Trigger Warning: ⚠️ ⚠️
This chapter contains sexually explicit content intended for a mature audience. Reader discretion is advised.

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Larry was slumped in the passenger seat of my car while the driver I'd called navigated the dimly lit streets.

I felt... off.

My brain was wrapped in static, thoughts sluggish, like they were trying to push through a thick fog. My limbs were heavy, but at the same time, my senses felt sharp—too sharp. The headlights from passing cars cut through the darkness like blades, the distant hum of the city ringing in my ears. The leather seats beneath me were cold, smooth, and I could feel every shift, every movement, every vibration from the road.

Larry was talking—something about the club, about his shift, maybe even about me—but I wasn't listening. His words blurred together, just another part of the background noise.

"I feel like throwing up," I muttered.

Larry laughed. A deep, full-bodied laugh that grated against my nerves.

"Is this your first time drinking?"

"Yes." I pressed my fingers against my temple, trying to dull the throbbing in my head.

Larry laughed again. Louder this time. My fingers twitched. I stared at him, perplexed, wondering what the hell was so funny.

"Oh, wait. You're serious?" he asked, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Why would I joke about that?"

"Oh shit." He reached out, dragging me closer, and started patting my back like I was some sick pet. "You poor thing."

I tensed at the contact, but I didn't push him away.

"How much further?" I asked, shifting my gaze to the driver.

The man glanced at the GPS before meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. "About five minutes."

I nodded.

The hotel we were heading to was the first one that popped up when I searched good hotels near me. I didn't care about the price, the location, or even the name. I just needed a place.

Because Larry wasn't coming to my house.

That was one thing I was sure of.

We pulled up to a towering glass structure, the gold-plated sign reflecting the city lights. The entrance was framed by sleek, sculpted hedges and a row of luxury cars lined the front, their polished exteriors gleaming under the street lamps. The driver handed the keys to the valet, and I slid him a tip before stepping out onto the pavement.

The lobby was bathed in a warm, golden glow. High ceilings stretched above us, lined with cascading chandeliers that sent fractured light dancing across the marble floors. The air smelled expensive—freshly polished wood, subtle hints of lavender and bergamot, and the crisp, sterile scent of wealth.

It reminded me of my childhood and I hated it.

The front desk was an expansive slab of black marble, its surface so smooth it reflected the concierge's movements. Behind it, a woman in a tailored navy suit offered a professional smile, her eyes flicking over us with barely concealed curiosity.

I knew what we looked like.

Larry, slightly tipsy but still cocky, his posture relaxed, unbothered. And me, standing rigid, eyes scanning every inch of the space—the security cameras nestled in the corners, the man in a tailored suit sipping whiskey at the bar, the couple laughing too loudly near the elevator.

I felt more alert like this. Like the alcohol had burned away the excess noise in my head, leaving only the important things behind.

I paid for the room without hesitation, barely glancing at the amount. A key card was slid across the desk, and I took it, the weight of it cool against my fingertips.

The elevator ride was silent. Larry leaned against the mirrored wall, scrolling through his phone, while I watched the numbers climb, my reflection staring back at me—eyes dark, mouth set in a straight line.

The doors slid open with a soft chime.

Larry fumbled with the key card, swiping it twice before the lock finally clicked open. The room was spacious, dimly lit, with a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city skyline. A king-sized bed sat in the center, its crisp white sheets untouched. A leather armchair was positioned near the window, a sleek glass coffee table in front of it, and the minibar was stocked with bottles of top-shelf liquor.

It smelled clean—like fresh linen and faint traces of expensive cologne.

Suffocating

Larry helped me toward the bed, guiding me down gently. The mattress dipped beneath my weight, the softness of it unfamiliar.

"I'm sorry I'm such a mess," I muttered, pushing myself up. Larry dropped to his knees in front of me, fingers already reaching for my shoes. "It's okay," he said, voice teasing. "I'm actually finding this kinda hot."

