It was Tristan’s day off, but he’d been treating those as suggestions for as long as he could remember. He was out doing recon since he had nothing better to do. The worst that could happen was that he would find nothing and waste his day, but it was better to make sure.

If VNM really was spreading like his sources said, he was going to end up seeing it. Not that he doubted his informants or anything, but second-hand information could be inaccurate, compromised, or might not be a good indication of the bigger picture. It was why he had to see things for himself.

If Tristan had to guess, the usual patrol route he and his family used wasn’t going to suffice. It mostly took them around the core part of the neighborhood. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to range further out, they just had limited manpower. There were five of them and they all had lives. They couldn’t all go on patrol all night, every night.

They had to stay healthy enough to respond effectively to the threats that cropped up occasionally, but they also had to keep the most people safe that they could. The regular patrol route was something they’d designed to strike a balance between those two opposing forces, but the problem was that it didn’t go deep enough into the shadier parts of the neighborhood.

If drugs were starting to spread, Tristan was willing to bet that he was going to happen upon it in those areas. He wasn’t all that enthusiastic about the trip. He could take care of himself, but the outskirts of their territory weren’t exactly safe.

Tristan, his dad, and his brothers had clashed with the local crime lords enough that a mutual understanding had been developed. As long as no one fucked with their people, they wouldn’t retaliate.

There was peace, but everyone knew it was constantly being tested. The community that Tristan and his family protected was an untapped market, after all, and crime lords weren’t given to leaving profits on the table.

The family’s enemies were constantly pushing the envelope. They couldn’t be so brazen near the dojo but out here, in the place that Tristan and his family couldn’t protect all the time, this was where they tried to probe for weaknesses—for ways in.

One thing immediately jumped out at Tristan as he walked through the more distant parts of the family’s territory. The atmosphere wasn’t quite as oppressive as before. He remembered the streets being messier. They weren’t pristine—that was pretty much impossible in this part of town—but there was a lot less litter than he expected.

A nearby park that was neglected and overgrown the last time he saw it had received at least a little bit of care and maintenance since then. It wasn’t great by any means, but it was cleaner than it used to be and definitely a lot more pleasant. There were actually people using it—children playing in the grass.

This wasn’t what Tristan expected to find. He barely remembered the last time he was here, but it definitely didn’t look like this. He knew that for certain. There wasn’t even anything particularly remarkable about the area, just the fact that everything was so much more tidy than it used to be. Hell, even the air smelled cleaner.

There were so many more people out and about than there used to be. It was the middle of the day, but people were in the streets. They were in the scattered handful of parks and plazas. It was strange.

In the past, this place had such trouble with crime—of both violent and non-violent varieties—that people used to be afraid to leave their houses. Now, people seemed to have no problem hanging out in the streets.

One thing Tristan did notice as he ranged further out was that more and more people seemed to be vaping. They were blowing clouds of purple vapor that almost seemed to stain the air where there were lots of them.

There was a strange hunger in the eyes of those people. He could feel their looks on him, staring as he walked past.

They weren’t being malicious—Tristan would have been able to tell if they were—but the look in their eyes wasn’t exactly kind, either. Tristan wasn’t sure how to put it, but he felt like a piece of meat surrounded by a pack of famished wolves.

What had started off as an easy stroll was setting off weird alarms in Tristan’s head. He knew better than to ignore his gut feelings, but he had no idea what was tripping his fight-or-flight response.

A shiver ran down Tristan’s spine. His heart raced. He took a few deep breaths in an attempt to self-regulate, but it didn’t work. In fact, it was only making things worse.

He looked over his shoulder and briefly considered doubling back to try to figure out what was going on with him in safer surroundings, but he resisted the urge. He had come here on a mission. He couldn’t back down just because he was getting a little scared.

Tristan tugged at the collar of his shirt. Something was strange. He felt flushed. His cheeks were warm. Sweat was beading on his brow and trickling down the sides of his face.

He gritted his teeth and kept going, but there was something about this place that set him on edge. More and more people were looking his way. He felt like a fish out of water and that was unsettling.

The unexpected part was that the attention was doing something to him. He was getting excited. He was getting horny. He didn’t know what was going on, but feeling all those eyes on him made his cock stir. The more that they looked, the harder he got, and every effort he took to try to calm down was backfiring.

