

The girl was petite with a cascade of dark hair that fell over her shoulders. Her expression was one of intense concentration as she arranged her collection. Keith noticed the spines of the books, and they painted a rather intriguing picture. Titles like “Masochism and the Self” by Roy F. Baumeister, “Masochism: A Jungian View” by Lyn Cowan, and “Masochism in Modern Man” by Theodor Reik suggested she was deeply entrenched in psychological research on masochism. Amidst these clinical volumes, he spotted a familiar literature book: "Venus in Furs" by Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, the most renowned literary work with a protagonist embodying masochistic desires.

Keith found himself drawn into the puzzle of her academic inquiry. The juxtaposition of clinical texts and literature hinted at a comprehensive research project, perhaps a thesis or a significant term paper. 

After a short while, the girl gathered her things with an air of satisfaction. She closed her laptop, packed up her books, and left the library. Keith watched her go, his curiosity piqued by the intriguing selection of books she had left behind. 

Unable to resist, Keith wandered over to her vacated table. He picked up "Venus in Furs" and flipped through its pages. He set the book down and decided to explore further. Keith pulled out his laptop and started searching for more literature on masochism. 

Without fully realizing why, Keith found himself opening the messaging app again. The conversation thread with Incubus was still active. He hesitated for a moment before typing out a message: "Can I ask about the premium package?"

Keith's phone buzzed when Incubus replied  The message read: “The premium package includes a one-on-one live stream and special requests. Just send a small donation, and we can arrange everything.”

Keith’s heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t entirely sure what to ask next but decided to dive deeper into the specifics. His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he typed: “What kind of special requests can I make?”

Incubus replied quickly: “You can request specific scenarios or themes. Anything you’re curious about, we can discuss. The more detailed your request, the better I can tailor the experience.”

Keith pondered this. His earlier research and the conversations he’d been having had opened a new realm of curiosity for him. He decided to push the envelope a bit further. “Can you give me some examples of what people usually request?”

The response came almost immediately: “Common requests include role plays, themed performances, and even custom audio or video content. Some people ask for guided fantasies or scenarios they’re interested in exploring.”

Keith’s curiosity was piqued. He wanted to understand the full scope of what was offered. “Do you have any limits on what can be requested? Are there things you won’t do?”

Incubus was prompt in his reply. “There are some boundaries, of course. I won’t engage in anything harmful or illegal, and I’m not comfortable with requests that involve physical contact. I do not provide escort services, if you are interested in that I would gladly redirect you to some of the best JJ escorts. Beyond that, I’m pretty open to discussing what you have in mind.”

Keith’s mind raced with possibilities. He decided to be straightforward. “How does the one-on-one live stream work? Is it interactive?”

“Yes,” Incubus explained. “During the live stream, you can interact with me directly. You can give me feedback in real-time, suggest changes to what’s happening, or request specific actions. It’s all about creating an experience that meets your expectations.”

Keith felt a weird excitement. "How much is the donation for the premium package?”

Incubus replied with a clear breakdown: “The standard donation for the full package is $150. It covers the live stream, any special requests, and a set of premium photos or videos. If you have something more specific in mind, we can discuss adjusting the donation accordingly.”

Keith considered this information carefully. He wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to request yet. “What if I want to add something extra to the package? Is that possible?”

“Yes,” Incubus responded. “You can always add extras. If you have particular fantasies or additional requests, we can adjust the donation based on what you need.”

Keith typed: “Okay, I’m interested in the full package. What’s the best way to send the donation?”

Incubus provided the details for the donation process, including payment methods and a secure way to transfer the funds.

Keith sat back in his chair, staring blankly at his laptop screen. His mind raced. He couldn’t quite grasp what he was trying to achieve with this venture. Everything felt a bit surreal and out of control. His stomach churned, and he had trouble swallowing as if a knot had formed there.

He tried to rationalize his decision to himself. He convinced himself that he was just going to pay for the premium package but not request anything specific. The idea was to explore the content available—premium audios, images, and videos. That’s all he would do. No additional requests, no special arrangements. Just a straightforward look at what Incubus offered.

He sighed, trying to calm his nerves. He prepared to make the payment, telling himself it was just a harmless curiosity. “I’ll keep it simple,” he muttered under his breath, clicking through the payment process. His fingers were slightly trembling.

Keith completed the transaction and waited for the confirmation. As he sat there, waiting for the access to unlock, he started feeling the panic setting in. 

"What the fuck am I doing?" he thought . He took a deep breath, shaking off the anxiety. 

As the screen finally updated to show that he had access to the premium content, Keith's heart started beating like crazy. 

"Just a quick look," Keith thought, trying to convince himself that this was merely a moment of curiosity and nothing more.

Chapter 7

Keith sat in the ice cream shop, his eyes darting to the door every few minutes. The girl he was supposed to meet for their date had yet to show up, and he was starting to feel like he was in a bad rom-com. The shop was quaint, with pastel-colored walls and cheerful music playing in the background. The aroma of freshly made waffle cones filled the air, making the setting almost perfect for a date—if only his date would actually arrive.

After waiting for nearly an hour and finishing his sundae, he sighed and pulled out his phone. He typed a quick message to Andres: “Hey, want some free ice cream? My date bailed.”

Andres replied almost instantly: “Free ice cream? I never say no to that! Be there in 10.”

Keith smiled despite his disappointment. At least he wouldn’t have to leave the shop feeling completely let down.

True to his word, Andres arrived in ten minutes, his lean frame sauntering through the door. He was wearing his usual assortment of accessories: a stylish hat, a pair of trendy glasses, and an array of necklaces and rings that somehow all looked good together. His androgynous look was striking, and Keith couldn't help but notice how many heads turned when Andres walked in.

“Hey,” Andres greeted, sliding into the booth across from Keith. “So, what happened?”

Keith shrugged, pushing a menu towards Andres. “She never showed up. Figured I’d at least make the best of it and get some company.”

“Her loss,” Andres said, scanning the menu. “This place looks great. Thanks for the ice cream.”

Keith chuckled. “No problem. Order whatever you want.”

Andres eventually settled on a triple scoop of mint chocolate chip, cookie dough, and strawberry. As he took his first lick, Keith couldn’t help but notice how deliberate and slow Andres was with his ice cream. Each lick was languid, as if he were savoring every bit of the treat.

“So, how’s college treating you?” Andres asked, breaking Keith’s focus.

“It's alright. Just trying to balance everything—classes, studying, social life. You know how it is,” Keith replied, tearing his eyes away from Andres’s ice cream.

“Yeah, I get it. My job at the diner is kicking my ass, but it pays the bills,” Andres said, his voice taking on a husky, relaxed tone.

Keith nodded. “I can imagine. Must be tough working nights and then going to classes during the day.”

Andres shrugged, taking another slow lick of his ice cream. “It’s not too bad. Keeps me busy, and I like the people I work with. Except for the occasional jackass.”

Keith laughed. “Like the ones at that frat party you didn’t want to go to?”

“Exactly,” Andres said with a smirk. “Those guys are the worst. No offense.”

“None taken,” Keith replied, watching as Andres’s tongue glided over the ice cream again. He tried to ignore the weird feeling in his stomach. Maybe it was just the leftover disappointment from his failed date.

“You know,” Andres said, looking thoughtful as he licked his ice cream. “I’ve never understood why people don’t just say if they’re not interested. Saves everyone a lot of trouble.”

Keith nodded. “Yeah, it would’ve been nice to know. But I guess it’s just part of the game.”

They continued chatting, with Andres sharing stories from the diner and Keith talking about his classes and the pressures of keeping up with his art projects. All the while, Keith found his eyes drifting back to Andres’ methodical enjoyment of his ice cream. There was something oddly captivating about it. 

Keith just couldn't stop looking at Andres's lips and tongue. As Andres savored his ice cream, Keith noticed for the first time a small lip piercing glinting in the light. It added an unexpected edge to Andres' already striking appearance. His lips were soft, with a natural rosy tint that made them all the more captivating. Keith hoped Andres didn't notice his staring. Suddenly a question popped in Keith's head: How would that small ring feel if you get a blowjob from that sweet guy? A vivid picture crossed his mind... Andres wearing only a leather harness, deepthroating a random dude that was tied and blindfolded on a bed.

He quickly looked away. He felt awful about the picture that had just crossed his mind. It wasn't right. Yet, the image lingered, causing a strange mix of guilt and curiosity to settle in his stomach. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to push the thought away.

"You pierced your lip?" Keith asked as matter-of-factly as possible, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Andres looked up from his ice cream and nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Ah, yeah, I did it yesterday."

Keith forced a casual nod, though his mind was still reeling from the image he'd conjured earlier. "Looks good," he said, hoping his voice sounded steady. "Where did you get it done?"

"There's this cool place downtown," Andres replied. "The guy who did mine was really professional."

Keith nodded, intrigued. "I've been thinking about getting my eyebrow and ear pierced," he admitted.

Andres' eyes lit up. "They do tattoos too, if you can handle the pain."

Keith, caught up in the moment and not fully thinking, blurted out, "That wouldn't be a problem. I love the pain." 

Suddenly, silence fell between them as Andres looked at him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

Keith quickly backpedaled, his face heating up. "I mean, I have a really high pain tolerance. That's what I meant. That came out wrong." He laughed awkwardly, trying to defuse the tension.

Andres chuckled, the awkwardness dissipating. "Good to know, Keith. Good to know."

Keith and Andres ended up returning home by midnight. As they entered the apartment, they were greeted by the sounds of Dax and Lo arguing in the living room.

"I’m telling you, we should order ethnic cuisine tonight," Dax insisted, waving his phone in the air.

"Burgers. We’re getting burgers," Lo countered, arms crossed stubbornly. "I’m not in the mood for something fancy."

Andres grinned and sat down with them. "Guys, how about a compromise?"

Keith, feeling the weight of the evening and the confusion over his thoughts, excused himself. "I'm gonna head to bed, guys. I'm wiped out."

"Night, Keith," Andres called after him, already caught up in the discussion about their fusion burger plan.

Keith made his way to his room, closing the door quietly behind him. He slipped under the covers and took out his phone, the glow of the screen illuminating his face in the dark. He navigated to the JJboys website, his heart pounding.

Incubus wasn't online, but a notification caught his eye. A new premium recording had been uploaded. It was titled "Demon Servant Teasing His Huge Cock"

Keith hesitated, his mind racing. He told himself not to listen to it, but the temptation was too strong. His thumb hovered over the play button, and before he could second-guess himself, he pressed it. The deep, sultry voice of Incubus filled his ears through the handsfree earbuds. He closed his eyes, letting the voice wash over him.

Chapter 8

Keith woke up in the middle of the night, feeling disoriented. His earbuds were still in, and his phone was lying next to him, the screen faintly glowing. It was 3 a.m. He pulled out the earbuds and rubbed his eyes, the recording still echoing in his mind. 

Feeling a sudden urge to check the JJboys website, he opened the app and saw that Incubus was online. Hesitating for a moment, he decided to send a message: "Today's recording was amazing."

A reply came almost instantly. "Thank you, honey, always a pleasure to know my best clients enjoy my work."

Keith stared at the screen, his mind racing. He wanted to say more, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. After a lot of thinking and battling with himself, he finally typed, "I was thinking about requests, how does that work?"

Incubus responded quickly. "It's simple really. I give you permission to edit the script from the second icon to the left. The one that looks like a little pen. You write your scenario and specific things you want me to say. I calculate the price and I deliver the audio to you when it's ready."

Keith took a deep breath, reading the message several times. The idea of creating a personalized recording was both thrilling and terrifying. His hands were trembling as he navigated to the script editor.

The blank screen seemed to mock him, daring him to type out his deepest fantasies. His mind swirled with possibilities, but he was unsure where to start. Finally, he began to type, his fingers moving almost on their own.

Scenario: Intense Domination, Nipple Torture, Facefucking , Anal Play.

Description: I am dominated by you. You will tie me up, slap my cock, torture my nipples, insert a vibrator in my ass and fuck my mouth. 

Specific phrases and words: "I will play with you all night.", "I won't stop even if you cry or beg.", "Your nipples show what a whore you are. They are so hard. They need to be sucked.", "Your nipples need some hard pinching.", "What? Am I hurting your little rose buds? How about I bite them and lick off the blood?", "Lets put on a chain at those cute little nipples so I can pull them whenever I want.",  "I will stuff your cute hole.", "Your ass sucks in the toy so good, you disgusting cockslut.", "Look how you are dripping on the floor. You ruined my carpet and now you need to be punished.", "Your dick will be red when I'm done slapping it.", "You are not allowed to cum yet, you horny little bitch.", "You don't seem to shut up. Pushing my dick inside your trap would probably do the thing.", "Take it all in, feel it. You are my dirty, little plaything.", "Choke on my balls, fuck boy.", "I will fuck and stretch you like that more often, so you can learn some manners."

Sounds: Any kind of wet sounds, toy sounds and slaps would do. Also, please laugh at me.

Duration: 10-15 minutes.

He sent the script to Incubus, his anxiety spiking as he waited for a response. After a few moments, a message popped up. "Got it. Let me calculate the price for you."

Keith watched as Incubus typed, the little dots on the screen indicating a reply was coming. "For this request, it will be $50. Is that okay with you?"

Keith swallowed hard, thinking about the money. It was a lot for a recording, but the idea of hearing Incubus bring his fantasy to life was too enticing to pass up. He typed back, "That's fine."

"Great. I'll start working on it and let you know when it's ready. Thank you for your support, honey."

Keith set his phone down and lay back on his pillow, staring at the ceiling. "Have I lost my mind?" he muttered.

Chapter 9

The next evening, Keith was hunched over his desk, scribbling notes and flipping through textbooks in his bedroom. The glow of his desk lamp  illuminated the scattered pages and his laptop was open in front of him. He was deep in concentration, trying to make sense of art theory when the sudden noise from his door made him jump.

In burst Andres, his face flushed with excitement and his hands triumphantly raised above his head, holding a shiny new video game case. "Look what I got!" Andres exclaimed, practically glowing with enthusiasm.

"Wow! Is that the new Insomnia?" Keith exclaimed, eyes widening in surprise.

Andres's grin widened even further. "Yep, it sure is. I managed to snag a copy," he said, entering the room and waving the game case in the air like a trophy.

Keith shook his head in amazement. "How did you even get it? I heard people were camping out overnight just to get a chance to buy it."

Andres laughed, flopping down onto Keith's bed. "I got lucky, man. Went to this little video store on the edge of town that no one seems to know about. Walked in right as they were putting out a new batch of games."

"That's insane," Keith said, still in disbelief. "But it's got to be like 75-80 bucks now! How did you afford it?"

Andres shrugged casually. "Got a really good tip at work yesterday. Figured I'd treat myself."

Keith's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Dude, we have to play it. Right now."

"That's what I was thinking," Andres said, grinning. "Let's fire it up."

Without a second thought, Andres threw himself onto Keith’s bed, setting the game case down with a dramatic flourish. “Come on."

Keith quickly cleared his desk, stacking his books to one side. He grabbed his gaming controller and shuffled over to the bed, where Andres was already setting up the console. The excitement in the room was palpable as the game loaded on the screen.

As the game’s eerie intro began to play, Keith and Andres dove into their virtual world. The game was known for its spine-chilling atmosphere and intense scares, and the duo relished every moment of it. They took turns playing, navigating through dark corridors, solving puzzles, and squealing at the jump scares. Laughter and shouts of surprise filled the room as they encountered creepy creatures and eerie sound effects.

Hours slipped by unnoticed. Snacks were scattered around, and empty soda cans formed a small pile on the floor as the game consumed their attention. 

At one point, Andres leaned closer to the screen, his eyes wide with concentration. “Dude, look at this part! I can’t believe we’re finally playing this.”

Keith laughed, his eyes glued to the screen. “I know, right? And I thought I’d miss out on the launch.”

They played through the night, occasionally swapping stories about their day, discussing the game’s best moments, and trash-talking each other in good humor. 

Around 2:30 a.m., Andres, looking bleary-eyed but still pumped with excitement, glanced at his phone and groaned. “Dude, it’s already after 2 a.m. We’ve been at this for hours!”

Keith chuckled, his own eyes struggling to stay open. “Yeah, time flew by. I guess we got a bit carried away.”

“Definitely worth it though,” Andres replied with a satisfied yawn. “This game is amazing. But we should probably hit the hay before we crash.”

Keith nodded in agreement. As they powered down the console, the adrenaline rush of the game lingered. The once exciting gameplay now seemed to cast a shadow of unease over them. The quiet of the room felt eerie, and their earlier bravado was replaced with a creeping sense of dread.

Keith glanced at the bed, then at Andres, who was looking equally unsettled. “You know, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if we just crashed here together. I mean, after all that, I don’t think I can face the dark alone.”

Andres gave a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, I’m with you.”

They both laughed awkwardly, the shared fear making the situation feel more natural. They settled onto the bed, their earlier excitement replaced by a sense of comfort in each other’s presence. Keith reached for the blanket, pulling it over them as they lay side by side.The bed was small, and they found themselves pressed close together, their previous enthusiasm replaced by a soothing companionship. The game’s unsettling atmosphere lingered in their minds, and the safety of shared warmth felt reassuring. They talked quietly for a few minutes, their voices low as they recounted their favorite moments from the game.

Eventually, the conversation dwindled, and both fell into a deep, exhausted sleep...

Keith had that nightmare again.

“Keith,” a deep, chilling voice whispered. Andres’ voice.

“Wake up.” Keith told himself.

“Do you know what I will do to you, Keith?” the voice spoke again.

“Wake up.” Keith ordered himself.

Something was there. The voice seemed to seep from the darkest corner of the room.

"No. Wake up!" Keith started to panick. 

The shadow moved closer.

"Wake up, damn it!" Keith could not move. 

The presence loomed right next to his ear.

“You will beg for me to fuck you. And I will laugh, walking away, not even touching you. You are so disgusting,” the voice taunted.

“Ah!” Keith jolted awake, his breath catching in his throat. He scrambled out of bed, heart pounding, and fumbled for the small lamp on his nightstand. 

The clock read 5:19 a.m., and the room was cloaked in oppressive darkness. His vision swam as he tried to steady himself, hands trembling. 

Andres was sprawled on the other side of the bed, facing away. Keith staggered into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water, his hands still shaking uncontrollably.

A minute passed.

“Keith?” Andres’ groggy voice came from the dim doorway. “What’s going on?”

“I...” Keith stammered, unable to fully articulate his fear.

“There’s dried blood on your arms...” Andres said, voice edged with concern as he approached.

Keith’s gaze fell to his arms, where dark bruises were already forming. He noticed the blood under his fingernails and felt a surge of dread. The sight of his own injuries made his stomach churn. He must have inflicted them on himself, scratching and clawing at the sheets in his sleep.

“I heard you,” Andres said, stepping closer with worried eyes.

“You should have woken me up,” Keith said, his voice tight with suppressed panic.

“I wasn’t sure what was happening. I thought you might be—” Andres hesitated, “—you know...”

“Are you serious? Would I really do that with you in the room?” Keith snapped, a mix of frustration and embarrassment in his voice.

Andres’ eyes widened slightly. “Do what? I meant a wet dream." Andres clarified.

The realization hit Keith like a cold wave. He felt ashamed. He thought that Andres implied Keith was jerking off right next to him.

“Let’s just go back to sleep. I’ll wake you if you make any more sexy noises,” Andres said, trying to lighten the mood but failing to hide his concern.

“Those were not... nevermind.” Keith replied, his voice strained.

He lay back down, but the nightmare’s grip on him was far from loosened. The room felt suffocatingly close, every shadow and creak in the house magnified in the darkness. His mind was haunted by the vivid, menacing dream. The unsettling image of something lurking just beyond the edge of the bed, ready to reach out and touch him, left him feeling exposed and terrified. 

The thought of Andres next to him only intensified his fear. Keith’s heart raced, and he couldn’t shake the awful feeling that clung to him. He was really disturbed by the picture he created in his mind. Keith jerking himself off and Andres sleeping right next to him

This needed to end.

Chapter 10

It was another typical Friday night, dubbed “movie night” by Keith, Dax, Lo, and Andres. The living room was a chaos of pizza boxes, beer cans, and laughter, as they gathered around the television for their weekly ritual. The aroma of pepperoni and melted cheese filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of beer. Keith sat on the couch, flanked by Dax and Lo, while Andres lounged in an armchair nearby.

Tonight's selection was a high-octane action movie, packed with guns, mafia encounters, and thrilling car chases. The screen flickered with scenes of the protagonists evading the police, bullets flying, and engines roaring as they tore through city streets. The dialogue was punctuated by explosions and gunfire, adding to the room’s energetic vibe.

"Man, did you see that?" Dax exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement. "That car just did a full 360 spin!"

Lo laughed, nearly spilling his beer. "Yeah, but it's so unrealistic! There's no way they'd get away from the cops like that."

"Who cares about realism? It's awesome!" Dax retorted, tossing a pizza crust at Lo.

Keith, however, found his attention drifting away from the movie. His gaze kept returning to Andres, who was intently watching the screen and occasionally taking swigs from his beer bottle. Keith couldn't help but notice the way Andres’ Adam’s apple bobbed with each gulp, and for the first time, he paid attention to the long eyelashes that framed his friend’s eyes. 

Trying to shift his focus, Keith shuffled on the sofa, but the allure of Andres’ presence was magnetic. He desperately wanted to sit closer, finding flimsy excuses to change his seat. Eventually, he saw an opportunity and seized it.

"Oh no, I spilled my beer!" Keith exclaimed, standing up and grabbing a wet sponge from the kitchen. He quickly dabbed at the sofa, cleaning up the spill and leaving it to dry.

"Smooth move, slick," Dax teased, not missing a beat.

Keith ignored him, feigning innocence as he took the now-vacant spot next to Andres. He made sure to position himself so that their legs and arms brushed against each other. The contact sent a thrill through him, one he was careful to hide behind a casual facade.

As the movie reached a particularly loud and chaotic scene, their upstairs neighbor, notorious for being a complainer, had apparently had enough. The doorbell rang, and Lo sighed heavily, getting up to answer it. A few minutes later, he returned, looking exasperated.

"That upstairs bitch did it again," Lo announced, flopping back onto the couch. "Called the cops on us for nighttime disturbances."

"Seriously?" Dax groaned. "It's not even that late!"

"Well, we better keep it down," Andres suggested, his voice calm and measured.

The rest of the movie passed without incident, though Keith’s mind was barely on the plot. He was hyper-aware of every subtle touch, every shared breath. When the credits finally rolled, Keith stretched and let out a yawn, trying to disguise his nerves.

"I’m heading to bed," Keith announced, then turned to Andres with what he hoped was a nonchalant smile. "Wanna play some video games before crashing?"

