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Jiffy

Chapter 5

Shaw

For the third time in a week, Shaw woke up in unfamiliar surroundings. An off-yellow colored paint covered the walls that were a strange texture to actually make it sand. The ceiling was colored in a calming, sky blue. Morning sunlight streamed in through the blinds of a floor-to-ceiling balcony window. The sheets covering him were velvety and a burgundy color. The pillows, while soft, were a little too squishy for his liking. Minimal neck support.

Rubbing his eyes and the sleep from his features, he sat up, stifling a yawn. A quick glance around him and he took in the bedside table, a few ocean-themed paintings and the lone walk-in closet at the far end of the room. After a few moments of recollection, he remembered that after his session with Killian on the couch the previous night, his mustelid host had offered him the guest bedroom with a sly addition that he was welcome to spend the night with him in the master bedroom if he so wished.

Shaw respectfully declined and opted instead to shower in the guest bathroom. By the time he had finished, Killian had retired to his bedroom. The door had been slightly ajar but there was no light coming from beyond. He briefly wondered if he should sneak in and cuddle with the otter - a little bit of thanks for helping him realize so much about himself. However, he decided against it in case Killian was already fast asleep.

That explained why he woke up in the guest bedroom.

Glancing at the clock, he smiled a little to himself. It was seven in the morning.

seven in the morning… on a Wednesday.

Wednesday… a work day.

“Oh shit!" he cried.

He jumped out of the bed, glad that he at least had his briefs around his waist. His weight on the floor shook the apartment a little as he bolted for the door out of the guest bedroom.

The public area of the apartment was mostly lit and he grimaced a little at the mess they had made on the couch the previous night. Hopefully what Killian had said about water-based lube washing off was accurate. Thankfully, his clothes were not too far from where he had left them the previous night.

Shaw bounded over to where his pants lay on the ground where Killian had sensually removed them before nuzzling his cock. Upon lifting them, he gave them a little sniff and immediately recoiled. His musk was all over it.

Maybe I can go to a corner store and grab some deodorant or something.

Pants retrieved now he just needed his shirt and the undershirt that came with it. A quick glance around the couch didn't reveal any pieces of the white fabric anywhere. He flicked aside a few pillows, briefly was greeted a good morning by Benedict, but couldn't find them anywhere.

Wait… did I actually remove them during…?

No, no he hadn't. He was so enraptured in the throes of lust that he had completely forgotten to take off his shirt. In some ways that made the scene playing in his head hotter. The throbbing in his groin, oddly enough, reminded him that he was on a tight schedule and he didn't have time to be messing around or even to indulge himself a little.

“Where did I leave it…?" he rumbled to himself.

The door to Killian's room opened and the sleepy otter emerged. Against the backdrop of morning with bands of golden sunlight streaming through the blinds, Killian still somehow managed to look absolutely gorgeous even if he had just gotten up. The sunrise actually made it look like he was emitting sparkles of gold!

How does he do that!?

“What's going on?" yawned the otter.

“I'm going to be late for work!"

Killian grinned a little and waved him down. “Oh come on. We don't get to the bar until six."

“I don't work for you!" Shaw exclaimed. That shout joggled his memory enough to remind him that he had taken a shower the previous night so his shirts would be…

“Bathroom!" he shouted in a eureka-moment. Turning he bolted into the guest bathroom which sat across between the guest bedroom and Killian's mix studio. Relief washed over him when he sighted the white garment hanging from the sink.

Grabbing his undershirt, he quickly slipped it on. In doing so, he brushed his nose against the fabric and immediately caught a whiff of the evidence of last night's activities.

Yes, he had had sex with his work shirt on and yes he had cum on them. He grimaced and grabbed his button-up shirt and gave it sniff. It was there too. No amount of deodorant or cologne could ever mask that.

He needed to go home to change.

“You okay, jefe?" asked Killian, dressed only in those teal trunks that he had the previous night. Shaw grimaced as his cock twitched upon seeing the supermodel physique on display in front of him.

“I've got about two hours to get home, get changed and get to work!" he cried.

The otter just seemed to come to the same realization. “How long does it take to get to your work from your place?"

“Worst case an hour," he replied in a panic. “I have to take the bus."

Killian groaned and rolled his eyes. “Cono. I weep for you." He hiked a thumb behind him. “Let me put on some clothes. Then we'll get you to work in my car."

Without thinking, Shaw threw his arms around Killian and gave him a tight hug. “Thank you! I just got back to work after taking two weeks off because of Liam. I don't think it'd look good if I just took today off."

He got a few hearty pats on the back and a bit of a chuckle. “Great. Too tight!" squeaked Killian.

Shaw released the otter, taking a step back. “Oops. Sorry."

“You've got a hell of a hug," said the DJ, bounding back towards his bed. “Ever thought of lifting weights? Maybe adding more strength?"

“Amos suggested the same thing."

“You should think about it. There's a reason why we call Amos 'Coach'."

A few minutes later, both of them were dressed and jumping into Killian's car - a small sedan that could barely fit the two of them and though it was designed to carry five people, they could probably fit four out of the JACKED boys. Three if one of them was either Erick or Amos.

He gave Killian his address while his heart was still pounding hard in his ears. It only took about twenty minutes to get to his apartment from the Promenade. If Killian hadn't offered to drive him, public transport would have made the trip a full hour. With the need to shower and possibly eat, he would not have made it to work on time.

Both of them rushed up to his apartment after Killian parked in the complex's parking garage. He barged through the door and immediately made for his bedroom. A few seconds were wasted when he remembered that he hadn't cleaned the bedroom yet but he quickly shook that off and practically dove into the shower.

“Help yourself to some food!" he shouted as he started the shower running. “I'll be out in ten minutes."

“Take your time," Killian shouted from the kitchen. “We've got plenty of time."

Heart still pounding, Shaw dove into the cold shower. As a polar bear, cold showers never bothered him. In fact, he preferred them simply because his thick fur would absorb the heat far to easily and he'd eventually overheat. That heat would stick with him for a while once he'd left the shower. Cold showers were very comfortable for him.

There was no time to go through his full regimen of fur care. A quick scrub with some soap over his body, a lather of some conditioner and just enough time to rinse all the suds off him. No time to let the conditioner set. He was out of the shower and drying himself with his towel and a fur dryer a moment later. He tried to make himself presentable by combing his fur down. Some stubble was starting to poke through his cheeks but he decided one day without shaving wouldn't kill him.

Naked and still dripping a little, he grabbed some fresh underwear and a new set of work clothes. It must have been comical to see a huge polar bear bouncing into the lounge room barely wearing a shirt and hopping on one foot as he tried to get his slacks on the other leg.

That was when he realized he had also left his jacket at Killian's place.

“Damnit…" he cursed.

Killian approached carrying a plate with two slices of bread that had been covered in butter and jam. “What's wrong?"

“I left my jacket at your place." He ran a paw down his face. “And my tie…"

The otter waved his paw through the air. “You don't need a suit and tie unless you're going for an interview." He stuffed one of the pieces of toast into Shaw's muzzle. “Here…"

With skilled, gentle paws, the Killian unbuttoned Shaw's cuffs and rolled them up past his elbows. “Let's show off your meaty forearms and…" Then he reached up and unbuttoned the two button of Shaw's shirt, pulling at his collars to make sure that the neckline was a little more prominent. “… there! More casual!"

Shaw bit on the toast, chewed on it and glanced at his reflection in the TV. Combined with the slacks, it did seem a little more… casual. Still professional in a sense but more approachable.

“Thanks."

Killian took a step back and snipped his fingers in a sassy manner. “Just call me your Fairy Gayfather." He clucked his tongue and hiked his thumb over his shoulder. “Now come on, let's get your sexy ass to work."

Munching on the last bits of toast as he did so, they jumped back into Killian's car and were zooming towards his office. Morning traffic was hell anywhere in California and that was no different in somewhere as little known as Golden Cliffs.

About another twenty minutes to the ride - at 8:20 - he got a message on his phone. A lump of fear jumped to his throat as he feared that would be his manager demanding to know where he was. Scenarios played through his mind. All negative possibilities had been eliminated even before he looked at his phone screen.

It was from Joel.

“Huh."

“What's up, jefe?" Killian asked. “Did your building catch on fire?"

“No…" he said, opening Joel's message. “Shit… I didn't speak to Joel all last night! I forgot to update him on how the meeting with Liam went."

Killian threw his head back and let out a musical laugh. “Oh, I bet that boy is stewing in the mystery." He waved a paw at Shaw. “Leave him to marinate for a little longer before you put the puta of his misery."

“I'm not like that," Shaw said, throwing the sassy otter a smile before returning to the message.

Joel has simply asked, 'How did it go?'

Ironically, he did take a minute to respond, causing Joel to see him on 'read' for a little longer.

'Not good. Not bad. I guess… it went okay?'

'Really? Did Killian sit on his fabulous ass and just watch the drama? That bitch.'

'No. NO! He was a great help. Emotional support. I think he stopped me from being gaslit by Liam.'

Joel starting replying but he took a few seconds which enabled Shaw to ponder his next respond. Then Joel stopped typing and he decided to press on with his tale.

'Liam kind of blamed me for him cheating. Said he was constantly trying to help me be better by getting him to go out with his friends, arrange outings that included me and I just kept going back to my thing. He didn't say it directly but I'm pretty sure he was hinting that he only cheated on me because I wasn't the best boyfriend I could be. Which I accept but still…'

Those pesky blinking dots appeared indicating Joel was typing something.

'Can I be there next time you meet him?'

For a second, Shaw's brown knitting together in confusion. 'Why?' he asked hesitantly.

'So I can punch him in the face next time he tries to pull that shit on you.'

The response caught him off-guard and he turned towards Killian. “Is Joel normally violent?"

“Oh jefe," laughed the otter. “He's a bull. You twist his balls, he'll charge at you with his horns. We joke it's because he's got 'dad energy' since he's the oldest of us by far." He quirked an eyebrow at him. “Why? What did you say to piss him off?"

After a quick paraphrasing of the events, Killian let out a short laugh.

“Yeah, that would make him pretty protective. Consider yourself lucky to have him in your corner."

A smile touched Shaw's lips and he responded to Joel with, 'We left on civil terms. I think he still wants to get back together but I told him we should start at friends for now.'

'We cheated on you and you still want to stay friends? Take it from someone who has slept with guys who wanted to get back at their exes. This cannot end well.'

Smiling to himself, Shaw replied with, 'Well, then I guess I'm lucky I have you and the rest of the guys with me, right? Thanks for sending Killian along, by the way.'

'Anytime.'

Then after a few moments, the bull added, 'Hey, I'm free until work today. You want to meet up? Tell me the details?'

