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Jiffy

Chapter 6

Joel

BANG! CRASH! THUMP!

Joel - who was used to waking up at much later hours - cracked his eyes open. It was like peeling open old, creaky doors. His bloodshot eyes burned with the morning sunlight. One of the reasons he hated sleeping over at Cash's place was that the windows were supposed to be 'smart windows' so they would automatically dim and darken when there was too much light. Since the mansion on stilts was facing the east, that was the majority of the time.

It made him hate sunrises all the more.

Groaning softly, he rolled onto his side away from the large floor-to-ceiling window.

BANG!

He saw a blur of motion in front of him; a large, fluffy white cloud that was dashing about one of the guest bedrooms in a hurry.

“Uuuuhn…?" he groaned.

Shaw immediately turned to him, teeth gnashed together in embarrassment. “Sorry!" he whispered softly. “I didn't mean to wake you. I just realized what time it is."

“What time is it…?" he rumbled in response.

“It's seven."

Joel took a second to comprehend that statement. Then he let out a loud moan, pulled his pillow out from underneath him and slammed it onto his face.

“Fuck meeeeee!" he moaned into his pillow.

“I'd love to but I need to run to work. Wait… did we wash my clothes last night…?" After a few more seconds of silence, Shaw suddenly cursed. “Right… we did but left it in the dryer!"

The smell of wet fur and just a little bit of musk on the pillows reminded him of the events of the previous night.

Nothing overly sexual had been initiated.

Though they both grew hard in the shower, the cold waters quickly put the kibosh on their libidos. They held each other, content in a cemented friendship.

“How's your back?" he mumbled into the pillow.

“Better," Shaw replied, scrambling across the room towards the door. “Those jets felt weird at first but they were really good."

Shaw had been curious about the shower's jets and they had experimented with the setting a little. The most intense setting was too much for the bear so they set it to a more massage-like frequency which he absolutely loved.

Joel peeled the pillow away as he heard Shaw open the door and leave the bedroom. Faint wafts of the steak with with a Bearnaise sauce and a side of salad with a refreshing pomegranate dressing still lingered in the air. Cash had been particularly proud of that meal.

As he got up, he noticed the discarded towels that they hard worn for the majority of the night. Their clothes were soaked with soda so they had dinner with only those towels around their waists. It made for a somewhat hilarious and slightly erotic scene but, again, no one was really in the mood to do anything sexual.

Especially not after the topic of conversation drifted to the deliciousness of the meal Cash prepared for them. The classically trained lion teased them a little about how long they took in the shower but that was quickly pushed aside when Joel told the lion how they both liked to take cold showers. The lion's hackles raised and he let out a soft hiss while calling them both 'unnatural'.

Joel chuckled to himself at how such a simple thing drew him more to Shaw. He had never though that, being a polar bear, Shaw would prefer his showers cold. As he extracted himself from the sheets, he made a mental note that he would need to take showers with the bear more often.

His eyes fell to the crumple of sheets where Shaw's imprint was barely visible. Memories of how he had cuddled up to the bear, fully naked filled his mind. How neither of them had acted upon the situation was a beyond him.

He briefly wondered if that was the definition of a healthy relationship; to sleep with someone naked and not fuck them silly.

Heavy footsteps raced down the stairs and Joel peeled himself away from the warmth of the previous night and followed the noise. Shaw was back on the second floor, going to the laundry room where they had their clothes washed and free of soda.

“Damnit!"

Shaw emerged a moment layer, his glasses askew in the cutest of ways, holding out his button-up shirt. Even Joel had to let out a little grimace at the sight of the crumpled fabric.

“You think your coworkers are even going to really care what you wear?" he asked.

“Probably not but I'd rather not risk it," Shaw said. “It'll get me clothed at least until I get home and get changed." Then he glanced towards the stairs leading down to the first floor and then back to Joel. “Hey… uhm… do mind if…?"

Joel read his friend and fuck-buddy's mind and moved to the kitchen counter. Remnants from his failed experiment with Mountain Dew and vodka remained but beside the bags and bottles were the keys to his truck.

A small smile touched his lips as he recalled laughing over the steaks - marveling at Cash's talent for food - and even talked a little about Shaw's marketing ideas for JACKED. The topic turned a little serious when Joel confessed that he had managed to convince Shaw to stick around the bar and the guys for a little longer.

'We might just have a new regular at the bar,' were his exact words.

Cash could read between the lines and let out an exaggerated, girlish squeal as he officially welcomed Shaw to their little group. He made some joke about being promoted from 'customer' to 'regular' and he would need to sleep with each of the members of JACKED to go from 'regular' to 'patron'. Only after he did 'something special' would he officially become one of the JACKED boys and they would add his name to the acronym that was the bar's name.

That wasn't real. It was just Cash teasing Shaw.

Swiping his keys from the counter and spinning them on his finger, he gave Shaw his trademark wink and flicked an ear towards the stairs. “Let's get dressed. There's usually no morning traffic from this part of town to your place so we should make it in time for you to get dressed, get something to eat and then get to work with time to spare."

Shaw visibly sighed in relief. “You're a lifesaver!" The bear disappeared into the laundry room for a few seconds then returned with all this clothes and Joel's. He tossed Joel his garments while quickly scrambling into his briefs, slacks and undershirt.

As he did so, Joel slipped on his own clothes which was a much easier task to do in comparison. Less buttons. His eyes wandered over to the lounge room. Ghosts of the previous evening danced across the upholstery. He, Shaw and Cash watched a few shows on the enormous television that Cash once again complained was a poor investment on his part. Around midnight, Cash yawned, got up and told them that he needed a 'catnap'. Joel and Shaw cuddled a little more on the couch, kissed a bit, fondled one another's members and then moved to one of the guest bedrooms.

Again, nothing happened even if both of them did sport hard-ons.

I guess we were both just a little emotionally exhausted.

Armed with his keys and grabbing his phone off the counter, he glanced over to Shaw who was hastily buttoning up his shirt.

“Leave it off," he instructed.

The bear regarded him like he had sprouted a third horn. “What?"

“Leave it off," Joel repeated. “Let your arms breathe. Show us that sexy mass."

Shaw's eyes dipped down at his own belly. There was that cute full-body blush again.

“Besides," continued the bull. “No one is going to see you apart from maybe a few neighbors as we run up the stairs to your apartment." He beckoned Shaw to follow him. “Don't bother wasting time looking good for people you don't care about. We love you no matter how you look. Come on."

For a second, he realized he had just dropped the 'L-Word' even if it was in a totally casual setting. His eyes searched Shaw's body language and expression as the bear considered the buttons on his shirt, the bear's paws hovering at about his midsection.

“You're right," Shaw rumbled gruffly. “We don't have the time." Lifting his gaze with fiery determination in his eyes, he said, “Let's go."

Phew!

Smiling to himself inwardly, Joel led the way back down to the first floor and out the door. They had to take another flight of stairs back down to the ground floor. Shaw was sweating by the time they reached his truck.

“Too… many… stairs…" panted the polar bear as he jumped into the passenger seat of the truck.

Joel gave the bear a little wink as he started his truck. “Those sessions with Amos for some personal training aren't sounding so bad now, are they?"

That bought him a snort from the bear just as he backed out of the beach house's carport and onto the sand-covered road. With Shaw's address already programmed into his phone's GPS, he was able to calculate that it would take him about forty-five minutes to get to middle of the city. It was about seven-thirty now. They'd be at Shaw's place by about eight-fifteen. Eight-thirty at the worst.

They would be cutting it really close to get him through those doors by nine.

“Do you think it'd be too much of a post-breakup overcompensation to start hitting the gym?" Shaw asked, as he leaned away from Joel and resting his head against the window. “I always sucked at sports. The football coach back at my high school actually wanted me to join as a linebacker because I was a pretty chunky kid."

He could see that. Linebackers didn't necessarily need muscle, just mass. With Shaw being below six feet tall, he had a lower center of gravity. With as much weight as he had now, he would make for a decent defensive lineman. Certainly not enough to go on the professional level but he had to wonder how the snow white ursine's life and career would have turned out had he taken a bigger interest in athletics.

“Why didn't you give it a try?" he asked.

“Probably the same reason every Asian kid didn't do any sports." Shaw waggled a finger through the air. “You don't have time for games!" mimicked the bear in a high-pitched tone. “You need to focus on your academics. You're an Asian not a Bee-sian!"

Joel tore his gaze away from the road - thankfully mostly empty at this time of day - to give the bear an incredulous look. “Did your parents seriously say that?"

“Oh yeah," groaned the bear. “Mom wanted me to be a doctor. Dad said I had to be a lawyer. It took me convincing them with graphs, trends and empirical evidence that I would make more money as an advertising agent and doing market research than either of those."

Joel stopped himself from asking just how much Shaw made if he could outdo a lawyer or doctor's salary. Instead he turned his gaze back to the road. Shaw, however, seemingly read his mind.

“Doctors and lawyers make a lot of money," began the bear. “Don't get me wrong but that's a common misconception. Famous and high-profile doctors and lawyers make all the money. You would have to be really good at your job or work at a really good law firm to the big bucks. And even then it's a high risk, high reward profession. One slip of the scalpel or one mis diagnosis…" Shaw made a slicing motion through the air. “…and you could be sued for malpractice." Turning his lifted paw flat across the horizon, he continued. “With the law being what it is, you could get sued for doing your job. You could win a case but still be sued and counter-sued over and over again."

“And advertising and marketing is better?"

“A little. No job is without it's risks but at the very least what I do has a much lower chance of getting someone to lose their livelihood or killing someone."

Ooof… his comfort zone must be pretty damn cozy.

“It was still pretty ballsy of you to leave your parents and live by yourself," Joel commented. “Lots of people your age still live with their parents. Especially here in California."

“Yeah," Shaw chortled, leaning his cheek against the truck's window. “Cash gave me the rundown on why buying a house here is a bad idea. You don't have to worry about that." He briefly gave Joel a sidelong smirk. “So maybe going to the gym might be a better investment than property."

“Your heart and kidney will thank you twenty years down the line."

“Not my liver?"

“You're talking to a bartender here," Joel snickered. “Your liver is not safe."

“Unless my drink is non-alcoholic."

That's a good point… Though I did make him a virgin Bloody Mary.

Maybe I should pivot away from making non-alcoholic version of boozy drinks and just start with good, flavorful mocktails.

He could feel Shaw's half-suspicious, half-exasperated stare at him.

“You're thinking about what you'll serve me next, aren't you?" accused the bear.

“Hey, it's my job!" Joel laughed heartily. “Can you blame me?"

Rolling his eyes, Shaw turned away from him and watched the beach peel away and give way to suburbs. “Just don't spill the concoction on me. You don't need that as an excuse to get me undressed."

Grinning to himself, Joel ended the conversation with, “Noted."

Thirty-five minutes later, he parked the car in front of Shaw's apartment and was told to keep the engine running as Shaw hurriedly rushed back to his place. Since they had showered the previous evening and nothing sexual had occurred, he was confident he could get away with a quick change of clothes and cologne. Joel obliged and stayed in his truck as he watched the bear rush up the brick building.

He marveled at the sight for a few moments, lingering at the ghost of the departing cola before turning to his phone. There was a message from Cash on the JACKED group chat - the Council.

'Yo! Where did the big bull go charging off too so early and making so much noise!?'

Snickering and completely forgetting that they had probably startled Cash awake with all the noise they had made, Joel tapped out a quick response.

'It's a work day for the sad corporate grunts that need to be in the office at nine. Had to drive Shaw back to his place. Going to drop him off at work.'

Killian chimed in. 'Been there! Avoid the obvious main road. His office has a parking lot behind the building that you can get to from the back streets. Way faster and less lights.'

'Tks, Killer. Good advice."

'Are we going to take turns driving that cute marshmallow cola to work now?' teased Erick. 'You know, me or Dorian could probably do it. We work the day shift. Is his place far from the bar?'

Shaw's apartment was about a twenty minute drive from the bar but his office was just ten minutes. Not that far at all. Joel gave the address and the guys were already thinking about a carpool schedule between Dorian and Erick. It warmed his heart that they were all very accepting of the bear.

Like he's one of us already.

'Think we'll get to see him tonight?' Dorian asked. 'Almost everyone here has had some time with him and I haven't! It's not fair!'