Andres shrugged, a small grin playing at his lips. "Sure, why not."

They moved to Keith’s room, where Keith booted up his console. The familiar sounds of the game loaded, providing a comforting backdrop. They played for a while, laughing and competing, the earlier tension from the movie night slowly dissipating. 

As the clock ticked towards 3 AM, Keith felt a mix of exhaustion and contentment. He glanced at Andres, who seemed equally tired but in good spirits.

"Hey, you can crash here if you want," Keith suggested, trying to keep his tone casual. "No point in heading back to your room this late."

Andres hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Keith’s heart raced with excitement. 

"Oh, I saw a girl leaving early in the morning," Andres continued, his tone light and teasing. "Lo and I were chuckling after she left. You know, because you’re the biggest lover boy in the house. Even a bigger manslut than Dax."

Keith forced a smile, though his heart wasn’t in it. He chuckled softly, trying to keep up the facade. "Yeah, it was a great night. We had a lot of fun."

The truth was far less glamorous. The girl had followed Keith back home after a night of heavy drinking. They made out for a while, but Keith had been too drunk to perform, the mood quickly souring. She’d slept over, and in the awkward light of morning, she’d left without much fanfare. But Keith wasn’t about to admit that to Andres. Andres needed to believe that Keith was always in control, always the perfect partner in bed.

"Well, you sure have a way with the ladies," Andres said, his voice carrying a hint of admiration. "I guess you’ve got all the moves."

Keith nodded in the darkness, his smile still in place, though it felt like a mask. "Yeah, something like that."

The room fell silent again, and Keith stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. He hoped Andres couldn’t hear the truth in his heartbeat or see through the lies. There was no room for vulnerability here, not now. Andres needed to know one thing about Keith: that Keith was always on top of his game, always the guy who knew exactly what to do. And as long as he could maintain that image, he could keep pretending everything was fine.

After a few moments of silence, Keith took a deep breath and turned his head slightly towards Andres. "So, uh, have you had any luck with dating?" he asked, trying to sound casual but unable to mask the curiosity in his voice.

Andres chuckled softly, the sound warm and comforting in the darkness. "You mean, have I been getting laid?" he replied, a teasing note in his voice.

Keith managed a laugh. "Yeah, something like that."

Andres was quiet for a moment, as if considering his response. "Well, there's someone I've been seeing," he said finally. "We're just getting to know each other. Nothing serious yet. I like to get to know someone before jumping into bed with them."

Keith felt awful after Andres' revelation. A sense of failure washed over him, making him feel insignificant and inadequate. He couldn't pinpoint why he felt so terrible, but it gnawed at him, a persistent ache in his chest. 

Eventually, they fell asleep, both sprawled out on the bed, exhausted. 

Chapter 11

Keith woke up at 6 am, feeling the morning light creeping through the curtains. He realized he was hard and Andres was snuggling beside him.

“Good morning,” Andres mumbled, his deep and husky voice contrasting with his delicate features.

“Why do you always fall asleep faster than me?” Keith complained, feeling a bit awkward.

“I bet it's because it smells like you in here,” Andres said, yawning.

“What?” Keith was very surprised by the answer.

“Your smell is really mellow for a guy,” explained Andres.

“Excuse me?” Keith tried to hide a smile, thinking that Andres was flirting.

“Have you ever smelled the other guys? Awful,” Andres laughed.

“But they always shower,” countered Keith, stretching in his bed.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s their natural smell,” clarified Andres.

“That’s why you sleep with me?” Keith asked, confused.

Andres chuckled but said nothing, giving Keith a puzzling and amused look. He then started changing, not caring that Keith was there. That was because Keith had assured him many times that he was the straightest straight guy to ever exist and that he was so straight that circles turned into squares when he passed by.

Despite that, the straightest of all straight guys bit his lip and gulped heavily when he saw his friend in just his boxers. "Nice tattoo," he commented.

“Oh, that’s covering a scar,” said Andres.

“A scar?” asked Keith.

“Yeah. Got it as soon as I turned 18. But the scar was there since I was 16,” replied Andres.

“Um, a surgery?” asked Keith.

“Stitches,” said Andres.

“Stitches? You fell off your motorbike or something?” Keith asked one question after another without thinking too much.

“A troublemaker ambushed me as we were leaving high school and attacked me because he had found out I was gay. When I fought back, he pulled out a switchblade." replied Andres, and Keith's eyes widened in shock.

Andres arched his back and stretched, getting ready to head to the bathroom. Before going to the door, he leaned over Keith, ran his fingers through Keith's hair, and then traced the back of Keith’s neck with his fingertips, sending shivers down his spine. “Your bed hair looks sexy,” he whispered.

Keith blushed, watching as Andres finally left the room.

After getting dressed and grabbing their backpacks, Keith and Andres left the house together, heading towards their respective classes. The campus was already buzzing with students, the morning sun casting long shadows on the pathways.

As they walked, Keith couldn't help but steal glances at Andres, still thinking about their conversation earlier. Andres seemed relaxed, chatting about some new music he’d discovered.

"See you at lunch?" Andres asked as they approached the main quad where their paths diverged.

"Yeah, see you," Keith replied, forcing a smile.

Keith watched as Andres headed toward the engineering building, his mind still replaying the morning’s events. He shook his head, trying to focus on the day ahead, and made his way to the lecture hall for his art class.

The class was engaging, with Professor Reynolds diving into the intricacies of art nouveau. Keith took diligent notes, but his mind occasionally drifted back to Andres. 

When the class ended, Keith packed up his things and stepped outside, immediately surrounded by a group of girls from his class. 

As they walked, the girls chattered about the upcoming midterms and weekend plans. Keith nodded and laughed along with them.

One of the girls seemed particularly interested in him, laughing a bit too loudly at his jokes and leaning in a bit too close. They were discussing their favorite classes when Keith's attention was drawn to something in the distance.

On top of the Classical Studies building, he spotted Andres standing on the rooftop, camera in hand, taking photos. Keith's steps faltered, his eyes fixed on Andres. The girls noticed and Emma asked, “Keith, why did you stop?”

Keith didn’t respond. His gaze was locked on Andres, who seemed to be engaged in a lively interaction with another man. They stood perilously close to the edge, their body language suggesting familiarity. It looked like a date.

A surge of anger and frustration rose within Keith, confusing him. He watched as Andres took pictures of the man, then showed him the shots on the camera. The man laughed, and Andres smiled back.

Keith’s frustration turned to a boiling point. He mumbled an excuse to the girls, “I, uh, just remembered I have a very important meeting with a professor in the Classical Studies building. I totally forgot about it.”

The girls looked confused. Emma asked, “Why would you pick a course from Classical Studies? Aren’t those courses really difficult?”

Keith quickly responded, “I’ve always been interested in classic literature.” In truth, the only books Keith had ever read in his life were manga and comics. 

Before they could question him further, he turned and headed straight for the Classical Studies building. He entered, practically running up the stairs before opting for the elevator. His heart pounded as he ascended to the rooftop where the café bar was located. Many students went there for dates, and it seemed Andres was no exception.

The doors opened, and he stepped out, scanning the area. He spotted Andres and the man near the edge, still engrossed in their conversation. Keith approached, forcing a casual demeanor.

“Hey, Andres!” he called out, feigning surprise. “Didn’t expect to see you up here!”

Andres turned, a bit startled but then smiled. “Keith! What brings you here?”

Keith shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “Just needed a break from studying. Thought I’d grab a coffee. Mind if I join you guys?”

The other man glanced at Andres, who nodded. “Sure, why not?” Andres replied.

Keith made sure to stay close, inserting himself into their conversation. He asked about the photos, about the view, anything to keep the attention on him. He wasn’t going to leave Andres alone with this guy, not when every laugh and shared look between them made Keith’s blood boil.

Chapter 12

Keith and Andres left the rooftop café bar after their "unexpected" encounter, heading back home from the university. They walked down the bustling street, the sounds of students chatting and cars honking in the distance. Both of them carried their books, notes, and backpacks, the weight of the day evident in their slightly hunched shoulders.

Keith, trying to lighten the mood, began recounting his day with a playful tone. “Man, you should’ve seen it today. The girls were all over me! It was like I was a rock star or something,” he said, laughing and mimicking the gestures of the girls vying for his attention. “I’m starting to think it’s the new haircut. Or maybe all that time at the gym is finally paying off. You can actually see some definition in my muscles now,” he added, flexing his arm and grinning.

Andres, initially silent, seemed lost in thought as he listened. They reached the bus stop and sat down on the bench, waiting for their ride. Keith continued his humorous anecdotes, but Andres’ mind was elsewhere.

After a few moments of silence, Andres suddenly turned to Keith. “Were you trying to actively cockblock me today?” he asked, his tone direct and serious.

Keith’s confident facade faltered. He stuttered, trying to find the right words. “W-what? No, man. Why would I do that? No bro would try to cockblock his bro,” he managed to say, forcing a smile and attempting to sound casual.

Andres studied Keith for a moment, his expression unreadable. “It looked like you were trying to impress my date,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of accusation.

Keith felt a pang of guilt but quickly tried to redirect the conversation. “Come on, why would I do that? Besides, why don’t you ever take photos with me and the guys?” he asked, attempting to shift the focus to another topic.

Andres raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden change in topic. “What do you mean?” he asked, slightly intrigued.

Keith shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “You’re always taking pictures of everything and everyone, but you never take any with us. Why is that?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Andres sighed, leaning back on the bench and looking up at the sky. “I don’t know. I guess I see you guys every day, and I don’t think about it. Plus, candid moments are more my style,” he explained.

Keith nodded, understanding but still feeling a bit uneasy about the earlier accusation. “Well, maybe we should have more of those candid moments together,” he suggested, hoping to ease the tension.

Andres smiled faintly, the corners of his lips curling up. “Yeah, maybe we should,” he agreed.

The bus arrived, and they boarded, finding seats towards the back. As the bus rumbled down the street, Keith glanced at Andres, who was staring out the window, lost in thought.

Keith cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “You know, photography is fascinating,” he began. “The way you can capture light, shadow, and emotion in a single frame... it's like painting with a camera."

Andres nodded politely, though his interest seemed minimal. Keith, not noticing, continued. “Have you ever tried black and white artistic nudes?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Andres looked surprised by the question, his eyebrows raising slightly. "Uh, no, not really. It’s not my thing," he replied, his tone cautious.

Keith tried to keep his voice steady. "I mean, it's such a classic subject in art. The human form, with all its curves and lines... it's beautiful, right?" he continued, trying to gauge Andres' reaction.

Andres shrugged. "I guess. But I prefer other subjects," he said, his tone light but clearly wanting to shift away from the topic.

"I just wondered if you ever thought about it. You know, capturing something... personal." Keith felt a knot in his stomach, unsure why he was pushing this conversation. 

Andres gave him a curious look but didn't say anything.

Keith realized he was trying to start a certain conversation, but he didn’t know what he wanted to hear. He didn't even know why he had done all those things earlier—rushing to the rooftop café bar, interrupting Andres' date. He told himself it was possessiveness over his good friend. Yeah, that’s what it was.

As Keith and Andres stepped off the bus and approached their apartment building, they were both relieved to finally be home. They opened the door to their apartment ready to relax, but the scene that greeted them was anything but serene.

The living room looked like a tornado had hit it. Muddy paw prints were scattered across the floor, splattered across the walls, and even smeared across the furniture. 

Dax and Lo were in the middle of a chaotic struggle with a tiny, brown puppy, who was clearly having the time of its life. The puppy darted around the room with boundless energy, its fur coated in thick layers of mud. Dax was chasing it with a towel, looking both exasperated and amused. Lo was armed with a bottle of shampoo and a small bucket of water, trying desperately to catch the puppy and give it a bath.

"Get back here, you little rascal!" Dax shouted, his voice full of frustration as he slipped on a patch of mud and almost fell.

The puppy yipped happily and zigzagged around the room, oblivious to the chaos it was causing. Mud splashed everywhere as it jumped onto the couch, knocking over a lamp and sending it crashing to the floor.

Keith and Andres stood in stunned silence, their jaws dropped in disbelief. 

"Hey, you two," Keith finally managed to say, trying to stifle his laughter. "What happened here?"

Lo, who had been trying to catch the puppy and was now sitting in a puddle of water and mud, looked up sheepishly. "Uh, we were... giving the new puppy a bath," he said, his face flushed with embarrassment. 

Andres, still wide-eyed, glanced at Lo. "Were we even allowed to have a dog in the house?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious and a bit alarmed.

Lo shrugged, looking uncertain. "I'm not really sure," he admitted, "but we figured we'd give it a try. It’s been, uh, a bit more challenging than we expected."

The puppy, sensing that it had achieved its goal of turning the apartment into a disaster zone, finally stopped running and began chewing on the corner of a couch cushion.

"Well, it looks like you’ve managed to turn the place into a mud pit," Andres said, trying to suppress his grin.

Dax, now sitting on the floor and looking defeated, sighed heavily. "You have no idea how hard it is to bathe a puppy that thinks it’s a racing car."

Keith couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. "Looks like you guys have had a pretty eventful day. Maybe you should have started with a bath before letting him loose in here."

Lo gave a tired laugh. "Yeah, you could say that twice."

As they cleaned up the mess and tried to corral the muddy puppy, Keith and Andres exchanged amused glances. Despite the awkwardness and confusion, they were still friends, and for now, that was enough.

Chapter 13

As Keith settled into bed that night, the exhaustion from the day’s events quickly overcame him. He fell into a deep sleep. And then he saw it... 

A windowless, photographic room, bathed in a reddish hue, radiated a sense of heat. The walls were adorned with photos—either faceless, dark figures or explicit, naked bodies.

“Is it open?” Andres asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

“No, go away,” Keith replied tersely.

“I bet you’ll open up sooner or later,” Andres teased.

“Go away,” Keith demanded, his irritation palpable.

“You and I both know this will never happen,” Andres said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

The door handle began to jiggle wildly.

“Actually, you know what?” Andres continued in a sardonic tone, “I have the key, Keith.”

Click.

The door creaked open, letting in a rush of light and a breeze carrying the scent of jasmine and rose. 

An expectant, wicked smile appeared on Andres’ face, followed by the feather-like touch of his slender, skillful fingers brushing against Keith’s skin. 

The taste of strawberry daiquiri. A sensual voice hummed a familiar tune. 

The epitome of beauty—Andres’s imperfections, the mole under his eye.

Keith was hit with a peculiar flashback, a sense of déjà vu. 

Andres was completely naked, perched on top of Keith's chest, who was struggling to breathe under the unexpected weight.

"Do you want to see how I fuck that other guy?" he mocked.

Keith's heart skipped a beat, his pulse quickening at the suggestion. He nodded, his breath catching in his throat as he lay back on the bed, anticipation and excitement mingling in his veins.

Andres moved with a predator's grace, positioning himself over Keith's face, his knees straddling either side of Keith's head.

The dominant presence of Andres was palpable, his arousal evident as he gazed down at Keith.

Without a word, he guided his erect member towards Keith's lips, his intentions clear and unwavering. Keith's mouth parted slightly, a shiver of excitement running through him as Andres's firm, warm flesh pressed against his lips.

Andres's member, hard and insistent, pushed into Keith's mouth, filling it completely. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady blend of salt and musk that made Keith's senses reel.

Andres' hands found their way to Keith's hair, gripping tightly as he began to thrust with a slow, deliberate rhythm.

Keith's lips stretched around the girth, his throat working to accommodate the intrusion.

Each movement was calculated, Andres's control absolute as he drove deeper into Keith's mouth.

He gagged slightly, his throat constricting around Andres' cock, but the grip in his hair tightened, holding him firmly in place. Andres' pace quickened, the thrusts becoming more urgent, more demanding. His hips moved with a relentless rhythm, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure and discomfort through Keith.

Andres' control was absolute, his eyes locked onto Keith's as he forced himself deeper, hitting the back of Keith's throat with each powerful thrust. 

Keith surrendered completely, his body and mind given over to the dark ecstasy of the moment.

Chapter 14

It had been days since Andres started coming home late at night. Each time Keith tried to spend time with him, Andres was busy and locked himself in his room. If he wasn't in his room, he was constantly out with friends or on dates.

One evening, Keith was sitting on the couch, pretending to watch TV but really just waiting for Andres to come home. 

Muddy, the little brown puppy, lay curled up on the soft, plush rug in the living room. The afternoon sun streamed through the large bay window, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. The gentle hum of the television created a soothing background noise as Muddy's tiny chest rose and fell with each peaceful breath. Surrounding him were a few scattered toys—a well-chewed rope, a squeaky ball, and a stuffed bunny missing an ear.  

As Keith was channel surfing he heard the front door creak open and close quietly.

"Andres?" Keith called, trying to sound casual. "You're back late again."

Andres sighed as he dropped his bag by the door. "Yeah, just had a lot going on," he replied, his voice tired and distant.

Keith stood up and walked over to him. "Want to catch up? We haven't really talked in a while," he suggested, trying to keep the eagerness out of his voice.

"I can't tonight, Keith," Andres said, avoiding eye contact. "I'm really tired and I have an early class tomorrow."

Keith frowned, frustration bubbling up inside him. "You've been saying that for days. Are you avoiding me?"

Andres finally looked at him, his eyes guarded. "I'm not avoiding you, Keith. I've just been busy."

"Busy with what? You don't even tell me what's going on anymore," Keith pressed, his tone more accusatory than he intended.

Andres's jaw tightened. "Just... stuff. Friends, classes, you know, life." Andres sighed deeply. "Can we just... not do this tonight?"

Keith nodded slowly, feeling a lump form in his throat. "Fine," he said quietly. "Goodnight, Andres."

"Goodnight," Andres muttered, picking up his bag and heading to his room.

Keith stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door. 

That night, Keith lay in bed really frustrated. As he tossed and turned, he grabbed his phone and opened the JJboys app.

He scrolled through Incubus's profile, his eyes fixated on the latest content. He replayed the recordings repeatedly, each time trying to lose himself in the seductive voices and explicit imagery. 

Minutes turned into hours as Keith lost track of time, obsessively watching and re-watching every piece of content. The feeling of frustration didn’t fade; it only deepened. Finally, as he was about to close the app, he noticed a small indicator that Incubus was now online.

Keith's pulse quickened. He couldn't resist reaching out. He hesitated for a moment, then composed a message, unsure of what exactly he wanted to say.

He finally typed out a message: "I must have listened to the recordings a thousand times tonight." 

He hit send and waited. After a moment, Incubus's response popped up on the screen.

"I'm thrilled to hear that you’ve enjoyed the recordings so much. I noticed you're a regular, so I decided to give you a little gift. Check your inbox for something special."

Keith's eyes widened in anticipation as he navigated to his inbox. He opened the message to find an attachment labeled "Golden Premium Clients."

Incubus’s message continued: "I've noticed your preferences from your donations and tailored this file to match your favorite themes. I hope you enjoy this exclusive content. Thank you for being such a dedicated client."

Keith's heart raced as he clicked the file, eager to see what exclusive material awaited him.

When he saw the title of the recording, he nearly exclaimed in excitement. 

"Slave to 3 demonic monsters"

He quickly plugged in his earbuds, eager to hear what Incubus had created just for him.

Chapter 15

Keith closed his eyes, letting the sultry tones of Incubus' voice envelop him, and imagined every whispered word as if it were happening to him in real time.

...

A low, guttural growl echoed through the darkness.

Keith’s breaths came in short, ragged gasps, each exhale visible in the frigid air. His eyes strained to adjust, but the darkness remained impenetrable.

Suddenly, a blinding flash of red light cut through the darkness, illuminating Incubus face in a nightmarish glare. His eyes were hollow voids, and his smile was a gaping maw of sharp, predatory teeth. The grotesque appearance was accompanied by a rising crescendo of haunting, discordant music.

A cold, bony hand brushed against Keith’s cheek, leaving a trail of icy terror. Keith tried to move, but he found himself trapped under the demon's claws. 

The temperature dropped.

Incubus started rubbing a monstrous, spiked dick on his chest. Keith's eyes were drawn to it, a shiver running down his spine. His arousal mingled with his fear, creating a heady, almost intoxicating blend of emotions.

"You like it?" mocked Incubus "Let's make you gag on it then."

The demon loomed over Keith, his foul breath hot and rancid against his skin. Keith's eyes widened in as the spiky, pulsating member, covered in barbed protrusions that seemed to writhe and shift unnaturally was pressed insistently against his lips.

Keith’s lips parted slightly, a mix of eagerness and dread. He felt the sharp barbs scrape against his skin. As the monstrous appendage forced its way into his mouth, Keith's body reacted with a jolt, his senses overwhelmed by the alien and abhorrent texture.

The spikes pressed uncomfortably against the roof of his mouth, each movement a blend of pleasure and pain. Keith's arousal grew, his body betraying his terror with every gag and choked breath. The creature seemed to sense Keith's surrender.

With a cruel, knowing satisfaction and a low, guttural growl, Incubus quickened his pace, thrusting his spiky cock deeper into Keith’s mouth.

His eyes watered as the monster's invasive appendage pushed further, triggering a series of choked gags and violent coughs. The chamber echoed with the wet, obscene sounds of the creature's relentless thrusts.

Saliva mixed with other foul fluids began to pool in Keith’s mouth, seeping past his lips and running down his jaw in thick  streams. The fluids dripped onto his chest, mingling with sweat and amplifying the sense of degradation and helplessness.

The monster's dark eyes burned with a hunger that promised further torment. "Let's play with your other hole as well." 

Something else appeared from the darkness. Another identical horrid creature of the nightmare. As Incubus took control of Keith's mouth, the second demon moved behind him. Its eyes glinted with a sadistic pleasure as he spread Keith's legs, revealing his tight, pink hole. 

Keith's heart raced as he felt the monster's brutal grip on his hips, the anticipation mingling with a fresh wave of fear. The creature positioned himself, his grotesque cock now slick and glistening, pressing insistently against his asshole. The monster laughed with a sickening chuckle as it forced its way inside Keith, the spiked member penetrating deeply with a single, savage thrust. 

The simultaneous penetration was a shock to Keith's system, pain and pleasure intermingling in a dizzying rush.

Incubus continued his assault on Keith's mouth, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more demanding. Keith's throat convulsed around the invading rod. His body was caught between the two demons, the dual sensations overwhelming him completely.

The other demon's pace was merciless, driving into Keith with brutal, unyielding force. Each thrust pushed deeper, the spiked appendage stretching and filling him in ways unbearable and intensely stimulating. Keith's body shuddered with each movement. His cries were muffled by Incubus monstrous dick in his mouth, every sound he made lost.