I rolled my eyes, letting my head fall back against the pillows as he pulled them off.

I heard him move across the room, the soft rustle of fabric as he shrugged off his coat and tossed it onto the table.

Then he turned to face me.

I couldn't help but focus on the wrong things, like how Josh would never stand like that—casual, confident, like he already knew how the night would end.

Josh had sharper features, high cheekbones and a jawline so precise it looked sculpted. Larry's were softer, rounded, framed by thick curls that were wild, untamed. His skin was golden, where Josh's was porcelain smooth.

Josh's eyes were dark, unreadable pools of ink, calculating and expressive. Larry's were warm brown, easy to read, full of amusement and something playful.

Josh moved with an air of grace and elegance-fluid, effortless, precise. Every movement of his was intentional, controlled. Larry? He moved with the casual swagger of someone who had nothing to prove, someone who took up space without a second thought.

Josh had made me feel like I was standing at the edge of a cliff, staring down at something I shouldn't want but couldn't turn away from.

Larry?

Larry didn't make me feel anything at all except curiosity.

And it was driving me insane.

"So," he said, tilting his head. "How do you want to do this?"

I groaned, rolling onto my side, facing him.

"You said you and Josh..." I hesitated, my throat tightening around the words I didn't want to say.

Larry smirked, lounging on the sofa opposite my bed. He wanted to see my reaction, to watch me squirm as l lay sideways, eyes locked on him.

"Had sex?" he finished for me, tilting his head like he was amused.

"Tell me about that."

Larry let out a low chuckle. "I know I agreed to be the rebound, but aren't you making it painfully obvious right now?"

I groaned, running a hand over my face.
"I'm sorry. You're right."

Larry laughed again, standing up and strolling toward the bed. "It's okay," he said easily. "I know what I signed up for." He sat down beside me, close enough that I could smell his cologne-something citrusy with an edge of spice. "So, what do you want to know?"

"Everything. How you two met. Who seduced who. What you did together."

Larry hummed, getting up again to dig through his bag. He pulled out a small ziplock filled with round, deep-purple pills and held them up with a grin.

"We met because of this."

I frowned. "I don't get it."

"Like I said, it was my first day on the job, and Josh walked up to me, straight-faced as hell, and asked if I had—" he twirled the bag between his fingers, "—Velvets."

"Velvets?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I got all defensive, went off on him, asked why the hell he thought I was pushing pills, called him racist."

My stomach twisted. "Josh was racist?"

Larry snorted. "What? No. I was a dealer. I just wanted to fuck with him."

I let out a small, involuntary smirk. I hated to admit it, but Larry was funny.

He walked back, flinging the bag at me. I caught it midair, examining the pills through the plastic.

"He's obsessed with this shit," Larry murmured, his voice dipping into something dark.

I flicked my eyes back to him. "What are they?"

"Heaven," he said simply, popping one into his mouth. He swallowed it dry, then turned to face me again, his pupils already starting to widen. "So, now you know how we met. As for who seduced who..." His smirk stretched wider. "I did the seducing. Can't really blame him. I already knew his reputation, but I wanted a taste."

His voice dropped lower, his hand grazing my knee.

"And as for what we did? Why talk when I can show you?"

Before I could react, he pushed my back onto the mattress, straddling me in one swift motion.

I felt his weight settle over my hips, his bulge pressing against me. He was grinning down at me, teasing, waiting.

He dipped lower, aiming for my lips—

I turned my head at the last second.

"I'm sorry," I muttered. "I'm just not..."

"Shh," he whispered, pressing a finger to my lips.

His other hand gripped my chin, tilting my head to the side. He didn't hesitate before his mouth latched onto my neck.

The warmth of his lips sent a sharp shiver down my spine. My skin erupted in goosebumps. My mind felt heavier, hazier, sinking into the heat of the moment like quicksand.