Shaw nodded then remembered Joel couldn't see him. 'Sure. I know a place close to my job that we can go to. Around noon sound good?'

'Let's do it. See in a jiffy!'

Their text conversation ended just as Killian parked in front of a familiar office building.

“Here we are, jefe," announced the otter. “And with time to spare."

At long last, Shaw was able to breathe a sigh of relief and smiled back at his otter and savior. “Thanks so much, Killian. I really appreciate it."

Then, without thinking, he leaned it and gave the otter a kiss on the cheek. In the same motion, he opened the door with his other paw, grabbed his bag, and was slipping out of the car. It was only when he shut the door behind him that he realized exactly what he had just done.

Wait… we're not even lovers! And I just kissed him on the cheek like we were married!

He hesitated too long. Killian was already peeling away. Watching the otter go left another uncertain question floating around his mind.

Am I… Am I now in love with Killian…?

Shaw shook his head.

No. No I'm not.

I'm still…

He lifted his fingers towards his lips. A smile crawled onto his face.

I'm still evolving. Figuring things out.

Joel

Noon rolled about. Joel had never been to the little restaurant in the middle of town before. It was one of those Chinese eateries where you would order a carb base and then order your entrees cafeteria style. It was quick and the various aromas of the different spices and flavors filled the air with an exotic flair.

There was no customer service.

He just picked a seat and waited.

Shaw appeared about three minutes later, waving at him as he approached. Joel was surprised to see the bear looking so casual. With his sleeves rolled up and his shirt slightly unbuttoned, he had this 'bank bro' look about him and it stirred urges in Joel he had archived a while back. Urges involving drinking whiskey and expensive scotches, cigars and peeling off a heavily-cologned suit in an office while a secretary put calls on hold just a thin wall away.

“You're looking different," he greeted, rising to his feet. They immediately pulled each other into a hug. There was no hesitation in Shaw's body language. He was so much more relaxed compared to shy and nervous wreck that he had been when they first met.

“Blame Killian," Shaw said with a little smile. “He gave me a little makeover after he drove me to work."

Joel tilted his head to the side curiously. “Wait. What happened to your car?"

Shaw returned the puzzled stare. “I don't have one."

The bull canted his head in the opposite direction. “Then how have you been getting around all this time? Getting to JACKED?"

“By bus or cab…?" Shaw was looking very confused. “Is that… is that a problem?" Then he dipped his head and that familiar blush touched his cheeks. “I know how to drive. Just I live in the middle of the city and everything is walking distance from a bus stop so…"

Huh… Now that I think about it, I don't think we've ever driven to his place before in his car… It was always either in mine or Amos'…

“I just had this image in my head of you driving a sedan or something," Joel admitted. Then he frowned. “Wait… you've been taking public transport and cabs in the middle of the night from the bar!? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

Shaw glanced away, grinning sheepishly. “To be fair, every time I've been out there I've always had someone to drive me."

That's very true.

Decided to play it casually, he leaned towards Shaw and nudged him with an elbow. “Oh you player. Who are these studs? Anyone I know?"

Clearly charmed, Shaw brushed past him, bumping shoulders as he headed to the line. “I bet you're pretty intimate with a few of them."

They each grabbed a tray and stood in the line beside one another. Being noon, it was the middle of the lunch rush which meant that the restaurant staff were working hard to power through all the customers but more and more customers just kept appearing. After thirty seconds, the two of them shuffled along the line.

“So give me the deets," Joel said casually. “Did Liam act nice before he went straight to the gaslighting? Did he look at Killian and assume you had moved on and get pissed? Did he actually apologize?"

There was a look of calculation on Shaw's face that didn't move until they moved down the line again. “He only apologized at the end when I called him out on it. Looking back, I hadn't actually realized that he was gaslighting me until Killian pointed it out afterwards. Maybe if I had known, I wouldn't reacted differently."

The bespectacled polar bear chuckled softly. “You know, I was really mad at him when he first appeared. I wanted to blow up at him but I kept that in check. Then when he started with his routine of blaming me for his actions, I actually eased up and started to believe what he was saying."

That doesn't sound very productive.

But he's smiling. So something broke him out of it.

“How'd you break the curse the wand between his legs cast on you?" Joel joked.

Shaw smirked and nudged him with an elbow. “Killian. He got up, picked up the order I grabbed, something I would never have ordered before." The bear gave him a little side-long glance. “Mexican hot chocolate with whipped cream and bits of tajin on the top."

That's what he likes to drink?

“Sidebar," Joel said, lifting a finger then turning it into a finger gun. “Was it good?"

“Terrible," said the bear, sticking out his tongue. “Tasted weird."

They were next and the little shrew at the other side of the counter asked them what they would like.

“I'll have the fried rice, some sweet and sour pork and the honey walnut shrimp please," announced Shaw.

The woman danced between the named food, gathered them on a sectioned plate and then handed it to Shaw over the glass dome over the display. Shaw took it happily as the shrew turned to Joel.

“I'll get the Lo Mein," Joel responded. “Stir fry vegetables and then the bourbon chicken." When given a look from Shaw, he said, “You've got to have your veggies and you know I'm a bartender."

Shaw rolled his eyes as Joel took his meal.

“So the terrible taste of hot chocolate made you realize that your ex was gaslighting you?" concluded the bull. “Got to say, I did not see that coming."

“It wasn't that," Shaw responded as they went up to the checkout counter. “That was a drink I ordered on a whim. Something I would never have ordered before. Made me think of the times that Liam basically forced me to drink a latte with a shot of caramel because he insisted that was the drink for me. But that hot chocolate was something I ordered. It was horrible, yeah, but it was my decision to order it and my mistake to make."

They paid for their food and went back to their table, sitting opposite to one another.

“I guess just had an epiphany at that moment," Shaw concluded. “It's okay to make mistakes. My relationship with Liam was one such mistake. Best I can do is to learn from it and move on."

A swell of pride filled Joel's chest as he began eating. Shaw had really stepped out of his shell and he was seeing the man the bear could be. A confident, intelligent but humble man who was wise enough to learn from his mistakes. A far flung contrast to the shy little nerd that had gotten so drunk that they basically stumbled onto each other's dicks the first night.

“How did he take it?" Joel asked.

There, Shaw's expression filled with uncertainty and he took a few bites from his meal before answering. “You know those scenes in comic books or movies where, for the briefest moments, the bad guy dropped their facade and you see who they really are behind the mask they're wearing?" He waved the plastic fork he was holding over his ears. “I think I saw that for a brief second when I told Liam that we couldn't be together but we can still stay friends. I think."

“You're not sure?"

“I don't know. I just… I just keep seeing his face and the way he snapped at Killian. I don't know if I'm just remembering it wrong or it really happened." Shaw shook his head. “Maybe I'm just too close to it. What do you think?"

Joel took a moment to digest everything he was told and to set aside his biases for the moment. “I wasn't there so I can't really judge but…"

Shaw leaned a little closer.

“… I think Liam is trying to control the narrative."

The polar bear reeled back a little. “Huh?"

“Take it from someone who has been around and is probably twenty years older than you," the bull said, holding up a hand. “From what you've told me of Liam, he wants to be the one in control. I think it's killing him that he was caught cheating. Something tells me that he was getting ready to break up but was just looking for the first excuse he could get to jump ship or at least to know that if he were to jump, he'd have somewhere safe to land. I think you pissed him off when you defined the terms of the relationship and he didn't."

“You sure he wasn't just pissed I turned him down when he wanted to get back together?"

“That's part of it. But ask yourself…" Joel held up a finger. “What would Liam gain from getting back together with you if he was so unhappy in the first place? Why would he go back to you if, as he claims, you drove him into cheating?"

Shaw's face became an unreadable mask. Joel immediately regretted pointing out the obvious attempts of the bear's ex to worm his way back into the relationship only to sabotage it on the inside. He had seen the tale far too many times. A handful of the guys he had slept with had similar stories - either being the gaslighter or the one being gaslit. It often took the full brunt of the JACKED founders to make these guys realize just what a mess they were.

I wonder if Cash is right… maybe I've become a revolving door for these kinds of people.

“You know… apart from a place to live and some stuff he left at my place, I don't think he would really have anything to lose," admitted Shaw. “I mean, he didn't even come back for his stuff in the two weeks that I had kicked him out… Where was he staying? Where was he getting his clothes?"

Joel hadn't even considered that. The more the layers were peeled apart, the more he saw o the rotten onion that was this Liam guy.

“Hate to say it, Shaw, but if you had gotten together my guess is that his heart wasn't in it. There probably would've been a period where the two of you were patching things up. A little honeymoon period then things would go back to the way they were. Maybe he'd be more vocal about the shit you weren't doing but he'd probably get more and more petty until he breaks up with you."

Joel lifted his free hand. “Now again, I haven't met the guy so I can't make judgments, but from what you've told me, it would not have ended well."

Shaw relaxed a little and leaned back in his seat. “Good thing I decided against getting back together, then. Maybe he'll decide to calm down a little while he's friendzoned a bit." The bear grinned a little. “Think he'd be jealous when he learns that I had sex with Killian just a couple of hours after we met?"

The bull's eyebrows shot up. A strange knot formed in his stomach and it certainly wasn't from the fast food heavy in salt that he was consuming.

“You… slept with Killian?"

Shaw glanced away and scratched his cheek. Now that Joel examined him closely, he could see signs that the bear had gotten laid the previous night. He was acting a little more confident. There was some stubble on his cheek. The different way he dressed that had that 'Killian' flair.

It was so obvious.

“Not… really," the bear admitted. “Neither of us were in each other though there was mutual penetration."

Now he was confused.

“Huh…?"

Grinning sheepishly, Shaw admitted, “Apparently someone left Benedict Cuminbatches at Killian's place."

Joel groaned, hanging his head. “Dorian…" He sighed as he lifted his head. “I hope you don't think that we're all a bunch of sex-crazed deviants. We don't fuck each other all the time. Most of us have jobs that have us working six days out of the week. Erick is the only one that doesn't and he mostly works nine-to-five on weekdays."

Though given the various combinations between us, someone, somewhere is having sex with someone at any given night…

“Trust me, it's not a bad thing!" Shaw laughed, waving his paws apologetically. “It was… actually really nice." The bear smiled, more to himself than to Joel. “I learned a lot about Killian. About how you guys hold your relationships with each other so strongly. I mean, when I first heard about how close you guys are, I was a little… weirded out but now…" He got a distant look on his face. “… I guess I got over my Splits."

Hearing the bear use the term the JACKED boys used amongst themselves was quite endearing. A little wave of relief washed over that knot of nerves in Joel's stomach but it wasn't enough to completely ease it.

“Hey, you're basically one of us!" he laughed.