Keith's senses were assaulted from all sides. Every gasp, every choked cry, was met with another brutal thrust inside his wet mouth and inside his stretched hole.

Just when he thought he couldn't take any more, Incubus pulled out of his mouth with a wet, obscene pop, leaving him gasping for air. The second demon, still buried deep inside him, growled and twisted his body roughly, flipping him over so he lay on his back, fully exposed and vulnerable.

"The real fun begins now." laughed Incubus. Standing at Keith's head, he grabbed his hair again, forcing his mouth open. His spiky cock pushed back past his lips, filling his mouth completely once more. The rhythm resumed, brutal and unyielding, as both monsters took him simultaneously, their growls filling the oppressive air of the chamber.

As Keith's body was caught between the two monstrous assaults, his own dick, now painfully erect from the mixture of pain and perverse pleasure, was exposed and vulnerable. 

"Well, look at that, brother. We can't let that wet dick and those hard nipples be. We must torture them too." said the second demon.

"Yes, brother. Just look at him. I enjoy fucking such pretty little things while they squirm."

A third demon, emerged from the shadows, approached with a gleeful, sadistic look in his eyes. His grotesque form was as terrifying as the others and his intent was clear. He stood over Keith, looking down at his exposed, throbbing dick and hard nipples with cruel delight. With a slow, deliberate motion, he raised a clawed hand and brought it down sharply, slapping Keith's erection with a force that sent a jolt of pain and twisted pleasure through his entire body.

Keith's reaction was immediate, a strangled cry escaping around Incubus cock in his mouth. The sharp sting of the slap resonated through him, heightening the sensations of the two demons already ravaging him. The third creature repeated the motion, each slap a brutal punctuation to the relentless rhythm of the others.

The grotesque shadows of the monsters were moving in a perverse dance around Keith's bound and vulnerable form. 

He could feel his climax building, a desperate need for release that grew stronger with each thrust, each slap, each touch. But the third monster had other plans. As Keith's body tensed, the creature tightened its grip, squeezing his member painfully, preventing any chance of release. 

"Mortal slave isn't allowed to cum." he hissed.

The sensation was maddening. The sharp barbs inside him, the thick member filling his mouth, and the cruel grip on his erection all combined into a torturous symphony of sensation.

All the demons started laughing at him. 

The monsters' cruelty didn’t stop there. 

The free hand of the third demon, equally clawed and menacing, roamed over Keith’s heaving chest. The creature’s touch was both teasing and torturous, its claws grazing Keith’s skin. 

Keith’s breath hitched as the monster’s hand found one of his nipples, its fingers pinching the sensitive bud with a vicious twist.

The monster’s fingers worked expertly, alternating between harsh pinches and cruel pulls and twists that sent jolts of sensation radiating through Keith’s body. Keith’s nipples were red and swollen, each sharp pinch and pull sending fresh waves of pain and pleasure coursing through him.

The demon continued his sadistic game, slapping and stroking Keith's cock, his claws occasionally grazing the sensitive flesh. His other hand on his nipples was relentless, his fingers never pausing in their torment. Incubus continued his brutal assault, thrusting deep into his mouth, the other demon driving relentlessly into his asshole.

...

Keith felt utterly dominated. And he loved it.

At that moment, he knew he would be nutting at Incubus's little gift for days to come.

 

Chapter 16

Keith sat in the back corner of the lecture hall, his attention miles away from the professor’s droning voice. He was the heartthrob of the class, and it wasn’t uncommon for girls to sneak glances at him, whispering and giggling amongst themselves. Today, however, Keith had only one thing on his mind: finding out who was the guy Andres was dating.

He held his phone low, scrolling through Andres' Instagram feed with a singular focus. His fingers moved swiftly, each tap and swipe bringing him closer to uncovering the identity of Andres' date. After nearly an hour of determined searching, he finally found him. The username was "Edgy Lascarino."

"Pppft! Fuck off, Edgy," Keith muttered to himself, a mixture of jealousy and disdain coloring his thoughts.

Edgy’s profile was private, an obstacle that only fueled Keith’s determination. He quickly devised a plan. Using photos of a random guy he had deep-dived Shutterstock to find, he created a fake profile. The guy was more than attractive, with a bright smile and a strong physique apparent in all of the photos, and Keith paid for the rights to use them. He meticulously crafted the profile, choosing a generic but appealing username, and started adding people immediately. The friend requests were accepted without hesitation, given the allure of the profile picture.

Over the next few hours, Keith diligently uploaded photos of picturesque places, trendy coffee shops, and exotic travel destinations. Each post accumulated hundreds of likes, adding a veneer of legitimacy to the profile. "Yes, now I seem legit," he thought, a smug smile playing on his lips.

Finally, Keith sent a friend request to Edgy. His heart pounded as he waited, but the acceptance came almost immediately. He felt a rush of triumph as he began to comb through Edgy’s photos.

Edgy’s Instagram feed was filled with moody, artsy shots. There were black-and-white photos of urban landscapes, close-ups of vinyl records spinning on a turntable, and candid shots of street art. Edgy had a penchant for tattoos, and his arms were adorned with intricate designs. He seemed to have a deep interest in music, often posting about underground bands and indie concerts he attended. There were also a few photos of him playing the guitar, his face intense with concentration.

Keith scrutinized every post, every caption, piecing together a picture of Edgy’s life. He noted the comments, the interactions, trying to find any connection that could give him more information. "Now we wait..." Keith thought to himself, his mind swirling with plans. 

As the lecture ended and students began to pack up, Keith’s resolve hardened. He wasn’t entirely sure why he felt this overwhelming need to interfere, but the thought of Andres being with someone else ignited a strange possessiveness in him. With a final glance at his phone, he stood up and joined the flow of students leaving the hall.

Keith arrived home, frustration mounting as he repeatedly called Andres without success. Each attempt to reach his friend went unanswered, and Keith's irritation grew. He knew he had to find a way to get Andres to come over, and a devious idea struck him.

Keith sent Andres a text message: "Hey, I forgot my keys inside the apartment. I’m locked out and really need you to come let me in." It was a complete lie. Keith had his keys with him; he just wanted to lure Andres home.

With a smirk of satisfaction, Keith placed his keys on the coffee table and left the apartment. He made sure to close the door behind him, deliberately locking himself out. He waited outside, pretending to be frustrated and impatient.

It wasn’t long before Andres arrived, his face set in a scowl. He unlocked the door with a frustrated grunt. “What’s up with this?” Andres snapped as he swung the door open.

“Thanks for coming, man,” Keith said, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Andres didn’t return the sentiment. “I was on my way to meet someone. I’m not sticking around to play video games tonight.” He was clearly annoyed, his tone clipped.

“Who are you meeting?” Keith asked, trying to sound nonchalant but unable to hide his curiosity.

“Just someone at a bar,” Andres said tersely, avoiding eye contact. “I left them waiting.”

Keith’s heart sank a little, but he masked it with a forced smile. “Alright, well, have fun. Maybe another time?”

Andres gave a curt nod and headed out, his frustration palpable. As soon as Andres was out of sight, Keith quickly pulled out his phone. He checked Edgy’s Instagram stories, his fingers flying over the screen. 

A new story caught his eye: Edgy was at “Suseta,” a popular gay-friendly bar in town. Keith’s heart raced. His plan had worked perfectly. Andres was clearly heading to the same bar, leaving Edgy waiting. 

With a mix of satisfaction and anxiety, Keith sat down on the steps outside his apartment, staring at his phone. Keith knew he wasn’t done with this yet.

In the following days, Keith maintained his ruse with the fake profile. Keith diligently uploaded photos "with friends" and photos with his supposed sister, choosing images of people wearing sunglasses and hats that resembled the attractive guy he had chosen for the fake profile. He also uploaded stories from a "trip to Cuba" to keep it looking active and authentic.

He even added photos supposedly related to the guy's work, showing snippets of a chic office space, elegant stationery, and occasional shots of a computer screen displaying complex graphs or designs. 

The likes and followers continued to pour in, bolstering the profile's legitimacy, and Keith kept spying on Edgy, who was blissfully unaware that someone was tracking his every move.

One of the next days what Keith was waiting for happened: A photo that showed Andres and Edgy at a trendy bar. They were sitting close together, laughing and clinking their glasses in a toast. Edgy had added a caption: "Great night out with this amazing guy! 🥂 #goodtimes."

Keith slammed his phone down, unable to shake the image of Andres enjoying himself with someone else.

He quickly started his plan. It was awful. He knew it.

He waited a few days to not look suspicious, and then he started sending flirty messages to Edgy from the fake profile he had created. If it worked, it worked... and to Keith's surprise, it did. Edgy started replying equally flirty.

Keith felt a mix of triumph and guilt as the plan unfolded. Every time Edgy responded with a flirty message, Keith's stomach twisted. He couldn't understand why he was so invested in sabotaging Andres' potential relationship, but he pushed the thoughts aside and continued with the deceit.

Their conversations grew more frequent and intimate, with Edgy opening up about his interests, favorite places, and even his hopes for future dates. Keith played along, pretending to be the guy from the photos, all the while feeling a strange satisfaction that he was pulling Edgy away from Andres.

When the texts turned to sexting and the exchange of explicit photos and videos, Keith felt a pang of disgust at himself but continued anyway. He quickly started taking screenshots of the conversations and the explicit content, carefully ensuring that every damning piece of evidence was captured. He created a new, anonymous email account and began sending the screenshots to Andres.

He made sure the emails were vague but provocative enough to catch Andres' attention. The subject lines read things like "Thought you should know." Keith included no text in the body of the emails, letting the images and conversations speak for themselves.

As he hit "send" on the first email, his heart pounded in his chest. He knew this was crossing a line, but he couldn't stop himself. He sent another, and another, each time feeling a mix of excitement and dread.

He needed to see how this played out. His emotions were a chaotic mess of guilt, jealousy, and a twisted sense of satisfaction. He didn't know what he wanted to achieve, but he knew there was no turning back now.

A few days later, Keith was in his room when he heard raised voices outside the apartment. He crept closer to the door, straining to hear.

"Don't play dumb with me! I saw everything. The messages, the pictures..." Andres was furious, his voice trembling with emotion.

"You went through my phone? Are you serious?" Edgy protested.

"Go fuck yourself! Or fuck him! I don't care!" Andres shouted, his voice breaking.

Keith felt a pang of guilt as he listened. He knew he'd caused this, but hearing the pain in Andres' voice made it all too real. He stepped back from the door, retreating to his room as the argument continued.

As he sat on his bed, he heard Andres storm back into the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

Chapter 17

Keith entered Sunny Side Up diner, his eyes scanning the room in hopes of catching a glimpse of Andres. He knew Andres's schedule by heart—Tuesday and Thursday evenings, and Saturday mornings. 

Keith sighed and took a seat at one of the booths, pulling out his phone to send Andres a message.

Keith: "Hey man, when are you working this week? Haven't seen you at the diner in a while."

A few minutes passed before his phone buzzed with a reply.

Andres: "Hey, just been busy with stuff. How's it going?"

Keith: "All good. Just wanted to catch up. Are you working tonight?"

Andres: "Not tonight. Maybe later this week."

Keith: "Which day? Maybe we can grab a coffee after your shift."

Andres: "Not sure yet. Got a lot on my plate right now."

Keith frowned at the vague responses. Something felt off. Determined to get answers, he approached a waitress named Lisa, who he had seen working with Andres before.

"Hey, Lisa," Keith said, trying to sound casual. "Do you know when Andres is working next? I keep missing him."

Lisa gave him a puzzled look. "Andres? He hasn't shown up for his shifts in weeks. I thought he might have told you."

Keith's heart sank. "No, he didn't mention anything. Do you know why he stopped coming?"

She shook her head. "No idea. Management's pretty pissed, though. They might have let him go by now."

Keith thanked her and left the diner, a knot of worry tightening in his stomach. He hurried back home, hoping to find Andres there and get some answers.

But when he opened the door to their apartment, it was empty. The silence was almost deafening. Keith pulled out his phone again and sent another message.

Keith: "Hey, just got back home. When will you be here?"

He waited, staring at the screen, but no reply came. Frustrated and concerned, Keith slumped onto the couch, his mind racing with questions. 

Andres' vague responses played on repeat in his mind, a constant loop of unanswered questions. Keith clenched his jaw in frustration, tossing the phone onto his pillow. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of it all.

Andres wouldn't tell him, even if he pushed. Keith knew that. 

He thought how Andres wasn't being honest, but he didn't stop to think about his own hypocrisy for a moment. Because Keith knew. He was just as guilty of hiding things. 

Keith was deep in thought when his phone buzzed with a notification. He glanced at the screen and saw that Incubus was now online. He quickly unlocked his phone and opened the messaging app.

Incubus: Enjoying the gift?

Subby-boy: Absolutely. It was exactly what I wanted. You really nailed it.

Incubus: I’m glad to hear that! I try to tailor things to my favorite clients. Anything specific you’re into?

Subby-boy: Well, I was wondering if you’d be up for a little request.

Incubus: Ooh, sounds intriguing. What do you have in mind?

Subby-boy: I’d love it if you could wear a butler suit and send me some photos. Something classy but a bit suggestive.

Incubus: That’s a fun request. I think I can make that happen. Anything else you’d like to add?

Subby-boy: I would love to mail you the suit as a gift. I trust you’ll know how to handle it.

Incubus: Leave it to me. I’ll send you some pictures soon.

A few days later, Keith received a series of photos from Incubus. The images showed him in a sleek butler suit, each shot more provocative than the last. 

One photo had Incubus leaning against a wall with a teasing smile, while another featured him adjusting his bowtie with a smoldering gaze. 

A third photo showed Incubus in a sleek butler suit, casually smoking a cigar. The way he held the cigar and the smoke curling around his lips made the image incredibly erotic.

In the next photo, Incubus was drinking wine, allowing the crimson liquid to trickle down his jaw and neck in a way that seemed deliberately provocative.

Another photo showed Incubus without the jacket and shirt, just the pants of the costume and the bowtie. His toned torso was on full display, and the playful smile on his face added to the allure.

But the final image was the one that captured Keith’s attention the most. Incubus was wearing only the bowtie and the leather harness and underwear of the suit, his body glistening under the lights. He held a spanking paddle, licking it suggestively. The sheer audacity and eroticism of the shot sent Keith’s pulse racing.

As a surprise gift Incubus included a suggestive video where he slowly removed the butler suit, his movements deliberate and sensual.

Keith’s eyes widened as he stared at the content, his pulse racing. He replayed the video multiple times. He quickly typed out a message.

Subby-boy: Wow, Incubus. You really outdid yourself. It's incredible.

Incubus: Glad you like them, honey. I had a lot of fun making them.

Subby-boy: You know how to make a guy’s day. The video was a nice touch.

Incubus: I’m happy to hear that. Is there anything else you’re curious about or want to explore?

Subby-boy: Hmm, maybe a little more of your creative side. What else do you enjoy doing on camera?

Incubus: Well, I’m open to ideas. What are you in the mood for?

Subby-boy: I’d love to see more of your playful side. How about a themed recording? I always wanted to be spanked and fingered by a butler.

Incubus: Do I keep my gloves on?

Subby-boy: That's why I sent you leather gloves.

Incubus: Can I also whip you with the belt? Pretty, please?

Subby-boy: You are getting carried away. I like it. 

Incubus: Just sent me the script and I promise you will be jerking off all night.

Chapter 18

Keith’s keys jingled in the hallway as he rushed to leave the apartment. He hadn’t realized Andres was already back because he had his earphones in, blasting rock music at full volume. Dax and Lo had already headed out for the odd job they had agreed to do, but Keith had overslept after hooking up with someone the previous night. Now, he was scrambling to get ready and make it on time. Keith was usually well-off thanks to his great scholarship and part-time job as an editor, but lately, he had been splurging on Incubus, so he needed the extra money from that odd job.

He polished and laced up his combat boots, ready to head out when suddenly, he heard a faint yell over the music in his headphones.

“Fuck! Keith! KEITH!” Andres’ voice echoed from the bathroom.

Keith yanked out his earphones and dashed towards the sound. He found Andres standing in the bathroom, drenched from head to toe, clutching a broken sink pipe. Water sprayed everywhere, flooding the bathroom floor.

“Shit...” Keith muttered. He kicked off his shoes and socks, rolled up his pant legs, and dropped to his knees next to Andres, who was cursing and panting.

Keith reached under the sink and closed the water valve, his hands moving swiftly. He was generally very handy and knew how to handle these kinds of situations.

“Fuck this shit! FUCK IT! We all pay so much money for this  wreck of a home! I am done! DONE! Fuck!” Andres’ voice was erratic, his anger clearly stemming from more than just the broken sink.

“It’s okay, I’ll buy a new one,” Keith tried to calm him down.

“I don’t want a new one! I want to leave!” Andres suddenly shouted, his words dropping like a bomb.

Keith felt a wave of terror wash over him. No, Andres couldn’t leave.

“Andy...” Keith moved closer, wrapping his arms around his friend in a hug. "It's okay, man. I'm here for you."

For a fleeting moment, Keith thought about kissing him. Actually kissing him, with tongue and all. 

“Fuck!” Andres suddenly broke free from the hug, standing up abruptly. He stormed out of the bathroom, tears streaming down his face.

Keith remained in the flooded bathroom, staring at his reflection in the water pooling on the tiles. What had just happened?

Keith took a deep breath and cleaned up the bathroom as best as he could before heading to his job. 

When he arrived there Dax and Lo were already doing the heavy lifting. As Keith tried to sneak in quietly, Dax noticed him and kicked him lightly on the ass. “You’re late, fuck boy,” Dax said, smirking. "Overslept again?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Keith muttered, rolling his eyes. "Had a late night."

"Late night, huh?" Lo chimed in, raising an eyebrow. "Must have been some party."

Keith smirked. "You could say that. Let's just say it was... memorable."

Dax laughed, shaking his head. "Man, you never change."

Keith was sweating as he hefted a heavy box into the back of the moving van. His biceps strained, and he grinned at Dax and Lo, who were busy packing up more items from the house. Dax was struggling with a particularly stubborn sofa while Lo was tossing smaller items into boxes with reckless abandon.

“Man, this is like the workout from hell,” Keith grunted, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Tell me about it,” Dax replied, finally managing to tilt the dresser onto its side. “But hey, it’s better than sitting through Professor Whitman’s three-hour lectures, right?”

Lo laughed, nearly toppling a stack of books. “Dude, remember that time we went to that house party after his class? Whitman’s voice was still ringing in my ears.”

Keith chuckled. “Oh yeah! Wasn’t that the one where Chad tried to do a keg stand and ended up breaking an arm?”

“Classic Chad,” Dax said, shaking his head. “He’s a legend, man. Speaking of legends, Lo you should have been at the concert I went with Keith. That mosh pit was insane!”

“Dude, I thought I was gonna die,” Keith interjected, laughing. “Especially when that giant dude in the Metallica shirt picked me up and threw me into the crowd. I was airborne for like, a solid minute.”

"No fucking way!" Lo laughed.

“Yeah, he was like a ragdoll,” Dax teased. “But you gotta admit, it was epic. Nothing beats live music.”

As they continued packing, Dax and Lo started reminiscing about their dorm days. Keith, not having lived the dorm life, was constantly asking them how it was.

“Man, dorm life was wild,” Dax said, grinning as he hefted a box of kitchen supplies. "One time we snuck a mini-fridge into our room.”

“Oh man, yeah!” Lo replied, laughing. “We hid it behind a curtain and filled it with beer. Every time the RA came around, we’d act all innocent.”

Dax smirked. “And then there was that night we decided to have a hot sauce challenge. Worst idea ever.”

“You were crying like a baby,” Lo teased. “But you know what was even crazier? The time I crashed  your car into a wall.”

Dax winced. “He is still paying for that, by the way." 

After a few hours of heavy lifting and packing, Dax, Lo, and Keith decided to take a break. The sounds of moving boxes and clattering furniture were temporarily replaced by the clink of beer cans and relaxed chatter.

Keith popped open a cold can of beer, the hiss of carbonation escaping as he took a long, satisfying gulp. He leaned back against a stack of boxes, letting out a contented sigh. The cool beer was a welcome relief from the dusty, sweaty work.

They were reminiscing about the wild night they had at a local bar three days ago.

“Man, Keith, you were something else” Lo said with a mischievous grin, leaning back on a couch.

Keith, sprawled comfortably with a beer in hand, raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What did I do now?”

Dax snorted, shaking his head. “Dude, you were absolutely hammered. You kept hitting on Andres. It was hilarious.”

Keith nearly choked on his beer. “What? I did what?”

Lo burst into laughter. “Oh yeah, you were all over him. You kept telling him he had the most beautiful eyes you’d ever seen. And you were buying him strawberry daiquiris like it was going out of style.”

Dax joined in the laughter, smirking. “The whole table was practically buried under a mountain of those things. It was like a strawberry daiquiri apocalypse.”

Keith’s heart rate quickened, but he tried to play it cool. “What? I don’t remember any of that.”

Lo continued, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Oh, and the best part? You even kissed his hand. Andres tried to stop you, saying he wasn't some priest, but eventually gave in. We were all laughing so hard.”

Keith almost had a heart attack. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. “A hand kiss? Really? Man, I must have been out of my mind.”

Dax leaned forward, clearly enjoying Keith’s discomfort. “Yeah, you were pretty far gone.”

Keith forced a chuckle, though it felt strained. “Well, I suppose I was just in a particularly generous mood. Andres probably just looked like he needed some extra love.”

Dax raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but amused. “Actually, Keith, I think it was you who needed the extra love. Looked like you were about to propose."

Keith took another gulp of his beer, desperately trying to keep his cool. His mind was racing, replaying the embarrassing details. “Yeah, well, I’ll have to make sure not to drink so much next time.”

Lo shook his head, still laughing. “Dude, you were a riot. Don’t worry about it too much.”

As the conversation shifted to other topics, Keith felt a rising sense of panic. The realization that he had acted out and possibly revealed something was unsettling. He was grateful for the distraction of the conversation, but he couldn’t shake the sense of unease that lingered.

Chapter 19

Keith pushed open the front door, tired but relieved to be home. As soon as he stepped inside, Muddy, the playful puppy Dax and Lo had adopted, bounded towards him, tail wagging furiously. Keith couldn’t help but smile as he bent down to pet the little dog, scratching behind his ears.

“Hey there, Muddy. Missed me?” Keith murmured affectionately.

Muddy responded with an enthusiastic bark, and Keith chuckled, giving the pup one last pat before straightening up. He adjusted the new pipe and tools he was carrying, ready to tackle the broken sink they’d been dealing with.

“Home sweet home,” he muttered to himself as he walked further into the house.