'How about you fix that light above the bar first and we'll talk about sharing him,' countered Joel. 'And I'll ask if wants to come tonight. Might already be sick of us.'

As he hit 'send', Shaw barged down the steps of his apartment and scrambled back into the passenger seat. Now dressed fully, he struck a rather handsome figure. Though he was wearing a blazer, he forewent the tie and kept the top buttons of his shirt undone.

“You clean up nice," Joel commented, peeling away from the driveway.

“Thanks," panted the polar bear, pulling down the sun visor on his side and quickly examining his features in the embedded mirror. “I didn't get a chance to shave. Is it noticeable?"

From the corner of his eye, Joel appraised the bear. Since Shaw had black hair, any facial hair was very evident against his alabaster fur. The few bits of stubble on his cheeks was a little visible but it provided more of a contrast against his fur and made him look a little more mature.

“Not really," he said, returning his gaze to the road. “I think it makes you look more distinguished."

“You're only saying that because you like me."

“Do I though?" Joel teased, winking at him. “And really, it makes you look less baby-faced."

Shaw gave him a sour look. “Baby-faced?"

Laughing loudly, Joel said, “I mean, yeah. I'm not saying you look fat but when you kept your hair all short and spiky like that and kept yourself clean shaved, you look like you're eighteen and going to your first ever job interview." He reached over, grabbed the top of Shaw's head and gave it a little ruffle, feeling the excess amount of hair product the bear had added to keep the black mass so straight and pointed that it would make a ruler look crooked.

“H - Hey!" stammered Shaw, swatting his hands away.

“There," Joel said, wiping his hands against his shorts. “Now you look professional."

Shaw regarded his reflection in the mirror of the sun visor. “Huh…" The bear tilted his head from one side to the other. “I guess… it's not bad…"

“Trust the forty-something bull. You're not impressing anyone by looking ten years younger. Oh, and word of advice, you might want to use less hair product or use one that has less sheen. Maybe a clay or a paste? That pomade you're using makes your hair look like it's made of obsidian. Way unnatural."

“And you're the expert on hair products now?"

Joel gave his friend a side-long smirk. “Kid, I'm almost twice your age. I've seen more hairstyle fads and products in the twenty years between our ages than you have fingers and toes." He tilted his head to the side, eyes drifting upwards. “There was that awful stage when everyone was wearing anime-style headbands while styling their hair like they were electrocuted." Flipping his head to the other side, he continued. “Then there was the time when people were purposefully using this weird 'ash-based dye-slash-wax' that would give people a salt-and-pepper look. They were purposefully aging themselves up because people thought older guys were sexy." Then he lifted a finger in Shaw's direction. “Oh, and then there's that time when that singer did that three-quarter comb-over thing… You know what I'm talking about?"

Shaw threw his paws into the air. “Oh God… Corey Blaine. They had about a quarter of their heads shaved down to just their fur and then they would purposefully grow out the rest and style it into sweep over their face in this weird, moody look." The bear shuddered. “They would go around calling themselves 'inBlaine'. Like they were insane but using his name. They were manic for him." Shaw stuck out his tongue, crossing his arms miserably. “And one of his most popular songs was him literally just singing 'You' over and over again. God, he and his fans were insufferable."

Grinning to himself, Shaw reached over and pinched the bear's cheeks, making Shaw swat him away. “Awww… You're cute when you act like a moody teenager that's not in the 'in crowd' and rebelling against society."

Shaw gave him a pointed stair and a sour smile. “Yeah? Well you're pretty hot when you flaunt your experience at me, daddy."

Playing into the name-calling, Joel exaggerated a full-body shudder. “Oh son. Not while I'm driving!"

“Gross!" Shaw cried, pulling away and holding up his paws while laughing.

A few minutes later - at eight-forty-nine - Joel parked in front of the garage leading to Shaw's office. The bear gathered his belongings, turned to Joel and leaned in.

He stopped.

Joel stared…

… then Shaw pushed their lips together.

“Thanks for the ride," said the bear with a smile. “See you tonight at the bar?"

Smiling to himself, his lips tingling at the touch, Joel said, “Yeah. Looking forward to it."

?

Shaw

Fridays were usually the most hectic time of the week for the office. Marketing strategies and advertisements don't sleep over the weekend. If any of the projects they were working on were being deployed that Friday, they had to be absolutely confident in their success because no one would be available over the weekend to make any corrections. That was why, most of the time, no one pushed to reveal any new products on the Friday. All that time and effort was spent making sure that everything that was deployed would still be there come Monday.

Clients had to be happy. Ads had to still be running. Models needed to be ready to run.

Shaw was running around most of the day, making calls to his clients and wracking his brain for solutions to questions that had stacked up while he was gone. The week had just flown by and he had to attribute that to his new friends.

Time really does fly by when you're having fun.

At two o'clock that afternoon, he was fairly confident that the weekend wouldn't give him troubles and Monday morning would be fairly mellow. Ollie swept by, leaning against his cubicle door with his favorite mug in hand filled with coffee.

“Going to head to JACKED tonight?" asked the monkey.

“Yeah," answered Shaw, without looking up from his desktop monitor that was hooked up to his laptop. “You?"

Ollie smacked his lips loudly. “Would love to go and see you out and proud but we're holding an intervention for my little brother."

That got him to look up. “Is he okay?"

The monkey's features were a little grim. “Not if you consider him getting into this horrible fad of growing his hair really long and dying it red 'okay'."

Dorry suddenly sprang up from the cubicle next to Shaw. “Oh no," she sighed dramatically. “He hasn't been sucked into that group, has he?"

Ollie rolled his eyes. “He has. He's already started talking about leaving home and joining a 'commune'."

Shaw's eyes darted between them, utterly lost to the conversation. Sensing his ignorance, Ollie and Dorry quickly explained that there was a new 'ideology' going around called the 'Ginger Genome'. Starting as a loose collection of people decrying how redheads were in a decline all over the world, the Ginger Genome Project kicked off in an attempt to raise awareness of those with red hair beyond their fur color and as a means to preserve that heritage. Somehow, somewhere down the line, it devolved into a semi-sex cult. People would refuse to cut their hair, dye it red and then have sex with those with red hair in an attempt to preserve the 'Ginger Genome'. They were fully aware that dying their hair red would not ensure their children would have red hair but apparently even carrying the 'Ginger Genome' as a recessive gene was part of some 'grand plan'.

“You've got to be kidding me," Shaw blurted. “That can't be real."

He turned to back to his screen, typed in 'Ginger Genome' in his browser and seconds later…

“Oh wow… It's real."

Ollie lifted his mug into the air like he was saluting some entity that was making a mockery of them. “Only in California, baby!"

“My niece joined them a while back," Dorry sighed, shaking her head sadly. “She hasn't left home but, my god, she is disgusting to be around. Her hair goes down to her ass and she refuses to wash it. Just keeps applying red dye and says that is enough." She made a face and shook her head. “Eurgh… Get your little brother out of there, Ollie. If not for him, then for you and your noses."

“That's the intention!" answered the monkey. Turning back to Shaw, Ollie asked, “So did you land that account with that lion that came in here yesterday?"

…

CRAP!

It only occurred to Shaw at that moment that Cash had used the pretense of a possible contract with the company to kidnap him. While they had discussed some marketing strategies, nothing had ever been drawn up nor had anything agreed upon. That was definitely not something he could leave until the following Monday.

“I was just about to follow up with him," he lied.

“Good luck," sighed Ollie, turning away to leave. “Don't think anyone would want to get any meetings at this point in the day."

Maybe not anyone normally but since I happen to have slept at this guy's place last night…

Cash hadn't left any contact details with the office but, thankfully, Shaw had other ways of getting it. After a series of texts to Joel, he got the lion's number and immediately began messaging him.

'Hey Cash. This is Shaw Feng. Remember how you came to my office to talk me out of buying a house under the pretense of offering a contract for JACKED_? Yeah, well, my boss and coworkers are hammering me for an update._'

He set down his phone and went back to work. Not even a minute later, he got a reply.

'Hey Shaw. Funny that I never got your number. As for your proposal, I'll admit that it wasn't actually a serious proposal until you started talking and making professional suggestions.'

That was to be expected. Cash did seem a little bit on the impulsive side. Considering the lion had bought a multi-million dollar house despite all the warnings from his closest friends and lovers, there was a trend of the lion going rogue. Fitting that he was the head chef. There was room for creativity and experimentation in the kitchen.

'Alright. I'll tell everyone here that it's a bust.'

Cash replied almost immediately. 'Now don't go jumping the gun. Your ideas about the menu were great. And to be honest, I've wanted to open the place up for lunch for a while but there just wasn't a market for it… until you mentioned catering.'

Shaw pulled his head back in surprise.

'Seriously? I'll admit I was put on the spot there and I just came up with all of that without really planning it. I'm no accountant but do you have the budget for it?'

'The bar is doing great. We have a lot of extra income and plenty in savings. It's how we can keep getting fresh food and throw these monthly parties like Fratboy Fridays.'

That was true. Not every bar can just throw such events every month. Maybe a happy hour but not full-blown raves like what Shaw had attended the previous week.

'Tell you what. Let me clean up, wake up a little more and I'll talk to the other guys about it. If the Council agrees, we'll talk to your people and see about hiring you guys for a marketing campaign.'

Shaw's heart lept to his chest. A reason to hang around the guys more. Not that he needed one given how close he was to them already. For a brief moment, he wondered about the ethical considerations about sleeping with his clients but then he remembered how quite a few of his co-workers actually did a lot of schmoozing. Some of the senior partners had offices stacked with various forms of liquor and cigars just for high-powered meetings. Meeting Room 9 was the most luxurious room in the entire office and was dedicated to catering for the rich and famous. Golden Cliffs did have a few celebrities, after all.

I wonder how my boss would have reacted if he knew Cash actually belonged to the Blake Family…

'Alright,' he texted back. 'Let me know. Worst case, I'll see you tonight at the bar.'

'TTYL cutie cola!"

He wasn't sure how he felt about that nickname but decided to set it aside and return to work. A few more pieces of tedious paperwork and one meeting later, four o'clock rolled around. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he was excited to leave work and go somewhere that wasn't back home to play games with his online friends. In fact, he was reeling from the fact that he was actually excited to go to a bar of all places.

Three years ago when he had first met Liam, such a thing would have seemed impossible to him.

Beep! Beep!

His phone chimed and he glanced down. It was from Cash. It was just a simple question.

'Email?'

Shaw frowned at the question but handed the lion his work email. Not even a few minutes later, he got an email from Cash from the official JACKED domain.

His jaw instantly dropped in shock.

'Are you serious!?' he texted back to Cash. 'The guys are onboard with the whole thing?'

'Killian and Dorian were on the fence for a bit but when I mentioned the idea about using the time for catering to businesses, they immediately bought in.'

Apparently, Killian was already thinking up of ways to advertise their services, even going so far as to promote their food as a 'DEI' initiative to a very mechanical and drab locale where the bar was located. Again, they were the only gay-oriented bar in the middle of the city. Companies and businesses could earn great publicity from supporting them.

'They liked the idea of rebranding us as a gastro-pub too. Joel was all for it.'

Shaw snickered a little, knowing full well that Joel would probably have agreed to anything he suggested.

'I'll get this to my manager right now. Probably won't get anything officially agreed until Monday. Think you can drop by?'

'I'll think about it. I like my cat naps.' Then Cash sent him an image of a slumbering cat. 'Just send me the date and time and I'll be there.'

With that, Shaw immediately sent a hugging sticker to Cash before forwarding the official proposal from Cash to his manager. The excitement was bubbling up to the surface and he couldn't wait to see his boss' reaction. He got up from his cubicle and headed over to his manager's office, knocking on the door so as not to be rude.

“Shaw?" asked the gray-haired equine. “Need to head off early?" The man looked like he was getting to leave himself. The man's desktop was still on so he hadn't shutdown for the night.

“Actually," he said, “I just heard back from that client that came here yesterday." His manager's eyebrows rose. “I just sent you his official letter expressing interest in hiring us to do the marketing for him."

The older man's features immediately lit up and his fingers dashed towards his mouse and keyboard. Cash's response was succinct and very official-looking. The request was for a three-month marketing campaign to help rebrand JACKED as a gastro-pub and expand their audience to Golden Cliff's business district as they extended their hours from just a bar to offering lunch options as well. Cash had been very clear that if the campaign went well, they would revisit the campaign two weeks from expiry to continue for another three months.