“I guess," Shaw chuckled in return. “But I guess I just wanted to make things clear. Especially between us."

Joel's eyebrows rose. “Oh?"

“Yeah. I mean, I like you."

Oh no. Here we go. Remember, Joel, got to let him down.

This is your chance to define the relationship.

“I like all the guys at JACKED a lot," Shaw continued. “Not just physically either. You guys are great. And I want to hang out with you more."

God, I hope he doesn't cry or break down again.

“I just wanted to clear things up," Shaw concluded. “We were basically just hooking up, right? It wasn't a date? No emotions attached?"

Those words stunned the bull for a second. He had been standing in the middle of the highway in the middle of the night, the headlights of an eighteen wheeler coming straight at him and his life flashing before his eyes. Then, at the last second, the truck just zoomed by him. He had never been in danger but the fact that he had come so close to dying left him shell shocked.

When he regained control of his senses, he blew a dramatic raspberry and rolled his whole head. “Of course not! We met on Howler! You had just gotten out of a three-year-long relationship and just busted your ex's ass down yesterday! You are not in a good state to be forming emotional bridges."

Holy shit, I'm blaming him! I'm just as bad as Liam!

“And I like to cruise," Joel responded. He fished out his phone and showed the photograph of Blowhole2069 on it, being careful to avoid the history of messages. “I mean, check out this guy I matched with yesterday. Hot, right?"

Shaw leaned in and then his eyes widened. “Wow. He looks great!" Then he frowned. “Wait… so with marine mammals they don't have noses. They have blowholes… does that mean…?"

“Oh yeah," Joel said, grinning. “Their blowjobs are a different experience."

“You'll have to tell me all about it."

“Or sleep with Dorian! Just don't compare him to a dolphin or an orca." Joel leaned down, dropping his voice to a whisper. “He's a little sensitive about having to be careful when he gives head." Just for emphasis, he opened his mouth wide and shut his teeth together with a loud click. “Shark teeth."

Shaw grimaced in understanding and pulled away. “I see. Good to know."

A soft beeping came from the bear marketing agent's wrist and he quietly cursed. “Sorry, I've got to get back to work. Lunch break is almost over." He got up, taking his tray with him. “This was fun. We should catch up again."

“Sure," answered Joel, waving him off. “How about at the bar tonight?"

“Can't," sighed the bear. “It's the middle of the week and I nearly missed work today because I woke up on the Promenade. I think I need to make sure I sleep somewhere close to home tonight so I don't make that same mistake. Tomorrow or Friday?"

“Sure thing."

Then Shaw abruptly scrunched up his face and grimaced. “Wait… Sorry. Not tomorrow. I'm going to a real estate agent tomorrow after work."

Joel flicked his ears in curiosity. “A real estate agent? Why? Are you moving?"

Beaming brightly, Shaw said, “Well, since I don't have to carry Liam's dead weight around, I started considering getting a house! I'm just shopping right now. Checking out my options."

Wait a second. He's going to look into buying a house? Now? In this economy?

Timing also played a factor here. The fact that Shaw specifically mentioned Liam meant that the skunk's betrayal had actually played a part in this decision. That left a bitter taste in his muzzle. This was not a well-thought-out plan. Perhaps Shaw had always wanted to get a house but Liam's influence had been holding him back. A better explanation was that the bear was subconsciously looking for a new 'project' to prove something to himself.

Prove that he doesn't need Liam.

Making an investment that big after being an emotional wreck for two weeks is not a good idea no matter how you frame it.

But he couldn't just blurt out and say it. Over the past week, he had learned enough about Shaw to know that the bear did not necessarily respond to negative criticism well. Being told what to do would send him scurrying back into his shell and he didn't want to see his friend revert back to the nervous bundle of fur huddled under a blanket, illuminated by the glow of a videogame and ordering takeout.

An idea sprang into Joel's mind. “Huh… You know, one of us actually does own a house and isn't renting."

“Really?" asked Shaw, blinking a few times in surprise. “Who?"

Beaming brightly, Joel said, “Our head chef."

Shaw

Three o'clock meetings were Shaw's bane. Even before he went on his two-week hiatus, he absolutely hated three o'clock meetings especially if they came in on the same day without prior warning or a suitable heads-up. Just two hours before he was scheduled to leave and having some of that precious time taken up by tedious meetings when he could be finishing up much needed work exhausted him so much.

Still, it was his first week back and though news traveled that his break was not entirely restful, he was determined to remind his coworkers just how valuable and diligent he was.

So at five minutes to the hour on a Thursday afternoon, Shaw grabbed his laptop, a notebook and a pen and headed into Meeting Room 2 on his floor. When he entered the frosted glass meeting room, he was surprised to find not only his manager there but a handsome lion that was surprisingly quite formally dressed.

Cash…?

Though he had only seen the feline twice before, there was no mistaking that fiery red mane, that almost golden fur and the intimidating physique barely hidden behind the crisp navy blue, pin-striped suit. Compared to when the head chef of JACKED was dressed in an apron with a plastic window to show his chest and abs or when the feline was dressed as a partying jock-frat-bro, this was a wild U-turn.

“Hello," he greeted, padding up to where the two were seating on the long meeting table. “I'm Shaw Feng. A marketing analyst here."

Cash, putting on the perfect air of a prospective client, got up and held out his paw.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Feng." They shook paws, Cash's grip was firm but not at all vice-like. “I am Cash Mills. I co-own a bar not too far from here. It's called JACKED. I believe you've heard of it?"

Where is he going with this and how much am I supposed to know?

“I have," Shaw responded, forcing a smile while his eyebrows continued to portray confusion. “I visited it a couple of times."

His manager, a gray-haired equine, got up an waved them both to take a seat. “Which is why I thought you would be the perfect guy to take on his request."

Because I'm gay…?

Shaw fought down the urge to immediately be offended at being pigeonholed like that and recalled what Killian had said the previous night about people's perceptions. He had shared with the office that he had a boyfriend and was gay. Not everyone was going to use that against him or act maliciously. Assuming the worst would get him fired or worse - labeled as 'homosexual' being his only quality.

“What kind of request?" he asked, taking a seat opposite to Cash and on the same side as his manager.

Still appearing calm and professional, Cash said, “JACKED is more than a bar. It's the gay bar in the immediate vicinity of the city. There isn't another establishment like it that catered towards the LGBTQ+ community with a particular focus on gay men for miles around."

Kind of sad when you think about it considering how progressive California and Golden Cliffs are as a whole.

There were other LGBTQ+ establishments but they were mostly located outside of the city limits. An entire subdivision close to the Promenade was unofficially called the 'Gay District of Golden Cliffs' and that was where the majority of said businesses were centered. Workers in the city would have to drive thirty minutes to an hour - depending on traffic - to get there.

So JACKED really had a great market.

“Do you need help with your advertising?" Shaw asked. “To get the word out there?"

“Of sorts," Cash responded with a gleam in his eyes. “See, JACKED isn't just a bar. I like to think it also serves some quality food and entertainment. Unlike other bars which is just there to serve alcohol, it is a place to celebrate our identity. But it recently occurred to me that people just think of it as a place where manly men go to get drunk."

The equine manager stepped in. “And we here at Cliffside Marketing can help you get the word out on everything your establishment has to offer. What would you like to highlight?"

Props to the gray-haired stallion for not showing any sort of bigotry. Then again, he was born-and-raised in Golden Cliffs. The town was very progressive. Their mayor was a trans woman who was socially aware and even held live streams of her playing videogames with her constituents. There were people from all walks of life in the town though it tended to skew more towards the young and Liberally-minded.

“Let's start with the menu which I look after," Cash said. He reached into a very formal-looking black satchel bag and produced a print out of the bar's menu. It was one of those long pages that couldn't fit a standard size page and could block out someone's view if held upright. Having been to JACKED a few times, Shaw had to admit he had never seen the laminated, predominantly black page before.

Already he could see a few things he could improve.

“I'm open to changing menu items," said Cash. “But I'd also like to make sure that people know a kitchen exists and they can order high-quality food."

“I'm afraid we're not too well-versed on the culinary arts," admitted Shaw's manager. “But…" He exchanged glances with Shaw. “I think we can work with this."

Shaw nodded and ran a claw under the words 'bar menu' on the menu itself. “I've been to JACKED so I know that, generally, the lighting there is pretty dim. At least out near the tables. If you want to highlight the menu, I suggest printing it on a brighter paper. Maybe make it white? Black will get lost and people won't notice it."

Cash's eyebrows shot up as the manager nodded in agreement.

“I also suggest changing the name from 'bar' to 'gastro pub' or at least advertising it as such," added the equine. “You said you wanted to advertise the food and get the word out there that you also serve restaurant-quality meals. When people hear 'bar', they just think typical bar menu. Beer, nuts and maybe some fries. But looking at this menu, you're serving steaks, fish and things that really should be on a restaurant menu."

Also nodding in agreement, Shaw said, “Let's also remove these pictures of the food. That's very pre-2000's. Instead, let's add a QR code if people want to see samples. Probably slap some similar digital codes on the tables as well. JACKED can get pretty rowdy and if menus get lost, they can still use the codes to order."

“That's…" Cash began, his brow furrowing in surprise. “That's a really good idea… Huh."

Shaw flipped the menu, seeing the drinks there. “Create a separate menu for the drinks as well. Something smaller. Cleaner. Putting it on the same page as the food menu might muddle the message."

He continued to offer some initial advice, talking about font, color scheme and layout. Marketing strategies and advertising campaigns were also discussed. Apparently Killian had some celebrity contacts - which Shaw already knew but the manager did not - and they could organize a 'grand reopening' with them attending as they reforged JACKED into a gastro pub. That would certainly drum up some excitement.

Cash was clearly interested and though he originally dodged commitment citing that he needed to consult with his co-owners, he listened to the manager spouting off some rates. They agreed to meet again shortly if they were going ahead with the deal.

“Ah, look at the time," Cash exclaimed, closing off the meeting. “I should head to the bar as it's almost opening time."

From what Shaw recalled, this was Cash's day off. A good excuse to end the meeting, regardless. It was nearing five in the evening anyway. Almost time to clock off himself.

“Why don't you see Mr. Mills to his car, Shaw?" the manager asked. “In fact, take the rest of the day off. Maybe visit his bar and see what else we can help with."

Pushing it a little there, boss. But I'm not going to argue with an excuse to go to JACKED.

I mean, it is kind of my week-anniversary with the guys.

He recalled the moment last week when, barely piecing together an outfit and nervous as hell to hookup with some random guy, he had come into JACKED. His whole life had changed at that moment.

“Sure thing," he said, smiling at Cash. “Let me just pack up my things and I'll see you at the elevator, Mr. Mills."