As he entered the living room, he spotted Andres sitting on the couch, meticulously getting ready for an event. Andres was dressed sharply, fiddling with his cufflinks, looking more put together than Keith had seen him in days.

“Hey, Andres,” Keith greeted, setting the tools down on the coffee table. “You okay? What happened earlier when you...you know, got upset?”

Andres glanced up, his expression neutral. “Oh, that. Nothing major. Just a bit of stress. By the way, where are Dax and Lo?”

Keith hesitated, sensing the dodge but deciding to let it slide. “They’re at the cinema. I’m supposed to meet them later. A group of girls will be there too. You should join us. These girls are amazing. Rachel’s an art major I really admire, and then there’s Jessica, who’s studying medicine. She’s super funny and smart.”

Andres raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. “You’re interested in their personalities? That’s new.”

Keith frowned slightly, feeling a twinge of annoyance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Andres gave him a level look. “I thought you were all about...other things.”

Keith felt a pang of hurt but masked it with a casual laugh. “I can appreciate a good conversation. Come on, man. I’m not just some idiot who thinks with his dick.”

Andres smirked, a hint of skepticism in his eyes. “Really? Because I’ve only ever seen you act otherwise.”

Keith’s face fell slightly, but he quickly forced a grin. “Well, I guess you’ve misunderstood me then.”

Andres’s expression softened slightly, but he didn’t apologize. “I would love to come with you guys, but I have other plans tonight.”

Keith nodded, trying to shake off the sting of Andres’s words. “Yeah, no worries. I just thought it’d be fun to hang out.”

“Another time,” Andres replied, standing up and grabbing his jacket.

Keith watched him go, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. “Yeah, another time,” he muttered to himself as Andres walked out the door.

With a sigh, Keith set to work fixing the sink, his hands moving methodically as he replaced the broken pipe. The task helped him clear his mind, and soon the plumbing was good as new. He stood up, satisfied with his work, and cleaned up before heading out to meet Dax and Lo at the cinema.

When Keith arrived, Dax spotted him first and gave him a playful shove. "You’re late, man! We thought you bailed on us."

"Had to fix the sink," Keith replied, grinning. "Where are the girls?"

Lo waved over to a group of girls standing nearby. “Right there. Come on, let’s go say hi.”

They introduced themselves, and soon the group was a lively mix of laughter and chatter. The girls—Rachel, Jessica, and their friend Megan—were easygoing and fun to be around.

Inside the theater, they settled in to watch a comedy. The movie was hilarious, and the whole group was in stitches. Keith found himself laughing harder than he had in weeks, enjoying the lighthearted banter and shared jokes.

After the movie, Dax suggested, “Hey, why don’t you all come over to our place for dinner? Keith here is a master chef.”

Keith chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll whip up something delicious. How about spaghetti carbonara? It’s my specialty.”

The girls agreed enthusiastically, and they all made their way back to the guys’ place. Once there, Keith rolled up his sleeves and got to work in the kitchen, cooking up a storm while Dax and Lo set the table and entertained the guests.

Keith messaged Andres while stirring the sauce.

Keith: "Hey, man. You gonna be home for dinner? We’ve got some friends over, and I’m making spaghetti carbonara."

A moment later, his phone buzzed.

Andres: "Sorry, I'll be late."

Keith frowned slightly but kept going: "What about hanging out after midnight? Just us?"

The reply came back quickly:
Andres: "Probably won’t be home by then. Having dinner with a friend."

Then another message came after a while.

Andres: "Oh, and I got paid today. Here’s the money I owed you."

A notification popped up, confirming the transfer. 

Keith replied: "You didn’t need to give it back, man. It’s just 100 bucks."

Andres: "I don’t like owing money."

Keith decided to change the subject: "By the way, do you have those photos from the university charity event?"

A few moments later, Andres sent the photos. Keith scrolled through them, smiling at the memories. One showed the four of them—Keith, Andres, Lo, and Dax—posing together with goofy grins. Another had them at the dunk tank, where Keith had hilariously fallen in.

Keith commented on one where he and Andres were standing close, laughing at some inside joke: "Look at this one. We look like a couple 😂"

Andres responded quickly: "Ew, no 😛"

Keith looked at Andres' response and felt an unexpected twinge of irritation. "Ew, no"? He shook his head, trying to push the thought away.

The evening continued pleasantly. The group’s laughter filled the apartment as they shared more stories and jokes. Keith kept a smile on his face, but his mind wandered back to the text conversation with Andres. Why did Andres’ dismissive reply feel like a jab?

Keith sat in his room, the remains of the dinner party cleaned up and put away. The night had been fun, but now, alone in the quiet, Keith felt the weight of Andres’ absence. Determined to stay awake, he sat on his bed, eyes trained on the door, waiting for the familiar sound of Andres’ return.

Hours passed. The soft ticking of the clock marked each agonizing minute. Midnight turned to 1 a.m., then 2 a.m., and still no sign of Andres. By 3 a.m., Keith’s eyes burned with fatigue, but he refused to sleep. The thought of Andres out there somewhere, not even bothering to text him back, gnawed at him.

By 7 in the morning, Keith’s frustration had turned into a dull ache. He typed out a message to Andres: “Hey, pulled an all-nighter and heading to class now. Want to grab coffee together? We both have that 9 a.m. class, right?”

He knew Andres' schedule well. They had planned it together, discussing the merits of certain professors and the best times to avoid early morning lectures. Keith hoped that mentioning the shared class would elicit a response.

But nothing came. Keith walked Muddy, the puppy’s boundless energy a stark contrast to his own weary state. He showered, letting the hot water wash away the exhaustion, but it did little to soothe his frustration. Andres was ignoring him, and it hurt more than he cared to admit.

In class, Keith found a seat in the back corner, his phone hidden under the desk. Every two minutes, he checked to see if Andres had responded. Each glance at his screen brought a new wave of disappointment. He saw that his message had been seen, but there was no reply.

The minutes dragged on, the lecture a blur of words that Keith barely registered. He couldn’t focus, his mind consumed with thoughts of Andres. Where was he? Why was he ignoring him?

Suddenly, Keith’s frustration boiled over. He opened his phone and navigated to the JJboys site. 

Chapter 20

Keith sat on his bed, staring at his laptop screen, waiting for Incubus to come online and answer his request for a one-on-one live chat. He had sent the request earlier during class, eager for the intimate connection that always seemed to soothe his turbulent mind. The clock ticked past midnight, and his eyelids grew heavy, but he was determined to stay awake. Before he knew it, his eyes closed...

When he opened them again Keith woke up to find his room filled with an eerie, unnatural fog. It looked like someone was smoking in there. The room was dimly lit, the familiar surroundings now twisted and ominous. All the window shutters were closed, with only a pale light seeping through the cracks, casting unsettling shadows on the walls. From somewhere, eerie music drifted in from the kitchen, a haunting melody that made his skin crawl.

Keith's ears picked up the steady ticking of an analog clock, a sound that shouldn't be there since they didn't own such a clock in the house. The usual noises of the night—cars passing by, students returning from late-night outings—were absent, replaced by an oppressive, unnatural silence.

His laptop was still open on his desk, the screen glowing faintly. Desperately, he tried to use it, but it lagged and began to show unsettling images: Andres walking down a street, Andres sitting at a café, Andres on a bench, and even Andres visible behind a half-open door, taking a shower. Panic surged through Keith as he struggled to stop the images from appearing, but then the screen suddenly flashed red and shut off, plunging the room into deeper darkness.

His door was half open. Keith looked absentmindedly through the creak. 

Something stood just outside, its silhouette barely visible in the gloom. 

Panic surged through him as he tried to scream, but no sound escaped his lips. 

The figure began to move, slowly approaching his bed. Keith's heart pounded in his chest, each step of the figure resonating like a drumbeat in his ears. He couldn't move a muscle.

The figure reached the foot of his bed and stopped. In the silence, a voice spoke, low and menacing. It was Andres' voice.

"Whatever you're doing, Keith, will come back to you double," the figure intoned. The words echoed in the room, chilling him to the bone.

Suddenly, a loud thunderclap shattered the silence, jolting Keith. He bolted upright, heart racing. It was 5 a.m., and the room was still dark. 

Mustering all his strength, Keith willed himself to move and stumbled out of his room. As he approached the kitchen, the smell of something burning hit him, mingled with a metallic tang that made his stomach churn. Blood stains were everywhere, smeared across the floor and countertops. Chicken intestines were scattered on the tiles, adding to the grotesque scene.

Outside the kitchen window, a storm raged silently, lightning flashing without a sound. The eerie quiet amplified the terror that gripped Keith’s heart. 

To his shock, Andres was there, making breakfast. He was wearing nothing but an apron, and Keith's confusion deepened. 

Andres was standing by the stove, his back turned to Keith. Keith could see everything in tantalising detail. The long, beautiful legs stretched out gracefully. The toned, slim back arching slightly. The delicate waist that begged to be held. And the perky ass, perfectly shaped and inviting.

"Why aren't you wearing any clothes?" Keith asked, his voice trembling.

Andres turned to him, a playful smile on his lips. His eyes were red and swollen, like he had been crying for hours. "Don't you remember what we did last night?"

Keith's mind raced, desperately trying to recall any memory of the previous night, but it was blank. "I... I don't remember," he stammered.

Andres' smile faded, replaced by a look of disappointment. "Do you remember anything else you did?" he asked, his tone accusatory.

A wave of guilt and anxiety washed over Keith. He tried to piece together the fragments of his memory but came up with nothing. The fog of fear and confusion clouded his mind.

Without warning, Andres turned, his face twisted in rage, and lunged at Keith with a kitchen knife.

Keith's eyes widened in horror as the blade pierced his stomach, the pain radiating through his body. He gasped, blood spilling from the wound, and looked into Andres' eyes, which were now cold and unrecognizable.

...

With a scream, Keith jolted awake, drenched in sweat and trembling uncontrollably. He looked around, disoriented, and realized he was still in his room, safe. The terror of the dream lingered, leaving him shaken to his core.

Keith sat up in bed, still shaken from the nightmare, and glanced at his laptop. His heart skipped a beat when he saw a notification from Incubus. He opened it eagerly, reading the message:

"Hey, subby-boy! I’m free to do the roleplay today at either 3pm or 9pm. Let me know which works for you."

Keith sighed in relief. After that horrifying dream, the thought of escaping into a fantasy with Incubus was more enticing than ever. He quickly typed back, opting for 9pm since he had a class at 3pm. He wanted to head to a particular internet café near their house for more privacy during their session.

As he got ready for class, he kept chatting with Incubus on his laptop. They exchanged flirty messages, setting the stage for the evening’s roleplay. 

With a few minutes left before he had to leave, Keith opened the main directory and drilled down several layers until he found a suitable hiding spot. He right-clicked on the "him" folder and selected "Cut." He navigated to the chosen hidden directory, right-clicked again, and selected "Paste."

To further obfuscate its purpose, Keith changed the name of the folder to something innocuous and boring. "System_Backup_2012."

Keith right-clicked on the newly renamed folder and selected "Properties." In the Properties window, he checked the box labeled "Hidden" and clicked "Apply." 

Keith decided to update his laptop’s password to ensure that even if someone gained physical access, they wouldn’t be able to log in easily. 

He grabbed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and headed to the living room. “See you later,” he called to Dax and Lo, who were eating in front of the TV while streaming a series.

Lo looked up, a fork halfway to his mouth. “Want to eat something before you go?”

Keith shook his head. “No appetite, man. Thanks, though.”

He walked down the stairs and almost collided with Andres at the bottom. Keith’s breath caught in his throat. Andres looked dazzling, more beautiful than ever. His hair was slicked back with small specks of glitter from what must have been a party. His shirt was half-unbuttoned, revealing smooth, beautiful skin. High-waisted pants emphasized his long, slim legs, and as Keith's gaze traveled downward, he couldn't help but notice how perky and nice Andres’ ass looked.

Keith couldn't resist commenting. "Wow, Andres, you look like you had quite the night. Were you partying without me?"

Andres smiled slightly and changed the subject, evading the question. "Hey, will you be home by 10 pm?"

Keith's enthusiasm was palpable. "Yeah, definitely! I'll be back by then."

"Great," Andres replied, a hint of relief in his voice. "I'll be home after a job. Maybe we could spend some time together?"

Keith's heart raced a little. "I'd love that. See you later then."

Andres nodded and headed up the stairs, leaving Keith standing there with a smile on his face.

Chapter 21

The library was quiet, with the occasional rustling of pages and soft whispers breaking the silence. Keith sat at a long table, surrounded by stacks of books and a computer, diligently working on his term paper. His team project partner, Emma, sat across from him, her eyes scanning the pages of a thick textbook.

"How’s your part of the paper coming along?" Keith asked, looking up from his laptop and meeting Emma's eyes.

"It's going well," Emma replied with a smile. "I'm just finishing up the last section of the Renaissance Paintings Analysis. How about you?"

"I'm wrapping up the conclusion," Keith said, tapping a few more keys on the computer. "I think we've got a solid paper here."

Emma nodded, her eyes twinkling with exhaustion but also with satisfaction. "It's been a lot of work, but I think it's really good."

Keith leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms. "We make a good team," he said with a playful grin. "Maybe we should partner up more often."

Emma laughed softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, we should. You're pretty easy to work with, Keith."

Keith's grin widened. "Maybe we could celebrate finishing the paper with a coffee after class?"

Emma's cheeks flushed slightly, and she nodded. "That sounds nice. I'd like that."

Later, as they left the classroom, Keith and Emma walked side by side, the cool breeze of the late afternoon brushing past them.

"So, where's your favorite coffee place?" Keith asked, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder.

"There's a little café just around the corner," Emma replied. "They have the best lattes."

"Lead the way," Keith said, smiling.

They walked to the café, chatting about their favorite books and music. The conversation flowed easily, and Keith found himself more and more drawn to Emma's easy laugh and beautiful eyes. They ordered their coffees and found a cozy corner to sit and talk.

After finishing their drinks, Emma invited Keith over to her place to continue their conversation. Her apartment was a short walk from the café, and they arrived quickly. 

Emma unlocked the door and led Keith inside. "Make yourself at home," she said, gesturing to the living room. "I'll grab us some drinks."

Keith sat on the couch, looking around at the cozy, well-decorated space. "Your place is really nice," he called out as Emma returned with two glasses of wine.

"Thanks," she said, handing him a glass and sitting down next to him. "I try to keep it welcoming."

They sipped their wine, the conversation continuing to flow easily. As the evening wore on, Keith found himself leaning closer to Emma, their shoulders brushing.

"You know," Keith said softly, "I really enjoy your company."

Emma smiled, setting her glass down on the coffee table. There was a moment of silence, and then Keith leaned in, his heart pounding. Emma met him halfway, their lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss. 

Soon they were making their way to Emma's bedroom, their hands exploring each other. As things began to progress, Keith found himself struggling to stay in the moment. His mind was racing, and despite his fondness for Emma and how beautiful he found her, he couldn’t get aroused.

Emma noticed his hesitation and pulled back slightly, her brow furrowing in concern. "Keith, is everything okay?" she asked gently.

Keith sighed, feeling a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. "I... I don't know," he admitted, avoiding her gaze.

Emma sat up, pulling the sheets around her. "It's okay," she said softly. "This kind of thing happens. Maybe we should just take it slow."

Keith appreciated her understanding, but he couldn't shake the growing sense of inadequacy. He liked Emma a lot, but his body wasn’t responding the way he expected it to. He felt a knot tightening in his stomach, the pressure mounting. "Let's try this again." he insisted.

Emma reached out and touched his arm. "Keith, are you sure this is what you want? Maybe you’re still discovering your sexuality?"

Her question, though well-intentioned, hit a nerve. Keith's face flushed with a mix of anger and humiliation. "What? No, it's not that," he snapped, his tone harsher than he intended. "Maybe it's just your inexperience."

Emma's eyes widened, hurt flashing across her face. "Excuse me?" she said, her voice trembling slightly.

Keith immediately regretted his words, but the damage was done. "I didn’t mean it like that," he tried to explain, but Emma had already stood up, her expression hardening.

"Get out," she said firmly, pointing to the door.

Realizing there was no point in arguing, Keith sighed and got up, quickly gathering his clothes. He dressed in silence, the room now heavy with tension. He cast one last look at Emma, hoping for a chance to apologize, but her back was turned to him, her shoulders stiff with anger and hurt.

He left her apartment, the door closing behind him with a final, echoing thud. As he walked down the empty street, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had just made a huge mistake.

All of his thoughts faded away the moment he reached his destination: the internet café. The anticipation of talking with Incubus consumed his mind. He entered the café, the familiar smell of coffee and the quiet hum of computers filling the air.

He approached the counter, where a young attendant greeted him with a nod. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I'd like one of the private rooms, please," Keith replied, trying to keep his voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in his stomach.

The attendant handed him a keycard and directed him to the back. "Room three is available. Enjoy your time."

Keith took the keycard and headed towards the room, his heartbeat quickening with every step. He knew it was risky to speak with the cam boy and let Incubus hear his voice. But the thrill of the danger, combined with his yearning, made the risk seem worth it.

Inside the private room, he locked the door behind him and settled into the chair in front of the computer. 
Keith killed some time until Incubus came online. With two hours to spare, he decided to browse through some new content. He navigated to Incubus’s profile, scrolling through the latest photos and videos.

He clicked on a new video titled "Answering your Questions." In it, Incubus lounged on a plush, velvet couch, his eyes smoldering as he spoke in a low, intimate voice. 

"So, a lot of you have been asking about what goes through my mind when I'm pleasuring myself," Incubus started, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "And well, who am I to deny my loyal fans?"

Keith's heart raced as he listened, leaning in closer to the screen.

"In those moments," Incubus continued, "I often think about dominating guys who are bigger and more masculine than me. There's something incredibly thrilling about the idea of taking control, of having them at my mercy."

Keith felt a surge of enthusiasm at these words. Incubus's voice grew softer, more seductive. "I imagine them looking at me, wanting me, but unable to do anything without my permission. It's a powerful feeling, knowing I hold all the control."

Keith's eyes were glued to the screen, his mind racing with vivid images. He could see it clearly—himself, strong and masculine, yet completely at the mercy of Incubus' commands. 

"And then there are those big bro types," Incubus' voice dropped to a whisper, "I fantasize about them calling me Sir and letting me do whatever I please with them. Sometimes, I imagine tormenting them just a little, testing their limits. I'm a bit of a soft sadist," he admitted. "I like imagining guys begging me to hurt them, asking to be spanked, to be punished. More often than not, I imagine using toys on a guy who's bound, gagged, and blindfolded."

Time seemed to fly by as Keith immersed himself in the content. Before he knew it, only a few minutes remained until their scheduled chat.

He checked the time, took a deep breath, and prepared himself for the call. 

Chapter 22

Keith forwarded the call to Incubus and within minutes, the connection was made. His heart pounded when he heard, "Hey baby," instead of the usual "hello honey." The change in greeting made him even more excited.

"I read your request," Incubus said, his voice smooth and teasing. "I think you're a very naughty, kinky boy. You're slowly becoming my favorite."

Keith's excitement soared. "I'm very happy that master Incubus is pleased with me," he said eagerly.

Incubus laughed at the word "master." "I like how obedient you are," he replied "Do you remember the safe word?"

"Yes, master Incubus." 

"You can put it in now." Incubus instructed.

Keith took out of his bag the anal beads. He began to press the orbs against his entrance. Each orb was cool and smooth to the touch, and  Keith inserted them one by one. The orbs slid inside with an almost liquid ease.

Incubus seemed to enjoy it. His voice was a dark whisper when he said “Feel every bead as it fills you.”

Keith’s body tensed. The beads settled inside, their presence creating a growing pressure. 

"How I wish I could see that." Incubus whispered.

Once Keith had inserted all of them, he informed his master.

"Nice." Incubus said "Now turn it on."

Keith took the device and pushed the button. That instant the orbs began to vibrate, each one emitting a low, rhythmic hum. 

"To the maximum." Incubus ordered.

Keith, moaning, muffled “Please… master…”

"I said, put it to the maximum." Incubus cut off his pleas.

Keith obeyed. The vibrations were relentless, their intensity varying as they pulsed inside Keith. 

"You are not allowed to touch yourself or cum before I say so." concluded Incubus.

"Yes, master Incubus." 

Then the roleplay began. "Close your eyes," Incubus instructed, his voice low and commanding. "Let your imagination run wild."

Keith did just that.

...

Incubus, with his dark, captivating eyes and a smile that promised both pleasure and pain, approached with an unsettling calm.

“Running will only make this more enjoyable,” Incubus purred, his voice smooth and velvety, dripping with dark promise.

Keith’s eyes darted around, seeking an escape that didn’t exist. Suddenly, with a wave of Incubus’s hand, a swirling mass of dark energy coalesced beside him. The energy formed into a creature of writhing tentacles and glowing, malevolent eyes—a demonic tentacle monster born of Incubus’ essence.

“What do you want from me?” Keith's voice trembled as he stared at the monstrous apparition.

Incubus took a step closer, his smile widening. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Before Keith could react, the tentacle monster moved with unnerving speed. Tendrils shot out, wrapping around his limbs and pinning him to the ground. His scream was cut short as the cold, slick tentacles tightened their grip. Incubus watched, his expression one of dark amusement.

“Good pet,” Incubus murmured approvingly.

“I must say, you put up quite a chase. But this is where it ends,” Incubus declared.

Keith was acutely aware of the tentacles’ every touch, each one a reminder of his complete and utter helplessness. His body trembled, betraying his fear and the unsettling sensation of the creature’s invasive caresses.

“You look so frightened. There’s no need for that... yet,” Incubus purred, his breath hot against Keith’s ear. The tentacles tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind Keith of their presence. One tendril snaked around his neck. Keith’s pulse quickened, his fear mingling with an unfamiliar sensation.

“Please... what do you want from me?” Keith’s voice was a trembling whisper.

Incubus leaned in close, his dark eyes capturing Keith’s. “I want to see you squirm.”

As he spoke, another tentacle traced a slow, deliberate path down Keith’s chest. Keith gasped, his muscles tensing and the monster’s eyes glowed brighter, reflecting its master’s dark pleasure.

Keith’s eyes widened in shock, his breath hitching as the tentacles continued their teasing exploration. One tendril wrapped around Keith’s waist, pulling him slightly forward, while another brushed against his face.

“Stop... please...” Keith gasped. 

"We’re just getting started.” With a gesture, Incubus commanded the tentacle monster to increase its teasing. 

The tendrils moved, exploring every inch of Keith’s body. One wrapped around his leg, lifting it slightly to further unbalance him, while another traced lazy circles on his chest.

“Look at me.” Incubus commanded. “You feel it, don’t you? The powerlessness, the submission. It’s a heady mix, isn’t it?” Incubus’s voice was a hypnotic purr.