That was a lot of business.

“This is fantastic!" exclaimed the equine, clapping his hands happily. “I knew you were the right person for the job!"

For a second, Shaw wondered if he should take offense to that but then he recalled Killian's advice about one's identity. With a smile, he just nodded and said, “Thanks. I just wanted to make sure I pulled my weight after being gone for so long."

“You don't need to explain your absences," said his manager calmly. “You also don't need to feel sorry for them. You earned that time. They're yours to take whenever you want for whatever reason. You don't need to prove yourself every time you take some time off." His manager returned to the screen, beaming. “But I still appreciate all your work here. To get a client interested like this with one meeting…" The equine nodded at the response. “… you must have really put on the charm."

Shaw grinned sheepishly. “Well, I've been to the bar a couple of times so I got a lay of the land. Not to mention I've worked here for years now and from what I know about their location, they would benefit from a few of the suggestions I offered."

“You're the man!" laughed his manager, slapping his desk. “I'll send this over to the lawyers. We'll get a contract drawn up. They'll hate me for the Friday night contract but we can probably get something drafted and ready for review Monday."

Pride blossoming in his chest, Shaw said, “Sounds great! I'll let the client know a rough time line."

His manager grimaced a little. “Make it Tuesday. Late Friday, people might ignore emails, it'll get buried in weekend stuff and then they'll only get to Monday afternoon if we remind them. You know how lawyers are."

Their legal team was relatively small so they tended to be overwhelmed with copyright issues. There was a standard contract with their rates they could use but it generally needed to be edited to the specifications of the client. He felt a little sorry for them but he couldn't help his excitement about officially contributing to JACKED.

Makes me feel like I'm part of the founding group.

He bid his boss a good evening and returned to his desk. Along the way, he excited tapped out a message to Cash, informing him that the firm was happy to have them on as a client and that they will get an official contract out to them by Tuesday.

'Awesome!' replied Cash. 'Looks like we'll have a good reason to celebrate tonight! You're still coming, right?'

'How could I not?' answered Shaw, unable to keep himself from grinning.

Cash didn't reply immediately so he guessed that the lion was likely telling the rest of the so-called 'Council'. That gave Shaw time to return to his desk, finish up the rest of his day's work and get ready to leave. He briefly considered what he should wear that evening. A quick visit to the JACKED bar's website showed that there were no major events this evening so there was no theme to go with.

Maybe I need to go shopping for a new wardrobe.

Especially if I'm going to start working out with Amos. I don't think I have any workout clothes to speak of…

At five-fifteen, he packed up his laptop, shoved it into his satchel bag and bid Dorry a good evening - Ollie had left for the night. He had just hit the call button on the elevator when his phone vibrated.

He checked it, fully expecting Cash to give him some news.

It was not Cash.

'I know it's only been a few days,' Liam began, 'but I feel like there is still more to be said. Can we meet? Tonight?'

Shaw's throat closed up and he began shaking. A soft ding from the elevator brought him quickly out of his stupor. He rushed into the lift, hit the button for the lobby and wished every second in the metal box that blocked out all other electrical signals would last an eternity.

Terrifying scenes played out in his mind particularly ones where the elevator doors would swing open and there would be Liam waiting for him in the lobby. Those thoughts almost made him want to jam his finger against the buttons so that he would stop at every floor just to delay his descent. His heart was racing, his mind was working at a million thoughts a second and the enclosed space of the lift was starting to spin.

'Don't freak out.'

Joel's voice echoed in his ears and he spun to his left. A ghostly version of the stunning bull was beaming at him.

'Yeah, little buddy! We got your back!'

A spectral Amos slapped his back, keeping his huge, clawed hand there while the dragon flexed an arm.

'He can't do any worse to you than he already has,' assured Cash, the lion standing off to the side with his arms folded.

'Don't give that, puta_, any room to gain any ground now that you_'ve stood yours!' Killian shouted, the otter standing in front of him.

The elevator doors swung open with a soft ding and there Erick standing next to Dorian in the lobby, holding out their hands to him.

'We're here for you,' the two intoned.

Heart slowing down to a calm rhythm, Shaw stepped out of the lift and regarded his phone now that it had once again connected to the outside world. Liam hadn't pressed him for more details in the thirty-seconds he had gone down to the lobby.

He tapped out a response.

'Can't tonight. I'm going to see the guys at the bar.'

After he hit send, he paused a moment and frowned. Joel hadn't agreed about extending the olive branch to Liam and given that Killian had correctly pointed out the skunk had been trying to gaslight him, he had no intention of seeing his ex so soon. Then again, if he was in a public place surrounded by supportive guys…

'I can meet you there if you want,' he added.

'This needs to be a private conversation,' insisted Liam.

'Whatever it is, you can say to me in front of the other guys.'

'What? Is that otter your boyfriend now?'

For a second, Shaw considered those words and could feel the seething jealousy that came from the skunk.

'Meet me at JACKED and find out. I've made plans. I'm not going to change them just because you spontaneously wanted to talk.'

Shaw was able to leave his office building and walk to the nearby bus stop before Liam finally responded.

'Alright. I'll see you there. What time?'

He honestly didn't think that Liam would take him up on that offer and now he was getting a little nervous. The threat was made though and now they were playing a game of chicken. This time, however, Shaw was not backing down. Liam was going to meet him on his terms for once. They were going to go out and meet his friends.

See how he likes it.

'Seven,' he answered.

Joel

The air was simply electric and everyone could feel it even if most of the patrons of JACKED couldn't understand why their friendly bovine bartender was so active this evening. Killian was blasting high-energy beats and Cash was pumping out his Asian-style Jalapeno poppers which were proving to be a smash hit. Erick and Dorian were somewhere on the floor, greeting guests and having fun while Amos, as always, was guarding the door.

Joel lived off this energy. It flowed through him, electricity through his veins. Even though he had already been working three hours, constantly on his feet, talking to patrons, mixing cocktails and serving drinks, he was still able to keep up the pace without pausing. He was charming, social and returned the excitement two-fold. This was reflected in the crowds that were ally vying for his time.

This evening, however, there was only one person that he was eager to see and interact with. The idea of Shaw becoming a permanent fixture in the bar excited him in ways that he couldn't quite describe. He wouldn't go so far as to suggest that the bar had always been missing someone like the polar bear. More like, for the first time, he realized that there was someone in his life that was anchoring him down.

Commitment was still far from his vocabulary. The best way he could think of was that he had been floating and adrift for the longest time and then Shaw came along. For some reason, the bear just had this gravity about him that pulled Joel back down to earth. Centered him.

He couldn't understand what it was or why someone like Shaw had that effect on him. As his eyes scanned the crowd, he saw multiple other bears - some fit, some more on the chubby side - and even some polar bears. Though his heart skipped a beat every time he saw one that closely resembled his cola, he felt a pang of disappointment when he realized it wasn't Shaw.

Weird that this is genuinely the first time I'm ever feeling like this.

Joel checked the time. It was about nine in the evening. A glance on his phone and he noticed a message from Shaw. The bear was about fifteen minutes away. Poor guy had to go back home to change and shower and then take public transport to the bar. Though he only lived a short distance away, traffic was a nightmare.

That boy needs to get a car.

“Got a hot date tonight?"

He glanced up and noticed a familiar face; a black-furred lupine who had looked up from his tablet with a stylus in one paw.

“Sam!" Joel exclaimed, spreading his arms wide and bounding over to the struggling artist. “How the hell have you been? It's been ages since I've seen you!"

“It's just been a week," answered the wolf, his sapphire-blue eyes glimmering. “But looks like you've had a hell of a week. You're on fire tonight!"

Grinning, Joel snatched a beer bottle from under the bar, flipped it in the air and, in one, smooth motion, snapped off the bottle cap. The frothy brew oozed over his paw and into the grate in front of him before he handed it to one of the regulars of the bar.

“What can I say?" Joel responded, beaming brightly. “I'm feeling really good." When he saw Sam reach for his wallet, he raised a hand. “On the house, buddy. I know how you 'struggling artist' types are."

“Actually…" Sam beamed brightly, pulling out a crisp ten dollar note. “… I actually came across a fair bit of money."

“Not really stable income," Joel commented, pushing the note back towards the lupine wearing a crimson-red beret. “Did you get a fat commission or something?"

Sam's dark blue eyes drifted across the bar to where another wolf sat; the dour and surly Damon Rich. The moment their eyes locked, Damon grabbed the glass of scotch that Joel had served him earlier, downed it, grimaced and turned away. He wasn't leaving just yet. That was the first drink Joel had served him.

“Well damn," laughed Joel. “Just how did you swindle the investment banker out of money?"

“Relativity."

Leaning against the bar with one arm, he eyed the artist expecting a little more information.

Sam held up two fingers, one in each paw. “It's the phenomenon known as gravitational time dilation. Damon bet me that if you have two clocks of differing masses, the clock that is heavier will run slower than the clock that is lighter."

Lifting an eyebrow, Joel said, “Now I don't know a lot about science but I did go college. So I know, at the very least, that gravity does affect time." He waved a hand absently through the air. “I remember Dorian took a physics class when he was getting his triple-major. Never shut up about it. But it went over my head."

“You're right," Sam answered happily, his tail wagging behind him. “Ordinarily, that is how the clocks would run. People actually took clocks to space and measured them against clocks on Earth. The clocks in space, because they were farther from the Earth's gravitational field, ran faster."

A little confused, Joel tilted his head to the side. “So… that means Damon won, right? How did you win?"

Sam snickered, flashing a grin in Damon's direction and lifting his beer bottle as if to thank the banker for his drink. Though Damon had his back to them, just the twitch of the brown-haired wolf's ears told Joel the loser of this highly cerebral bet knew he was being taunted.

“What he forgot to take into account about the clocks is how they affect one another and what would happen when the burden on one clock eased."

Joel's eyes drifted back to the wolf, brow furrowed. “Was… that part of the bet?"

“Sure was," snickered Sam. “I oversimplified the problem but he basically bet me that Clock A would reach midnight before Clock B. Clock A was initially very light, unburdened and kind of hollow. Clock B was filled with a lot of fluff and clearly heavier. But when you sat the two of them together…" Sam set down his beer bottle on the bar and then placed his stylus upright next to it. “… the two start affecting how the other moves. External factors had to be accounted for as well. Suddenly, the weight on Clock B started being lifted while a different kind of burden was being placed on Clock A because of the way Clock B was progressing. Clock B started to slow while Clock A started running faster."

“So Clock B got to midnight faster?" asked Joel.

“Nope!" Sam exclaimed brightly. “Clock A still got there faster. But just by a little."

Now he was genuinely confused. “Alright… but then how did you win?"

The wolf's grin was downright diabolic. “Because I didn't bet on one clock winning over the other." Seeing his confusion, Sam said, “I bet him that I would take the fun out of him winning."

A smirk slowly crawled onto Joel's features as it dawned on him how Sam had won. “You sly-son-of-a-bitch."

Sam shrugged helplessly and took another swing from his beer. “What can I say? The guy is obsessed with winning. It's his weakness. He always has to be the best." His features grew a little somber as he leaned against the bar, holding the beer bottle close to his muzzle. “Little sad, actually. So achievement-driven. So obsessed with getting the gold that you forget to celebrate how you got there. It becomes instinct to just jump from one victory to the other that you don't give yourself a second to appreciate what you've achieved and how much you've grown."

His eyes turned sadly towards the wolf in the suit not too far away. “I feel sorry for him. I don't know how I'd live being desensitized to success." Sam shrugged again and lifted his beer towards his lips. “Then again, here I am grateful that he threw me two thousand dollars like it was nothing and happy that you're such an awesome bartender not to charge me for a bottle. So who's really the one that won?"

With that, Sam tilted his head back and downed half his bottle. Joel had another one for him - again free of charge ready before he set the bottle down.

“Just pace yourself, okay, buddy?" said the bovine encouragingly.

Sam gave him a mild salute, dismissing him from the conversation. Joel made a few stops along the bar, delivering drinks before he made his way over to Damon. He grabbed the glass that now sat empty and poured some more scotch into it.

“So," he began, “I hear you lost a bet to Sam."