Deep breathing was important in maintaining a clear, level, and meditative mind. That was one of the first things that Tristan had learned as a martial artist. This was probably the only time it didn’t work. Every breath he took filled his chest with warmth, and that warmth made his cock throb.

He stumbled over his own feet as he tried in vain to hide his growing erection. Maybe that was why people were looking. He was walking so confidently before and now he was waddling uncomfortably.

The thing was that he couldn’t exactly hide his predicament without looking even more suspicious. It was a good thing no one else was complaining, but it felt like the harder he got, the hungrier the looks were that came his way.

It was too much. Tristan should have turned back a while ago. His sense of danger was going haywire, telling him that there were threats all around him. He didn’t think it was the people, which was why it made so little sense.

He had to beat a retreat. Something was terribly wrong. The fact he didn’t know what it was only made things worse.

In his haste to retreat, Tristan ended up getting turned around. It was a bit difficult to see through the purple haze in the air, which only seemed to get thicker the further that he went.

He was trained to keep a level head in emergencies, but it was hard. He couldn’t quite concentrate, the pulsing of his dick between his legs distracting him every step of the way. It didn’t help that his instincts were screaming at him, that every fiber of his body was ready to just bolt.

Tristan kept his head down and his eyes fixed on the ground. It was already pretty obvious he didn’t belong, but the last thing that he wanted was to attract more attention. Unfortunately for him, not looking where he was going meant that he walked right into someone else.

He was normally better about being aware of his surroundings even when he wasn’t looking, but he was so distracted by everything going on. His senses were overloaded. His stiff cock was making him so goddamned horny.

“I-I’m sorry,” Tristan stammered.

“Just watch where you’re going.”

Tristan looked up to nod. “I-I w—” What he was about to say died in his throat as he realized that there were two guys in front of him. One was pinned against the wall. The guy he’d bumped into was the one doing the pinning.

For a moment, he thought that it was a shakedown or a mugging of some sort. He was ready to jump in and intervene despite the state he was in. As awful as he felt, he wasn’t one to just stand by when there was crime happening in front of him.

Just as he was about to tell the guy he’d bumped into to back away, he realized it wasn’t a mugging at all. The guy he’d bumped into had a hand down the front of the other guy’s pants, his fingers visibly moving under the fabric along the length of the pinned guy’s cock.

The pinned guy had a hand down the back of the first guy’s pants, too. He was palming and kneading the first guy’s ass. With his free hand, he was taking a long drag off of a black pen vape that glowed with purple circuit lines. The guy Tristan had bumped into had one of those, too.

Tristan was so stunned he couldn’t even dodge when the guy he’d bumped into blew a cloud of purple vapor in his face. “See anything you like?” said the guy. “There’s space for three. You can even bring a friend, if you want.”

The question took Tristan aback. He was so stunned that his brain short-circuited for a moment. “I-I don’t want to get in between you and your boyfriend,” he said.

Even as Tristan spoke the words, he was looking the guys up and down. He didn’t know why, but in the back of his mind, he was genuinely considering the offer.

His cock twitched in his pants. The two guys were pretty hot in their own right. The one pinned against the wall didn’t even have a shirt on, exposing a chiseled chest and shredded abs. The one that Tristan had bumped into was wearing a red button-up that was all the way unbuttoned, teasing a similarly cut physique.

The two guys laughed. “We’re not boyfriends,” said Shirtless.

“We literally met like an hour ago,” said Red Button-up.

Tristan didn’t know these guys’ names, and he had the distinct impression that he wasn’t going to learn them, so he just called them by what they were wearing in his head. Moments later, his brain finally caught up to the present, and it took every ounce of willpower he had not to visibly recoil.

He didn’t want to give these guys the wrong impression. He didn’t disapprove, exactly. He was decently familiar with hookup culture. No. He was more so dismayed at himself. He couldn’t quite believe that he had genuinely considered the offer. He was straight.

Tristan knew he had to be firm. He had to turn these guys down and leave no room for misunderstanding. But for some reason, the only thing he could think to say was, “I-I’m not gay.” He didn’t even sound all that confident.