My fingers curled into his thick curls, dragging through them before I gave a sharp tug, pulling him up.

Larry chuckled, eyes dark with amusement.

"Did you do this to Josh, too?"

His lips curled into something smug. "No, actually. I learned this from him."

The words sent something sharp and violent through me.

Josh taught him this?

Josh kissed him? Touched him? Took him apart piece by piece and put him back together?

My teeth clenched. My pulse slammed in my ears, louder than the city outside, louder than Larry's breathing, louder than anything else.

How many men had touched Josh like this? How many had felt him, known him in ways I never had?

Each of them had peeled back layers of him, glimpsed something raw, something real-something I could only imagine.

It made my skin crawl.

It made my blood boil.

Josh let them in. He chose them. Again.
And again. And again.

But not me.

Never me.

All he did was run from me.

The thought rooted itself in my chest like a thorn, digging deeper, deeper, deeper-until I could almost taste the blood.

I loosened my grip on Larry's curls, smoothing my fingers over them instead.

My touch turned slow. Gentle.

"Show me," I murmured.

Larry blinked. "What?"

"Show me what he did to you."

My voice came out lower, rougher than before.

A slow smirk crept across his face. "You sure?"

I didn't answer. I just pushed his head back down to my neck.

I felt him smirk against my skin before his teeth scraped over my throat. He bit down - not too hard, just enough for the sting to melt into something else-then soothed over it with his tongue.

Josh did this?

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Would he do this to me? The thought made my head spin, made my breath hitch.

The heat from Larry's body, the friction between us, the weight of his touch—it all blurred together, mixing into something overwhelming.

"Give me one too," I tell him, pointing to the pills now lying on the table beside us.

Larry glances at me, arching a brow. "It's pretty strong. Can you handle it?"

"Just give it to me," I sigh, impatience creeping into my tone.

He picks up one of the pills and places it in my hand. Without hesitation, I toss it into my mouth and swallow dry.

Larry watches me carefully before murmuring, "You and Josh are more alike than you think." His fingers drift to the hem of my shirt, gripping the fabric and pulling it over my head. I sit still, watching as he slowly unbuttons his black dress shirt-the one he wears for work.

"Wanna help?" he asks, smirking.

"Did Josh do that too?" I counter.

He nods. Hesitantly, I reach forward, my fingers finding the buttons. My hands feel slow, clumsy. I think I'm starting to feel the drug's effects. My body warms from the inside out, and my brain feels even hazier than before.

I help him slip his shirt off, and his bare chest comes into view. Even though everything is slightly blurred, I reach out and press my palm against his skin. Larry inhales sharply.

His fingers draw a straight line from my chest to the waistband of my trousers, fumbling with my belt.

"What are you doing?" I ask, shaking my head, trying to clear the dizziness.

"You wanted to know what I did, right?" His voice lowers. "Let me show you."

Josh? He was here? When did he get here?

I shake my head again, but it's still Josh's face in front of me, straddling me. My brain knows it's Larry, but I don't care. I allow myself to indulge in this moment, even if it's just a hallucination from the drug I took earlier.

Is this why Larry called them heaven? Because right now, I feel like I'm floating on clouds.

"I'll take care of you," Josh whispers.

I lean back, giving in, letting him do whatever he wants. I don't care. I want him to.

His hands slide down inside my trousers, inching painfully close to my crotch. Anticipation coils hot and tight in my stomach. My brain is foggy, but the warmth of his skin against mine is intoxicating. I want more. I need more.

"Stop teasing me."

Larry-Josh-laughs. His unrestrained chuckle fills the room before he leans down and captures my earlobe between his teeth, making me groan.

"It's more fun this way," he whispers, his breath sending shivers down my spine.

His hands trace the ridges of my abs as he lowers himself between my legs. My mind flashes to that moment in the studio— when his eyes had betrayed his desire for just a fraction of a second.

I groan as his hot breath fans over my trousers, teasing me. My erection strains painfully against the fabric.