“Is that what he told you?" chuckled Damon miserably. “He likes to think he's clever with his 'creative thinking' and lateral solutions to problems. I'll admit, he caught me off-guard but I don't think it's a total loss."

“You're out two grand," commented Joel. “That's not walking-around money." He quirked an eyebrow. “Unless you did it to throw the guy a bone."

Damon glanced over his shoulder at the bull, a little smirk on his lips. “You think it'll rob him of his excitement if I told him I lost on purpose just so that he could finally accept some charity and make rent this month?"

The brown-haired wolf plucked the glass offered to him and too a sip from it.

“I don't think he'd really care if it was charity or not," Joel said. “Sam isn't exactly a pinnacle or pride. He's a fairly humble guy."

“Fair," rumbled Damon. “Infuriatingly so. Still, I may have lost two thousand dollars but in the grand scheme of things, I won."

Joel crossed his arms, genuinely curious how anyone could think losing two thousand dollars could be considered 'winning'.

“How do you figure?" he asked.

“Sam told you about the experiment and the bet, right?" Joel nodded in confirmation. “One clock is heavier than the other and I expected the lighter clock to reach a certain limit sooner." Damon, still clutching the glass in one paw, lifted a finger from that same paw. “But what that artsy-fartsy 'creative' missed is the bigger picture. He's so focused on the clocks and making sure I didn't draw any enjoyment from winning that he's not seeing the implications of the gravitational time dilation."

Joel braced himself for some technical jargon.

“The lighter clock got more time," Damon said pensively.

The bull digested those words for a second. The heavy thumping of the music in his ears dulled as he marinated in those words. As he began drawing connections and imagining those two clocks… he slowly came to realize that what Damon was saying indeed was true.

If though both clocks ultimately had the same numbers, the same hands and started at the same point, one of them - the lighter one - was racing towards midnight faster. However, because of the 'external factors' that Sam described, it slowed down.

It got more time.

And he began to think that the clocks weren't actually clocks but… a metaphor for something.

“Those clocks aren't just pieces of plastic and cogs telling time, are they?" he asked.

Damon didn't respond but the slight twist of his lips at the end told Joel that he was right.

“Is… Is Sam the lighter clock?" Joel asked, leaning forward. “The one unburdened and racing towards midnight? Is… is he dying? Does midnight mean death?"

Damon closed his eyes briefly, lifted his eyebrows and shrugged. “I don't know. Could be. Could also be that I'm just trying to justify losing two grand on a fresh fucking college graduate that thinks he's the smartest kid in the block." He set down his glass, barely touched, and got up. The wolf fished out his wallet, slapping a fifty onto the bar. “Don't let it ruin your night, Joel. And if you're going to dwell on it, think about this…"

Again, the surly wolf lifted his finger. “The heavier clock lost it's baggage and started racing to the end after the lighter one. If that isn't the most romantic shit I've ever heard, then I don't know what is."

With those words, Damon turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Joel a little stunned and his mood abruptly plummeting. Leave it to the investment banker to drain his energy and kill his groove.

Still, he couldn't not help but think about Sam and Damon. Were the two attracted to one another? It seemed there was something there. Was Sam dying and had accepted his fate to the point that Damon, who was burdened with this knowledge and the money to do something to save the other wolf's life, was doing what he could to slow down the inevitable? Even if it meant that Damon himself was racing to his end?

Shit man, Joel sighed mentally. That is a real boner-killer.

Thankfully, a shout from the crowd immediately lifted his spirits.

“Joel!"

The sound of that bright tenor immediately lifted his spirits. Shaw emerged from the crowd, squeezing through two, felines and making it to the bar.

The conversation with his regulars and the imagery of death clocks immediately faded into the background as he approached the polar bear.

“You made it!" exclaimed Joel, spreading his arms.

“Yeah," Shaw replied, smiling wanly. “Traffic was hell and the line was long. It's a Friday, I guess. Amos saw us about halfway down the line and let us in."

Wait… 'us'?

That was when he noticed the black and neon-blue tail waving over the crowd like a banner of betrayal. A skunk emerged from behind the two felines, holding his chin up and nose slightly wrinkled. The smile he wore was clearly forced.

Liam.

Shaw was wearing a rather daring black shirt with the TriForce planted on his belly. There were a large pair of headphones wrapped around his thick neck and his wide legs were covered by a pair of khaki shorts. He looked like the splitting image of a gamer and was clearly proud of the appearance to come out here in it.

That alone filled Joel with pride.

Liam, on the other hand, screamed 'trying too hard to be a slut'. A thin bright blue shirt that cut off at his midriff with frayed edges hung around his flat figure. Denim short-shorts that left nothing to the imagination wrapped around his admittedly well-rounded ass. A necklace made of glow sticks were wrapped around his neck and there were a few beads around his wrists. Either ironically or intentionally, he was wearing a pair of light-up-sneakers - the type where every step he took, the soles would flash with some lights through the supportive gel.

While far from the most exposed or even slutty outfit, in contrast to Shaw, the skunk seemed like he was ready to get his tail lifted and fucked. Though judging from the bulge in his shorts, maybe he would do the fucking.

I remember that he was the top in the relationship because he was afraid of being crushed by Shaw.

Pushing aside his biases, Joel held out a hand towards the ex. “You must be Liam! Welcome to JACKED! I'm Joel."

“The J in Joel, I'm guessing?" Liam responded, his smile tightening. “Must be nice being a successful business owner especially in this economy. Then again, I guess not everyone is as lucky as to have five business partners supporting their ambitions. Honestly never heard of six co-founders for any establishment."

Is… Is he negging me? Was that a back-handed compliment?

Should I feel insulted?

“Be nice," Shaw chastised.

“I am being nice," hissed Liam back. “I'm saying that opening this place is really admirable especially in a location that is clearly ill-suited for a gay bar."

Okay. I'm insulted.

“Liam," snapped Shaw, glaring at his ex.

The skunk held up his paws, backing away slightly. “Look, I'm sorry if what I'm saying sounds offensive to you but I really do mean it. I'm impressed."

Wait for it…

“I mean, who else could pull off the confusion fusion of bar-pub-club that is this place than six gay guys. You would never find any other establishment with such an identity crisis in all of California! Maybe even the world."

Joel's hands tightened into fists but he forced himself to calm. Reaching down behind the bar, he pulled out a beer, cracked it open and handed it to Liam.

“Your throat must be really dry after all those compliments," he said, his voice dripping with false sweetness. “Have this on the house." Turning his gaze to Shaw, he reached down and grabbed another bottle. “Here, try this one Shaw. It's a honey mead. You might like it."

The curious cola regarded the dark bottle curiously before taking a sip from it. He smacked his lips a few times and then shuddered. “It was good… up until the end when the alcohol really hit me."

Liam laughed heartily. “There you go again. Being too critical of anything that isn't water or Mountain Dew." He sighed and took a sip from his own bottle. His grimace was far too exaggerated to be genuine. “Though I can't say I blame you for this one. This is kind of awful."

Before Shaw could protest, Joel stepped in.

“Well, that's the best I could offer an ex-boyfriend for free. Now if you were still in a loving relationship with my man, Shaw, here, then I might've just cracked open some of the black label stuff. They're really good and strong, you know." He gave Liam a mocking smile and a wink. “But something tells me you're already used to being fucked up."

The skunk's fake smile faded and though he wasn't scowling at Joel, his lips were a stern, straight line across his muzzle. “Have I offended you? I'm sorry if anything I said caused you to act so unprofessionally."

Joel cracked a grin. “Hey, don't worry about it. Water under the bridge. All the guys working here at JACKED are committed to our relationship with our customers, old and new. How about you, Liam? Are you committed to relationships?"

Shaw was steadily growing red in embarrassment as he stood over the two - the physically imposing, fit and much older bull and the thin, outrageously bright and verbally sharp skunk. It was all he could do to stand off to the side, watching them glare at one another wearing rictuses of barely concealed contempt for one another.

Joel noticed the bear's discomfort.

“I love commitment especially to long-lasting, intimate relationships," answered Liam tersely. “I'm mature enough to understand that every relationship hits rough patches and mistakes can be made by both parties. Just like how I'm sure you'll do something about the awful tables and persistent smell of sweaty metal in the air, I am willing to make up for my mistakes if it'll make things better for us in the long run."

That was the most self-centered half-apology he had ever heard and it made his gut twist in all the wrong ways to swallow his pride and say, “Well, I'm glad to hear that. Enjoy the rest of the night, you two." He lifted his hands into the air, pointing absently at Killian. “Free round on the house!" he roared, brining a cheer from the crowd.

Liam had this smug 'I-won-that-round' look on his face as he turned away, grabbing Shaw's wrist and waving his tail over the bear's face to hide him from Joel. The bull hated to see them both go but he had just stacked a lot of work for the bar. Even with Valentino with him, he would be occupied.

Then, a paw fell on his shoulder. It was Erick.

“Get that asshole," growled the wolf. “And I don't mean fuck Shaw's ass. I mean punch that skunk's prostate and leave him with an impacted anus."

Joel shot his burly friend a puzzled look. “But the bar…"

“He insulted the bar." Erick's eyes were afire with a need for vengeance. “He's not getting away with that. Especially not with a prize like Shaw." The wolf jerked his head towards the retreating two. “Go. I'll take over."

“Are you sure you even know how to serve drinks?"

Erick gave him a lopsided smirk. “Grab a bottle, crack open the cap, serve. What's so hard about it?"

Without another word, he pushed Joel towards Shaw. No other prompting was needed. The bull rushed around the bar, that skunk's blue and black tail waving like a matador's muleta. Horns down and huffing a little. Patrons saw his charge and immediately gave way.

He was about to make a scene.

All that negativity, all the criticisms and all the vile words that Liam spouted just bounced around his head, dislodging foul memories of Bart Rockham's own insults hurled at his son. They mixed together, forming a terrifying chimera-like amalgamation that sneered, mocked and scowled at Joel supported by the rotting foundations of stubborn disappointment and unearned superiority.

Joel had enough.

He grabbed Liam's shoulder and spun him around, catching both Shaw and the skunk by surprise.

“Hey!" shouted Liam, slapping his arm away. “What the hell do you think you're doing?"

“Something incredibly unprofessional," Joel sneered.

Then…

… he punched Liam's face.

?

Shaw

Time slowed.

Shaw could see Joel's fist rising, the bull's muscles bunching and straining against the tight, gray shirt the bartender wore beneath his apron. He had enough time to think how amazingly attractive Joel was angry and even marvel at how the lights of the bar showed off the contours of his muscular frame. All that time and still he chose to do nothing as Joel's large fist slammed into Liam's nose with a sickening crack.

The skunk's muzzle momentarily looked like a black and white accordion as the fur wrinkled up and his nose appeared to flatten against Joel's knuckles. Liam's eyes were wide in shock and disbelief. A little bit of shame injected itself into Shaw as he marveled at how someone who thought himself perfect and untouchable was brought back down to reality.

The fear followed shortly afterwards and time resumed.

Liam slammed into the floor. Patrons immediately gave him a wide berth. Killian continued to play music but Shaw saw the glint in the otter's eyes even from where he stood. The DJ grabbed his phone and began texting, likely alerting the rest of the Council of an impending brawl. Amos' huge, hulking figure started bounding over, cutting a swathe through the crowd.

The dragon seized Joel's arms, pulling him back while placing himself between the two. The hirsute shark named Dorian appeared a second later, moving to help Liam. The skunk swatted away the fish's webbed hands, angrily getting to his feet while cupping his muzzle. Blood was seeping between his fingers.

“What the hell!?" barked Liam, spitting his blood and saliva in Joel's direction. “What was that for!?"

Joel shrugged off Amos' grip and puffed out his chest. “You come into my bar and insult everything about my place, even going so far as to call me unprofessional and you expected anything less than a punch to the snout?" The bull's eyes were burning with fury, an expression that Shaw had never seen in him before.

Odd as it was, he had never seen the bull so… genuine. The casual way he talked, the jokes he threw and the winks he threw always felt like he was flirting. This was the first time he saw true passion and dedication from the older male.

He wasn't scared.

On the contrary, he was inspired.

“Can't you take a little criticism?" spat Liam, pulling his paw away from his muzzle to show the damage. Though there was a gush of blood, it was little more than for show. Nothing was broken. No teeth missing. “Is that how you respond to people who give your shitty bar a three star review? By punching them!?"