Cash stood, shook both their hands and then headed out of the meeting room with Shaw in tow. A quick stop by his cubicle to collect his things, a farewell to Dorry and Ollie and he was in the elevator a few minutes later with with Cash by his side.

“So did you really want help with JACKED's marketing or did Joel set you up to ambush me?" Shaw asked.

The lion snickered behind a raised paw. “Naw. He told me that you were interested in real estate and since I'm the only one of us that actually has a house, I should stop by your work and talk to you about it. Homeownership is a dream from half-a-century ago and not that viable to everyone." The broad-shouldered lion shrugged, his tufted tail doing loops in the air. “But then I saw that you worked at a marketing firm and I couldn't resist the urge to see you in action."

Cash rested a paw on Shaw's back, not-so-subtly letting it slip down to the bear's ass. “I've got to admit." He gave that cheek a squeeze, making Shaw jump and blush. “I was really impressed."

Ding!

The elevator doors opened and Cash's paw stealthily made it back up to the small of Shaw's back, turning into a gentle push forward.

“Really? I'm glad." Shaw nodded an Marylin at the front desk as they turned towards the parking lot.

“Yeah. I mean that thing about the menu color? Never would've thought about that. Rebranding the place as a 'gastro pub' might be a bit much though. The guys might not like it."

“If you're serious about the food you put out, it might be the best way to attract attention to it. From what I've gathered so far, JACKED is a place where you drink and socialize. Not really where you sit down and eat."

Cash let out a little sigh as they exited the air-conditioned foyer and entered the milder temperature of the parking lot. The taller lion ruffled his mane a little before flicking the earring he wore on his left ear. “It's something that boys have told me over and over again. Open my own restaurant. Focus on the food. But I just can't."

“Why not?"

“Because then it'll separate me from the other guys. We opened JACKED together. We run it together. If I opened my own place, then I wouldn't be involved in the bar as much. That'd create a rift that'll only grow with time."

Shaw could not help but draw comparisons to his own relationship with Liam. A rift had certainly formed between him and his ex-boyfriend at the time though he wasn't sure if he had noticed it. Liam likely did. As time went on, that wound got infected, festered and grew until the inevitable happened.

I really don't want that happening with the guys.

“Then… how about opening it up for lunch and dinner?"

Cash gave him a side-long smile as they walked through the parking lot. The lion had retrieved his keys, ready to unlock his vehicle. “We've discussed it but it's not like the bar is really positioned in a place to cater to people for lunch. Besides, the cost benefits aren't really that high. Out here in the city, you'll probably get a lunch rush around noon to one and some early-birds at eleven or stragglers at two but after that…" He shrugged. “The cost of opening it up for a few hours versus the revenue we'd get wouldn't be worth it."

Shaw dug deep on his advertising and marketing knowledge. “Have you thought about catering for businesses?"

The lion stopped then held ups his keys. There was a soft 'beep-beep' from a nearby car. “Like…?"

“Like sayings you could deliver bulk meals to businesses for big meetings or something. Open up for lunch but at the same time, have someone deliver food to businesses around here for their high-powered meetings." Doing the calculations in his head, Shaw said, “Open up at ten to prepare any catering requests and feed anyone that comes in early. Then close the doors are two or three to the public while you prepare stuff for dinner. At five, after everyone is generally out of the office, open up again for dinner and start the 'bar' stuff at nine. Stay open until two in the morning like most bars."

Cash's brow furrowed. “Huh… You know, we generally closed the bar at around midnight on weekdays because we always assumed people wouldn't want to get drunk or hung over during the week. We are in the middle of the city, after all, and it's still a long commute to most suburban homes."

“But there are also people that work late nights," Shaw added. “Night shift people, guardsmen, maintenance staff. You're missing out on a whole demographic but closing so early."

Cash had a dreamy look on his face. “I do love a man in uniform." The lion shook the thought out of his mind, his whole body shaking from head to toe and his mane ruffling like autumn leaves. “I'll bring it up to the guys. It's a really good idea. We might have to hire some extra people though."

He grinned at Shaw. “Ever thought about jumping from marketing to working behind a bar?"

“I don't like alcohol, remember?" Shaw replied with a smirk.

“Oh then you can be our 'Virgin' bartender. You know what they say about white being analogous with purity."

Smirking back at the lion, he said, “Yeah well, cum is white and that shit is nasty." Kicking himself momentarily for channeling Amos, he glanced around the parking lot. “So where is your car."

“Right here."

The lion gestured towards a bright red, sleek, sports car with the roof down. Shaw's jaw immediately dropped open in surprise. He was no mechanic or revhead but he could appreciate a beautiful looking car when he could.

“Whoa…" he breathed.

Swaggering towards the driver's seat, Cash parked himself in and then patted the seat beside him. “What are you waiting for? Get in!"

A wave of confusion his Shaw. “Huh?"

“A certain nosy otter told me that you don't have a car. How do you think we'll get to my place out by the Cliffs?"

Another burst of confusion. “Your place?"

“Did no one tell you? It's my day off! We're not going to the bar unless you want to." Cash grinned at him. “And I promised Joel I'd tell you all about my house."

Of course you did.

More like Joel made you promise.

With a shrug, Shaw set his office bag in the back of the car and jumped into the passenger seat. “Please tell me you're not one of those people that likes to rev his engines, drive fifty miles over the speed limit and weave through traffic."

“Please, my pure, virgin cola," the lion said, patting his thigh affectionately. “We're in the middle of the city. The speed limit is twenty miles at most whether you like it or not." He threw his paw into the air as they drove out of the parking lot and into the warm, afternoon air and fresh breeze of Northern California.

“Besides, how can you enjoy life if you're rushing through it!"

Shaw couldn't help but laugh and threw his own paws - albeit in a more subdued gesture - into the air.

?

?

Joel

He should be awake by now.

It was around eleven in the morning and Joel was already up and running. He had just finished his own workout routine and had completed his cold shower when the conversation with Shaw the previous day invaded his thoughts. A vague promise had been made as he was parting with the cute polar bear to have Cash walk him through the trials of homeownership.

At around this time, the head chef of JACKED should be well awake unless he was cuddled up around someone. The lion was a cuddler.

Joel fished out his phone as he polished his horns with a brush.

'Hey Cash, you free today?'

He had set down the phone expecting at least a few minutes before the feline got back to him. Much to his surprise, he had barely placed it on the bathroom sink when it pinged at him.

'Yeah. It's my day off. Why? Got something fun in mind?'

Smiling a little to himself, Joel wondered if he could squeeze in a quick session with his friend before heading to work.

Naw. Cash might want to meet up with Shaw for lunch. Not enough time for that. Maybe after.

'Not for me. But I may have pimped you out.'

He was sent an animated emoji of a lion pinching the bridge between his eyes in exasperation.

'What did you do?' demanded Cash after a few seconds.

'Nothing bad, I swear. Just that Shaw told me yesterday that he was looking to buy a house now that he doesn't have to pay for his mooching ex.'

'A house? Really? In this economy? In California?'

Joel couldn't help rolling his own eyes. Even out here in a relatively obscure town made popular only by equally obscure celebrities, property values were insane. It was little wonder that five out of the six owners of JACKED - the only gay bar in the middle of the city proper - were renting instead of owning their own places.

Bet it'd give my old man an aneurysm if he thought I'd actually put any effort into buying property.

Bartholomew Rockham's would likely have popped a hard-on for his son following the elder bull's traditional definition of success. Of course this would quickly be followed by a spray of spit and vitriol as the aging bovine would have spat warnings at Joel not to turn the home into a brothel.

'That's what I thought when he brought it up,' answered Joel via text. 'Since you're the only one of us that actually owns a house, I was thinking you might go over and talk to him?'

Joel finished polishing his horns and stepped out of his bathroom, completely naked. He slumped down on his bed, one arm behind his head and his phone in his hand, waiting for Cash's response.

The wait was not long.

'I've got the time. Sounds to me like the cola is looking to jump into another project to keep his mind off his ex.'

Certainly a possibility. Shaw was smarter than that, however. Purchasing a house was probably on his mind for a long time. Having the gaslighting Liam burdening him while making him fear change likely contributed to little progress made in that front.

If he recalled the bear's story, he came from a liberal but close-knit Asian family. Buying a house was likely rooted in his upbringing. Like Joel, having land was a measure of success held by his parents.

'Maybe. Talk some sense into him, would ya?'

'Sure. Got some questions first.'

'Fire away.'

Cash was seen typing for a long moment. 'Has he actually started looking?'

Again recalling their previous conversation, Joel responded with, 'Apparently he's got an appointment tomorrow with a real estate agent.'

'Urgh. Agents. They're pushy and once they smell someone with an ounce of desperation they swarm like sharks to blood. Does he know where he wants to live?'

'No idea. I think it's still pretty fresh on his mind.'

'Alright. Where does he work?'

Joel had to do a little bit of research. Shaw mentioned that he worked in a marketing firm. A quick scan of the bear's social media pinpointed his current place of employment as Cliffside Marketing. It didn't take too long to find the office location which he sent over to Cash.

'Thanks. I think I've got enough to go on. Will let you know how I go.'

'Thanks, Cash,' Joel texted, smiling to himself. 'Fuck him silly if you have to.'

The lion didn't respond and he guessed that was the end of the conversation. Joel set down his phone and crossed his arms behind his head, content with just resting on his bed naked for the moment. He let his mind wander and drift in emptiness for a moment before wondering what he would do for the rest of the day before it was time to go to work.

Chore day was usually on his days off. Maybe he could go research some more drinks that he could potentially make for Shaw. Playing some games was his usual go-to now that he had finished his workout.

Then his phone began to vibrate.

Cash had another question.

Only it wasn't a text message. It was a call. A call from Golden Cliff Hospital.

His mind went blank again but for an entirely different reason. He had hit the 'accept' button and brought the phone to his ear before his mind had even caught up with what he was doing.

“Hello?"

“Hello?" came a feminine voice from the other end. “Is this Mr. Joel Rockham?"

“Yes, speaking."

“I'm calling on behalf of Golden Cliff Hospital. This is concerning your father."

A loud thumping was reverberating through his ears, cutting between each of the nurse's words. It annoyed him. That is, until he realized it was the sound of his own heartbeat.

Please tell me the asshole just abused a doctor or groped a nurse…

“He slipped into a coma earlier this morning. The doctors were able to bring him out of it and he's doing well. Recovering. We thought you should know."

Joel was sitting upright and moving before the words, “I'll be right there" were out of his muzzle. He hung up and was racing across his apartment, throwing on clothes that wouldn't send him father into another coma before his mind could even comprehend all the information that he had just been handed.