Keith couldn’t speak, his throat dry and constricted. Incubus reached out, a finger tracing along Keith’s jawline, the touch surprisingly gentle.

“Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of you,” Incubus said, his eyes glinting with dark promise.

Keith knew he was at the demon's mercy, and whatever dark pleasure he derived from his torment was far from over.

Slowly, inexorably, the tentacles began to manipulate Keith’s limbs, pulling his legs apart and lifting his arms above his head, leaving him completely exposed and vulnerable.

His heart pounded in his chest as the tendrils began to snake under his clothes, exploring his body. 

The tentacles’ touch was initially light, teasing his nipples , his cock, and his hole. Keith’s body betrayed him, reacting to the relentless teasing despite his fear. He squirmed, his muscles tensing, but the tentacles only tightened their grip, holding him in place.

“You see,” Incubus purred, his eyes never leaving the scene. “Resistance is futile.”

Keith’s skin prickled as the tentacles started to ooze a thick, viscous liquid. The substance seeped through his clothes, wetting them and creating an uncomfortable stickiness against his skin. 

One tendril coiled around his dick, the sensation sending a jolt of conflicting emotions through Keith’s body. He bit his lip, trying to suppress a moan as the tentacle began to move, its motions slow.

“Look at you,” Incubus said, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “So exposed, so vulnerable. It’s quite the sight.”

Another tendril flicked against his nipples, sending sparks of unwanted pleasure through him. The tentacle around his member tightened slightly, its motions becoming more insistent.

Keith’s breathing became erratic. He knew he was helpless, at the mercy of Incubus. 

One of the tentacles snaked toward Keith’s mouth. The tentacle pressed against his lips, forcing them apart. The slick, invasive appendage pushed past his resistance, entering his mouth with an uncomfortable but unmistakable authority. Keith gagged slightly as the tentacle filled his mouth. He tried to turn his head away, but the tentacle only pressed deeper. 

The tentacles around his waist and legs adjust, forcing him into a position on all fours. His hands and knees were on the cold concrete floor.

The tentacle inside his entrance began to move with a slow, persistent rhythm, stretching and probing.

More tentacles were now probing Keith’s entrance, pushing in with a deliberate, unyielding rhythm. The invasive appendages stretched him, each one adding to the sensation of being overwhelmed and dominated.

Keith’s muffled cries and desperate pleas were barely audible over the low, sinister laughter of Incubus. 

Keith was begging “Please… stop… I can’t… take it…”

Incubus watched with a sadistic delight.  

Keith’s member leaked steadily. Incubus leaned in closer, his tongue flicking out to taste the fluid that trickled from Keith’s cock. 

Incubus with a dark chuckle reached for a small, cruel device—a ring designed to restrict and delay climax. He positioned the ring around Keith’s dick. The device tightened slightly, cutting off the pleasure just enough to ensure that Keith would not reach satisfaction.

Keith begged “No! Please! I can’t—" but the sound of his voice was muffled, mingling with the low, continuous chuckles of Incubus. 

The tentacle monster’s movements grew faster and more insistent. The multiple tendrils inside Keith’s ass moved with a cruel rhythm, thrusting in and out with a speed that left him gasping. The thick, viscous liquid that coated the tentacles was dripping everywhere. 

...

Before Incubus could complete his roleplay, Keith came all over his pants, without even touching himself.

Chapter 23

Keith returned home. He pushed open the door and was immediately greeted by the familiar coziness of their shared space. As he stepped inside, he found Andres lounging on the couch, flipping through channels on the TV.

"Hey, you're back," Andres said, looking up and smiling warmly. "How was the rest of your day?"

Keith shrugged, dropping his bag by the door and kicking off his shoes. "Pretty good. What about you? What did you get up to?"

Andres stretched, his movements graceful and relaxed. "Not much. Just hung out, did some studying. You know, the usual."

They chatted casually for a bit, exchanging small talk about their days and upcoming plans. Keith felt a sense of ease wash over him, enjoying the comfortable rhythm of their conversation. 

"Feeling hungry?" Andres asked suddenly. "I was thinking we could cook something simple."

"Sure," Keith agreed. "What do you have in mind?"

"How about some chicken nuggets with vegetables? Easy and quick," Andres suggested.

"Perfect," Keith said, and they headed to the kitchen together.

As they cooked, Keith couldn't help but steal glances at Andres.  Andres was wearing a fitted T-shirt that showed off his toned arms, and Keith found himself getting lost in the sight. The thought of Andres cooking with him everyday suddenly crossed his mind. 

"So, are you seeing anyone these days?" Keith asked casually, trying to sound nonchalant.

Andres chuckled, evading the question with ease. "Nothing too serious. How about you? How are things going with your girlfriend?"

Keith shifted uncomfortably, realizing his attempt to pry had backfired. "Uh, we broke up."

Andres looked genuinely surprised. "Really? I'm sorry to hear that." he paused for a second, searching something with his eyes, and added "Knife, please."

"You're seriously good at this cooking thing. Think you could give me some private lessons?"  Keith said, handing Andres the knife.

Andres raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Are you hitting on me, Keith?"

Keith laughed nervously. "No, man, of course not. Can't I give a bro a compliment?"

Andres smirked, shaking his head. "Just making sure."

Once the nuggets were ready, they sat down at the table with their plates, and Andres pulled up a funny podcast on YouTube. They ate and watched, enjoying the humor and each other's company. Keith couldn't help but be drawn to Andres's laughter, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and his whole face lit up.

During a lull in the conversation, Andres looked at Keith curiously. "Hey, did you end up taking that job to edit and correct other students' term papers?"

Keith nodded. "Yeah, I did. It's technically cheating for them, but it pays well."

Andres chuckled. "True, true. That explains how you've been funding all those nights out and shots of vodka."

Keith grinned. "Actually, I got another scholarship recently. That’s been helping too."

Andres's eyes widened in surprise. "Wow, really? That’s amazing! No wonder you’ve been living it up lately."

As the night wore on, Keith kept trying to find ways to extend their time together. "Hey, you want to watch another episode? Or maybe we could go out for a bit, grab a drink or something?"

Andres yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "I appreciate it, Keith, but I'm really tired. I think I'm gonna hit the sack."

Keith felt a pang of disappointment but tried to hide it. "Alright, no worries. Get some rest."

Andres gave him a tired smile. "Thanks. Goodnight."

"Night, Andres," Keith replied, watching him disappear down the hallway to his room.

Keith headed to his room and  settled into his bed. As he drifted off to sleep, he couldn't shake the lingering feelings that what he was doing was really messed up.

...

Two slender but surprisingly strong hands seized and dragged him out of the room and into the darkness. He was hurled into the void and crashed into the water, like a brick thrown through a windshield. He sloshed about and tried to escape, but a force pulled him back. Somebody was trying to drown him.

Panic set in as he struggled to swim to the surface, but something caught him—a fishnet, tangling around his limbs. He thrashed about, but the more he fought, the tighter it became.

A powerful force began to drag him through the water, the world above growing dimmer and dimmer. He was pulled out of the water, gasping for air, only to find himself bound tightly with coarse ropes. His wrists and ankles were secured, rendering him helpless.

His surroundings were dark and foreboding, the faintest hint of light in the distance. 

Keith felt something touching him. 

His eyes flew open, and he found himself back in his room, the eerie darkness clinging to the corners. His heart was still pounding, his breaths ragged. He lay there, paralyzed by the remnants of the nightmare, when he heard a door creaking.

Summoning what little courage he had, Keith stood up and moved towards the sound. The house was deathly quiet, amplifying every creak of the floorboards beneath his feet. He could hear someone huffing and struggling. It was coming from Andres' room.

His heart raced faster, a mix of curiosity and dread urging him forward. He stopped in front of the half-open door, the faint light from inside casting a narrow beam into the dark hallway. He peeked through the slight opening, his breath catching in his throat at what he saw.

Inside, Andres was having sex with someone. Keith's eyes widened as he took in the scene. Andres' back was to him, his muscles rippling with each thrust. His butt moved rhythmically as he thrust into the other man, who was bound and gagged.

Keith's stomach churned as he realized the bound man looked eerily familiar. He squinted, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. When he finally got a clear view, he felt like he was going crazy. The man being fucked by Andres was...him.

Keith's bound and gagged self lay there, helpless, eyes wide with fear. The surreal and horrifying scene made his head spin. Andres had him tied, a cloth stuffed in his mouth, his eyes pleading for help.

Keith's heart pounded violently as Andres slowly turned to him, a sinister smile spreading across his once-familiar face, now twisted and unrecognizable.

"Want to join?" Andres asked, his voice dripping with malice. He began to laugh, a chilling sound that echoed through the room. "I can take both of you," he continued, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light.

Keith's fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, and he spun around, desperate to escape. As he bolted, he heard Andres' laughter growing louder behind him. The sound of footsteps pounded in his ears, a terrifying reminder that Andres was giving chase.

He ran as fast as he could, even breathing was painful. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, a nightmarish tunnel with no end in sight. Suddenly, his foot caught on something, and he stumbled, falling hard onto the floor.

Dazed, Keith looked down to see that he had tripped over the naked body of the man who looked exactly like him. The horror of the sight jolted him, but before he could react, Andres was upon him, his grip iron-strong.

Andres dragged him back to the bedroom, Keith's struggles futile against his overwhelming strength. With a rough shove, he was thrown onto the bed, the sheets tangling around him. Andres ripped his underwear away with a savage motion, leaving Keith exposed and vulnerable.

A surge of the most intense pain Keith had ever felt coursed through his body as Andres forced himself inside. Keith's scream was muffled by Andres' hand clamped over his mouth, the taste of salt and sweat filling his senses.

The relentless thrusts sent waves of pain through him, each one more excruciating than the last. He tried to cry out, to beg for it to stop, but the only sound was the muffled sobs escaping past Andres' hand.

Andres' free hand, which had been pressing down on Keith's chest, began to creep towards his neck. Panic surged through Keith's veins as he realized what was about to happen. He tried to shake his head, to scream, but the only sounds that escaped were muffled, desperate whimpers.

Andres' fingers wrapped around Keith's throat, squeezing tightly. The pressure made it impossible to breathe, and Keith's world narrowed to the sensation of being choked, his airway cut off. He clawed at Andres' hand, his nails digging into the flesh, but it was like trying to scratch through iron.

...

Keith jolted awake, his body drenched in sweat. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, each beat echoing the terror of his dream. He sat up abruptly, gasping for air, his sheets tangled around his legs. 

Looking at his reflection in the mirror, Keith tried to calm down. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated with the remnants of fear.

He glanced at the clock, resolved to clear his head before the day truly began. A jog might help him clear his thoughts and push the nightmare out of his mind.

Keith quickly changed into his running gear, his movements brisk but slightly shaky. As he laced up his sneakers, he tried to focus on the routine of getting ready rather than the images from his dream. He grabbed his headphones and phone, slipping them into his pockets, and headed out the door.

As he ran, Keith let the early morning calm wash over him. The sunrise began to break through the horizon, casting a gentle light over the landscape.

Chapter 24

Keith walked into the licensed ticket seller's shop, a small but modern establishment nestled in a bustling city street. The shop had sleek, black counters and glass displays showcasing various memorabilia from past events, including autographed posters, limited edition merchandise, and collectible items. The walls were adorned with photos of famous musicians, athletes, and other celebrities who had performed or appeared at events for which tickets had been sold here. A large LED screen behind the counter displayed upcoming concerts, sports games, and theater shows.

Keith approached the counter, feeling a bit nervous. The clerk greeted him with a friendly smile. "How can I help you today?"

"I'm looking to buy two tickets for the Lady Gaga concert," Keith said, trying to keep his voice steady. 

"Sure thing," the clerk replied, typing quickly on the keyboard. "You're in luck; we still have some great seats available."

Keith nodded, watching as the clerk printed out the tickets and placed them in a sleek envelope. He paid for them, took the envelope, and slipped it into his bag, feeling a thrill of anticipation. He hoped this worked.

When the day of the concert arrived, Keith was ready with his plan. He found Andres in the living room, scrolling through his phone. Keith took a deep breath, trying to act casual. 

"Hey, Andy," Keith began, catching Andres' attention. "I know this might sound a bit out of the blue, but I have two tickets to the Lady Gaga concert tonight."

Andres' eyes widened with surprise and excitement. "No way! Lady Gaga? How did you get those?"

Keith chuckled. "I actually bought them as a surprise for my girlfriend, but, uh, we broke up last week. So, I was wondering if you'd like to go with me instead?"

Andres' face lit up with a huge smile. "Are you kidding me? I'd love to! Lady Gaga is one of my favorites. Thank you so much for inviting me!"

Keith felt a wave of relief and happiness. "Great! I'm really glad you can come. We should probably book a hotel near the stadium since it's a late concert."

They quickly booked a cheap hotel near the concert venue and packed their bags. The journey to the concert was filled with excitement and chatter about Lady Gaga's music and how amazing the concert was going to be. When they arrived at their hotel, they checked into a modest room with only one double bed.

"Looks like we'll have to share the bed," Keith said with a laugh. His plan was working perfectly.

Andres shrugged, smiling. "No big deal."

Keith nodded, trying to ignore the slight flutter in his chest. They dropped off their bags and headed to the concert venue. 

As they neared the stadium, Andres' excitement was palpable. He was dressed provocatively, embracing his openly gay identity with a confident flair. Andres wore tight pants that hugged his legs, a glittery tank top that sparkled under the lights, and many accessories. Keith had seen Andres pull something from his backpack when he went to change in the bathroom. He very clearly saw a jock strap and a chest harness. Just imagining taking off Andres' clothes was driving him crazy, but he kept his thoughts in check.

The concert was everything they had hoped for and more. Lady Gaga's performance was electrifying, and the energy in the stadium was infectious. Keith and Andres danced and sang along to every song, their inhibitions fading with each passing minute. They drank, laughed, and let loose, fully immersing themselves in the experience.

At one point, Andres struggled to see over the crowd. Keith, feeling bold and playful, bent down and gestured for Andres to get on his shoulders. "Come on, you'll see better from up here!"

Andres laughed but didn't hesitate. He climbed onto Keith's shoulders, and Keith stood up, gripping Andres' thighs to steady him. The feeling of Andres' legs against his shoulders sent a jolt of excitement through Keith, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the joy of the moment.

Andres cheered, his face alight with happiness as he got a perfect view of Lady Gaga. "This is amazing! Thank you, Keith!"

Keith smiled, feeling a warm sense of satisfaction. "Anything for you, man."

After the concert, they returned to their hotel room, still buzzing from the adrenaline and excitement. Andres flopped onto the bed, laughing. "That was incredible! I can't believe how close we were."

Keith nodded, sitting down next to him. "Yeah, it was definitely a night to remember."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the energy of the concert still lingering in the air. Keith glanced over at Andres, who was still beaming with happiness. 

They talked. They rested their minds. They laughed.

Andres turned to Keith, a playful smile on his face. "You know, when I was a kid, my friends and I used to play dodgeball all the time. We were pretty intense about it. One time, though, the ball went flying off a cliff. Of course, I was the idiot who went down there to get it."

Keith chuckled. "You really went down a cliff for a ball? You must have been one determined kid."

Andres shrugged, a bit sheepishly. "Yeah, well, determination quickly turned into regret. When I got down there, I found a whole bunch of dead birds. It was like something out of a horror movie. But instead of running home like a normal person, my brother and I decided to hike to our grandfather's field, which was far outside the village."

Keith raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like a normal reaction." He grinned, teasing.

Andres laughed. "Hey, we were adventurous. Or maybe just stupid. So, we pass in front of this corral, right? And out of nowhere, five sheepdogs start chasing us. We panicked and ran into the freshly watered fields, thinking we'd outsmart them."

Keith leaned in, intrigued. "And did it work?"

Andres nodded, a proud smirk on his face. "Surprisingly, yeah. The dogs were smart enough not to follow us into the mud. But we sank right in—up to our knees. By the time we got home, my grandmother was waiting with her scolding ready. We were covered in mud, and she made sure we knew exactly how she felt about it."

Keith shook his head, still smiling. "I bet your grandma wasn’t too thrilled."

Andres snorted. "You could say that. She wasn’t the type to let things slide."

Keith’s grin widened. "You know, that reminds me of the first time I fell off my bike. Landed face down, hard, right on the ground. I was sprinting through a volleyball court, not paying attention, and ran straight into the net. It knocked me right off the bike."

Andres winced, imagining the impact. "That must have hurt."

"Yeah," Keith nodded, "and that wasn’t even the worst part. We used to have these crazy races in the playground—seeing who could jump the furthest off the swing while going as high as possible. I’ve still got the scar from one of those jumps."

Andres leaned in closer, looking the little scar across Keith's lips. "Look at this smooth, pink sexiness." Andres laughed, turning Keith’s face to get a better look. "I was wondering where you got that. Nice battle wound. Guess you've been a daredevil since day one."

Keith couldn’t help but grin. "You could say that. But I was really just a dumb kid who didn’t know when to quit."

There was a pause as Andres examined the scar, his fingers brushing against Keith’s skin. Keith felt his heart beat a little faster, a strange anticipation building in his chest. He waited—unsure what he was waiting for, but it was something. He thought, maybe, Andres would lean in and kiss the small mark.

But it never happened.

Eventually, they lay down side by side, the room falling into a comfortable silence. Keith stared up at the ceiling, still waiting, still hoping for something to happen. But the room remained quiet. Even after Andres fell fast asleep beside him, Keith stayed awake in the darkness, waiting for something that wasn’t meant to be.

As the night wore on, exhaustion from the day’s events began to settle in.

Then, he heard it—a low, sinister chuckle, far too close to his ear.
Slowly, he turned his head toward Andres, hoping against hope that the noise had been a trick of his mind. But Andres lay there, undisturbed, breathing steadily in his sleep.

Keith's eyes darted to the right, and his blood ran cold. A shadowy figure with glowing eyes was standing in the corner of the room, staring at him. The figure was tall, its form barely visible in the darkness, but those eyes—those terrible, glowing eyes—seemed to pierce right through him.

Keith's body froze as the creature moved closer, its presence suffocating. It reached out, and he felt its cold, slender hands tracing over his shoulders, sliding down his arms, caressing his back and sides with an almost tender touch. His skin crawled at the sensation, and he wanted to scream, but his voice was caught in his throat.

“Tell me what you want,” the creature whispered, its voice like a hissing wind, carrying a tone that was both mocking and seductive.

Keith started to whine, the sound desperate and terrified.

The creature snickered, a horrible sound that seemed to echo in the small room. “You are so close,” it taunted. “He is sleeping right next to you. All you have to do is reach out. Just touch him.”

Keith felt his body begin to tremble uncontrollably, his mind screaming at him that this was just another night terror, but something dark and insidious was taking over. The creature's words slithered into his thoughts like poison, pushing him to do something unspeakable.

“F…fuck, stop this,” Keith whispered, his voice quivering with fear.

“Come on,” the creature coaxed, its voice dripping with malice. “Touch him. Just sneak a hand under his shirt. It’ll feel so good. He won’t even know.”

Keith felt like he was sinking, like the bed beneath him was giving way to some lightless, humid swamp, dragging him down into the depths. His limbs felt heavy, like they weren't his own, as if some unseen force was guiding his movements.

His hand moved against his will, trembling as it reached out towards Andres. His fingers brushed against the soft fabric of Andres’ pajama shirt, and with a sickening realization, Keith found himself unbuttoning it. One button, then the next, then another, each click of the button coming undone like a countdown to something horrible.

He slowly parted the shirt, revealing Andres’ smooth skin beneath. Keith’s breath hitched. His hand then moved lower, fingers trembling as they hooked into the elastic waistband of Andres’ pajama pants. He started to tug them down, inch by inch, his heart racing in his chest.

The waistband slid down from Andres' waist to his belly, then further to his abdomen. Keith's pulse thundered in his ears. His hand paused as he realized Andres wasn’t wearing anything underneath, the sight of bare skin making his stomach churn with dread and something disturbingly akin to excitement.

His fingers trembled as he tugged at the fabric, pulling it down slowly, revealing more of Andres' body. But something was wrong. Horribly wrong.

There was nothing there.

Keith’s mind struggled to comprehend what he was seeing. Where Andres' cock should have been, there was only a smooth, featureless expanse of skin. It was as if the body beneath his hands was not Andres at all, but a mannequin.

Keith's trembling hand hovered over the grotesque void. Something compelled him to touch it, to feel the unnatural smoothness, even as every instinct screamed at him to pull away. He hesitated, fear gnawing at his insides, but then his fingers pressed down.

The moment his skin made contact, a searing pain shot through his hand. It was as if he had plunged his fingers into boiling oil. The agony was instant and excruciating, burning through his nerves and making him gasp in pain. He yanked his hand back, staring in horror at his fingers. They were covered in angry red blisters, the skin swollen and tender, as if scalded by something molten.

He tried to back away, but his body refused to move. His gaze, despite his terror, was drawn upward, toward Andres' face—or where his face should have been.

Keith's scream tore through the silence of the room, raw and guttural, as he realized the horrifying truth. The body lying before him was headless. Andres’ head was gone, leaving only a smooth neck. 

Keith’s eyes darted around in terror, desperately trying to understand, to find some sense in the madness.And then he saw it.

Perched on the shelf above the bed, like a macabre trophy, was Andres' head. It stared down at Keith with lifeless eyes, its expression frozen in an unnatural, vacant smile. The head looked detached, almost as if it had been placed there deliberately, carefully arranged to watch over the bed. Andres looked like a doll that had been disassembled and put back together wrong.

The grotesque smile on its lips twisted further, stretching impossibly wide. Then, to Keith’s utter horror, the head spoke.

“Is there something you want to tell me, honey?” The voice was sickeningly sweet, eerily familiar, and filled with a mocking undertone.

Keith’s chest tightening as panic surged through him. He tried to respond, to scream, to do anything, but all that escaped his throat was a strangled, muffled sound. His mouth wouldn’t open. 

“Ah, seems like you can’t talk. You poor thing,” the head continued, its tone dripping with false sympathy, almost reveling in his helplessness.

Keith’s hands trembled violently as they moved to his mouth. His fingers brushed over his lips, and that’s when he felt it—the horrifying realization that his lips were sewn together.
 
GDUP! 

A loud thud jolted Keith awake. He was drenched in sweat, his skin clammy and cold, and his head throbbed with a splitting headache that made his vision swim. For a moment, he wasn’t sure where he was.

Keith’s eyes darted around the room, There was no sign of the nightmare’s twisted horrors. Just the faint glow of the streetlight seeping through the curtains and the muffled hum of the city outside.