Red Button-up chuckled. “Doesn’t matter when you’re on VNM, bro,” he said. “You should give it a try. It might just open your eyes to a whole new kind of pleasure.”

“I agree,” said Shirtless. “I used to be exclusively straight. I never imagined it could feel so good to get ass-fucked. It was even more amazing on VNM. Better than shoving my dick in a tight pussy, let me tell you.”

Tristan’s cock twitched as the idea of being trapped between these two guys crossed his mind. He didn’t know why it was such a turn on but he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

No. No. He was straight. He didn’t have anything against gay guys, but this wasn’t his scene. He liked women. Pussy. Titties. Shaking his head to try to clear away the haze that had descended over his thoughts, he took a step back, only to end up bumping into another guy.

Tristan turned to face the guy he’d just backed into and blurted out, “I-I’m so sorry,” before he could stop himself.

The guy was wearing a leather jacket, but nothing underneath it. It was such a distinctive look, at least in the immediate vicinity, that Tristan’s head instantly named the guy Leather Jacket.

Leather Jacket had a rugged look to him. He was probably a few years older than Tristan. He had a dusting of stubble on his chin and a handsome set to his jaw. His piercing eyes twinkled as his gaze and Tristan’s met.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Leather Jacket’s mouth. He raised a hand, tightening the fingerless leather glove that he had on it. He then placed his hand on his chest, conspicuously sliding his fingers down the middle of his torso until he reached the bulge in his leather pants.

Despite himself, Tristan couldn’t help but follow the movement of Leather Jacket’s hand. His gaze was glued to the sizable package Leather Jacket was cupping in the palm of his leather gloved hand. It was bigger than his—at least as far as he could tell.

Leather Jacket released his junk and winked when Tristan’s gaze shot up to meet his. He said nothing, but cast a pointed glance to the side before walking away.

Tristan stared after Leather Jacket for a little bit. He was straight—he’d never had to remind himself of this fact as often as in the last few days—but he was almost transfixed on the guy’s ass.

Shirtless reached out, tapping Tristan on the shoulder with his vape and said, “Well, are you going after him?”

Tristan frowned. “Why would I?” he said.

Red Button-up snorted. “Leather guy liked what he saw. He wants to fuck you.”

Tristan’s eyes widened. He cast his gaze in the direction Leather Jacket had gone and felt his asshole flutter in response. Suddenly, there was an itch deep inside him. He tried to bury it, but to no avail. Arousal washed over him in mind-numbing waves.

It took him longer than he would have liked to shake it off. He wasn’t gay. He was on a mission. He had to figure out what was up with this VNM stuff and see just how far it had spread. He—

Shirtless laughed, interrupting Tristan’s train of thought. “If you’re not going for him, I will. Maybe he’d be interested in a threesome.” He wrenched his hand out of the other guy’s pants and took the man by the wrist, dragging him along to follow the leather guy.

Red Button-up nearly tripped over his own feet, shouting, “You really should try some VNM!” over his shoulder at Tristan. “It’ll get the stick out of your ass! You know, to make space for what really matters! Dick!”

Arousal and shame curdled in Tristan’s stomach. The second one because he couldn’t understand why he was so turned on by this situation when, by all rights, he shouldn’t have been.

He hated that he was so turned on, but his cock was as hard as it had ever been. His asshole wouldn’t stop pulsing and trembling. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but replay Shirtless’ words in his head. That Shirtless used to be exclusively straight, but that VNM had helped him realize how good it felt to be fucked up the ass.

Tristan ended up leaning on the wall that Shirtless had been pinned up against. The thought of it was just too much. He couldn’t stop thinking about feeling Leather Jacket’s fingers playing with his hole—Leather Jacket’s cock spreading him open.

It took every ounce of willpower he had left not to just shove his hand down the front of his pants. Sweat was trickling down the side of his face from the strain, his fist balled so tight his knuckles were turning white.

It was tough. Tristan had to claw his way through the haze of arousal that hung thick around his thoughts. It took him a while, but eventually, he did get his head back on straight. About as straight as he could manage, anyway.

Fuck, Tristan couldn’t help but think to himself. He really needed to get out of this place. Before it put any other weird ideas in his head.