Amos, holding up his hands between them, said, “Whoa now. Cool it." He threw Joel a piercing stare. “Both of you." Then, he roughly grabbed Joel by his collar and started dragging him towards the back door. “Outside! Both of you!"

Dorian seized Liam who struggled against the shark's bulk but couldn't break free. The two owners brought the combatants out the door, Shaw following close behind. Once they were out into the cool, northern California air, Liam shot free of Dorian's grip, stumbling forward into the alleyway. Joel just glared at the skunk while remaining restrained by Amos.

“Let me get you a first aid kid," offered Dorian. “We've got one in the staff room. If you want -"

Liam scowled at the shark and stepped away, swatting at him. “Get away from me! You're all the same!" He pointed accusingly at the three owners around him. “You think just because you opened a business together, you're so much better than us! That you're the Alpha Males and you can get any tail you want!"

Thinking about the genuine faces of people, this was the first time Shaw was seeing Liam for who he truly was. The fury blazing in his ex-boyfirend's eyes were just as intense as Joel's but behind them was this flicker of fear. It came from how Liam's eyes would dart to him occasionally, searching for validation.

Deep down, I think he knows he's not invincible… so he has to bring others down to keep up that facade.

“You think you're so hot because you work out and you've got visible muscles," scowled Liam. “That you're successful because you managed to build a gay male bar in the middle of a city that doesn't even need one!" The skunk waves his paws, miming a revelation. “Well newsflash! The vast majority of people think this place is out-of-place and unsightly! No one wants to go home to see guys grinding against one another! And what's worse is that you're putting everyone here in danger of hate crime because you're too proud to admit you're waving your dicks in the middle of a corporate district!"

The skunk's superiority complex was showing. Finding flaws in JACKED's establishment just to make himself sound superior. To the average listener, he had some good points. Why place a gay bar in the middle of the city? Was it not just an open invitation to be attacked?

“Hey!" barked Dorian. “Our business decisions are not your concern. Why we chose this place and how we keep its patrons safe is not for you to worry about!" Liam looked like he was about to counter but Dorian cut him off with a sharp slicing motion of his hands. “And before you say you don't feel safe here, then I'm gonna agree with you because you are not a patron. You're banned." He pointed towards street. “Out!"

The skunk huffed, puffing out his own chest and looking down at the Dorian who was just about an inch or two shorter than him.

“Fine! Come on, Shaw. We're leaving."

All eyes went to him. The fire left Joel's eyes and the bull looked almost pleading. Amos' features were unreadable and Dorian quirked an eyebrow at him.

He didn't move.

“Come on!" huffed Liam impatiently. “You don't want to be around these arrogant assholes who set an unrealistic expectation on the male physique."

Throwing around big-sounding-intelligent words to make it seem like he's smarter than everyone in the room.

Telling me what I want…

How many times has he actually done that in our relationship? How many times did I go along with it? How many times did I anticipate that is what he would say and just did it of my own volition?

“No," Shaw said.

Joel immediately grinned and Dorian looked proud.

“What?" scowled Liam. “You can't be seriously considering staying here with these jock-bro degenerates! Look at them! You don't fit in with any of them!"

He looked back towards the door leading into the bar.

“That's where you're wrong," he said firmly, his eyes drifting slowly back to Liam. “Are you saying that I don't fit because I'm a bear? I saw lots of bears in there. Even colas like me."

As he spoke, courage began to fill his chest and he started straightening his posture. “I don't fit because I have a little extra weight? There are guys out there that are proud of their weight and even think it's cute."

For the first time, he actually felt taller than Liam even though, physically, this was fact.

“Is it because I wear glasses? My line of work? I like videogames?" He took a deep breath and shouted, “Bullshit."

Liam visibly flinched.

“The only person here that doesn't belong is you, Liam. Not because of any outward reason like your appearance or what you like but because you refuse to be part of it. You wouldn't even give it a chance and started spouting off imaginary faults or hurling insults at anyone that was here. You insulted the owners for having the courage to gather six guys and coordinate the opening of a gay bar in the middle of the city where there's no other establishment like it in a twenty-mile radius!"

Each of the owners were nodding in agreement.

“And you're just scared," concluded Shaw, shaking his head. “Scared to admit that compared to them, you don't hold a candle to how much better they are. And before you say anything…" He held up a finger. “… I'm not talking about finances, appearance or even general attitude. I'm talking about the fact that they can accept who they are. They know they're messed up and that's why they've got others that can pick up the slack for them." He glanced over to Joel, offering him a tiny little smile. “After all, the six of them, even with all their faults, come together to make one functioning adult."

That got a little ripple of laughter from the owners and a scowl from blue and black skunk.

“You can't even admit to yourself that you've got flaws," Shaw said. “Or maybe you know you're flawed but you just can't accepted it and purposefully throw the blame to someone else so you don't have to take accountability for them." Shaking his head, Shaw stepped towards half of owners of JACKED. “Between you and them, I know who I would pick."

Liam's face scrunched up in fury, a little more blood squeezing out of his bruised, pink nose. His eyes were searching Shaw, trying to probe for a weakness. Shaw could almost hear the cogs ticking away in his ex-boyfriend's mind, concocting some insult or a way to divert blame away from himself. Or maybe even some revelation that would dramatically have Shaw come back to him.

But the bear stood his ground.

I'm not going to be manipulated by you anymore, Liam.

I'm not dependent on you. I never was.

For the first time, I know my value.

As if reading his mind, Liam straightened and pointed an accusing finger at no one in particular. “I'll sue!" he threatened. “You can't just punch a guy in your bar! I'll sue your bar! I swear!"

Yeah? With what money? Is that dalmatian you were fucking going to pay for your lawsuit to win back your ex's approval?

Amos looked like he was about to say something but Dorian quickly raised a hand and pushed the big dragon back.

“Then I look forward to hearing from your lawyer," answered the shark in a chillingly curt manner.

With no one rising to the bait, Liam stared at them angrily. His eyes even seemed to grow red in angry as blood vessels crawled in to the sclera of his eyes. “You can't just punch a patron, you know! I have rights! I'll take you for everything you're worth! I'll own this bar by the end of the year! You'll see!"

“The court with make that decision," said Dorian, again with this cold, professional tone that Shaw had never heard any of the guys use before. “Now, I suggest you kindly get off our private property and stop making threats. As I mentioned, you are banned from our establishment so at this point, refusal to leave the premises is considered trespassing."

Liam threw one last look at Shaw, silently pleading for him to come along. However, to the bear, it only looked like the desperate look of a defeated individual trying to garner some pity.

There was a little bit of shellshock seeing the skunk like this. The historical image Shaw had of Liam was that he was this sociable, mature, intelligent extrovert that could win over anyone and was always right about anything and everything.

Now, all he saw was a broken, beaten and desperate child who couldn't stand losing and was throwing around threats and eek out some small victory.

It was not going to work.

Shaw remained silent and steadfast in his steadfast in his support of Joel, Amos and Dorian.

That was the last straw for Liam who huffed, turned around and stormed down the alleyway onto the street.

When he was gone, Shaw let out a sigh of relief.

“Fuck… you think he'll actually sue?" Joel grumbled.

“Maybe," Dorian responded. “A police report is more likely but to bring this to the court…?" The shark clucked his tongue. “It'd be legal trouble. I don't think he'd win. We've got footage, witnesses and a character witness…" The shark nodded towards Shaw. “Thing is, Joel did punch first. He could catch us in a lengthy court battle but he wouldn't win it."

“Not that he could afford it," rumbled Shaw. “He barely makes minimum wage. Even with tips. He'd never be able to afford a lawyer even if he was to get his new spotted side-piece's help." The bear shook his head. “Still, I better head this off before it gets worse. I'll go talk to him."

As he stepped forward, Dorian's hand fell on his shoulder and pulled him back.

“Give him time to cool off. Anything you do now might just make things worse." Dorian's eyes drifted back down the alleyway. “And with the look in his eyes after you stood by us, I'm honestly afraid for your safety."

Shaw's heart jump to his throat and, with a small 'eep', he lifted his paws to his throat. “You don't think he'd actually… hurt me, do you?"

“I dunno. Has he ever been punched before?"

Shaw shook his head to indicate a negative.

“Then he might just do something drastic," replied Dorian grimly. “He's been broken out of his comfort zone. Called out on his bullshit and exposed for being an asshole. He's cornered. A cornered animal is twice as deadly." Dorian looked to Amos. “Probably best you don't go back to your place tonight. Amos, you think he can stay with you…?"

The dragon held up his hands, spreading his wings lightly. “Not tonight, bro. I've got shit all over the place."

“We could go to my place," Joel suggested. Then he grimaced. “But he knows who I am. Got my name too. That asshole seems like the kind of guy to hunt us down."

Liam was not above a little stalking. Much like Killian, he was the kind of person that was aware of all the social media platforms. Additionally armed with enough technical knowledge and determination, he to find someone's address from crawling through their profiles. A dangerous combination of Killian and Erick without the expertise of both.

“My place it is then," Dorian said. The shark gave Shaw a little smile. “Hope you don't mind an ocean-themed apartment."

Joel

'Ocean-themed' was putting it mildly.

Dorian lived in the suburb known as Sheercliff. Orcas, dolphins, seals, walruses and even some species of aquatic mammals made Sheercliff their home. Built into the base of the cliffs that gave Golden Cliffs its name, the suburb was constructed to be a sort of 'floating island' that jutted out of a section of the cliff that had long collapsed. Buildings and homes were placed within the gap to help stabilize the cliff and keep it from collapsing further while a network of floating, wooden walkways jutted out into the ocean behind a seawall. This kept the waters from bashing against the base of the cliff and furthering erosion while also giving local businesses the opportunity to flourish.

Tourists often chose Sheercliff as their place to stay. Hotels had built bungalows out into the sea while the cleanest and most crystal-clear waters were on display. It was the family-friendly part of Golden Cliffs. An hour's drive from the JACKED, it was far enough from the hustle-and-bustle of the city to be considered a small township of its own.

Like many of the suburb's residents, Dorian had to make sure that his skin was constantly hydrated or risk it cracking and breaking out into blisters. His district complex was specifically designed for aquatic guys like him. The air was kept perpetually humid which immediately started causing moisture to gather in Joel's fur and his hair to start frizzing out. He immediately felt about five pounds heavier just making it up the stairs to the second floor where Dorian lived. Humidifiers were built into the hallways to maintain the humidity and water in the air. Lighting was kept to a minimum with cool colors like blues and greens dominant while the walls were coated with a special mold-resistant paint. A few creeping plants were allowed to grow over the walls giving it an almost rainforest-like vibe.

Dorian's apartment was decorated more towards the ocean. The walls were a deep blue and all of the lights were made of these LED smart lights that would cast a soft aura with rippling water designs. The like children would have as nightlights. His furniture was almost exclusively made out of bare wood - only left its natural brownish color while being laminated with an anti-mold coating. The floor was covered in sandstone tiles. Fixtures such as the kitchen counter, stove and any other appliances were made out of stainless steel.

It was a two-story loft-style apartment. The first floor had a small atrium with an alcove to the left of the door where Dorian deposited his keys. Beyond that was the lounge room where his television sat. To the left of that was the kitchen and bathroom. To the right of the alcove was a flight of stairs leading to the second floor loft 'balcony' which had a view of the lounge and the 'open' bedroom. Beyond the balcony was a door leading to the master bedroom and Joel knew that just behind said bedroom was another bathroom.

Joel always felt so relaxed whenever he visited Dorian. His place just exuded 'calm' and the gentle, constant movement of the lights simulating crystal clear waters was oddly hypnotic.

Then Dorian would strip down and he'd be fully awake again.

The minute the shark stripped off his shirt, tossed it aside and then began removing his pants, Joel felt Shaw immediately go rigid next to him.

“Right…" Joel rumbled, laughing softly and rubbing the back of his neck partially out of shame and partially because sweat was gathering there. “… Forgot to mention that Fish is kind of a nudist when he's in his apartment."

“You'd think you'd mention that first!" sneered Shaw.

Dorian perked his pointed ears and glanced back towards them. “Sorry," apologized the shark, offering a little grin. “Hydration is really important for me. It doesn't get too hot up here but I've got to keep my skin hydrated every few hours or it'll start to crack. I'm a shark, after all." He spread his arms a little. “And because of that, I keep my apartment really humid so I don't have to keep showering all the time. Clothes get in the way."