Then he noticed the source of the noise that had startled him awake. Andres was sprawled on the floor beside the bed, tangled in a mess of blankets that had been pulled down with him. He lay there, still sound asleep, his arm awkwardly draped over his head as if he’d simply rolled off the bed in his sleep. The sight was almost comical.

Keith let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through him. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaned over, reaching out to gently touch Andres' hair. His touch was light, hesitant. "Hey, Andres," he whispered, his voice soft and low. "You fell off the bed."

Andres stirred slightly, a soft murmur escaping his lips as he shifted beneath the blankets. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, Keith thought he might just roll over and go back to sleep. But then his eyes fluttered open, bleary and confused, as he looked up at Keith.

“Wha—?” Andres mumbled, still half-asleep, his voice thick with drowsiness. He blinked a few times, trying to focus on Keith’s face, clearly disoriented by the sudden wake-up call. “Why am I…?” He glanced around, realizing he was on the floor, the blankets wrapped around him like a cocoon.

“You fell off the bed,” Keith repeated, a small smile playing on his lips despite everything. “You took all the blankets with you too.”

Keith extended a hand, and Andres took it, allowing Keith to pull him to his feet. First it was a small chuckle. Then they started laughing. Keith felt a warmth in his chest, a strange kind of contentment as he looked at Andres, still disheveled and half-asleep.

Chapter 25

Keith and Sarah were on the couch, and as she leaned in to kiss him, Keith responded with just enough enthusiasm to keep her interested. He felt her hands exploring his back, her lips pressing eagerly against his, but inside, he was a void. There was no real connection, no spark, just an act he was playing out.

But Sarah didn’t notice. As far as she could tell, everything was fine, maybe even better than fine. She deepened the kiss, shifting closer to him, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. Keith played along, moving his hands over her body, pulling her in just the right way to make her believe he was as into this as she was. But it was mechanical, a routine he could perform in his sleep.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes were bright with desire, and she smiled at him, her breath heavy. "I’ve been wanting to do that for a while," she whispered, her voice filled with anticipation.

Keith forced a smile, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in a way that didn’t reach his eyes. "Me too," he lied smoothly, leaning in to kiss her again, keeping up the charade.

They made out for a while longer, and Keith felt a pang of guilt for leading her on. But he shoved it down, burying it deep where it wouldn’t interfere with what he needed to do. When they finally broke apart, Sarah was practically glowing, her cheeks flushed, her hair slightly tousled.

"Maybe we should take this somewhere more… comfortable?" she suggested, a shy yet hopeful look in her eyes.

Keith hesitated for a fraction of a second, but then he nodded. "Yeah, sure," he replied, his voice steady, as if he was completely on board with her suggestion.

But inside, he was numb. He didn’t care about what happened next, didn’t care about anything other than getting through the night without falling apart.

When he finally left her apartment later that night, her messages started coming almost immediately, filled with excitement and lingering desire. She thanked him for the evening, hinted at wanting to see him again soon, and asked if he had made it home okay.

Keith glanced at the messages as they came in, his thumbs flying over the keyboard as he sent back flirtatious responses, each one crafted to keep her hooked, to make her think he was just as eager for more as she was. He told her he had a great time, that he’d love to see her again soon, and he even threw in a compliment or two about how much he enjoyed being with her.

But it was all lies. He didn’t feel anything. He didn’t want anything. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth. So, he kept up the game, leading her on with false promises and empty words, all the while feeling a hollow ache in his chest.

Instead of going home, Keith found himself walking toward a gay bar. The neon lights greeted him as he stepped inside, the loud music and crowd a welcome distraction from the emptiness that gnawed at him. He ordered a drink at the bar, not really tasting it as he sipped, just going through the motions.

A man approached him not long after, tall and confident, with a smile that promised a good time. "Can I buy you a drink?" the man asked, his voice smooth.

Keith glanced at him, nodding. "Sure, why not?" he replied, forcing himself to focus on the present moment, to push the thoughts of Sarah and everything else out of his mind.

They chatted for a bit, but Keith’s mind wasn’t really on the conversation. 

Eventually, the man suggested they leave together, and Keith agreed without hesitation.

They went back to the man’s apartment, and as soon as they walked in, the man turned to Keith, a suggestive smile on his lips. "Make yourself comfortable," he said, nodding toward the bathroom. "If you want to freshen up first, go ahead."

Keith nodded, walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He leaned against the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror for a long moment, his face expressionless. 

He turned on the shower, stepping under the spray of hot water in an attempt to wash away the guilt, the shame, the emptiness. But no matter how hard he tried, the feelings clung to him, refusing to let go.

His mind drifted back to the cheap hotel room, to the moment when he had secretly taken something that didn’t belong to him. When they were packing up to leave, Andres had mentioned that he couldn't find a certain item, but Keith had played dumb, acting like he hadn't seen it. 

But he had. 

He knew it was wrong. He knew he shouldn't have taken it. But the rush of having something that belonged to Andres, something so intimate, was intoxicating. 

Keith turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, his body still dripping wet as he reached for his jacket that he had left on the bathroom counter. With a trembling hand, he unzipped the inner pocket and pulled out the stolen item:

Andres’ jock strap. 

It was a simple piece of clothing but to Keith, it was everything. He brought it to his face, closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply. The scent was still there, faint but unmistakable. It was the scent of Andres. 

As he held it to his face, Keith let himself imagine that he was back in that hotel room, that Andres was there with him. He imagined Andres’ body, the way it felt when they were close.

Keith's breath hitched as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold on to the feeling, trying to make it last. 

He walked back into the bedroom where the man was waiting. The man’s hands slid down Keith’s body, slowly tracing over his chest and stomach, before moving even lower. Keith's breath hitched as the man began to go lower. Keith closed his eyes tightly. The only thing he could picture was Andres. He imagined it was Andres' hands exploring him, Andres' mouth moving down his body, Andres' breath warm against his skin.

As they moved together on the bed, the man guided Keith down, and Keith followed. Every movement, every sensation, Keith reimagined as if it were Andres with him. He blocked out everything else—the man’s voice, the room around them, even the taste of him. Everything was about Andres—Andres’ mouth, Andres’ hands, Andres’ body pressed against his own. As he took the man in his mouth, he imagined it was Andres. 

As the man lay back, catching his breath, Keith slowly sat up on the edge of the bed. He got dressed quietly, barely glancing back at the man who was now drifting off to sleep. Keith didn’t say goodbye; there was no need. As he left the apartment and stepped out into the cool night air, the emptiness only grew.

This wasn’t what he wanted. This wasn’t who he wanted.

As he walked down the street, Keith pulled out his phone, his fingers trembling slightly as he unlocked the screen. His mind was already drifting back to the one person who seemed to understand him in ways no one else did, even if that connection was only online. Without thinking twice, Keith opened Incubus chat and began typing.

"Are you available tonight?"

Incubus responded almost instantly, his words appearing on the screen with a playful familiarity that sent a rush of excitement through Keith.

"Baby, what can I do for you?"

Keith's heart raced as he stared at the message. He hesitated for just a moment. His fingers moved swiftly across the screen.

"I want a private call," he typed, feeling a surge of anticipation. There was no need for elaborate roleplay tonight. What he wanted was something different, something more raw, more personal.

Incubus' response came quickly, "What are we playing tonight?"

Keith took a deep breath before replying, "Nothing. Just be my horny boyfriend."

Chapter 26

Keith found himself wandering the streets, his mind racing, until he came across a dark corner near a closed supermarket. The streetlights flickered above him. He glanced around, making sure no one was near, before he ducked into the darkness. His heart pounded, the thrill of the moment mingling with a sense of desperation. He knew he couldn’t do this at home; Dax and Lo had girls over for movie night, and privacy was impossible. This was his only option.

His fingers trembled slightly as he pulled out his phone and quickly sent a message to Incubus.

"Can I call you? I need you right now."

A few agonizing moments passed before his screen lit up with a response. 

"Oh, someone can't hold back. Needy baby," Incubus replied, clearly amused.

Keith could feel his face flush with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. He typed back quickly, "Please... I really need this. Can I call?"

There was a brief pause before the reply came. "Call me immediately."

Keith didn’t hesitate. He forwarded the call. His surroundings seemed to fade away, and all that mattered was the voice he was about to hear. After what felt like an eternity, the line connected, and the familiar sultry voice came through.

"Hey, baby," Incubus purred, his tone teasing. "You're so adorable, you know that? So needy tonight."

Keith’s breath hitched, and he managed to laugh softly. "Yeah, I guess I am."

There was a warm chuckle on the other end. "Don't worry, baby. I got you."

Keith leaned back against the cold wall, a smile tugging at his lips. "Did you miss me?"

"More than you can imagine," Incubus replied smoothly, his voice like honey.

Keith’s heart swelled at the words, a comfort he desperately needed. "I have a little problem... Can you help me with it?"

The response was immediate, filled with warmth and affection. "Of course, baby. Since you're such a good boy, I'll help you with anything."

Keith closed his eyes, letting the words wash over him.

"I'm going to make you moan so loud ," Incubus whispered, his tone laced with a seductive edge.

Keith shivered at the promise, his hand already moving on its own, fingers brushing over the bulge in his pants. "I'm already touching myself over my pants," he admitted, his voice low and breathy.

Incubus let out a soft laugh, the sound rich with amusement. 

Keith’s lips curled into a smile, his fingers pressing a bit harder. "I wish you could be here to see it," he murmured, the yearning in his voice palpable.

"I wish I could too," Incubus replied, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "I want to kiss you so badly... I miss the way your hands feel on me."

Keith closed his eyes, the imagery flooding his mind. "I want to feel you too," he whispered. "I want to hear you playing with yourself... for me."

There was a soft giggle on the other end, playful and teasing. "You're making me blush, baby," Incubus confessed. "But alright, I'll tell you what I'm doing."

Keith's pulse quickened as he waited for Incubus to continue, the anticipation winding tighter within him.

"I'm slowly unzipping my pants," Incubus began, his voice sultry and deliberate. "Sliding my hand inside... thinking of you and how your tongue feels on my cock."

Keith could almost see it in his mind, the image vivid. He swallowed hard, his own hand moving with a bit more urgency now, desperate to match the rhythm Incubus was setting with his words.

Incubus's voice dripped with curiosity and a hint of mischief as he asked, "So, baby, what were you doing while I was away? Were you thinking of me?"

Keith bit his lip, the memory of those nights flashing through his mind. "I was thinking of you all the time," he confessed, his voice thick with longing.

"All the time?" Incubus teased, his tone playful but still coaxing. "And what were you doing while you were thinking of me?"

Keith hesitated for a moment, the confession making his heart race faster. "I was... using toys," he admitted, his words coming out in a hushed breath. "Imagining it was your thick cock stretching me."

There was a brief pause, then Incubus's voice returned, laced with excitement. "Oh, really? And what toys were you using, naughty boy?"

Keith felt a shiver run down his spine. "I bought something new," he said, the anticipation clear in his voice. "Something I wanted to test out together."

Incubus's breath hitched audibly, his curiosity piqued. "What is it? Tell me, I'm dying to know."

Keith smirked, his own excitement growing as he imagined the possibilities. "Nipple clapms," he said, teasing him back. 

Incubus let out a low chuckle, the sound sending a thrill through Keith's body. "Oh shit," he replied, his voice velvety smooth. "Now you've got me all worked up, baby. I can't wait to see what you wearing them."

Keith's voice dropped to a whisper "I already tried them on," he admitted, feeling a flush creep up his neck. "I loved them. It felt like your fingers were teasing me, pinching me just right, while your dick was ramming inside me."

Incubus let out a low, approving hum. "Did it now?" he purred, the sound of his voice causing Keith’s breath to hitch. 

Keith swallowed hard, his pulse quickening as he relived the sensations. "It was… intense. Every time I moved, I could feel them tugging, like you were there with me. It drove me crazy."

"I bet you looked so good," Incubus murmured, his tone seductive and coaxing. Incubus’s voice took on a teasing, almost dark edge. “You can’t even imagine what I’m going to do to you when I get home,” he said, his tone dripping with promise.

Keith’s excitement was palpable. “What are you going to do to me?” he asked eagerly, his heart pounding in anticipation.

Incubus let out a sultry chuckle. “I want you to wait for me, baby. Wear those clamps, and make sure you’re spread out on the bed, just how I like it. I want to see you all ready for me.”

Keith’s breath hitched at the command, his mind racing with the possibilities. “I’ll be ready,” he promised, his voice trembling.

Incubus’s voice softened with a note of affection as he spoke. “You’ve been such a good boy,” he said. “For being so patient and sweet, I’m going to reward you. I’ll be sucking you all night long. You’ve earned the best, and I can’t wait to show you just how much you mean to me.”

Keith, breathless with anticipation, admitted "I never thought I'll be jerking off, hiding in a dark corner near a supermarket."

Incubus’s voice was filled with surprise and curiosity. “Wait, are you serious? You’re really out in public? Is this part of the roleplay, or is this actually happening?”

Keith’s breath was ragged as he replied, “No, this is real. I’m out in a parking lot, behind a supermarket. I’m almost at the edge.”

Incubus’ tone grew more intrigued. “Fuck...”

“Am I shocking you?” Keith whispered, his voice trembling slightly.

There was a long, tense pause. Keith’s heart raced as he wondered if Incubus might terminate the call or report his profile. Why was he so silent? Panic gnawed at Keith—what if he recognized his voice? 

But suddenly Incubus’ voice came through, hot, heavy and unsteady. “Describe it to me.”

Keith’s breath was ragged as he described the scene to Incubus. “I’m  away from any lights. It’s so quiet here. I’m standing, my back against the wall, with my pants unzipped. I’ve got my hand on my cock, teasing it. I’m so close.”

"So, how fast is your hand jerking you off? Are you going all out or taking it slow?” Incubus asked, his voice sounding unexpectedly different, “And... are you teasing your slit with your finger?”

It was as if he’d momentarily forgotten that he was performing for a client. The seductive veneer had slipped, and what remained was a raw, unfiltered tone. It was a jarring shift from the practiced allure Keith was used to, making him wonder if the intimacy of the moment had blurred the lines of their interaction.

Keith’s breath hitched at the question. “I’m—I'm going pretty fast,” he admitted, his voice shaky but eager. “And yes, I'm teasing my slit a lot. I can’t help it. The thought of you and the way you talk to me is just driving me wild.”

Incubus’ voice, still tinged with an unfamiliar earnestness, broke the silence. “Why don’t you also tease your nipples?”

Keith, caught off guard by the shift in Incubus’ demeanor, complied. He hesitated only a moment before his fingers drifted from his erection to his chest. He gently stroked and pinched his nipples.

Incubus’s voice took on a more intense, almost pleading quality. “Are you doing what I asked? Are you teasing your nipples and touching yourself?”

“Yes,” Keith replied breathlessly, his hand still moving over his nipples.

“Good,” Incubus continued, "Now, lower your pants a bit and use your fingers on your ass. I want you to fuck your asshole with two fingers.”

Keith’s pulse quickened. He hesitated briefly, but then slowly, he tugged his pants down. His fingers, trembling slightly, moved from his erection to his hole. 

Incubus’s voice came through the phone “Are you—are you doing it? Are you fingering yourself?”

Keith could hear a stutter in Incubus’s voice, a crack in the facade that hinted at something beyond the roleplay. “Yes, I’m doing it,” Keith confirmed, his voice low and strained with arousal.

There was a pause on the other end, a moment of hesitation that made Keith’s heart race. Incubus’s next words came out unevenly, betraying the slip from professional to personal. “Oh, good. I… I didn’t expect you to actually—”

The sudden shift in Incubus’s tone, the break in his control betrayed that the boundary between performer and participant had been crossed.

Keith winced as he whispered into the phone, "I don't have any lube with me... it hurts. But I don't want to stop."

Incubus’ breath caught before he responded, "Spit on your fingers and keep going."

Keith obeyed, spitting on his fingers and continuing to move them inside himself. The discomfort was still there, a sharp edge to the pleasure, and he let out a low moan. "It still hurts... but I like it so much," he admitted, his voice trembling with a mix of pain and twisted enjoyment.

Incubus’ breath was ragged on the other end. "You're such a menace..." he said, the words almost coming out like a groan.

Keith's voice was low and breathy as he whispered, "I'm trying to make it last as much as possible..."

He could hear Incubus moan softly in response. Keith shifted the phone, positioning it close to his dick, letting the wet, slick noises fill the call.

Incubus sighed deeply, almost like he was struggling to keep himself composed. "God..." he muttered, the arousal clear in his tone.

Keith asked, “Do you want to see a picture?”

There was a brief pause before Incubus responded, his voice slightly unsure. “Yes...”

“Just give me a moment,” Keith said, trying to keep his voice steady. He quickly adjusted himself, finding a spot where the light from his phone illuminated his body just enough. Sitting down, he took a photo that captured his cock, his legs, abs, and two fingers teasing his entrance. The darkness around him was pierced only by the light of the phone, which managed to highlight the details clearly.

He sent the image and waited. A few moments later, he heard Incubus on the other end, breathing heavily. His voice came through, jagged and incredulous. “You’re actually outside. Shit... Your body is beautiful. Fuck! Why are you doing this to me?”

Keith could hear the frustration and awe in Incubus’s voice. There was no pretense left; it was raw and genuine. Keith’s pulse quickened.

“I'm just doing what you asked me,” Keith whispered, trying to steady his breath.

Incubus's voice trembled slightly as he spoke, “Keep going. Cum.”

Keith chuckled softly, teasing, “Are you enjoying this?”

“Don’t ask me things like that,” Incubus replied, his tone more serious, almost pleading. “Just tell me what you’re doing.”

Keith let the silence linger for a moment before responding. “I just came,” he said, his voice low and satisfied.

He heard Incubus inhale sharply on the other end, the tension between them heavyp even through the phone. Then, with a mixture of hesitation and urgency, Incubus asked, “Send me another photo. Please.”

Keith positioned his phone and took a photo where everything—the evidence of his release, the state of his body—was clearly visible. 

A few moments later, he heard Incubus curse under his breath, followed by a soft whine. 

Keith smirked as he heard Incubus' reaction. He asked softly, "Did you like it?"

There was a brief pause before Incubus replied, his voice sounding flustered, "Yes... more than I probably should."

Chapter 27

Keith sat in the university lecture hall, the tension in the room palpable as the exam papers were handed out. He stared down at the sheet in front of him, his mind racing. He hadn't prepared at all; the last few weeks were a blur of parties, sleepless nights, and wasted days. 

As the exam began, Keith reached for his water bottle, unscrewing the cap and taking a slow sip. His eyes flickered to the small, nearly invisible paper stuck inside. The tiny text contained everything he needed—terms, formulas, key concepts—all carefully typed out, shrunk down, and taped to the inside of his bottle. From a distance, it looked like any regular water bottle, but if he looked closely enough, the answers were right there. 

He felt a pang of guilt but pushed it aside. He couldn’t afford to fail this course, not with how much he’d let his grades slip recently. His fingers moved swiftly, copying answers from the cheat sheet onto his exam. He kept his movements steady, calm, not drawing any attention. He was almost done.

When he finally finished, Keith turned in his paper, feeling a mix of relief and shame. As he walked out of the hall, he tossed the water bottle in the trash, a small part of him relieved to be rid of it.

Back at the apartment, the familiar sounds of laughter and banter greeted him. As usual, Dax and Lo were on the couch, a couple of girls with them, all deeply engaged in a D&D session. The sight pulled at Keith’s chest—he hadn’t played with them in ages, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Andres, who loved these sessions even more than he did.

Dax was the first to notice Keith. "Yo, Keith! What's up, bro? Finally, out of the dungeon?"

Lo chuckled, fist-bumping him as he walked in. "Yeah, man, haven’t seen you in a while. You still know how to roll a D20, or what?"

Keith grinned, but it felt a bit hollow. "Yeah, man, just been busy with, you know... university stuff," he lied easily.

One of the girls looked up from the game and smirked at him. "We’ve been missing Zaukras. I’m playing Helganth, Andres’ sorcerer. But it’s not the same without our noble knight."

Keith forced a smile, leaning against the wall. "Zaukras will be back… eventually. Just gotta get through some studying first."

Lo laughed, shaking his head. "Studying, huh? Sure, bro."

Keith gave a simple wave to the D&D company before leaving. He grabbed his bag and left the apartment, his mind already on the night ahead. The library was the last place he was going.

His true destination was the Internet café just a few blocks away. He needed Incubus again. 

Keith chose a computer in the far corner, away from prying eyes, and quickly logged into his account. His fingers trembled slightly as he typed in his credentials, the screen flickering to life in front of him.

But as soon as his profile loaded, his heart sank. The usual notification for Incubus was missing. He searched frantically, scrolling through his messages, but there was no sign of the familiar username. He clicked on Incubus’ profile, only to be met with a blank page that read: "This profile is inactive or has been closed."

Keith stared at the screen in disbelief. A cold wave of panic washed over him as the reality sunk in. Incubus was gone. His mind raced, trying to make sense of it. Had something happened? Did Incubus block him? Or worse, did he recognize Keith and decide to vanish before things could get even more complicated?

For a moment, Keith just sat there, the neon glow of the computer screen casting harsh light on his face. His heart pounded in his chest, his pulse quickening with a mix of anger and fear. 

He clenched his fists, frustration boiling beneath the surface. How could this happen? He was left with nothing but the quiet hum of the computer and the realization that the one person who made him feel something—anything—was now out of reach.

Keith didn’t waste a second. He immediately opened the support chat for JJ Boys Team, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he typed out a message asking about Incubus. He waited, his heart pounding in his chest, staring at the screen with a sense of urgency that bordered on desperation.

After what felt like an eternity, a response finally came through. 

"Thank you for reaching out. We regret to inform you that Incubus has terminated his collaboration with our site. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause."

Keith's stomach dropped as he read the message. The words felt like a punch to the gut. Terminated. 

He re-read the message, hoping he had misunderstood, but it was clear. Incubus wasn’t coming back. There was no explanation, no further information. Just a cold, impersonal notice that left him feeling even more hollow than before.

Keith closed the chat window and leaned back in his chair, staring blankly at the screen. For a moment, he just sat there, trying to steady his breathing.

With a sigh, Keith pulled out his phone, the screen lighting up his face in the darkness. He scrolled to Andres’ contact and pressed the call button, his heart heavy with a mix of hope and resignation. The phone rang once, twice, three times. He listened to the dial tone, each ring echoing louder in the silence around him.

But as usual, there was no answer.

He tried again, the stubborn part of him refusing to give up. But the result was the same: voicemail. Keith stared at the screen for a long moment and then he send a message...

Keith: Andy I need to ask you something. 

Andres: sorry for not picking up, I'm in the middle of something tell me, what is it?