Why am I running?

Dressed in slacks, a collared shirt and struggling to slip on a blazer, the bull charged out of his apartment, keys in hand. Pigs flying was an expression to describe the impossible happening and yet in that moment, a bull flew down the stairs of his apartment complex just to get to the parking garage.

Why do I even care about that ass?

His truck roared to life, like it was sensing his desperation. Within moments, he was zooming down the street and driving like a lunatic straight to the hospital. Lucky that no cops saw him or he would likely have been pulled over. Probably something his father would hold over him.

The nurse said he was fine.

So why am I even going to see him?

The twenty minutes it took to roar down the interstate and through toll roads - which he always active avoided except in emergencies - was agonizing. He wrestled with his two minds.

One half told him that he was being irrational; that he should just turn around, go back to his apartment and drown this event in some hard liquor. His dad was fine. The old man could wait until his usual Saturday visit.

The other half reminded him that, despite everything, Bart Rockham was still his father. The man had tried to provide for him as best as he could even though he was a constant source of homophobic abuse.

In the end, the former won out and he found himself parking in the hospital lot and racing through the sterile, white halls to Room 322.

“Dad!" he cried, bounding over to where his withered father lay next to the window. The old bull looked ever worse than before. There were heavy bags under his bloodshot eyes and every breath he took was like listening to sandpaper being scraped against steel wool.

“Boy…" rasped Bart, his milky eyes unfocused but still turning towards him. “… Joel…"

Joel knelt beside his dad, grabbing the bull's hand gently. “I'm here, dad. I'm here."

For a moment, Bart's eyes welled up with tears… then he tore his hand away from Joel's grip with surprising strength.

“Get your fag-touching fingers off me. I don't want the stink of any man you've fingered on me when I meet your mother again."

Aaaaaand there he is again.

Joel ran a hand down his muzzle and got up again. It took all his strength not to turn around there and then and just leave.

“Dad, you need to relax," he said evenly. “The doctors said you were in a coma this morning."

“I was fucking sleeping!" snarled Bart Rockham. “You stay asleep for a couple of hours after sunrise and they start calling it a 'coma'! Fucking liberal pussies!"

His father's venom and vitriol was a miasma in the hospital that darkened the clean, white sheets, polished porcelain floors and stained the velvety, alabaster curtains. Joel felt his mood darkening and the disgust in his stomach growing.

“They know what they're doing. You need to trust them."

“I don't trust any fucking cock-sucking doctor in this cock-sucking state!" snarled Bart. “I'm a goddamn veteran! Send me to Texas or some shit and have real doctors take care of me! Or just stick me in the ground and let me die! God knows this fucking country needs some more real American blood on its soil instead of these fucking immigrants!"

Taking a deep breath, Joel mentally told himself to be patient and not let his father's ranting get to him. At this point, eh was sure his dad was just spouting this nonsense just to be heard and to get a reaction from someone. He had to wonder if Bart Rockham hadn't actually slipped into a coma and the nurse had just called Joel over to bear the brunt of their abrasive patient's ire for a little while.

“You're really fired up today," Joel observed through a forced grin. “Maybe these doctors are actually doing something right and bringing you back to the path of recovery."

Strangely, the fire in his dad's eyes faded and he rested back into his bed. “If you believe that, then you're a bigger fucking idiot than I thought."

His smile faded. “What do you mean?"

Bart tilted his head away from him, looking out the window. “Don't go believing that some 'miracle' will make me better. I'm dying. Ain't nothing going to change that. These doctors are just too fucking stupid and too much of a pussy to let a man die in peace."

“Dad…" Joel croaked, surprising even himself with his emotion. He coughed and straightened. “What happened to not dying until I give you a grandson?"

“God already abandoned you when you turned your back on him and turned onto a slut for other men," Bart grumbled though the fight in his voice was incredibly weak. His words were more a sign of resignation than an insult or accusation. “Don't see why I should still hold out for you when He is already calling me."

Joel's hands tightened on his lap. This was a new side of his father that he was not prepared for. All his life, Bartholomew Rockham had been a fighter and a soldier while being a father second. The earliest memory he had of the big bull was him looming over him and shouting. What Bart was shouting about wasn't important. He just remembered his father shouting.

To see him in this defeated state, to have given up all of the sudden… It hit him in a way that felt like someone had punched his gut and twisted their fist so now his intestines were knotted and tangled.

“H - Hey," he stammered. “Remember that guy I told you about last time I was here?"

“The pussy that can't handle his alcohol? What about him?"

“He kind of settled things with the ex that cheated on him. They were in a three-year relationship and the bastard cheating on him."

If there was one thing that Bart Rockham couldn't stand, it was cheating. All of his divorces had been because his then-wife had cheated on him while he was being deployed. They were justified in many ways. Bart was not the kindest man in the world but he was loyal.

The old bull turned his gaze back towards Joel. “Did he punch the asshole? Kick his nuts?"

“No…" Joel said, smiling a little. “Shaw met up with the guy. The asshole actually tried to gaslight Shaw into making him think that he had to cheat because Shaw was being neglectful."

“Fucker," sneered Bart. “Guess doesn't matter if you've got a pussy or a cock between your legs. Anyone can use that excuse."

Joel had a suspicion that scenario would resonate with his father. Similar excuses had been used by his ex-wives especially since they often wouldn't see Bart for months on end.

“I guess so," sighed the younger bull. “But Shaw approached it in a really mature way. No yelling. No biting. No scratching. Told the guy that they should just be friends." Joel snickered. “That had to be worst thing you could tell an ex that was trying to blame you for their cheating while also trying to get back together."

“I would've kicked his nuts," grunted Bart.

“Yeah," Joel said, a little bit of affection creeping into his voice. “I'm sure you would have, dad." He reached out and hesitated, his hand hovering over his father's.

To his surprise, Bart actually reached out and grabbed his hand, showing surprising strength. The bull's gaze was fixated on him firmly.

“You tell that boy that people like that are like a bullet covered in shit," growled the weakened bovine. “You can get the bullet out, you can stitch it up but you don't know what is eating you up inside until it's too late."

With his other hand, Bart pointed directly at Joel. “You tell him to let go of that fucker. Don't be so goddamn obsessed with making everyone like him. He's going to make enemies. He's going to have people that hate him for no reason."

Bart wave a hand dismissively towards the window. “Fuck them. Fuck them all. Have the balls to cut off the infected shit and move on. Let them think they've claimed some of your shit but move on. Holding onto them is just going to give them the power to drag you down with their shit."

His father released his hand and slumped into his bed, seemingly with renewed vigor. “Next thing you know, the fucker is at your doorstep asking you to support a child that isn't even yours because you were together once. Or to look after their mother because they're too busy going off being fucked in Hawaii."

“Are… are we still talking about Shaw here…?"

“Or!" shouted Bart, his eyes filled with fury. “Or trying to drag your name through the mud and ruin your career just because she couldn't get promoted!"

Joel sighed inwardly but was glad that his father was showing some signs of energy and fight again. As exasperating as it was to listen to his father ran, he was terrified of seeing his Bart Rockham just… surrender.

“Okay, dad," he sighed, rising to his feet and gently patting his father's shoulder. This time, Bart didn't pull away. “I'll see you this weekend, okay? Same time as usual."

“Fine," spat Bart. “Bring more tulips. Reminds me of your mother. The only good woman in my life. And that includes you."

He couldn't resist one last shot at me.

He gave his father a smile and one more pat before turning to leave. “Alright, dad. I'll bring you more flowers in a couple of days. Be back in a jiffy."

Bart snorted and sounded like he was going to spit at him.

“I always hated that fucking saying."

Of course you do, dad.

He left Room 322, with a little smile on his lips.

“Of course you do," he repeated aloud. Running a hand down his face, a wave of exhaustion hit him. The time was a little around three in the afternoon. He had been in the hospital for a while.

“Fuck…" the bull groaned. “I need a drink."

Shaw

Cash's home was a large, modern beach front property that sat in the shadow of the cliffs that gave Golden Cliffs its actual name. It was one of many similar properties positioned on stilts along the road with large gaps between each home. It had an impressive four floors - excluding the ground floor 'garage' which was really just an open-air parking spot where Cash kept a few tools.

Shaw had to mount a flight of stairs to get to the actual first floor which was made of a short atrium where he could hang his coats in closets and guests could slip on guest slippers - being so close to the beach meant people tracked sand and Cash had these slippers set out to avoid that. The floor was dominated by a wide sun room that faced the ocean.

The second floor was where the kitchen and dining area sat. Like the first floor, there were floor-to-ceiling windows that provided a clear view of the beach and the ocean beyond. There was a short washroom as well as a balcony area where Cash had set up a hot tub. On the third floor were four separate bedrooms and one shared bathroom amongst them. A small 'common area' with a few couches facing the ocean was present.

The top most floor was where the master bedroom sat. It a smaller floor than the others by about a third but it had it's own little balcony that provided the best view in the house as it wrapped around the the eastern and northern side of the beach house, offering views of the ocean and the cliffs.

“This place must have cost a fortune!" Shaw exclaimed, leaning against the corner of the balcony right between the views of the ocean and cliffs. “How can you afford this?"

Cash leaned casually against the railings of the top floor. “I guess Joel or the others didn't tell you about me, huh?"

Shaw shook his head to indicate a negative.

Sighing softly, the lion looked towards the ocean. “My name isn't actually Cash Mills." He threw a sidelong glance at Shaw. “It's Geoffry Blake."

Blake…? Fairly common name unless…

“As in the Blakes?" the polar bear asked. “The Billionaire Blakes?"

Cash gave him a nod and a slight lift of his eyebrows. “That's them."

Oh shit… I'm in the presence of a billionaire!

But wait… why is he slumming it with us?

“The Blakes are notoriously conservative," Cash explained. “They donate millions to Republican senators and the RNC every year. They have their finger in everything that conservatives usually known for from the military, oil and trade. They all have this idea of a traditional 'nuclear family'."

Shaw's eyebrows lifted. “Oh…"

“Yeah…" sighed the lion, allowing his arms to dangle over the railings. “Took me a long while to realize that I was gay. I always had an inkling but it wasn't until I went to college and met the guys that I actually confirmed it. It was in my senior year that I finally came out to my parents."

Cash straightened and let out a bitter chuckle. “It was the same old song and dance like you'd get from teen novels or angsty posts on Reddit. They were angry. Couldn't believe this was happening to them. I think I was actually disowned five times in the span of that one conversation." He gave Shaw a little smile. “I was lucky though. I had five other guys that had my back. One of them was much older than me and had been around."

“Joel."

“Right. Our friendly bartender talked to me and actually gave me the courage to confront my parents again. They had an image to protect. I saw them for what they were and didn't want anything to do with them. The Blakes are pretty influential so people would eventually come looking for me. So, we came up with a plan."