“Damp clothes are hell even for us landwalkers," admitted Joel, pulling at the collar of his shirt just to keep it from sticking close to his neck. They had been in the building for just ten minutes and it already felt like he was taking off a layer of tape from his fur. Even Shaw was showing clear discomfort.

“If it makes you feel better, we can strip off in different rooms," offered Shaw. “Get used to sitting out in the nude or your underwear and then call us in when you're ready."

Shaw fidgeted a bit but judging by the large sweat stains appearing under his armpits, he wouldn't last much longer. “Yeah, I think that'll be good. Sorry… It's just… different."

Keeping his shorts around his waist, Dorian smiled brightly and nodded towards the stairs leading to the second floor. Joel followed his friend and lover up to the second floor where they entered Dorian's bedroom.

Dorian had to have an unusually fluffy and almost liquid bed filled with a non-Newtonian liquid and made of a highly resistant material as a cover. The fin sticking out from the back of his head would have pierced any other fabric and given Dorian was a restless sleeper, any other fabric would have never held its integrity against his shark-skin. It made sex with him a little rough but when appropriately lubricated, it was a lot of fun. Like the rest of his home, the lighting was dim and cool with furniture having a very clear 'sea-theme'. It was rather telling that Dorian had no pictures of his family. Of course he had pictures of the JACKED boys - even had a photo of when they had their loan approved framed and hanging above his head - but nothing depicting his big family.

Eleven brothers and not one of them worth remembering.

Dorian began stripping off his shorts, tossing them aside to reveal the jockstrap he wore beneath which brought a curious look from Joel.

“Were you going to pick up someone by acting like a jock today?" he asked.

“Fuck you," snarled his friend playfully. “You know the flexibility helps with my junk."

Being a shark, Dorian had the honor of having two cocks. Unlike his brothers, though, when the great diving being in all its wisdom took a foot off Dorian's height, it put it instead into Dorian's pants. Though Amos would argue otherwise, everyone in JACKED knew that Dorian had the longest cock. The fact that he had two only made it more exotic. The problem the shark had, though, was that having two dicks swinging around one another in his pants often made mobility difficult. It was fairly common to see the fish reach down past his belt and jostle is dick because he was literally trying to untwist his members. Being the hairiest of the boys as well meant that his pubes could get tangled with all the moving parts.

So it made sense that he wore a jockstrap predominantly. The fabric was flexible and loose, after all.

“You know how much of an fucking moron you were tonight, right?" Dorian said, peeling off the jockstrap next. Joel's view of his friend's legendary members was momentarily obscured as he pulled his shirt off his head. He had to navigate around his horns and with his shirt heavy with sweat and collected moisture, that became difficult. Thankfully, Dorian's strong hands gripped his arms and began guiding them the fabric around his horns.

“Thanks," Joel rumbled, tossing the shirt aside. It landed with a wet thump on the sandstone tiles. “And I was just defending the bar."

“No you weren't," Dorian responded with a cocky smirk. “You were trying to be the alpha male and trying to rescue your new beau from a toxic ex. I get it." The shark shrugged as he reached down and began unbuckling Joel's belt in a familiar fashion. “But you still shouldn't have punched that little shithead."

The bull grimaced. “Is he gonna be trouble?"

“Best case scenario? He does nothing. Maybe your fluffy cola can talk him down. Worst case, he takes us to a judge for aggravated assault. Maybe you might get slapped with a fine. We can probably settle something to avoid any sort of conviction. We can argue the asshole provoked you and he was on our property. Don't think he paid for anything, right?"

Joel shook his head.

Dorian finished unbuckling Joel's pants and left them open for a second. When they didn't immediately start sliding down, he knelt down and began peeling the fabric away from Joel's legs. “Then we could argue that he wasn't technically a 'patron'. Pursuing a police report might be the easiest way to solve things and keep us out of the courts."

Letting out a heavy sigh not only because he was now free of the extremely chafing and heavy burden of his jeans but also because of Dorian's assessment, Joel ran a hand down his face. “Sorry. Just… When that asshole was speaking… insulting our bar… criticizing me… I don't know… I guess I just saw my old man in him."

“Don't think your dad would ever be caught dead in a gay bar," Dorian responded, straightening. Joel began stripping off the boxer shorts he was wearing, grimacing as his cock and balls were finally allowed to air out a little.

“But did something happen?" Dorian pressed. “You've had bigger assholes mouth off at you before. Remember how Hank used to be?"

The bartender rolled his eyes. Hank - one of their regulars and now a close friend - had first come to JACKED and loudly complained about the lack of anything even remotely as colorful as he wanted it to be. He was incredibly insufferable at first but Joel and the others eventually wore him down. Erick's dick helped immensely.

Thinking back to his friend's question, however, Joel could not help but remember that the memory of his father's most recent words were still very fresh in his mind. “My old man had a scare."

Dorian tilted his head in genuine concern. “Shit. What happened?"

“He slipped into a coma yesterday." Joel slapped his muzzle lightly, trying to knock the negative thoughts from himself. “Fuck… He looked bad, man. But when I talked to him, he was still his usual asshole-self." The snarl on his lips turned into a slight grimace. “But… this was different."

“What do you mean?"

Joel lowered his hand and locked gazes with his friend, searching for some form of understanding. “It was… It was like he had given up. Like he had accepted his fate." His voice became heavy with emotion, his breath clogged up by the humidity in the air. “I remember him telling me that he had given up on my giving him a grandson and he might as well die because God was calling him. Cussed out the doctors because they wouldn't let him die in peace."

Dorian's arms wrapped around him and the shark gently led him to the bed. They sat on the edge, the mattress curving and undulating beneath them. “Shit… I've never known Old Bart to be like that. I remember when I met him for the first time…" The shark let his voice drop into a gruff, raspy growl that was a terrifyingly accurate mimicry of Bartholomew Rockham. “This the fag you're fucking, boy?"

That brought a laugh to Joel's lips. “And then I remember him calling you 'short' after that."

“I would've punched him if he wasn't your dad," Dorian agreed. The fish's smile slowly faded. “You must've known he was going to go eventually. The man is really sick. I know you love him but…"

Grunting softly, Joel's hands curled into fists. “… but it's still hard. He's still my old man. And I guess…" Joel sighed softly, pushing back his hair which was starting to hang over his eyes due to the humidity. “… I guess after Liam started mouthing off like that, I just saw my old man and… and I exploded." He growled and slamming his fist into his open palm. “I want to sock my old man right in his fucking jaw so much but…" His arms slumped to his side. “… I just can't."

Dorian let out a soft sight and leaned his head against Joel's shoulder. “You know, I think if any of my brothers died or my dad was on his deathbed, I'd feel the same way. You really should tell him how you feel. Before it's too late." Then Dorian poked Joel's chest. “And not use a guy's ex as a proxy."

Flicking his ears away from the shark and smiling softly. “Yeah, alright. I'm going to go see him tomorrow anyway. If tonight has taught me anything, I can't fucking punch a ghost or the asshole that's channeling my old man's spirit."

“You need company tomorrow?"

He considered it for a second before shaking his head. “No. I want to settle things with him not drive him to an early grave or suicide." With a smirk, he said, “I think it's slowly killing him that I'm still gay, still loving a bunch of other guys and am killing it financially. He might just be holding on until he sees me fail."

“Who knows how the universe works?" Dorian gently reached up and tilted Joel's muzzle so they were looking at each other again. “If you told ten-year-old me that I was going to give me heart to a bull that's twice my age and four other guys, I would've kicked you in the balls and run away right into my daddy's arms. Now though, I get to call you my daddy."

Joel grabbed the shark's long, conical snout and pushed him away playfully. “Never call me that. You know better than that."

A shout came from downstairs.

“Guys? You okay up there?" Shaw began. “I'm… uhm… I'm naked."

Dorian, turning to face the door, laughed softly. “God, he's so cute. Reminds me of little-old me living in a household surrounded by super-macho, baby-pumping guys."

Joel stood and started towards the door. “Then I'm sure you two will get along." He gestured towards the door. “Come on. Let's go surprise him with the 'twins' there." Using two wiggling fingers, he gestured at Dorian's dual dicks.

The shark grinned at him and the two of them left the bedroom. As they made their way down the stairs, Joel was surprised to find Shaw standing behind the counter with what looked like a few glasses of mixed drinks. Like everyone else, the bear was naked but his lower half was hidden behind the counter.

Shaw's eyes boggled the moment he caught sight of Dorian.

A typical reaction.

“Whoa…" he breathed.

“Hi," Dorian greeted, confidently approaching the bear in a non-threatening way. “Whatcha got there, cool cola?"

It took until Dorian's lower half was obscured by the counter before Shaw responded. “Oh! Uhm… I hope you don't mind but… I saw some alcohol here and decided to see if I could make my own mixture." He gave Joel a little smile. “I mean, maybe my drink isn't one that someone else makes for me but one I make for myself."

Huh… that's a fair thought.

I wonder if I'm going to get a part-time bartender.

His eyes fell on the brew. It looked like it had some sort of opaque clear liquid at the base before transitioning into a light yellow and then the rest was dominated by a blue fluid with a little bit of effervescence.

Hmmm… Lemon juice and maybe some ginger ale and then blue curacao?

Should work.

He took one of the three glasses and lifted it up into the air. “Cheers!"

Shaw and Dorian did the same, both exclaiming 'Cheers' at the same time.

They all took a sip.

…

Oh god!

Joel's eyes boggled.

It's horrible!

It took all his effort to swallow the little sip he had accumulated. “It's…" he began shakily.

Dorian outwardly gagged and lowered the glass, eyes squeezed shut and holding out his tongue. “Why is it salty!?"

“I thought that's what people do with drinks," Shaw responded, shuddering from head to toe. “Put salt in their drinks? Isn't that what's around the edges of a margarita?"

“You don't put them in the drink," answered Dorian. “And why is there so much… coconut taste?"

Sour coconut, Joel thought miserably. Like coconut that's sat out in the sun too long and started to rot…

“I used this coconut rum I found and something called 'blue curacao'," Shaw admitted, ducking his head a little. “I put a little lemon juice to give it freshness… I based it off a 'Blue Hawaiian' but I don't like pineapple juice so I thought lemons would do the same thing…"

The ratios are off. I think he didn _'t want it to be_ too blue_ … Probably thought it was expensive because it was colored._

So he put more rum than needed.

“It's a good first try," Joel said with an encouraging smile. He moved behind the counter, catching Shaw's gaze lingering at his exposed cock and balls as he did so. “Let me try something… Hey, Fish, you got any condensed milk?"

Dorian directed him to the pantry. Using much of the same ingredients Shaw had used, he began mixing a cocktail. While he was mixing, Shaw asked why Joel had called Dorian 'Fish'. The nickname was pretty obvious given Dorian's species but the story actually came from when they had first met the shark.

“I was part of the swim team back in college," Dorian said. “I know, shocker. The shark is a swimmer." The bulky male gestured at his very hairy chest. “Believe it or not, I had all of this shaved down. Typical swimmer shit. Reduce drag. I was pretty damn skinny back then."

“Fuck that," snorted Joel. “You were not skinny. You had a swimmer's build."

“Skinny," Dorian corrected. “After I met these assholes, though, they got me more comfortable with who I was. So I let my body hair grow out. They just call me 'Fish' as a callback to those times."

Shaw tilted his head a little to the side, rounded ears perked. “If you don't mind me asking… I've never met a shark that's as… hairy as you."

“It's a stereotype of my species, I guess. Aquatic species have to be smooth because they swim a lot." Dorian shook his head, his tail thumping against the ground. “Bullshit. We live on land damn it. I don't have any goddamn gills. My nose is up here." He pointed at the tip of his snout. “I have lungs just like anyone. I do not have to keep moving to breathe and I can drown in water."

“Sorry," Shaw mumbled lowering his head again. “I didn't mean to offend."

“Naw, dude," Dorian laughed. “All good. I get asked that a lot. At least you didn't ask me why I'm so short."

Shaw lifted his eyes a little. “You're considered short? I wouldn't have known."

There, the shark gave him a toothy grin and looked towards Joel. “Okay, I like this guy."