Keith's hands trembled uncontrollably. His breath quickened. He swallowed hard, but his throat was dry. Logic and restraint were slipping through his fingers like sand, and all that was left was the overwhelming need.

His thumb hovered over the send button, his pulse roaring in his ears. Every part of him screamed to stop, to delete the  message —but he didn't. With one final, shaky breath, he pressed send, feeling the last shred of control slip away as the message was delivered.

The moment it was sent, a wave of nausea hit him, his stomach lurching violently, as he realized there was no going back. All he could do was wait, his mind spiraling into panic as he anticipated the fallout of his impulsive action.

Keith: Do you want to have sex with me?

Chapter 28

Keith paced around the small room, the faint scent of Andres still lingering in the air. His breath was shallow, chest tight with anticipation. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, fingers digging into his skin as if the pressure would somehow still the trembling in his hands. 

Every ounce of him was coiled with tension, the knot of emotions twisting tighter and tighter inside him with each passing second. The quiet hum of the room did little to soothe the storm that had been brewing within him for so long.

He heard the faint creak of the front door opening, and his heart lurched in his chest. Any moment now, Andres would come in, and they’d have the conversation Keith had been dreading for what felt like forever. 

His eyes darted to the closed door, a sense of inevitability weighing on his shoulders. There was no turning back now.

When the door finally opened, Andres walked in, his expression as unreadable as ever. He stopped short when he saw Keith waiting, arms still folded across his chest, a guarded look on his face. Andres raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing the tension in the room but not bothering to break the silence just yet.

Without wasting any time, Andres dove straight into it, his voice calm but firm. "Keith. Here's the thing. We've been friends for so long, right? And suddenly, out of nowhere, you come up to me and tell me that you want to fuck me." He paused, watching Keith closely, the weight of his words hanging in the air. "Now, don’t get me wrong. You’re really handsome. But let's be real here—you’re clearly just bi-curious, and I don’t have the time or energy to be your experiment until you get bored and dump me for your next girlfriend.”

Keith flinched at the words but quickly steeled himself. His throat was dry, and he struggled to find his voice. “I wouldn’t do something like that,” he said, his voice coming out weaker than he’d intended.

“Yeah?” Andres shot back, narrowing his eyes. “And what would you do? Are you trying to be in a relationship with me? Are you... are you maybe in love with me?”

Keith froze. The words hung between them, sharp and dangerous. His heart raced, and his mind screamed at him to say something, anything, but his lips remained sealed. Everything he wanted—everything he longed for—was right there, teetering on the edge, but he couldn’t bring himself to reach out for it. He had spent so long hiding, denying, pretending, and now, when the moment was here, he found himself mute. The weight of his feelings was too much, suffocating him.

His silence spoke louder than anything he could’ve said. Andres’ gaze hardened, disappointment flickering in his eyes as he let out a bitter sigh. "I thought so," he muttered, shaking his head. His shoulders slumped slightly, but he quickly turned his back to Keith, trying to hide the hurt and frustration that were simmering beneath the surface.

Keith could see it, though. He could see the vulnerability in Andres, the way he seemed so guarded, and he knew there was more to this than just his own mess of emotions. There was a hint of something deeper, a shadow of a past heartbreak that Andres hadn’t fully shaken off. It was clear he’d been used before, maybe objectified, treated as if he were nothing more than a temporary thrill for someone curious. And Keith, instead of addressing it, instead of opening up about his own feelings, chose to retreat behind a wall of snark.

Andres started to walk toward the kitchen, his back stiff with annoyance. 

“So, what? You don’t do casual sex?” Keith’s voice cut through the silence, biting and bitter. He couldn’t help himself. It was easier to lash out than to confront the truth.

“There’s no such thing as casual sex,” Andres replied without turning around. His voice was steady, but there was an edge of sadness to it. “There’s always something subconscious behind attraction.”

Keith’s chest tightened. The bitterness inside him grew, a sick, awful feeling that he couldn’t shake. He felt... unlovable. A surge of anger, frustration, and something darker rose within him, and before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.

“Oh, really? Did you feel like that when you recorded your dirty moans and handed them around for money?”

The moment the words left his mouth, Keith regretted them. He saw Andres freeze mid-step, his body going rigid. When Andres turned around, his face was a mask of shock and horror, his eyes wide with disbelief. “What did you just say?” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous.

Keith’s heart sank, and a cold wave of dread washed over him. He tried to open his mouth, tried to take it back, but no words came. He was frozen in place, watching as Andres’ expression shifted from shock to fury.

“How the fuck do you know about that?” Andres growled, his voice filled with menace.

Keith gulped, the reality of what he had just done crashing down on him like a tidal wave. A weak, tight-lipped smirk of pain twisted across his face as he whispered, “I was the user... subby boy...” The realization of how far he had fallen, of how much his actions had spiraled out of control, hit him like a punch to the gut.

Andres felt as if the ground had just dropped out from beneath him. The moment Keith uttered the words, "subby boy," it was as if everything around him shattered into a million pieces. His mind raced, trying to reconcile the Keith he had known with the man who had been hiding in the shadows, consuming his adult content in secret. How long had this been going on? How many times had they hung out, talked, laughed, while Keith, all the while, was harboring this dark secret?

There had been a point, during those calls with "subby boy," where Andres found himself looking forward to them a little too much. The playful banter, the teasing, even the more intimate moments had begun to blur the line between Incubus and Andres. He had started to feel something, something dangerous, something that went beyond the boundaries he had carefully set for himself. It wasn’t just about the money anymore; there had been nights when he had finished a call, heart racing, wondering if there was something more to it.

That was when he knew he had to stop. That’s why he had left the platform. He terminated his profile, telling himself it was for the best. He couldn’t let himself get emotionally involved with a client, especially not someone like "subby boy." But now, knowing that "subby boy" had been Keith all along made it worse. It was deeper, more personal. 

Every joke they shared, every glance, every casual touch—it all felt tainted now by this revelation. It was all a mess—one that neither of them had seen coming, and one that neither knew how to fix.

Andres’ face contorted with rage, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You fucking bastard,” he spat, marching toward Keith, his voice rising with every word. “What have you been doing behind my back?”

Keith took a deep breath, eyes darting away from Andres' accusing glare. His voice trembled slightly, not with emotion, but with the weight of his confession.

"Look, I wasn’t planning to… to do this. It just happened. You asked me to open your laptop that day to find your CV, remember? I was scrolling through your files and I stumbled upon a folder—Incubus. I didn’t think much of it at first, but when I searched..."

Keith paused, his jaw tightening as he tried to get through the explanation.
"You were perfect. It wasn’t something I could just walk away from. And yeah, I kept listening, kept watching. I couldn't stop. You were everything I needed from a Dom, and it wasn’t just because I knew it was you—it was because of how good you were at it."

His hands twitched as if they wanted to do something, but he kept them by his sides. "I didn’t mean for it to get this far, to let it get to this point. I just… couldn’t turn away. So I kept coming back, again and again, because there was no one else who could do it like you."

Silence stretched between them, thick with everything he couldn’t admit. Andres' voice cut through it like a blade. “So, that’s it? You just wanted a Dom?” 

His eyes searched Keith's face for an answer that would never come. The tension in the air was unbearable, but Keith just stood there, frozen, trapped in his own confusion, his own cowardice. He couldn’t tell Andres the truth.

It wasn’t just about control or submission, or the thrill of having someone tell him what to do. It wasn’t even about Incubus. No, it was something far more complicated, far more terrifying. He was madly, deeply in love with this man. But to say that out loud? That was something Keith couldn’t do. 

So he said nothing.

Keith flinched as Andres grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward with a rough pull. His heart pounded in his chest, fear and shame twisting in his gut as Andres dragged him toward the door, shouting. “Get out!”

Andres shoved him out of the room, trying to slam the door shut in his face. But Keith wasn’t done—not yet. He couldn’t let it end like this. He pressed his boot against the edge of the door, stopping it from closing. 

He pushed against the door, forcing his way back into the room. And then, before Andres could stop him, Keith grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a kiss—a kiss filled with desperation, pain, and longing.

His lips crashed against Andres’, and for a moment, Andres froze, caught off guard by the sudden, raw intensity of it all. But this wasn’t just a kiss—it was deeper, more urgent. Andres’ lips parted, and he pushed his tongue into Keith’s mouth, demanding, rough, and searching. Keith gasped at the sudden invasion, but quickly matched his energy. The taste flooded Keith’s senses, a mix of cigarettes and something sweeter, something that made him want more, want everything.

Andres bit down on Keith’s lower lip, hard enough to sting, and Keith moaned against his mouth, the sensation sending a shock through his body. The bite was sharp, almost punishing, and yet Keith craved it. His hands fisted in Andres’ shirt, pulling him closer.

Andres’ hands gripped the back of Keith’s neck, holding him in place as he deepened the kiss, their lips moving together with a frantic urgency. It was a battle for control. And Keith was losing.

Chapter 29

Andres stood before Keith, his gaze sharp and unreadable, the tension between them thick in the room. Keith’s heart pounded in his chest, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to hide the raw mix of anticipation and fear swirling inside him.

"You said you wanted to have sex with me," Andres finally said, his voice steady but edged with something darker. "What’s in it for me?"

Keith swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "You can do whatever you want to me."

Andres leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. "Whatever I want?"

"Yes," Keith breathed, feeling the weight of his words. It felt like surrender, but there was also relief in it. Relief in giving himself over to Andres.

Andres straightened, crossing his arms. He wasn’t about to let Keith dive into this without clarity. "Before we go any further, we need to make sure this is safe. No confusion, no risks. You want to be submissive, right?"

Keith nodded quickly. "I want to be completely submissive to you. I want… punishment."

"Punishment?" Andres asked, his voice cooling. 

"Yes." Keith admitted, shame tugging at his words. He couldn’t meet Andres' eyes as he said it.

Andres studied him for a long moment before speaking. "If we’re going to do this, you need to be clear about your limits. No playing games here. What are your hard boundaries?"

Keith felt the seriousness of the question hit him, grounding him in the reality of what was about to happen. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to think it through. "No asphyxiation. I don’t want anything that restricts my breathing."

Andres nodded, his face unreadable as he listened.
"Okay," he said, his tone firm but patient. "Anything else?"

Keith shook his head, still avoiding Andres' eyes. "No. Just that."

Andres’ expression softened just slightly, but his voice remained steady. "I need to know that you’re serious about this, Keith. What do you want from me, exactly?"

Keith looked up at him, the weight of everything he’d been hiding pressing down on him. "I want to feel like I’m yours. Completely."

Andres sighed, crossing the room and standing directly in front of Keith. "If I’m your Dom, you’ll be completely submissive to me. You’ll follow my rules, no exceptions. But you also need to know your safe word, and use it if things go too far."

Keith nodded, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I remember the safe word."

Andres leaned closer, his breath warm against Keith’s skin. "What is it?"

"Red," Keith replied softly.

"Good," Andres said, his voice a low rumble. "If anything makes you uncomfortable, you say it. No hesitation, no pushing yourself too far."

Keith swallowed hard, feeling his body tremble slightly. He wanted this—he wanted Andres to take control. But he also knew this was real. The lines between his fantasies and his reality had blurred for so long that the clarity Andres was giving him almost hurt.

It didn’t take long for them to decide when and where their long-awaited session would take place. Keith, restless with anticipation, made it clear that he wanted it to happen as soon as possible. There was no point in delaying what they both wanted, and after some brief back and forth, they agreed on meeting at a hotel that very night.

Later that evening, Andres arrived at the location Keith had texted him. Standing outside the entrance of the luxurious hotel, Andres felt a flicker of surprise.  

Andres couldn’t help but wonder how much money Keith actually had. Booking a place like this for just one night… it made him realize that Keith’s background might be even wealthier than he’d assumed.

Dressed in all black, Andres made his way up the elevator and through the softly lit hallways. The reality of what was about to happen started to settle in. This wasn’t one of their calls anymore. It was real, and Keith was waiting for him.

Reaching the suite’s door, Andres knocked once, firmly. After a brief moment, the door swung open, and there stood Keith, dressed casually but clearly on edge with anticipation. His eyes flicked down to the suitcase in Andres’ hand, but he said nothing at first, stepping aside to let him enter the room.

The suite was everything Andres expected from a hotel like this—lavish, extravagant, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the city skyline. The lights were dimmed, casting a soft glow across the room. Keith had clearly gone all out to make this night special.

They greeted each other, the tension palpable between them, and as the door clicked shut, Keith’s eyes were drawn back to the suitcase. "What’s in there?" he asked, his voice betraying the mix of nerves and excitement that had been building up for hours.

Andres set the suitcase on the bed and slowly unzipped it, revealing its contents. Inside, neatly arranged, were a variety of BDSM toys—restraints, floggers, clamps, blindfolds, and vibrators. Each item was laid out with careful deliberation.

"I’ve considered everything very carefully," Andres said, his voice low and steady, his eyes locking onto Keith’s. "I know exactly what I’ll use on you tonight. But everything we do is going to be safe. "

Keith nodded, swallowing hard as he took in the array of toys. 

Andres reached into the suitcase and pulled out a pair of black leather cuffs, his fingers brushing over the smooth surface as he looked back at Keith. "We’re going to start slow," he said, his voice almost a whisper. "But by the end of tonight, I want to push you. I want to take you to places you’ve only imagined."

Keith’s pulse quickened, and he nodded again, his body already responding to Andres’ words. The night was just beginning, and he was ready to surrender himself completely.

Andres stepped closer, his presence all-encompassing as he stood before Keith, who was barely holding himself together in the tension of the moment. Keith's breathing was shallow, every inch of him hyper-aware of Andres’ movements. Andres looked down at him with an air of authority, adjusting his glasses as he began undressing Keith slowly, deliberately.

He started with Keith's shirt, unbuttoning it one button at a time, his fingers brushing against the bare skin underneath. The touch was electric, sending shivers down Keith’s spine. Andres didn’t rush; he took his time, peeling back the fabric with purposeful slowness, letting each touch linger just long enough to tease. Keith could feel the heat from Andres' body, even though Andres remained fully clothed in his impeccably tailored all-black suit and polished shoes. The contrast between them was stark—Andres looking every bit the commanding presence, with his hair coifed back in a stylish manner and his glasses framing his sharp gaze.

This was exactly what Keith had been fantasizing about. Andres, looking untouchable, powerful, and completely in control, while Keith stood exposed and vulnerable under his hands.

Andres removed Keith’s shirt completely and tossed it aside, his eyes never leaving Keith’s. He slid his hands down to Keith’s waist, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants in the same slow, methodical manner. As he pulled Keith’s pants down, the deliberate touch of his hands against Keith's thighs made Keith's breath catch in his throat. Every movement was a reminder of who was in control tonight.

Andres remained silent, except for the occasional murmur of approval at the way Keith’s body responded to him. He wasn’t just undressing Keith; he was studying him, watching his reactions with keen interest. Once Keith was entirely stripped, Andres stood back for a moment, admiring the sight before him. Keith lay there, completely bare and exposed, every inch of him vulnerable under Andres' gaze.

Without a word, Andres reached into the leather suitcase, pulling out a set of handcuffs. He moved swiftly now, locking Keith’s wrists together, securing him in place. Keith’s arms were bound above his head, and he was laid back on the bed, his body tensing in anticipation. The cold metal of the cuffs contrasted sharply with the warmth of Andres' fingers as they continued to graze Keith’s skin.

Andres then pulled out something else from the suitcase—a spreader bar. Keith had never used one before, but he had read about it, fantasized about what it would feel like to be so completely open and exposed. Andres secured the spreader bar between Keith's legs, locking his ankles in place. The device forced Keith’s legs apart, keeping him spread wide and completely at Andres’ mercy.

The combination of the cuffs and the spreader bar made Keith feel utterly helpless, exactly as he had imagined. Andres, still fully dressed and standing tall in his black suit, loomed over him like a figure of authority. The power dynamic between them was palpable. Keith was entirely at Andres’ mercy, and he could feel it in every fiber of his being.

Andres adjusted his glasses once more, his lips curling into a small, almost predatory smile as he looked down at Keith. "You’re ready for this?" he asked, his voice low and commanding.

Keith swallowed hard, his heart racing. He nodded, unable to find his voice, but the answer was clear in his eyes. He wanted this. He wanted everything Andres was about to give him.

"Good," Andres murmured. "Because tonight, I’m going to take everything."

Andres stood back for a moment, admiring his work, taking in the sight of Keith spread out and bound on the bed. The tension in the room was palpable, a heady mix of desire, fear, and anticipation. Without a word, Andres reached into his suitcase and pulled out a flogger, the leather tails hanging ominously from his hand as he approached Keith.

Keith’s breath quickened as Andres swung the flogger experimentally, the sound of leather cutting through the air making him flinch before the first strike even landed. When it finally came, the flogger snapped against his inner thighs with a sharp crack, the sting biting into his skin and sending a jolt of pain through his body. Keith gasped, his muscles tensing, but there was no time to recover as Andres continued, delivering a series of well-aimed strikes across Keith’s thighs and up toward his chest.

Each stroke was measured, deliberate, with Andres watching Keith’s reactions carefully. The flogger snapped against his skin, alternating between the tender flesh of his thighs and the more sensitive areas of his chest. Keith’s body reacted instinctively, squirming under the restraints, but there was no escaping the sting of the leather.

"You’re already this close?" Andres said, a mocking tone creeping into his voice as he noticed Keith’s hardening member, almost twitching with need. "So desperate… so needy already." He shook his head in disapproval, but there was a cruel glint in his eyes as he reached into the suitcase again.

From the pile of neatly organized toys, Andres retrieved a cock ring and stepped closer to Keith, holding it up for him to see before slipping it on, tightening it around the base of Keith’s shaft with practiced ease. Keith groaned at the sensation, the tightness making his already throbbing arousal even more intense, trapping him in a state of frustrating arousal.

"You don’t get to finish yet," Andres scolded him, delivering another sharp slap to Keith’s member with the flogger. Keith gasped, the combined sensations of the ring and the sudden impact sending a shockwave through his body.

Andres’ hand moved back to Keith’s chest, fingers grazing over the sensitive skin before he pinched Keith's nipples sharply, drawing out a hiss from him. Keith’s back arched involuntarily, but Andres didn’t let up, twisting and pulling, teasing the delicate buds until Keith was squirming beneath him.

"You’re so sensitive here," Andres murmured, his voice taking on a darker edge as he reached into the suitcase again and pulled out a set of nipple clamps. Keith’s eyes widened as he watched Andres attach the clamps to his chest, the cold metal biting into his skin. The pain was sharp but dulled into a steady ache as Andres clipped the chain between them, giving it a gentle tug to test the tension.

Keith gasped, his body jerking involuntarily as the pull sent another wave of pain and pleasure rolling through him. Andres chuckled, clearly pleased with the reaction, and gave the chain another sharp tug, watching as Keith’s body writhed in response.

But Andres wasn’t done yet. He leaned over, reaching back into his collection of toys and retrieving a small bullet vibrator, a smirk forming on his lips as he showed it to Keith. "You’re going to love this," he murmured before attaching it to Keith’s trapped dick. The low hum of the vibrator filled the room as Andres switched it on, the subtle vibrations traveling through Keith’s cock, adding another layer of intense stimulation.

Keith gasped, his body tensing under the combined sensations—the throbbing from the cock ring, the sharp tugging of the clamps, and now the constant buzzing of the vibrator. It was overwhelming, and the look on Andres’ face made it clear that was exactly the point.

Andres continued to play with the chain between the clamps, tugging and twisting as the vibrator buzzed steadily against Keith’s cock. 

Andres gave the chain another sharp pull, sending Keith spiraling further into submission. Keith could only nod weakly, completely lost in the sensations, utterly at Andres’ mercy.

Andres stepped back for a moment, surveying Keith’s trembling, bound form on the bed. His breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his body strained against the constant barrage of sensations. 

From his suitcase, Andres pulled out a bottle of lube, the soft sound of the cap clicking open breaking through the heavy silence in the room. He poured a generous amount into his gloved hand, the cool liquid glistening as it coated his fingers. Without a word, he poured more directly onto Keith's exposed body, the slick substance dripping down his skin, pooling over his entrance and thighs.

Keith shuddered as the cold lube touched his heated skin, his body tensing in anticipation. Andres leaned forward, his eyes locked on Keith’s as he began to slowly work the lube around his hole, his gloved fingers gliding smoothly over the slick skin. He didn’t rush, instead taking his time, letting Keith feel every touch, every deliberate stroke.

Keith’s breath hitched as Andres finally pressed a finger inside, the sensation almost too much after everything he had already endured. He groaned, his head tilting back against the pillow as Andres moved his finger in and out, methodically loosening him up. All the while, his other hand remained firmly on the chain of the nipple clamps, giving them a sharp tug every now and then, reminding Keith that the pain was still very much part of the experience.

"Please..."

"You’re begging already?" Andres asked, his voice a low growl as he added a second finger, stretching Keith further. "I told you, you don’t get to finish until I say so."

Keith whimpered, his body trembling under the relentless pressure. "Please," he gasped again, his voice hoarse with desperation. "I can’t take it anymore... please, let me finish."

But Andres didn’t stop. If anything, his movements became even more deliberate, his fingers working Keith’s entrance with increasing intensity while he tugged at the clamps, sending fresh waves of sensation through Keith’s overstimulated body. Keith writhed under him, his body arching off the bed as he begged again, his voice cracking from the effort.

Andres didn’t reply, but a small smirk curled at the corner of his lips as he removed his fingers and reached back into the suitcase. Keith’s eyes fluttered open just in time to see him pull out a sleek, black dildo, the size of it making Keith’s heart race even faster. He bit his lip, his body tensing as Andres coated the toy in lube, preparing it for what was to come.

"Relax," Andres murmured, his voice taking on a dangerously soothing tone as he pressed the tip of the dildo against Keith’s entrance. "You’ll take it."

Keith moaned as the toy slowly began to stretch him, the pressure building as Andres pushed it further inside. His body tensed, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all. He was shaking, his muscles straining against the restraints, his voice a broken whisper as he continued to beg.

Andres wasn’t stopping, though. He kept a steady pace, pushing the dildo deeper with every thrust, making sure Keith felt every inch of it. His other hand remained firmly on the chain of the nipple clamps, pulling and tugging with each movement, keeping Keith on the edge of pain and pleasure, never allowing him the release he so desperately craved.

Andres paused, taking in the sight of Keith, utterly wrecked beneath him. Keith’s body trembled, his chest heaving with shallow breaths, his skin glistening with a mix of sweat and lube. His pleas had become desperate, the edge of pain mingling with the overwhelming desire for release. Keith’s voice cracked as he begged, and for the first time that night, Andres decided to show him mercy.