Cash explained that through a series of events and some careful manipulation of the narrative, all attention on the Blakes started going to the other members of the family and Geoffry Blake slowly faded into the background in the course of a year. Every time Geoffry was mentioned, the Blakes would just throw up a distraction campaign to pull people's attention elsewhere. Eventually, the media just got tired of any story involving the middle son of the Blakes not garnering any attention and forgot him.

“In the meantime, I legally changed my name to 'Cash Mills'." The feline grinned to himself. “I had a whole year to rework my personality. To be someone I wanted to be. To get to that point that when I looked in the mirror, I saw myself and not a stranger." He turned around, leaning his back against the railings. “Wanna know the funny part?"

“What?" Shaw asked.

“'Cash Mills' is actually a play on 'Cash Millions'. Because my parents actually sent me a fairly beefy lump sum just to shut me up and keep me from saying anything about the Blakes or that I am Geoffry Blake to the public."

An non-disclosure agreement. The Blakes had slapped their own son with a non-disclosure agreement, legally had his name changed and wiped him from the interest of the media. In effect, Geoffry Blake no longer existed.

“It can't be that simple to disappear," Shaw said.

“Oh trust me, it isn't. Sometimes some reporter digs up something or another but my family has since hired actors to play my part."

The image of the guys from JACKED being these down-to-earth, drama-free, wizened men who knew everything suddenly was thrown out the window to drown in an ocean. What shocked Shaw the most was just how blase Cash - AKA Geoffrey Blake - was about his entire situation. It honestly sounded like something from a romantic comedy produced in the 90's or late 2000's.

What, is Cash going to find 'the one' and a point of contention is going to be his family and the fortune he comes from?

“Wait…" Shaw began. “So you've been completely cut off?" He waved a paw in the direction of the house. “Then what's all this?"

Cash chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair and mane. “A really bad investment from a younger era." He turned his eyes towards Shaw with a little smile on his muzzle. “See, when my family dumped with the the cash to shut me up, I had this image in my head of buying a place where me and the five other guys that I fell in love with could live together. Our own little sanctuary against the world and a giant 'fuck you' to my parents."

The lion regarded his bedroom through the glass sliding door. “I found this place and tried my best to convince the guys. Told them, over all, we'd be saving so much money because we wouldn't individually be paying rent, the place is great, it's right next to the beach and all that stuff."

All good points. It was a dream house. Befitting a millionaire.

“Why didn't they go for it?" he asked.

“You'll have to ask each of them," Cash said, lowering his head but with a smirk on his muzzle. “What I remember is that Erick pointed out how the commute would be terrible. It is. Dorian didn't want to feel like he owed me all the time for buying the place. And Amos hates the sand."

Shaw canted his ears and the lion noticed.

“He's a dragon, remember? Sand gets between his scales and it irritates the skin beneath. It's really hard to get it off."

“Then why is he living here of all places?"

“That's his story to tell," Cash answered with a smile. “But we all have our baggage, our burdens. This is one of my bigger ones."

You mean the fact that you're lying about your identity and have an ultra-rich family isn't one of your 'bigger ones'?

Cash sucked in air through clenched teeth and let it out slowly. “The thing is, I don't remember who said it, but they were right about keeping up with this place. It's fancy, it's big and it's conveniently placed but maintaining it is a pain in my ass. There are five bedrooms. Cleaning it all takes most of the day! Sand gets everywhere somehow. The salt water also degrades metal really quickly so I have to get the exterior inspected for any rust in any exposed nails or even the metal in the walls. It uses a lot of power to keep the whole place cool…" He pointed upwards. “Hot air rises and this place is basically five floors high. My bedroom gets really hot and I am not a desert lion. It gets really hot during the day because it faces the sunrise but the heat lingers even past sunset."

Whoa… I never thought about all that…

“Oh and let's not forget I'm not much of a surfer." Cash turned and gestured out to the beach. “This place was build to be frat house or a holiday home. People come in groups, maybe families and they stay a few days then leave. Maybe rent it out to someone to make some extra cash. Not to live in it the entire time."

“But you paid it off entirely, right? It's yours."

“Yeah and what I had left went into starting up JACKED," Cash responded. “That kind of leaves me completely reliant on my income at the bar. Which is why I want to make sure it succeeds." The lion sighed, leaning against the railings again with his butt sticking out a little. “Still, despite all my regrets, I look at this place and remember how young and stupid I was. How I should have listened to the five guys who love me and didn't do something as stupidly impulsive as buy this house out of spite."

“You bought it to spite the guys?"

“To spite my parents," replied Cash with a little bob of his head. “I was hot off their decision to disown and replace me. I wanted to show them I could be successful with how I chose my life. Back then, my definition of success was living just as opulently as them. That sure showed me." Cash snickered a little. “Sometimes I genuinely think that they gave me all that money knowing that I would probably make some stupid decisions with it and end up ruining myself."

Then the beefy lion straightened, lifting his head. “Well, I showed them. I changed how I wanted to be successful. And here I am now."

A tingle crept through Shaw's chest and he couldn't help but smile as the wind gently picked up and blew Cash's crimson mane in a dramatic fashion. Despite his flaws and sordid back story, Cash was happy. The lion didn't need the approval of anyone else except for those people that he genuinely cared about. He also didn't need to make the people he didn't like miserable to be successful.

I guess that begs the question… Do I want to buy a house because it's right for me or… is it just to prove to myself that Liam was holding me back?

“So," Cash said, turning back to him. “Still thinking about purchasing a house here in Golden Cliffs?"

“I'm having doubts," Shaw admitted. He checked his phone and saw a few messages from the realtor he was supposed to mean. Typing out a quick apology and using work as an excuse, he said, “I mean, I was meant to meet a real estate agent today but I guess I blew him off to get some insight from an actual homeowner."

He tucked his phone away and let out a little sigh. “I guess I was just itching to have something to my name, you know?" Digging deep, he said, “Maybe because I just threw away a three-year relationship, I was looking for a path forward, an investment that would replace what I lost with Liam."

“Property is probably just as fickle as a relationship," Cash said, gently patting his back with large, warm paws. “Market values change, different parts can break down and you never know what will happen with the weather. Especially here in California. You're right though, it's an investment. You put years into it. So just like a relationship, you've got to be sure you're going to go in on it before you take that plunge. Do it for the right reasons not because someone told you to."

Or make sure I do it not because of someone else.

It's for me.

“Thanks Cash," he said, smiling at the lion. “This really helped."

The lion beamed back. “Anytime."

Deciding to break away from the topic, Shaw said, “So do you guys have… like parties over here."

“So you haven't heard of the JACKED Jerk-Off then?" Cash replied, his smile turning into a predatory grin.

“No…?"

Laughing brightly, Cash gestured that they return indoors as, with the sun setting behind them, it was getting very dark. Apparently the JACKED Jerk-Off was an annual orgy that was held right here in Cash's home. Each of the JACKED guys reached out to their contacts on one of the weekends, they closed the bar and they had a no-holds-bared sexual experience right here in the four-floor home by the beach. The six guys had to all put in some of their pay to prepare for it beforehand and then clean the home afterwards.

But it was an event that sent ripples throughout the gay community - or at least the regulars at the bar.

“Why have I never heard of it before…?" Shaw mumbled as they made their way down to the second floor.

“I wouldn't say it's an exclusive event," Cash said with a shrug. “But it's invite-only. We generally send it out to our regulars at the bar and our previous partners."

“Your exes?"

The lion moved behind the polished, marble kitchen counter and towards his stainless steel refrigerator, tail doing loops in the air as he examined what he had. “You could say that. We don't really have any exes. At least not in recent history. We have partners."

“You mean because you six are in a relationship?"

Cash emerged from the fridge carrying two large steaks. “Yep. Each of the guys has their own way of doing things, of course. I guess I'm kind of prudish. I don't like inviting people over to my place because they tend to form opinions about my wealth and if they dig deep enough, they might exhume Geoffry Blake."

Should I consider myself lucky then?

“But we do form emotional connections," continued the feline as he grabbed some vegetables and a meat tenderizer. He began hammering the meat on a cutting board as he spoke. “I trust those guys that end up learning about my past but I don't necessarily sleep with all of them. They might find Dorian or Killian to be more to their tastes. At the same time, there might be someone that gets my dick hard that Amos or Erick knows. We learn about each other, both physically and emotionally, but marriage of exclusivity has never been a thing for me."

“Why not?" Shaw asked.

The lion shrugged as he began drizzling some salt and pepper onto the steaks before flipping them over and repeating the process. “Genetics, maybe? I'm a male lion. I fuck around with a lot of people." He paused a second and tapped his chin. “I guess each of the guys has their own reason for not really committing to one person. Not that it's a bad thing."

Shaw leaned down on the counter with a little smile. “I dunno, you're pretty much committed to five guys already."

Cash smirked at him as he turned and turned on the electric stove. “Yeah but no state or priest is ever going to officiate that wedding."

“Have you ever thought of expanding your circle of JACKED to include anyone else?"

The lion threw him a knowing smirk over his shoulder. “Why? You interested? I've got an application form on my desk at the bar."

Shaw rolled his eyes and let out a sarcastic laugh. “I'm going to have to think about it. You guys may have your baggage but it seems like you've all got it under control. I've still got Liam to worry about."

Cash placed a pan onto the stove which masked the grimace he made. “Killian told me about what happened. Don't mean to be racist but that skunk stinks."

“Yeah. I'm wondering if I should have just cut contact with him there and then instead of offering friendship."

“Regret is a heavy thing. You can't take back what you've done. Even if you apologize, you're never going to go back in time and undo what happened."

Shaw glanced downwards briefly.

Yeah… Even if Liam did mean his apology and was genuinely regretful for what he did, it won't change the fact that he cheated.

I can't trust me after all that.

“Good on you for not burning that bridge, though," Cash said, flipping the steak in the pan. The smell of sizzling meat filled the air. As the lion added a bit of butter and rosemary into the pat, the aroma was making Shaw's muzzle water. “The guys are more than willing to help you out. So am I. So if you need anything, any help with dealing with your ex, between the six of us, we've got plenty of baggage and experience to bail you out if you need it."

The gesture was greatly appreciated. Since this was new territory for him, Shaw wasn't sure exactly where to proceed. The unknown was scary. Even if he had accepted that not knowing was a perfectly good answer, he was still nervous about what Liam would do.

“I appreciate that." He laughed a little and finally sat down on one of the counter stools. “So I'm guessing this whole0 scaring me out of buying a house was one of the ways you guys could help me, huh?"

