The elevator doors slid open on the eleventh floor with a soft, exhausted ding that echoed down the empty hallway. The first thing everyone saw was Beckett standing there completely naked in the middle of the corridor, pale skin glowing under the harsh fluorescent lights, his slim frame perfectly still like a statue someone had forgotten to dress. No robe, no sunglasses, just bare everything smooth chest, narrow hips, that tiny nub hanging soft between his legs, and the same blank, monotone expression on his face as always, like waiting naked for a group of strangers was the most normal thing in the world. He didn't shift, didn't cover himself, didn't even blink faster. Just stood there with his hands clasped in front of him, head tilted slightly as if calculating arrival times.
Corey's eyes went wide the second he stepped out. He stopped dead in the doorway, baggy gray jeans sagging low on his hips as he raked his gaze up and down Beckett's naked body, slow and shameless, lips parting in obvious appreciation.
"Fuck me," he muttered under his breath, voice thick with sudden heat, that long dyed-white hair falling into his eyes as he leaned forward like he couldn't help it. The way Beckett just stood there, so clinical and exposed, seemed to flip a switch in Corey. His cheeks flushed, hips shifting restlessly in those loose jeans, the outline of his own growing interest pressing against the fabric before he even realized it.
Kota walked out next, still a little stunned from the elevator chaos, and the moment his foot crossed the threshold Beckett dropped smoothly to his knees right there in the hallway. No warning, no hesitation. He leaned in close, nose brushing the front of Kota's jeans, and inhaled deeply, slow, deliberate sniffs that traveled from thigh to crotch and back again. The rest of the group froze mid-step. Mort's blunt bob haircut barely moved as he crossed his arms tighter. "Enough. Get a room. A blowjob right here in the hallway? Classy."
Beckett didn't even look up. His voice stayed perfectly flat, monotone as ever, like he was reading from a clipboard. "Negative. I am simply confirming compliance with the abstinence directive. Sniffing for residual semen scent. No release detected. Optimal. Proceed."
He rose back to his feet in one fluid motion, still completely naked, and turned toward the apartment door like nothing unusual had happened. With the same clinical efficiency he pushed it open, holding it wide so the group could shuffle inside. Toby went first, muttering another string of quiet apologies for taking up space, his long ginger hair swinging as he ducked past. Mort followed with a muttered "this is ridiculous," shiny black pants swishing. Gideon glided through without a word, his Victorian frills and corset looking even more out of place under the apartment's modern lights. Corey lingered in the hallway a second longer, still staring at Beckett's bare ass as the naked host turned to close the door behind them.
Kota stayed put right outside the threshold, stunned and rooted to the spot, his mind still replaying the casual public sniff like it was the most normal greeting in the world. Corey slid up beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed, that wild white hair tickling Kota's arm. His voice dropped low, thick with fresh curiosity and something hungrier. "So… you and the weird naked guy. Have you fucked yet?"
Kota shook his head quickly, still processing. "No. Not even close."
Corey's eyes lit up like someone had handed him the keys to a candy store. The flush on his cheeks deepened, spreading down his neck as he bit his lower lip, hips rolling forward just a fraction in those baggy gray jeans. "Crikey… that's even better."
His voice turned breathy, almost reverent, the words spilling out faster as the fantasy took hold. He leaned in closer, one hand resting lightly on Kota's forearm like he needed the contact to stay grounded.
"Fuck, I want him. I want to be the one who breaks that weird little femboy. Imagine it—me pinning him down on that big velvet couch inside, spreading those pale thighs while he just stares up at me with that blank robot face, not even moaning at first, just calculating how many thrusts until his prostate aligns with some chakra bullshit. I'd go slow at the start, teasing that tiny hole with my fingers, watching his monotone mask crack just a little when I finally push in. He'd stay so still, so clinical, whispering stats about friction coefficients or whatever, but I'd fuck him harder, deeper, until that voice finally breaks and he starts making real sounds—tiny gasps, shaky little whimpers he can't control. I'd flip him over, grab those narrow hips, and pound him from behind while he tries to keep reciting ritual rules, his whole body shaking, ass rippling every time I bottom out. the thought of making him lose it making that emotionless freak actually beg, actually cum without permission, just because I'm ruining him so good—fuck, I can feel it already."
Corey's breathing had gone ragged, his free hand pressing down against the front of his jeans like he was barely holding himself together. His hips twitched once, twice, the fantasy so vivid he looked half a second from creaming right there in the hallway.
"I'd edge him for hours, make him count every thrust out loud in that flat voice until it cracks, then flood him so deep he leaks for days. Breaking the unbreakable. That's the hottest shit I've ever pictured."
Kota stared at him, caught between disbelief and reluctant amusement. "Wait… aren't you a bottom?"
Corey blinked, then flashed that bright, horny grin again, shrugging one shoulder like it was the dumbest question he'd ever heard.
"A man can do both, mate. Switch king right here. But with him? I'd top the hell out of that weird femboy. Ruin him proper." He paused, then puffed his chest out, voice turning cocky. "Besides, I'm the biggest one here anyway. Two-point-one inches, rock hard. Beat that."
Kota snorted before he could stop himself, the sound loud in the quiet hallway. "Three times that, easy."
Corey's face went bright red in an instant, the blush exploding across his cheeks as his confident grin faltered into pure embarrassment. He shifted on his feet, suddenly unable to meet Kota's eyes, one hand scratching nervously at the back of his neck while the other tugged at the waistband of his baggy gray jeans. "Shit… alright, alright. Get the hell inside before Corey gets horny AND mad."