"Look at you," Andres murmured, his voice soft but commanding as he leaned over Keith. "You’ve been begging so sweetly… Maybe you’d prefer something real, instead of this toy."

Keith's eyes, hazy with need, flickered with a brief spark of hope. He gasped as Andres slowly pulled the dildo out of him, the sudden emptiness only heightening the ache in his core. Andres stood, his movements deliberate as he unbuckled his belt with a soft clink, unzipping his pants with the same slow, methodical precision that had defined the entire evening. Keith's eyes followed every motion, his breath quickening in anticipation.

When Andres revealed himself, Keith’s breath hitched. Andres smirked at the reaction, positioning himself between Keith’s legs, his gaze dark and intent as he looked down at him. Without a word, Andres pressed the tip of his member against Keith’s entrance, teasing him for a moment before slowly pushing inside. The sensation was immediate, the feeling of Andres filling him far more intimate and overwhelming than the toy had been.

Keith moaned, his entire body reacting to the slow, measured thrusts as Andres pushed deeper, his movements deliberate and controlled. Every inch of him stretched Keith in ways that made him feel like he was losing his mind, and yet, despite the rough dominance that had defined the night, Andres’ touch was now laced with something gentler. Andres leaned down, his lips ghosting over Keith’s before pressing into a soft, lingering kiss. It was slow, intimate, a contrast to the earlier roughness that made Keith’s heart pound harder.

Andres continued to move, his hips rocking with steady, powerful thrusts. Keith’s body responded immediately, the pleasure that had been building for so long now unbearable. He whimpered into Andres’ mouth, his lips parting as Andres deepened the kiss, their tongues meeting in a languid dance that sent shivers down Keith’s spine.

The sensation was too much. Keith could feel himself nearing the edge, but the tightness of the cock ring kept him trapped in a state of desperate, aching need. Andres’ pace quickened, his own breath becoming heavier as his release drew closer. With one final thrust, Andres climaxed, groaning softly against Keith’s lips as he spilled into him.

But even then, Andres didn’t stop.

Still inside Keith, Andres reached down, his fingers skillfully removing the cock ring. The sudden rush of sensation was overwhelming for Keith, who had been teetering on the edge for what felt like hours. Andres continued to move inside him, his thrusts steady and controlled, but now with the intent of letting Keith finally find the release he so desperately needed.

Keith cried out, his body convulsing with pleasure as the tightness in his core exploded into the most intense climax he had ever experienced. His entire body shook, tears springing to his eyes as the overwhelming wave of ecstasy crashed through him. The release was so powerful, so consuming, that Keith found himself crying from the sheer intensity of it all.

Andres moved with deliberate care, his demeanor shifting from the commanding figure that had dominated Keith to someone tender, focused on his well-being. Gently, Andres began removing the toys. He unclasped the nipple clamps first, soothing the sensitive skin with his fingers, then freed Keith from the spreader bar, and finally, he unbuckled the restraints from Keith’s wrists.

Keith winced slightly as blood rushed back to his extremities, but Andres was quick to soothe him. He reached for a soft, warm towel and wiped the remaining lube and sweat from Keith's skin with slow, comforting strokes. His touch was gentle, attentive, grounding Keith in the moment. Once Keith was clean, Andres retrieved a plush blanket from the bed and wrapped it snugly around his shoulders, holding him close for a few moments. 

Andres knew Keith needed this. He let Keith rest his head against his chest, running his fingers through his hair and whispering soothing words of comfort. Keith’s body slowly relaxed, his breathing returning to normal as the waves of euphoria receded, leaving him spent but content. Andres gave him space when needed, bringing him a glass of water and watching closely to ensure he was okay.

As Keith settled back into the present, his eyes drifted to the luxurious spread of food he had ordered earlier, now sitting on the room’s small dining table. The hotel, one of the finest in the city, had spared no expense when it came to the food selection. Platters of high-end cuisine were artfully arranged—there was lobster tail, grilled to perfection and served with a rich, buttery sauce; Wagyu beef carpaccio with shaved truffle; a selection of imported cheeses and cured meats; freshly baked artisanal bread; and a display of fresh fruit, from succulent strawberries to exotic passion fruit. On another platter, there was an array of decadent desserts: chocolate fondants, delicate macarons, and crème brûlée with a perfectly caramelized top.

Keith, now feeling a bit more himself, looked over at Andres and asked, “Do you want to eat?”

Andres smiled softly, his stern demeanor completely gone. “Yeah,” he said, “let’s eat.”

They sat side by side, the silence between them comfortable. Andres picked up a fork, expertly slicing a piece of the lobster tail before feeding it to Keith. He continued to feed him small bites of the rich food, their previous intensity now replaced by something softer, more intimate. Keith, in turn, did the same for Andres, feeding him pieces of bread dipped in olive oil, slices of cheese, and occasionally reaching for a glass of wine to sip. The food was exquisite, the flavors luxurious and indulgent, but they didn’t say a word, letting the quiet connection between them do all the speaking.

After a while, as they leaned back in their chairs, their bodies more relaxed, Andres looked over at Keith with a gleam in his eye. He set down his glass of wine and asked, his voice low and suggestive, “How would you feel if I took you against the window?”

Keith’s breath hitched slightly at the suggestion, his eyes widening. The thought sent a thrill through him—the idea of being completely exposed against the floor-to-ceiling window, with the city lights twinkling just beyond the glass, was both exhilarating and terrifying. He looked into Andres’ eyes, searching for something, and what he saw there made his heart race.

“I would love that,” Keith finally whispered, his voice breathless.

Andres stood, his movements slow and deliberate as he took Keith by the hand, leading him toward the window.

As they moved toward the floor-to-ceiling window, the soft glow of the city lights outside cast a dim, atmospheric light over the room. Andres slowly began to undress, shedding his black suit piece by piece until he stood completely bare, his skin catching the faint shimmer from the streets below. This time, there were no restraints, no toys, no dominance or submission—just the two of them.

Keith felt the shift in energy as Andres approached him from behind, his hands warm and firm as they slid over Keith’s shoulders and down his chest. With a gentle nudge, Andres guided Keith to stand facing the window, the cool glass against his fingertips. Keith’s breath quickened, but this wasn’t the frenzy of lust and control they’d experienced earlier. This was something different—something more profound.

Andres pressed his body against Keith’s back, wrapping his arms around him in a tender embrace. His lips found the crook of Keith’s neck, kissing the sensitive skin there as his hands roamed slowly over Keith’s chest and down his abdomen. Keith sighed softly, leaning into the touch, feeling completely enveloped by Andres. He closed his eyes as Andres moved inside him, every movement slow and deliberate, an expression of care rather than control.

The tenderness of it was overwhelming. The slow rhythm, the way Andres kissed Keith’s shoulder and neck, the warmth of his body pressed so closely against his own—it felt intimate in a way that Keith had never experienced before. It was as though all the walls he had so carefully constructed were crumbling, leaving him exposed not just physically, but emotionally.

As Andres continued, the silence became too much. Words that Keith had long kept buried began to rise, bubbling to the surface, desperate to be spoken.

“I’ve... I've had a crush on you for so long,” Keith confessed, his voice shaky. “I didn’t know what to do with it. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Andres didn’t respond, but his arms tightened slightly around Keith, pulling him closer as their bodies moved in sync.

“I’m so messed up,” Keith continued, his voice breaking. “I’ve been struggling with my... with my sexuality. I’ve been terrified of who I am... and I took it out on you. I sabotaged your relationship because I couldn’t handle my feelings. I didn’t know what to do, so I did the worst things possible.”

He paused, a sob catching in his throat as Andres kissed the back of his neck, never faltering in his tenderness.

“I’m sorry,” Keith whispered, tears starting to form. “I’m so, so sorry. I’ve been a coward. I’ve been lying to myself, to everyone... to you. I don’t know how to fix any of this, but I swear, I’ll be honest from now on. I’ll try to be better. Just... please forgive me.”

Still, Andres said nothing. He just held Keith tighter, his movements slow and rhythmic, offering comfort in the only way he knew how in that moment. The silence felt heavy but not empty—it was filled with understanding, with acceptance. Andres didn’t need to say anything; the way he touched Keith, the way he made love to him in that gentle, almost reverent way, spoke louder than any words could.

Keith’s tears flowed freely now, but they were not just tears of sorrow—they were tears of release, of letting go. He had finally spoken the truth, and though Andres didn’t offer forgiveness in words, the tenderness of their connection in that moment felt like absolution.

And so they continued, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the city lights beyond them shimmering like stars.

They fell asleep in each other's arms that night. Keith woke up feeling strangely calm. The warmth of the bed still lingered, but when he turned to where Andres should have been, there was only an empty space. He thought maybe Andres was in the shower. But when he glanced toward the bathroom door, it was wide open, the light off, and the sound of running water absent. 

Keith sat up and scanned the room. Andres’ clothes, the suitcase—everything was gone. Keith jumped out of bed, his heart racing. He checked the entire hotel suite—no sign of Andres. 

Keith thought that Andres probably just needed some space. After all, last night had been intense, and maybe Andres needed time to process. 

Returning home that morning, Keith decided it was best not to push things, he opted not to go knocking on Andres' door just yet. He would give him time. 

He crashed on his bed, exhausted, and slept deeply for the first time in a while. No nightmares, no suffocating guilt, just peaceful rest. When he woke, the sun was high in the sky—it was past noon. He stretched, feeling lighter, as though last night had lifted a weight from his shoulders.

Keith rolled out of bed and made his way to the shared kitchen, where he found Dax and Lo sitting at the small table, casually eating dinner. The smell of food filled the air, and Keith  grabbed a cup and poured some coffee, ready to tell them about the shift in his relationship with Andres, about how things had changed between them.

But before he could speak, Lo looked up from his plate with a casual tone that cut through the air like a knife. “Hey, man, do you have any idea why Andy moved out last night?”

Keith froze mid-sip. "What?"

Lo continued, unfazed by the shock on Keith’s face. “Yeah, dude, like in the middle of the night. It was so sudden. Did something happen?”

Keith set down his cup, his heart beginning to race. “Moved out? What are you talking about?”

Dax chimed in, leaning back in his chair, a frown crossing his face. “Yeah, it was such a ruckus, man. He was throwing his stuff into boxes, taking them out to some car. It was like he was in a rush or something. I asked him what was going on, but he just gave some vague excuse, handed us the last rent, and bolted. Left around 3 a.m.”

Keith’s stomach twisted as their words sank in. “You’re telling me... he’s gone?”

Lo nodded, picking at his food, clearly unaware of the bombshell he'd just dropped. “Yeah, man. Didn’t even say a proper goodbye. Just packed up his shit and left. Really weird, right?”

Chapter 30

The Art Café was a cozy, laid-back spot tucked into the heart of campus. It had an eclectic mix of worn wooden tables and mismatched chairs, giving it a comfortable, lived-in vibe. Large windows lined one wall, letting in streams of soft natural light during the day, but now, in the evening, they reflected the warm glow of hanging Edison bulbs. The walls were adorned with student artwork, some abstract, others capturing the lively energy of university life. A chalkboard menu above the counter displayed the day’s specials in messy but charming handwriting, and the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint aroma of pastries from behind the counter. It was a place where students came to study, socialize, or just escape for a while.

Keith sat hunched in the corner of the café, the muted buzz of conversation and the clatter of mugs barely registering in his mind. Every creak of the door made his heart race, only for the disappointment to settle in when it wasn’t the person he was waiting for.

Keith had arrived early, his eyes glued to the entrance every few minutes, watching as students and professors drifted in and out. It had been three months since the night at the hotel, three months of silence from Andres, and now finally, after dozens of unanswered messages, Andres had agreed to meet. But he was late.

Keith's phone buzzed once more in his hand, but it wasn’t the message he hoped for. He sighed, setting it face down on the table. He ran his hand through his long hair, trying to push down the anxious thoughts swirling in his head. He’d rehearsed what he wanted to say over and over again, but now that the moment was close, words were slowly losing their meaning.

Andres finally walked in. Keith’s heart jumped in his chest when he saw him. Andres' expression was distant, closed off. As he walked over to the table, his gaze didn’t meet Keith’s. He sat down quietly, his posture stiff.

Keith had already ordered coffee for them, his fingers tracing the rim of the cup in front of him. He remembered Andres' favorite evening blend—extra hot, with a splash of oat milk and a hint of cinnamon. Once, it had been a small, intimate detail he cherished, something that made him feel closer to Andres. Now, it felt twisted, like an echo of the obsession that had consumed him. The drink, sitting there untouched, mocked him. What had once been sweet now seemed like the habit of a mind that had crossed too many lines.

For a long time, neither of them said anything. The silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable, until Keith couldn’t stand it anymore. He swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly as he finally broke the silence.

“I’m sorry, Andres,” Keith began, his voice low and strained. “I know I’ve said it a hundred times already, but I need you to hear me out.”

Andres didn’t respond, just stared at the coffee cup in front of him, his fingers tapping idly on the handle.

Keith took a deep breath, steeling himself to confess everything. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I found out about Incubus by accident. It was when you asked me to open your laptop to look for your CV, remember? I wasn’t looking for anything like that… but when I saw it, I got curious. I… I checked it out.”

He saw Andres flinch at the mention of Incubus, but still, he said nothing.

“I shouldn’t have,” Keith continued, his voice thick with regret. “But it became an obsession. I started listening to everything. Every video, every audio clip. I even collected them, downloaded them. And then… it went further. I started collecting your pictures. Photos we took together, photos I took of you when you weren’t looking. I know how wrong that is, and I know it was sick, but I just… I couldn’t stop myself.”

Keith’s heart raced as he pressed on, knowing that this would be the hardest part to admit. “I created a fake profile. I lured Edgy in, made him flirt with me just to break you two up. I was desperate for your attention, for anything from you. And when I saw that Incubus wasn’t available anymore, I lost it. I didn’t know how to handle any of it.”

Andres’ silence was suffocating, his eyes still not meeting Keith’s. Keith felt his throat tighten, but he pushed forward.

“I feel awful, Andres. I know no apology can undo what I did, and I can’t take back the way I treated you. But I’ve been going to therapy. I’ve been trying to fix myself, to understand what I’ve been doing. I came out to people, and I’m planning to come out to my family too. I’m trying to live my life truthfully now, no matter what happens. I don’t want to hurt anyone like that again.”

Keith’s voice broke slightly. “I know this was the worst thing I’ve ever done, but you’re important to me. It wasn’t just about sex. It never was. I—” He stopped himself from saying the words that were right on the tip of his tongue, the words that would make things worse.

He waited, his heart pounding in his chest, for Andres to say something, anything.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Andres exhaled and spoke. His voice was cold, distant. “This is all… too much for me. You complicated things way too much.”

Keith opened his mouth to respond, but Andres shook his head. “All of this—what happened between us, even that night at the hotel—it wasn’t healthy. None of it was. I regret that night. I regret it more than anything.”

Keith’s heart shattered. His eyes stung as tears began to well up. He forced himself to blink them back, but it was no use. “I probably deserve that,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, as a tear slipped down his cheek.

Andres finally looked at him, but there was no warmth in his eyes. “I can’t do this,” he said quietly, standing up from the table.

Keith watched helplessly as Andres turned and walked away, disappearing through the café door without looking back.

Keith sat there, the tears now flowing freely down his face, his body shaking with the sobs he had been holding in. 

Chapter 31

Ten years later

 

Ten years had passed. Not too much time. Not too little time. For Keith, it felt like a lifetime. Because time passes slowly and beautifully when you live fully, not just half a life.

What had been his life before that night in the hotel ten years ago? It was a time that taught him who he was. Back then, he had waited for that one moment each day that made him feel alive—just to be real for a few fleeting hours. And all the other hours? Dreadful hours of waiting.

But now... Now it was different. Time had proven true what people say—it heals almost everything. No bitterness anymore. No pain. Just strength and an uncompromising pride. He had lost many things to the truth, including people. He was alone in many ways. But he had himself. And that was enough. No more shame. Only truth. Only freedom.

His phone buzzed. The time was 12:35. Keith walked through a dark, remote part of the city. Sirens echoed faintly in the distance, accompanied by random bursts of laughter from nearby streets. The city was alive, but in this shadowed corner, it felt quiet, still. He slipped his phone from his back pocket, ignoring a slew of notifications, focusing only on the one message that mattered. His back pocket now held a slightly more stylish pair of trousers—sharper than the jeans he used to wear when he was younger, troubled, living with Lo and Dax. And Andres. Of course, Andres. Who could ever forget Andy? Certainly not Keith.

It was strange, yet Keith, the man he had become, couldn’t deny that what had happened between him and Andres was his first love. As fucked-up as it had been. How romantic.

But then again, it was romantic, in a dark and unflinchingly honest way. Because Andres had been the first person to see Keith’s true colors, the ones he had kept hidden beneath layers of black paint. How Keith had yearned for someone to scratch away at those layers, letting the colors bleed through in brilliant reds and purples.

The message on his phone read: "Tonight. Live show at DBS club. Use code 38."

Keith checked the location on Google Maps, then slipped his phone back into his pocket. His eyes scanned the dark streets around him. After another 15 minutes of walking, he reached the venue. Disappearing inside the nondescript building, he approached the entrance.

"38," he said to the person at the gate.

It was time.

Inside, the room was dim, bathed in a deep, sweet red glow, with blue lights casting a stark contrast, creating a mesmerizing mix of warmth and coolness. A stage stood in the center, illuminated like a canvas waiting for the artist's first stroke. Two men dominated the platform—one dressed in leather, the other adorned in lace and pearls. The crowd lounged on velvet couches, and some stood at the edge of the stage, captivated. One woman, with opera glasses in hand, watched with intense focus as the performers turned pain and pleasure into a stunning work of art.

Keith moved gracefully through the crowd, settling on a velvet couch with a glass of wine. It wasn’t his first live BDSM show, and guilt no longer haunted him. Those demons had long since been conquered.

As the show unfolded, a man approached.

"Keith," the man greeted him. He was a former Dom of his. The kind Keith had left behind.

Keith glanced up, unimpressed, taking a slow sip of his wine. The man had the nerve to sit down beside him, crossing his legs with an air of familiarity.

“If you want to—” the man began, but Keith cut him off.

“No. Not in a million years,” Keith said, his tone sharp and dismissive.

The man chuckled, leaning closer. “Still holding onto some animosity, I see. What a pity.” He reached out to touch Keith’s leg.

Keith’s gaze hardened, and his eyes flashed with warning. His voice was like ice. “Don’t touch me.”

“Oh, come on now... I’m sure you’ve got some pent-up frustration. Word gets around. I know you haven’t had a Dom in a while. I’m always available,” the man suggested, his smirk betraying his intentions.

Keith’s expression didn’t falter. “And you’ll stay available. I’m not interested in men who don’t understand boundaries or know when to leave the practice in the bedroom.”

In the past, expressing himself like this would’ve been nearly impossible for Keith. He had been the master of bottling things up, keeping his thoughts and feelings locked away until they exploded in unhealthy ways. But not anymore. 

The man’s smug demeanor faltered, and he stood up, visibly annoyed. Without another word, he walked away, leaving Keith with a quiet, satisfied smile.

The next morning, Keith went about his routine. After a long day of work, he sought his usual refuge—a small, peaceful park tucked away from the city’s hustle. It was his creative sanctuary. With his graphic equipment slung over his shoulder, he found his spot on a wooden bench, setting up to take photos, write, and sketch. This had become his ritual, a moment to let his thoughts flow freely.

Around him, the park buzzed with familiar energy. The painters had already set up their easels, their canvases splashed with colors. A street performer he recognized was playing soft music on a violin, adding to the peaceful ambiance. There was also the woman with her fluffy dog, the one who was always around, casually chatting with others while her dog explored the grass.

"How’s the creative flow today, Keith?" asked one of the painters as she mixed colors on her palette.

"Better than yesterday," Keith replied with a grin, adjusting the focus on his camera as he caught the fading sunlight hitting the trees just right. "Though I think it’s more the park than me. The light’s perfect."

The woman laughed, shaking her head. "You always give the credit to everything but yourself."

They fell into an easy rhythm of conversation. The violinist chimed in between songs, playfully teasing Keith about how he should photograph her next performance, while the dog-walking woman waved her goodbyes for the evening. It was a familiar, light-hearted exchange that always made the park feel like a small, supportive community.

As they chatted, the sky began its nightly transformation, shifting from blue to a warm red, then blending into vibrant orange, and finally settling into deep purples. Children played with a ball nearby, their laughter mixing with the occasional sound of someone leading a group yoga session. The park was alive, yet peaceful, an oasis of calm amid the chaos of everyday life.

It was then that Keith’s eyes caught sight of something he hadn’t noticed before. Near the far side of the park, tucked beneath a large oak tree, was a tent. Its fabric was dark, with silver symbols embroidered along its edges. A small wooden sign out front read: "The Black Cards of What Was, What Is, and What Will Be." A fortune teller.

Curiosity stirred in Keith. He had never been one for these kinds of things, but today, something about it pulled him in. Maybe it was the colors in the sky.

As he approached, the flap of the tent lifted, revealing a woman cloaked in deep indigo robes, her eyes sharp and knowing. "Come in," the fortune teller said, her voice like a soft murmur carried on the evening breeze.

Keith hesitated for only a moment before stepping inside.

In the middle of a small table lay a deck of dark cards, their backs etched with swirling patterns of silver. Without a word, the fortune teller shuffled the deck, spreading the cards before Keith.

"Pick four," she said.

Keith’s fingers hovered over the deck before drawing his first card. He turned it over: Spring.

The fortune teller smiled faintly. "How beautifully your wounds have healed. All your magic, all your power—birthed by pain and distress. You've become the person you were always meant to be, shaped by your struggles."

Keith’s heart beat a little faster as he reached for the second card. He flipped it to reveal "The Ghosts".

The fortune teller's voice lowered, her eyes meeting Keith’s as if seeing through him. "People left you behind when you embraced your truth. Your family. Your friends. It’s the price of authenticity."

Keith swallowed, feeling a familiar ache in his chest. The truth stung, but it wasn’t new to him. He had lived this truth for years now.

He pulled the third card: The Trees.

"But not everyone left," the fortune teller said softly, her tone offering a strange kind of comfort. "There are a few who stayed. Those who see your soul for what it is and remain by your side."

Keith nodded slowly, a mix of gratitude and sadness washing over him. His mind flickered to the few friends who had stuck with him, the people who had accepted him, flaws and all.

Finally, with a deep breath, he drew the last card. 

"The Horned God of the Night"

The fortune teller’s gaze sharpened. Her voice took on a weight that seemed to echo in the small space. 

"He has marked your heart. His presence lingers, even after all these years. He will return to you."