“Joel's idea, not mine." Cash canted an ear behind him and used that to lead him to turn around and start chopping up some vegetables. “I bitch and moan enough about this place and the other guys give me enough hell for that decision that it was a a pretty obvious thing to do once you started talking about buying a house."

A little knot formed in Shaw's throat. “Why didn't he just tell me?"

The lion shrugged his broad shoulders and tossed the greens into a bowl. “Would you have taken his word for it?"

“Of course! I trust everything he tells me!" When he got a pointed stare from the lion, Shaw doubled down. “Except maybe his choice of drinks. He still hasn't found my drink."

Cash grabbed some oil, seasonings and what looked like some sort of red fruit juice. From the smell, it was pomegranate. “You'll have to ask him directly then. If I were to guess, he valued my expertise in the topic and knew it'd probably have a bigger impact if it came straight from me instead of him telling you my troubles second hand."

The message was indeed much stronger since it came from Cash. They would never know if it would have just as much as a punch if Joel had just told him over lunch or text that buying house was probably a bad idea. Knowing that Cash had bought this place out of spite of his parents resonated with Shaw as well.

I only started thinking about it seriously when Liam left me…

Liam's absence left a shadow in his life. Now that he had acknowledge it and their relationship status, the rift between them seemed to be much bigger and the hole in his life ached in a different way. As with anyone else's reaction to a large, gaping hole, he was eager to fill it.

Owning land would have done the trick… even if it would have left a bigger hole in his savings.

“Guess Joel isn't such a bad bartender after all, huh?" Shaw chuckled.

“No one ever said he was."

There was a sudden buzzing noise and Cash turned towards the front door, ears canted forward.

Shaw followed his gaze and slipped out of the stool. “Oh shit… You think he heard us?"

Cash waved him back into his seat. “Come on. What are the odds that it'd be our Joel Rockham at my door at this hour? It's probably a door-to-door salesman or someone delivering something that needs my signature."

“You're expecting a delivery?"

The lion just offered a shrug and headed down towards the front door. Shaw decided to follow him. One floor down and the buzzing came again.

“I'm coming!" Cash shouted. He was just about to reach the door when a voice erupted from the other side.

“Come on!" shouted Joel. “I'm freezing my nuts out here."

Both men stopped and stared at each other. Shaw mouthed 'what-the-fuck' and Cash just shrugged helplessly.

“Joel?" replied the lion, pulling the door open. “What are you doing here?"

Joel held up two shopping bags. There was no mistaking the neon-green bottles that were Mountain Dew's preferred packaging.

“You two are having dinner together and your friendly neighborhood bartender is here to to serve up the drinks!" Joel exclaimed brightly, holding up both bags.

Shaw searched for any signs of inebriation in the bull but found none. He was clearly in control. So this interruption was intentional. Then again, he couldn't be too mad. It was Joel's machinations that had talked him down the ledge of home ownership in California after all.

“So you're going to get me drunk again?" Shaw challenged, arms folded.

“Nope!" exclaimed Joel, striding in and kicking off his shoes. “Mark the day, Shaw! This is the day that I'm going to make a drink you fucking love!"

Shaw exchanged glances with Cash.

The lion just shrugged. “I'm going to need to bring out another steak."

?

?

?

?

?

Joel

Excitement ran through Joel's veins as he quickly set up his ingredients on the kitchen counter. He had to run back home and grab his bartending kit before going on a quick shopping run for some Mountain Dew. The soda wasn't exactly something he kept on stock at his place at all times. Armed with his tools and brews, he entered the kitchen to the aroma of Cash's amazing cooking and went to work.

Cash fished out another steak and prepared it while he worked.

It didn't take long to create his first mix. Since Cash's place was where they held their usual JACKED Jack-Off, the lion kept a healthy stock of fine glasses. Of course, there was a huge supply of red plastic cups but the glass was just as important as the brew itself. Same with the ice.

He grabbed two stout glasses and fished out a small portable cooler from the bags he had brought. Using a pair of special tongs, he fished out a perfectly spherical, crystal clear shard of ice which he placed into the glass. Using a stirrer, he quickly gave the ice ball a spin, allowing it to cool the glass entirely. Then he was careful to pour out any of the water that had melted which wasn't much since the ice was specially crafted and frozen to stay cool and solid for as long as possible.

Once he was satisfied with the temperature of the glass, he poured a little shot of vodka into the glass. Again, he gave it a quick stir to keep the temperature consistent. At the same time, Cash was just cracking an egg. He timed opening the bottles of Mountain Dew with the crisp noise of the lion splitting the egg whites from the egg yolks in a bowl. He pour the soda into the glass until just a little before the lip of the glass.

“Almost done," he announced, sticking out his tongue in anticipation. Taking a fresh lime he had purchased, he cut off a wedge and speared it around the edge of the glass. He ran the wedge around the lip of the glass before squeezing the remaining juices into the drink itself. The mostly spent wedge went back into the cocktail to further infuse its crisp, clean flavor. As a final garnish, Joel took a few sprigs of mint and placed it into the brew.

“And here we go!" he exclaimed, pushing the drink triumphantly towards Shaw with the other glass going to Cash. “A Mountain Dew Moscow Mule!"

Shaw looked dubious as he picked up the glass. The bear gave it a little sniff then glanced over to Cash who was much less timid. The tall lion took a sip from the glass while his other paw was stirring something in a pot.

“Wow," exclaimed the feline, smacking his lips. “That's really refreshing."

Encouraged by this, Shaw took his typical little sip from the drink.

This is it!

Joel leaned forward in anticipation.

Here it comes!

Shaw smacked his lips… and went in for another sip.

He likes it!

Then the bear frowned a little and set down the glass, barely having consumed any of it.

“It's okay."

What!?

“Care to elaborate?" Joel asked, forcing a smile.

Shaw did his typical cute blush, rendering Joel incapable of staying mad at him. The bear held up his paws and shook both them and his head vigorously. “Don't get me wrong! It's really good! Better than any of the drinks you've served me before! Just…"

“Just…?" Joel repeated, his teeth gnashing so close together he could feel his gums starting to quake.

“… Just takes like Mountain Dew with a little bit of mint. That's all."

“Graaaaaaah!" Joel cried, throwing his head back and clutching his horns in frustration. “I thought you didn't like the taste of alcohol so I made sure the ratios were more towards the soda! Why is that wrong!?"

“I'm sorry!" said Shaw, gently reaching for him. “It's a step in the right direction. Just… I don't think I'd call it my drink, you know? I mean, it kind of feels like I can get the same result if I just poured myself some soda and threw a couple sprigs of mint in it."

Cash shrugged in agreement. “He is right, you know. Aren't Moscow Mules typically served with ginger ale? That's a much lighter flavor to Mountain Dew and carried the vodka and other flavors a little more. The Dew kind of overpowers everything."

Joel threw a furious look at his friend and pointed an accusatory finger at him. “I don't want to hear it, Chef! You stick to your frying and umami and I'll stick to my booze and bartending!"

Frustration from failing to pinpoint Shaw's drink of choice bubbled to the surface. This was compounded by his father's earlier statements. An inferno of fury burst to the surface and he slammed both his fists into the counter, causing both Shaw and Cash to jump back in surprise.

The blow was strong enough, however, to knock down the open bottle of Mountain Dew sitting right next to him. It topped to the ground and - physics being that they were - crashed into the floor and bounced. Suddenly, there was a rogue bottle of soda jumping into the air and splashing nuclear-green sugar syrup everywhere.

“Protect the meat!" Cash shouted, leaping heroically in front of the burners. “Sacrifice the salad but protect the meat!"

Joel, realizing his mistake, hesitated for a second. In that one moment, Shaw reacted and lunged for the bottle. The bear managed to get over the spinning soda but not before his work shirt and pants were completely soaked in the juices. Shaw stumbled as some of the soda sprang into his eyes, making him cry out in surprise.

“It's in my nose!" cried the bear, flailing backwards.

That was when Joel's reflexes finally kicked in and he dove for the bottle, snatching it in both hands and yanking it away from Shaw. He got some of it on his shirt but he was not nearly as soaked as Shaw who was wiping the juices from his eyes and fur.

There was a moment of silence as the three men just stared at each other, at the bottle of soda in Joel's hands and then at each other again.

Then Shaw turned to Cash. “Protect the meat?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Sacrifice the salad? Really?"

Cash offered a little, sheepish grin. “Hey, as a chef I know what's more valuable in the kitchen."

“I am going to buy you a shirt with those words printed on it," the bear taunted. “I'm going to make you regret choosing a slab of steak over me!"

“This is a New York Strip! It's expensive."

Joel made the mistake of letting out a little laugh. That brought Shaw's attention to him.

“And you," accused the bear. “Did you really have to be so dramatic? I thought you'd be used to me rejecting your drinks by now." He snatched the mostly empty bottle from Joel's hands and grabbed the bottle cap from the table. “And didn't anyone ever tell you to close every bottle when you're done with it!?"

Shrugging absently, Joel said, “Come on. I put some real hard work and thought into making this drink for you. I don't know if you realized, but I used the really good ice and my personal bartending kit for this!"

“Yeah, yeah," Shaw rumbled, unable to keep the grin off his muzzle. The bear set down the bottle, still dripping wet with soda. “I am going to have to take a shower."

“Good thing you're in my place, then," replied Cash. “Joel, why don't you go show him how the showers work. I'll clean this mess up."

“I'm old enough to shower myself."

Joel rested a paw on the bear's shoulder and led him towards the stairs. “Not with these showers. Remember, you're in a twenty-million-dollar house. These showers spray you with gold not water."

Shaw reeled back in genuine surprise. “Wait… really?"

His eyes closed halfway and his lips flattened into a straight line. Shaw caught the expression and threw his paws up in exasperation.

“How am I supposed to know!?" demanded the bear. “I barely make six figures in California! I don't know how rich people shower!"

Still laughing as they headed up the stairs to the third floor, Joel showed the bear to the guest bathroom. Shaw commented how the bathroom was as big as his bedroom in his apartment. That was a very familiar comparison. Joel recalled thinking the same thing when Cash had first brought them to a tour of the place.

The floors were made of polished marble and the walls had marble tiling as well. To the immediate right of the entrance were four sinks sitting side by side with a long mirror sitting in front of them. What few realized was that there was a television behind the mirror so if anyone wanted to soak in the two bathtubs that sat opposite the sinks, they could actually watch the news or game through the mirror. Beyond the twin tubs were the showers - a full gym-style communal shower.

Separated by a half a foot-tall barricade from the rest of the bathroom, the showers were tiled with a deep, sapphire blue tiles. A long wall barred view of the shower heads itself but had entrances to the left and right. There were no doors over the entrances. As they approached, Shaw noticed exactly why he would need help with this shower.