"Take this off," I urge him.

He moves to unbuckle my belt, but I stop him, placing my hand over his.

"With your mouth."

His eyes widen slightly, his lips parting just a little.

So fucking hot. He's driving me insane.

Larry shifts onto his knees between my legs, interlocking his hands behind his back. Then, he leans forward, gripping my zipper between his teeth and pulling it down slowly. Saliva drips from the corner of his mouth, dampening the fabric.

"Fuck," I moan.

He yanks my trousers down with his teeth, freeing my aching erection. I can't take it anymore. I lift my hips enough to shove my boxers off.

When I glance down, Larry is still on his knees, hands bound behind him, his gaze locked onto my dick like it's a meal he can't wait to devour.

"I want you in my mouth," he murmurs.

My dick twitches at his words. He smirks.

"I see you want that too." His voice is low, dripping with seduction.

"Then why are you still talking?"

"Want me to show you what Josh liked?" he asks.

Something about hearing Josh's name from his lips makes my stomach twist.

And just like that, the haze clears.

I see Larry clearly now-his cocky smirk, his sharp gaze. My erection still throbs painfully, but my mind suddenly feels more alert. Was it the drugs?

"Sit here, legs down," he instructs, motioning for me to move to the edge of the bed.

l obey. My feet touch the cold tiles, grounding me momentarily. Larry picks up my belt with his teeth, then crawls toward me.

"What are you doing?"

"You said I couldn't use my hands," he says, dropping the belt at my feet. "So tie them up."

"I don't-"

"You don't have to be shy." He shrugs. "We all have our kinks. I actually enjoy being tied up and used."

Something about the way he says it makes my breath hitch.

Did I like this?

Why did the thought of Larry bound and at my mercy make me ache with insatiable need?

"You don't mind that?" I ask, my hands now tangling in his curls, playfully detangling them.

"Not at all."

He turns his back to me. I pick up the belt and wrap it around his wrists, tightening it until it's secure. When he turns back around to face me, his gaze is heated.

"Now what?" I ask.

"You tell me."

I stand up fully, my erection casting a shadow over his face. He leans closer, nuzzling against my dick like it's something he wants to be consumed by.

"That feels good," I groan. "Now show me what Josh liked."

A dark smirk crosses his lips. "Gladly."

I look down and see he's also hard as a rock, rubbing his thighs together to gain some friction. I was eager to thrust my dick into his mouth but I wanted him to show me what he did with Josh.

Before I can say anything else, his mouth is on me, lips wrapping around my dick, taking the head in first before sinking down, inch by inch, until I feel the tight heat of his throat.

"Shit," I moan, pleasure crashing over me like a tidal wave. Is this why people got addicted? Is this why Josh did this all the time?

He doesn't stop. He doesn't even hesitate. His throat constricts around me, sending electric shocks through my entire body.

I grab his hair, my fingers tightening in the strands as he moves, taking me deeper, pushing my restraint to the breaking point.

"Ease into it," I groan, guiding him with his hair at a controlled pace.

He moans around my dick, the vibrations sending me spiraling. He suctions his lips around me and I throw my head back in pure ecstasy.

"You're so fucking good at this." I say in the midst of the haze.

His eyes flick up to mine, glossy with unshed tears as he stretches his lips around my girth. Maintaining eye contact, he pulls his head back with a pop sound at the end.

I watch him as he moves further down and takes one of my balls into his mouth, while his hands pump me, stroking me slowly.

I throw my head back, chills running down my back. He stops and uses his tongue to go down my length, stopping to tease the tip and lapping up the precum.

I can't stop myself. I thrust into his mouth, fucking into the heat of him, unable to control the way my body chases the high. He doesn't stop me, doesn't flinch, instead he keeps his jaw wide open to take me and constricts his throat around me each time.

"Use me, use me to get off," he cries around my dick.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I pant. The pleasure is unbearable, a wildfire consuming every nerve in my body.