Just in time as Joel returned with two glasses filled with a milky, blue liquid. “What did I tell you? He'd fit right in." Setting the glassed down in front of the two, he said, “This is called a Blue Iguana. Basically the same concept as what Shaw was trying but with condensed milk. Mellows out some of the flavors and makes it rounder."

Both men picked up the glass and even spared a glance at Shaw's experimental drink for a second before taking a sip from their new drink.

“Nice!" Dorian exclaimed. “You're right. It's much smoother."

Shaw nodded in agreement. “Yeah. It's different enough that I know I can't get this normally and I can barely taste the alcohol!"

Oh shit! Did I do it!? Did I find his drink!?

Joel leaned forward, eyes wide and both his hands on the counter.

Then Shaw gave him an apologetic look. “But really, it just tastes like an orange milkshake that's blue."

His head dropped.

Damnit…

“Don't give up, Rocky!" laughed Dorian. “You'll find his drink one of these days! But for now, let's enjoy these bad boys on the couch! After tonight, we need to chill."

Resigning himself to yet another defeat, Joel gestured for Dorian to lead the way. The big shark took up the center position of the three-seater couch in the middle of the lounge-room facing the wooden entertainment center. He had a beefy, 75-inch TV that was encased in it's own airtight, plastic casing so that moisture and mold couldn't develop within the electronics.

“Lexy," commanded the shark, “turn on the TV and switch on the Exceed Spire feed."

Joel's ears immediately perked up as he sat down to Dorian's right. “Oh shit. I forgot that was on today."

Shaw was equally as excited and bounded towards the couch, parking himself to the fish's left. “Exceed Spire? That MOBA that has it's own professional circuit?"

“That's the one," Joel responded, eyes on the TV as it sprang up and showed the current roster. They were thirty minutes into the game, about mid-to-late game in the current setup. “We play it some nights with Erick."

A small smile touched Shaw's lips. “I didn't think you'd be into games like that. I thought you were mostly into single player games and Endless Abandon?"

Joel waved the comment aside. “You can play Exceed Spire against bots. More fun with friends though. You ever played?"

Shaw indicated a 'no' with his head. “I tried some MOBAs early on but every time I jump into one, I always get thrown into this toxic group that would kick me because I was new. Guess I should've tried with the AI first and gotten better."

“AI is cool but you'll never compete against the unpredictability of genuine people playing," Dorian commented. “You should join us one of these days. We play pretty casually." He beamed at Shaw. “If you want, we can all be on one team and then we just go up against bots. Get you some experience beneath your belt!" The shark elbowed Shaw lightly. “Plus, they're doing a whole promotion for skins during the tournament! You farm more points if you play with others even if it's just against bots!"

The bear let out a non-committal noise as his eyes wandered back towards the TV. Joel, did notice, however, that Shaw's eyes did linger at Dorian's twin cocks. Keeping a smile to himself, the bull turned back towards the game while the cogs were slowly turning in his head.

“We should set up that old-school LAN party setup that we did that one time," he commented. “Remember? Back in college, we went to Erick's place and played a couple of rounds together."

Dorian beamed brightly. “Oh yeah! That was fucking sweet! Felt like I sleeping over at my buddy's place again." His grin grew a little broader. “Of course, we did some non-kid-friendly shit afterwards."

“I blame you, you goddamn nudist!"

The shark made a helpless gesture. “I can't help it! Erick keeps his place fucking cold! He's a winter wolf for sure."

Joel leaned forward, his eyes falling onto Shaw who was clearly staring at Dorian's dick. The bear realized a second later that he was caught staring, blushed and pretended to reach over to his drink which sat on the coffee table.

Oh, you're a horny cola tonight.

“For context," Joel supplied, “Erick runs hot. Like really hot. We don't know why but you could scald yourself on his sweat."

“Makes for great hugging material in the winter," Dorian commented, waving a webbed hand absently. “But he has his AC running all the goddamn time! It's freezing at his place! Freezing and dry! If I'm ever staying over at his place, I have to make sure I shower before sleeping or I'd wake up with blisters and cracked skin!"

“You might like it," Joel commented. “Being a polar bear and all."

“Uh-huh…" mumbled the cola, his eyes fixated on the television though, every now and then, they would dart to the corner just to spy Dorian's dick.

Only now did the shark notice and for a second, he and Joel exchanged knowing glances. Dorian looked like he was asking for permission and all Joel needed to do was nod before the shark was stretching his arms into the air and then bringing them down like two hooks around the shoulders of the two men beside him.

“You know…" cooed the fish gently, leaning towards Shaw even though his eyes were still on the television. “… you can touch them if you want."

Shaw was doing his full-body blush again. Judging from the gentle pulsating of his own cock, however, the bear was more than eager. Still, he needed a little bit more courage. Joel leaned over, grabbed the rest of the bear's drink and handed it to Shaw. The now-pink polar bear grabbed the glass, downed the rest of the drink and then slammed the glass back onto the coffee table. He closed his cute, green eyes and gently reached out with a quivering paw. The moment the tips of his claws brushed against one of Dorian's dicks, he flinched away an inch or two.

Then he opened one eye, guiding his paw closer to the member. His fingers traced their length from base to about halfway down the shaft before moving to the second member and doing the same.

“Oh shit…" he breathed. “They're real…"

“Did you ever have any guys with two dicks growing up?" Dorian asked gently, encouragingly. He reached out, gently taking Shaw's paw and guiding the bear's palms to rest around his cock. Shaw's fingers closed around the shaft all on their own.

“I… I heard about it," rumbled the bear, both his eyes now open as he gently began stroking Dorian's dick. “I had a few reptiles in class and one or two sharks but I never actually saw their… their penises." He frowned for a minute. “Is it weird that I know porn exists of guys with your anatomy but I've never actively sought them out…?"

Joel laughed softly. “Just because you're gay doesn't mean that you've got to like every kind of guy out there. It's not discriminatory to prefer a certain kind of anatomy or to get aroused by a certain kind of body."

“And I won't be offended if my dicks aren't to your tastes," Dorian said quickly.

“Oh hell no," rumbled Shaw, drawing closer to the rapidly rising members. “I… I want to taste it so much."

Dorian leaned over, his snout just brushing up against Shaw's ear. “Don't let me stop you."

Without further prompting, Shaw - eyes wide - leaned down towards Dorian's twin cocks. His tongue was out of his muzzle before it even touched the shark's hairy crotch. Joel found it immensely arousing to watch the bear go down on his friend. It only brought them closer. He mentally ticked off a checklist, confirming that after Dorian, Shaw would have interacted with each member of JACKED either sexually or intimately.

Dorian let out a soft grunt, bringing him back to reality. The shark's cocks were quickly rising. They were already impressively long and with two of them, it seemed impossible to have so much manliness attached to one hairy beast's body. And yet that was one of the reasons that Joel was attracted to Dorian. Apart from being a down-to-earth kind of guy and clearly the smartest of the JACKED boys, he was unbelievably sexy.

Joel simply could not help himself.

As Shaw pushed his muzzle in the divide between the two members, his tongue dancing between the two shafts, Joel leaned in and snaked his own tongue down Dorian's left member. Shaw noticed this, their eyes meeting. There was this aura of disbelief in the bear's eyes - like he couldn't comprehend that he was sucking off the same guy as Joel - but it was masked and subdued by his actions. Shaw peeled his muzzle away from the base of the cocks and guided the other member towards his lips.

“Shit…" rumbled the cola. “You're so big…"

“He's a shower," chuckled Joel. “Not a grower. Doesn't mean I don't love him any less."

Dorian leaned back against the couch. “Shut the fuck up, both of you, and get to sucking."

Joel gave Shaw a sly wink and guided the other member into his muzzle, his long, flexible, serpentine-like tongue snaking out and capturing the long shaft in his muzzle. Shaw was watching him closely, cheeks afire and bright red, mirroring his motions. With one hand on the base of Dorian's shaft and the other supporting himself against the shark's knee, he proceeded to slowly slide the organ into his muzzle and down his throat. At the same time, with a gentle grip, he ran his paw up the shark's shaft. With all the humidity in the air, the motion was extremely smooth with little resistance.

Dorian's taste was familiar and triggered a sense of 'erotic exoticism' in him. Salty but not in the way a man would taste when sweaty and right after a workout. There was a 'taste of the sea' element to it mixed with the musky aroma of a hirsute man. Salty, pepper and just with a light twang of citrus at the end. Precum was jetting out of the shark's pointed cock, adding to the flavor.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Shaw following his example, doubling the pleasure of their mutual friend. The bear was quaking, his eyes glazed over and his glasses sliding down to the tip of his muzzle as he was absorbed and engulfed in the pheromones of all three men caught in the heat of the moment. Ironic that such humid temperatures made for the perfect environment for their musk to hang in the air.

Joel still had enough of his senses to use the hand that wasn't stroking Dorian's dick and run his fingers through the shark's hairy legs. He knew Dorian loved it when people stimulated his body hair. Maybe it heralded back to when the shark had to go perpetually smooth to keep up with the stereotype of aquatic creatures. Or maybe he was just really sensitive to having his body hair played with. When Joel ran his fingers up Dorian's treasure trail and lightly grabbed a handful of the fish's chest hair, Dorian arched his back and let out a loud moan.

Shaw clearly took notice. His other paw gently caressed Dorian's leg hair, making the shark curl his toes in response. Getting such a positive response clearly spurred the ursine further as he ran his fingers up Dorian's torso and began rubbing them against the shark's chiseled abdominals. Dorian huffed loudly, his thrusting growing more and more eager.

With the added force of his gyrating hips, more and more of the long cock was being shoved down their throats. Joel slowly eased away from from stroking Dorian's dick but instead had to focus on easing his throat as the tip began sliding further and further down the back of his throat. For a second, he worried that Shaw might not be prepared for such a cock but then he felt the bear's heated cheeks brushing against his own.

A quick glance at the ursine showed the bear completely entranced in the moment, taking every inch of Dorian's cock eagerly and like a champ. Joel was almost a little jealous - he was known to give the best head because of his flexible tongue. Not to be beaten, he dove down, pressing his nostrils right up against Dorian's base and letting his tongue snake out between his lips and lathering the shark's hairy balls with gentle touch. He could feel his friend's sac eagerly jostle with cum.

Shaw was not to be outdone and he dove down just as Joel was pulling away, swallowing every inch without any inhibitions holding him back. Dorian let out a gasping gag and the two men began a steady rhythm between them. Joel would dive to the base, closing his muzzle and throat around the shark's incredible length to squeeze out every inch of precum that had started seeping up the member just as Shaw was pulling back, taking a breath and lightly pinching the tip between his lips. Then Joel would pull back and Shaw would dive down towards the thick bush at the base of the shark's cock, using the breath he had collected to draw a long, drawn-out suck that had Dorian lifting right off the couch.

They would trade placed, Joel sucking and Shaw breathing.

A second later, they would swap, Shaw sucking and Joel breathing.

Their constantly hammering caused the shark's hips to gyrate faster and faster, his tail slapping against the floor eagerly.

“Oh… Oh my god…" Dorian cried, baring his teeth together, his fingers scraping against the back of the couch.

Joel felt a little splash of precum on his thigh and for a second, he feared that he had let a little bit of Dorian's juices slip by him - a personal shame on his part. Then he noticed that the source was not from the man he affectionately called 'Fish'. It came from Shaw's own dick which - while erect and throbbing - so far went unattended.

A mischievous thought crept into his mind now that he had a free hand. He dove down every inch of Dorian's cock and in the same movement, reached over and grabbed Shaw's cock. The bear took a bigger than usual gasp, his cute green eyes widening for a second before the flush of arousal overtook his senses and he was sliding back down the cock hovering at the tips of his lips. As Joel pulled away, he mirrored the gesture with his hand, sliding his fingers to the tip of Shaw's dick. When he plunged down, he completed his stroke of the bear's dick.

Shaw's own moans accompanied Dorian's. The bear's glasses slipped off his face, clattering on the ground. In a brief moment of lucidity, Shaw brushed them aside with his free paw only for back of his knuckles to brush against Joel's shoulders. He was blinded now between his impaired vision and the strong heat of passion that radiated throughout his body. Still, there was some part of him that wanted to return the favor to Joel and he groped blindly for the bull's cock.

What he found instead was solid muscle.

Shaw's paws grasped Joel's shoulder, holding onto it tight. A soft hum emitted from the bear like a man truly enjoying a mouthful of steak. Joel wasn't sure why that aroused him so much but he intentionally flexed his shoulders with his next cycle. Shaw's grip around his muscles grew stronger.