There were nozzles all over the walls.

“Fancy, huh?" Joel teased. He gestured at the four primary showerheads that stretched out from the ceiling and hung over the four drains embedded into the slightly slanted floor. They were designed to be one of those 'rainfall' type showers. All along the walls, however, were large, black spouts similar to Jacuzzi jets.

“How… does this work?" Shaw asked. “What are they for?"

“Full-body shower," explained Joel with a shrug. “The rich really know how to splurge on everything. Including their showers and water bills." He pointed to the one of the handles embedded into the wall. “It gets tricky, though. If you want to just use the showerhead, just twist it counterclockwise. The further you turn it, the hotter the water gets. If you pull at the handle, though, you'll start the jets. The further you pull, the more powerful the jets become. About midway, you'll have both the showerhead and the jets on. Pull it all the way, and it'll only be the jets."

Shaw shook his head in disbelief. “This is so excessive."

Joel folded his arms and cast his gaze around the shower. “You're telling me. Believe it or not, upstairs, in the master bedroom, the shower is even weirder. It's got an inbuilt fur-dryer into the walls. Makes for fun sexy times, though."

Shaw shot him a look and he threw back one of his sly winks.

“Alright, fine," sighed the bear. “I'm going to get showered. You going to join me?"

For a second, Joel's heart skipped a beat. “Are you okay with that?"

“We've seen each other naked." Shaw began unbuttoning his soaking shirt. “Sucked each other off." He grimaced as he peeled the sticky fabric off his fur. Joel's throat closed a little at the sight of the bear's cuddly body drenched in soda. Some part of him wanted to suck the juices right out of that fur. “Besides, you're a little wet too. Don't want soda juices in your fur. Trust me."

Joel shrugged. “Can't argue with that."

He began stripping off his clothes, tossing his shirt to the side. It was fairly obvious that Shaw was staring and watching him as he did so and got a little boost to his confidence as he put on a little show for his friend. They both seemed to take their time. Despite his work pants fully soaked in soda, likely seeping into his underwear, Shaw still peeled each garment off him one at a time. Logically, he shouldn't just taken them pants and underwear off in one stroke. Joel decided to tease him back by doing the same.

Then, they were standing in their underwear for a few seconds, just watching each other from the corner of their eyes.

“You know if you wanted to see me naked, you just had to ask," Joel quipped.

Shaw blushed in that adorable full-body way that he did but didn't turn away. “Yeah… well… If you wanted to have sex with me again, you didn't have to douse me in Mountain Dew."

In reply, he hooked the elastic of his trunks with one hand, pulling it away from his waist as a precursor to removing them. “To be fair, I genuinely thought making a cocktail with your favorite soda would help."

“Mountain Dew isn't my favorite soda."

What!?

Joel released the band of his underwear with a snap, the elastic slamming against his flesh and leaving him with a light stinging sensation.

“But I saw it all over your apartment?"

Shaw's blush grew a little deeper and he scratched his cheek in embarrassment. “My favorite Thai takeaway place has a deal with the meals I ordered from them all the time. I guess they must have a sponsorship with Mountain Dew or something. You get a free can with every meal if you order an entree and an appetizer."

Goddamnit!

Joel slapped his forehead and rolled his head back, letting out a frustrated groan. Shaw's delightful laughter at his plight made his stomach churn. Despite his abject failure, he couldn't help but laugh at his own stupidity. Now that he thought about it, Mountain Dew was probably the last thing the cute cola would've wanted in his drink after spending the last two weeks rapidly consuming it.

“You know what?" he exclaimed. “I'll just come right out and ask instead of guessing all the time." Lowered his gaze back to Shaw. “What do you want in your drink?"

Shaw made a face filled with uncertainty, pursing his lips and shuffling that pucker from left to right, wiggling his nose in the process. Then the bear turned his back to Joel, stripping his underwear off and tossing it aside.

“Honestly? I don't know. Most of the time, I only drink to stay hydrated or because it gives me the shot of energy I need to keep working or gaming. If it's convenient, I'll grab it. It's not like I prefer one thing over another." He stepped over the little wall into the showers before glancing over his shoulder at Joel. “Is that bad?"

Sighing inwardly, Joel stripped off his underwear and followed the bear. “No. I get it. Nothing wrong with that. It just makes it more thrilling to find the drink for you."

After a quick reminder on how the showers worked, Shaw turned on the showerhead alone, avoiding the jets. Cold water drizzled down from above on him but the polar bear didn't even shiver. Joel moved to the next showerhead over and did the same.

“Why is it so important for you to find that drink for me?" Shaw asked at length, absently rubbing the water into his thick fur.

“I made a promise, didn't I?" Joel responded, a smile on his muzzle. “I'd find you your drink. I'm not backing down on that."

“Come on, man. It's more than that."

Huh?

He glanced over at Shaw in confusion. “What do you mean?"

Shaw made a few sweeping gestures around him while simultaneously rubbing the water into his armpits. “You just raced over from whatever you were doing to come here because you were struck by inspiration on what to make for me. Why couldn't you just wait until I next visited the bar? Also, don't you have a shift in a few hours?"

“I got Valentino to cover for me," Joel answered quickly. “Besides, it's not every day that the guy I sleep with walks out my door and tells me he hates the drink I made him. That stuck with me, you know."

Dipping his gaze a little, Shaw sighed. “Yeah… Sorry. That was rude of me."

Damnit. I'm doing it again. Channeling Liam. Blaming him for my obsession.

Joel took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Come on, Joel. Just be honest.

“Look, I kind of have a routine," confessed the bovine bartender, tilting his head back a little to let the shower's waters fall upon his face. “I hookup with a guy. We bang for a couple of weeks. I find his drink. Then we move on. He goes his way. I go mine. Maybe we hookup again every now and then but I never touch them again if they find their partner, get married or whatever. I'm not going to be someone's cuck."

“Oh…" Shaw mumbled softly. “So… the only think keeping you from 'moving on' is finding my drink?"

Shit… that came out wrong.

“Pretty much."

That's even worse!

His stomach was twisting into knots seeing Shaw's gaze dip lower and lower. That confidence that he and the rest of the crew at JACKED had fostered was fading.

Fast.

Just be honest, Joel!

Words, thoughts and feelings were bubbling up from his knotted gut but getting stuck in his throat.

Why the fuck does it feel wrong to bounce away from him after all this time?

Why did it feel weird to look at another guy after you've slept with Shaw three times already!?

Why did you feel jealous when he did it with Killian!?

Why were you hurt when he told you that this wasn't that kind of relationship?

The answer scared him.

A crooked smile crossed his features. “The funny thing, I kind of don't want to go through with it."

Shaw's brow knitted in that perfect way that it always did. The bear lifted his gaze to look straight at him. “Why?"

“Because then I wouldn't have an excuse to keep you around," said the bull softly. “You'd have every reason to move on and I wouldn't have any reason to ask you to stay."

The bear's green eyes glimmered, shimmering in the water. “Are… Are you serious right now?"

Joel took a deep breath, glanced away and then let out that held breath, drawing out the exhalation for as long as possible.

“Yeah," he confessed. “I like you, Shaw. I really do. I haven't felt this way since I met the other guys." Raising a hand to cup the side of his own head, he said, “I think I'm way too damaged to call this 'love' and I'm a little too scrambled to ever be exclusive to one guy but…" Now it was his turn to blush as he closed his eyes and allowed his fingers to drift over his eyes, hiding them - and the tears welling up in his eyes - from Shaw. “… I can't help but imagine you joining us, you know? Maybe rename the place JACKED'S."

Fear kept him from peering past his fingers at the bear. But it was Shaw's gentle touch against his stomach that soothed the roiling storm that had been blending his guts into a smoothie.

“Why me? Why am I so special after all the people you've slept with? You're twenty years older than me."

“Sixteen," he corrected. “I checked."

“Still! You've got a huge body count and I've only ever been with one guy." Slowly, Shaw pulled away. “Why me?"

Joel reached down, grabbing the bear's paw and keeping him from going to far. Instead, he stepped forward, away from his shower and closer to Shaw.

“I don't know why," he admitted. “I really don't. At this point in my routine, I should feel 'satisfied' or something. Like I know where it's going and I've accepted that but with you, I don't!" He let out a slightly hysteric laugh. “And the funny thing is, I don't want to know."

Water was getting into his eyes so he quickly brushed his hair back. “Maybe it's because you were the first person to ever tell me the drinks I make suck." He glanced off to the right. “Except those first few months when I was just getting into bartending but I don't count those." Locking gazes with Shaw again, he continued. “Maybe it's because you're the first person to ever break me out of my routine. Or maybe it's because we both have trouble moving on from toxic relationships."

Shaw gave him a quizzical look.

“It's my dad. I'll tell you another time." Joel held the bear's paw a little more tightly. “Fact is, I don't want you to just be another hookup. I want you around, Shaw."

“Do you love me?"

Joel couldn't stop the grimace from his features. When he realized he made that face, he immediately regretted it. “I -"

Shaw turned away, chuckling softly. “Come on, I'm not that naive. We've known each other for a week." The bear lifted one eyebrow thoughtfully. “Actually, today would be exactly week when we first met." Lopsided smile on his muzzle, Shaw turned back to Joel and said, “If you told me you loved me right now, I'd be running for the hills."

A wave of relief washed over the bull and he let out a little sigh. “Yeah, we're still fairly fresh into this." Tilting his head a little, he said, “So what do you say? Stick around even after I find you your drink?"

Shaw glanced away for a moment, pushing out his lower lip thoughtfully. “No. Let's not make that a condition of where this goes."

The polar bear regarded him firmly. “If I learned anything from Liam, a real relationship isn't transactional. I'm not going to count what you've done for me or what I've done for you and I'm not going to put an exit clause on this." He quickly swung his paw between them. “I'm sticking around because I like you guys. I like hanging out with you at JACKED." Shaw began to blush again. “I like sleeping with each of you. I especially like how you guys have helped me be more comfortable with me while still keeping me grounded."

Lifting his muzzle, Shaw said, “So here's the deal. Go ahead and keep looking for the drink that'll make me cum the minute you serve it. But when you do, move on from this idea that I'm your customer." He tilted his head, offering a coy little smile. “Then come over to my side of the bar and share that drink with me for once."

Joel's heart fluttered and, without thinking, he leaned down and planted his lips on Shaw's, the two of them sharing a tender kiss. They held it for the briefest of moments before he pulled away again.

“Deal," he whispered.

Their lips met again, this time for longer.

Neither of them could help but smile.

Then Joel pulled away, looking upwards at the droplets falling on his head. “Huh."

“What is it?" Shaw asked.

“You take cold showers too."

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