Larry moans, urging me on, and I let go, chasing that final moment—

"I'm gonna-"

"It's okay. I can take it."

I keep thrusting into him like a madman, my fist tightens around his curls, pulling harder and with a strangled cry, I cum, my whole body seizing with pleasure. He doesn't pull away. He takes it all, his tongue lapping up anything that escapes.

Then, as the high fades, cold reality crashes into me.

My stomach twists violently.

"That was.." Larry starts, licking his lips and biting the lower one seductively.

"I'm sorry, I don't feel so good."

I lurch forward, gagging-

And then I'm vomiting.

I retch violently, my body convulsing as I cough and wheeze, clutching my chest. My heart pounds like it's trying to break free. Am I dying?

The nausea finally subsides, leaving my stomach hollow and raw. Darkness creeps at the edges of my vision, and my body gives in, collapsing onto the cold floor. The chill seeps into my skin, strangely soothing.

I press myself against it, relishing the cold. In my hazy mind, I picture Josh looking down at me. I manage a weak smile before my eyes flutter shut, and everything fades to black.

ฅ^._.^ฅฅ^._.^ฅ

"Alright, that's enough. Wake up."

Larry's voice jolts me.

I try to open my eyes, but the blinding light forces me to squint. Slowly, l adjust, blinking away the disorientation.

He's sitting on the sofa, fully dressed, watching me with amusement.

"What happened?" I croak, my throat dry and sore.

"You fucked my mouth, gave me blue balls, and then passed out," he says, smirking. "Remind me never to give you drugs again."

He grabs the jug on the table and pours me a glass of water before handing it over. I take it gratefully, downing it in one go before holding the glass out for more. Larry raises a brow, glancing between me and the jug before shaking his head. Still, he refills it.

"I can't believe I had to clean up your vomit. You're lucky you're hot."

I don't know what to say. l've never been the idiot who needed looking after- I was always the one doing the looking after.

"Thanks," I say, and he grins.

"Also... for last night. I don't remember much, but I remember how it felt."

"Yeah, you're welcome," he says, leaning in to swipe his thumb over my lower lip. "And you owe me. Trust me-l plan to collect."

"Get dressed. I have to be at work soon." He says after a few minutes.

I nod and hurry to the shower, letting the warm water wash away the remnants of the night. When I step out, my clothes— cleaned by the hotel-are waiting. I dress quickly, and we leave together.

As we wait for the valet, I keep stealing glances at Larry. What made me go with him last night? He's nothing like Josh, yet I was drawn to him. Not in the all-consuming way Josh affects me, but there was something there-something I wouldn't mind indulging in again.

And he's good with his mouth, my inner voice taunts.

I suppress a smirk. That much was true. Even now, the thought makes my body hum with anticipation.

Then, laughter cuts through the morning air, yanking my attention away. I turn instinctively-and there he is.

Josh.

He steps out of the hotel with a guy I don't recognize. As he moves further, his gaze locks onto mine.

My breath catches. My lips part slightly as I take in the sight of him-with someone else. While I've been agonizing, waiting for him to reach out, he's been out fucking other people.

Larry spots my car pulling up and grabs my hand, tugging me toward it.

Josh's eyes zero in on the motion. He looks away for a brief moment, then back again-and this time, his gaze burns. Fiery. Intense. I can feel the anger radiating off him.

"Come on, Mark. I'm almost late for work," Larry whines, oblivious to the silent storm brewing between Josh and me.

I follow him into the car, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Why the fuck was Josh mad?

What did I do wrong?

He was coming out of the hotel with someone too.

Was I overthinking this?

The thoughts spiral, twisting and tightening inside me until they become unbearable. I need an outlet-something to break, to pound into oblivion.

Or maybe, I just need to stop feeling altogether.

Josh is driving me insane.

Authors note:
It gets worse 💀
I apologize in advance
Word count: 3983