That only made him harder. It was a boost to his confidence, an adrenaline to his ego and fed the 'alpha male' that Liam had accused him of being. With both of his hands currently occupied, he had no choice but to press his cock against Dorian's thick, hairy calves. Steel-like, corded muscles met his sensitive flesh and he couldn't help but imagine the thick, vascular calf muscles that his cock was rubbing against. He could almost trace a map of the rivers of veins they made against the mountainous mounds. Like a wolf in heat, he rutted against the shark's leg; two thrusts to every time he stroked and sucked.

Their pace grew more and more fevered with Dorian rapidly reaching his limit.

The shark let out a loud hissing gasp, a geyser about to erupt. The hirsute fish finally pulled his hands away from the couch and grabbed the back of the two men's heads.

“Fuck!" he roared. “Fuckfuckfuck! FUCK!"

He thrust his hips into both men and pushed them down against his dicks at the same time, disrupting their well-timed dance to a stunning conclusion. Both Joel and Shaw were pressed up against the shark's crotch, feeling the hairy balls bounced against their chins. Hot cum shot up the length of the dual cocks. There was a strange sensation as they could both feel the flood seeping up their muzzles but not taste it as it funneled down the long length.

Joel closed his eyes and braced himself, resisting the urge to take a breath. Molten shark seed blasted right into the back of his throat, the cock in his muzzle throbbing uncontrollably while the grip on the back of his head tightened, holding him against the musky crotch. His eyelids fluttered. He never could get enough of this sensation; of being filled by a man he genuinely cared about and being held so close.

Yet this was slightly different.

His cheek was pressed up against's Shaw's. He got the same sense of closeness as they both worked to swallowed ever drop that Dorian gave them. There was a second where he worried that Shaw wasn't prepared for a deep-throat cumshot but that was quickly erased by the second blast that came from Dorian's dual dicks.

Shaw didn't choke. He took each blast with great eagerness.

Then Dorian's grip loosened and both men pulled back. Joel couldn't pull back fast enough before the third blast splashed into his muzzle filling it with shark cum. Shaw was a little faster and was immediately blasted with seed to his face. The bear kept his muzzle open, tongue out and let himself be bathed in the semen of the hairy shark.

Turning towards the bear, Joel reached out and grabbed the back of Shaw's head. A soft 'huh' escaped Shaw who barely had enough time to close his muzzle before Joel pushed their lips together and shoved the load of cum he had collected into the bear's muzzle. Shaw's eyes widened and then blurred into the moment. The cola's paws finally found purchase around Joel's dick.

Together, they stroked each other off while passing on the load of seed Joel shared back and forth. At the same time, Dorian let out a fourth and fifth blast, showering them both in a shower of seed that might as well have been Shaw's christening into the circle of JACKED. It didn't take long for their cocks to erupt in joy with Joel firing off first and Shaw coming a quick second. The two men grunted and held each other for what seemed like an eternity before they finally pulled away, a little bridge of cum mixed with shared saliva dripping between their lips.

“Holy shit…" breathed Shaw, his paws sliding away from Joel's head and down to the bull's chest.

“Yeah…" rumbled Joel, reflexively bouncing his pectorals.

“… intense…" The bear's eyes drifted to Dorian who had slumped back into the couch, head back and mouth half-open in exhaustion. “Dorian? You okay?"

The shark barely lifted a hand to show them the thumbs up. “Damn…" mumbled the shark. “You… You give amazing head, man."

Shaw grinned though there was an exhausted edge to his smile. “I've been told my ass is better."

Dorian managed to lift his head long enough to say, “Ever been double-stuffed by one guy?"

“No." Then his grip around Joel's dick tightened a little, making the bull let out a soft, half-around, half-confused 'moo'. “But I want to skip the training wheels and go straight to 'triple-stuffing'."

Dorian slumped back into the couch but not before he flashed the two guys a grin and said, “Okay. I love this guy."

?

?

?

?

Shaw

7 AM in the morning in another guy's home yet again.

If Shaw had been more accustomed to hooking up and sleeping at another guy's house, he probably wouldn't have instinctively been shot with a bolt of panic and jumped out of Dorian's special, gelatinous bed. Being filled with a non-Newtonian fluid, his panicked scrambling began sending shockwaves throughout the bed and immediately woke Joel. The bull let out a cry and flailed. The force of his muscled arm slamming against the bed triggered the solidity of the fluid, letting out a dull thump in response.

“Yeow!" cried Joel, sitting up.

“Sorry!" Shaw exclaimed, holding his paws towards the bull before backing away and getting up off the bed. “Sorry again! But I've got to go!"

It took Shaw a second to remember that, despite his insistence, Dorian had actually taken the couch while both Shaw and Joel had occupied the bed. He was a little embarrassed at that arrangement but at the time, he was too physically tired from a day of work and insanely hot sex with a shark while also being mentally exhausted from combating Liam to argue.

Now, he was going to be late for work…

He was already doing the mental gymnastics in his head about how long it would take to get to work. If he left right now, it would take an hour or more to get back to the city. Then he would need time to get dressed, potentially shower and get dressed. He wouldn't have enough time to do all that and get to work even if someone drove him.

Maybe I should just call in sick…?

“It's Saturday."

Those two words hit him like a bucket full of water and ice.

It's… Saturday.

I don't have to go to work.

“Oh… Right," he breathed, trying to convince himself more than anything else. “It's Saturday."

Joel looked like he was about to roll back into bed when he looked like he had been struck by lightning. The bull's tail snapped out straight, the tuft at the end fluffing out and his ears were immediately perked.

“Wait… what time is it?" he asked.

Shaw looked around the room for a clock and found one on a bedside table. “Around seven in the morning. Why?"

“Shit!"

Joel jumped out of the bed and was immediately bolting out the door, confusing Shaw all the more. He gingerly followed the bull as Joel charged down the stairs and scrambled around the apartment, searching for his clothing. Dorian snorted awake on the couch and sat up.

“Whuzzat? Joel?"

“Sorry, Fish," cried the bull, jumping around the apartment as he shoved his damp pants on. “I've got an appointment to keep! I've got to run!"

An appointment? What appointment?

Before Shaw could ever reach the bottom of the stairs, Joel had bolted out the door and slammed it shut behind him. Recalling the previous night, he recalled that they had come here in two cars - Shaw rode with Joel while Dorian took his own vehicle.

Thinking of the shark, Shaw turned to his host with a confounded look. “What was that all about?"

Dorian stretched and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, letting out a little yawn. In that moment, Shaw noticed that Dorian had taken out the dental prosthetics that gave the shark even, straight, white teeth. Seeing those serrated, layered teeth was a little intimidating but, at the same time, he liked seeing the shark in his fully natural state; naked, hairy and fanged.

“If I were to guess," began the shark, “he's probably going to see his dad."

Joel's dad… Huh… After all this time, that is still the one topic I've actively avoided.

He still remembered Amos' ominous warning.

Dorian caught his gaze and smiled slightly, his lips closed to hide his teeth - quite different from the toothy grins he would flash with his implants. “So he still hasn't told you about that asshole, huh?"

Shaw just shook his head.

The shark sat up and moved towards the kitchen counter. There was a device there that looked like a large waffle iron. When he opened it, a burst of steam emerged. Within were his newly sterilized dentures. Dorian slipped them on as easily as one would a shirt but with a little click.

“I suppose since we had the honor of meeting your ex last night, I guess you should know about his version."

His his dad as bad as Liam?

Dorian snickered upon seeing his expression. He waved Shaw over and they moved towards the bathroom on the first floor. Surprisingly, it was more than just a simple washroom. It had a bathtub and shower combination while the upstairs bathroom only had a shower. Dorian switched on the shower. Cool air blasted out of the running water, a stark contrast to their humid environs.

“Bartholomew Rockham is a piece of work," Dorian began. Without even waiting for the water to warm up, he stepped into the tub. “Hope you don't mind cold showers."

Shaw beamed. “I love them." He jerked a thumb at his chest. “Polar bear, remember?"

“Some colas prefer to keep their fur short and like warmer showers."

“You've dated other polar bears?" Shaw asked, stepping into the frankly relieving cold waters of the shower.

“Hooked up. Especially in college. I had one on my swim team. We fooled around once. Don't know where he ended up." Dorian shrugged, rubbing the cool waters all over his skin which immediately began to shimmer and shine as he did so. “Old Man Bart is a super-religious, homophobic, ex-military, multi-divorced, no-filter, chain smoking bag of maggot-ridden shit."

Shaw recoiled a little.

Oof… that was… descriptive.

“That bad, huh?"

“Worse," Dorian snarled. “The first time Joel introduced us, he outwardly asked if I was the 'faggot' Joel was banging. I heard that when he met Erick, he asked if Erick's belly was full of Joel's cum or if he was the one that turned Joel into a cocksucker."

That bought a loud wince. The cold waters of the shower could not soothe that burn. Even if it was inflicted years ago on someone else, Shaw could still feel it scalding his skin. He wasn't quite sure if he should feel angry, insulted or disgusted.

“Why is Joel going to see him?"

Dorian's filled with a little bit of sorrow. “Because our bull bartender still loves his old man even now. Deep down, I think he still wants to impress Bart. Get that fucking bigot to finally acknowledge him as his own son." The shark held up both his hands, palms facing upwards. “Honestly, it's a bit weird. On the one hand Joel clearly wants to be his own man. Be happy on his terms. On the other, he wants to make his dad proud of him. Thing is, I don't think there will ever be anything that will make Bart proud while Joel is being himself."

That's… kind of sad.

Shaw tilted his head. “So Joel goes to visit his dad every week? How does that go?"

“Honestly? Pretty poorly. The old man is in the hospital. He's got lung cancer." Dorian made a gesture like he was pulling a cigarette from his lips. “Chain smoker, remember? Doctors aren't really optimistic."

Oh… kind of makes me happy that I didn't go mouthing off against a dying man…

“Usually what ends up happening is that Joel goes to visit him, our bull is a little serious leading up to the visit and then the minute he's away from the asshole, he's all sunshine and rainbows again. Usually tries to fuck or be fucked as much as possible." The shark snorted. “Like he's saying 'fuck you dad and I still love you' in his own way."

Doesn't seem really healthy.

Shaw rubbed his chin a little. “I wonder why he hasn't told me about his dad…"

“To be honest, he doesn't tell anyone unless we find out ourselves." Dorian began counting with his fingers. “I pestered him until he eventually gave up. Erick stalked him online and figured it out on his own before confronting him. Amos kept whining about Joel not being available to workout certain mornings and Joel eventually told him just to shut him up. He told Cash of his own volition because Cash was bitching about his own asshole parents and Joel told him as a bonding experience. And rumor has it, that Killian ate out Joel's ass so well, that he practically confessed about his dad mid-orgasm."

That can't be real.

Eyebrows raised, Shaw said, “That last one can't be real."

Dorian shrugged. “They keep changing their story. They told Erick that Killian tied Joel down and fucked him until the bull confessed. Amos learned that in exchange for Killian's 'one true drink', Joel had to confess a deep dark secret of his. Cash was told Killian just gave such good head that he literally sucked the secret out of the bull's balls." He grinned. “But we all know that's bullshit. Joel give's the best head."

“Better than me?"

The shark reached up and gently swiped a water droplet off Shaw's cheek. “You're a close second, cola. Use more tongue. Don't stick to the same motions either. Keep it exciting." Dorian pulled back and crossed his arms. “Either way, we all had to find out on our own and experience the guy on our own." He smirked a little at Shaw. “So what do you say? Think it's about time you got initiated into the deep, dark depths that is Joel Rockham's relationship with his asshole of a dad?"

On the one had, Shaw wasn't sure if he should be intruding on another man's privacy like that. He barely knew Joel a week and here he was about to meet the guy's dad. Then again, they had pretty much slept together three times now. About five times, he had woken up in the company of the bull. This was Joel's secret to keep and he was raised never to pry that sort of information out of anyone.

However, that was the old Shaw Feng. The Shaw Feng that would have just shrugged and let his more extroverted and assertive boyfriend tell him he didn't 'have to worry about it' and he would just accepted that as fact.

This Shaw Feng was going to take the initiative.

With a determined look at Dorian, he said, “You drive."