---

Tristan was hopelessly lost. He wouldn’t usually have much trouble navigating but there were three things working against him right now: the thick haze in his head, the distraction of his cock pulsing so needily between his legs, and the fact that the air was so choked with purple smog that it was genuinely difficult to see where he was going.

He noticed something bright in the distance and figured it was as good a landmark to use as any. He stumbled in the direction of the light, dodging people left and right as he weaved through the crowd.

Tristan had happened upon a small plaza with a green space in the middle. There were a lot of people here and they were all very handsy. Someone was reclining on a bench with his arm draped over the backrest, lazily jerking off his cock while he vaped. In a nearby alley was a couple going to town on each other.

He himself had been groped a couple of times already. It wasn’t the sort of thing he would usually let slide, but today was different. He told himself it was because he had to focus on his mission, but deep down he knew it was because he liked it—he liked the way those guys had roughly copped a feel of his body.

Tristan stumbled over a raised step but managed to catch himself. He looked up and saw the source of the light. It was a bright neon sign that only had three letters: VNM. The word was framed in the likeness of a cobra’s open maw.

His eyes widened. If he was right and this was a place where the drug was being distributed, it was exactly the sort of place that he’d come here for. Still unsteady on his own feet, he climbed the stairs up to the front door of the building.

From the doorstep, Tristan could hear the sound of moaning. It went straight to his cock, making his erection twitch. Before going in, he looked around, but there didn’t seem to be much in the way of security around the place.

Tristan took a deep breath in an attempt to re-center himself. It only sent a fresh wave of heat throughout his body.

He gritted his teeth. He forced himself to focus. He had a mission. He needed information. Intelligence was his objective. That was why he had to go in. He wasn’t entering because the noises made his cock twitch. He wasn’t intrigued. It wasn’t about how horny he was. And most of all, he wasn’t hoping to find a hookup inside.

The truth of the matter was that Tristan needed to get his rocks off. His need for release was almost overwhelming. But he was made of sterner stuff. That was what he kept telling himself. He wasn’t about to walk into a drug den just to bust a nut. He wasn’t so desperate that he’d settle for a handjob or a blowjob—that was probably going to come from a man—just to get off and relieve some of the pressure that was pent up in his nuts.

Tristan flung the door open and stumbled in. No one stopped him. No one ID’ed him. He crossed the threshold with no physical resistance, but there was a marked difference in the air quality between the outside and the inside.

The air in the interior of the building was thick with purple haze. It had to be twice as dense as what was outside. At least. Every breath that Tristan took was a lungful that made his cock throb almost painfully.

Tristan was sweating like a hog, but it wasn’t from the heat. It was actually rather cooler inside the building than outside. The warmth was coming from inside him, spreading from his chest to near every corner of his body.

The place was badly lit, but Tristan didn’t know if that was just a function of the thick purple fog in the air, or if the place was truly just that dingy. It was hard to tell. Even the light from outside only penetrated a few feet into the building.

The entryway was a narrow corridor that led deeper into the building. A few lights shone from above, casting a dim glow onto the floor. They illuminated the many pairs of shoes that had been discarded along the length of the corridor.

Seeing all this, and especially how much darker the place got when he closed the door behind him, Tristan couldn’t help but wonder if this was a bad idea. He was behind enemy lines. Even just being there was a risk. The most reasonable thing to do in this situation was to call in reinforcements, but he just couldn’t bring himself to.

Tristan didn’t really understand why he was hesitating. He rationalized it a dozen ways: he didn’t want to tip off the enemy, he didn’t want his family to see this sort of scene, or maybe he just didn’t want to risk missing vital information because he delayed himself too long.

Deep down, he knew the reason. But it wasn’t something he was ready to confront, much less acknowledge. He shoved the thought down and continued down the corridor. He eventually arrived at the top of a staircase leading down. The lightning was even worse there, but the bright glow from below was at least enough for him to make it to the bottom without incident.

Tristan turned right at the base of the stairs and saw an open doorway leading to a large open space. There was just a bunch of clothes piled up at the opening and past that was a room full of naked men.

From where he was standing, Tristan could spot a few pairs of socked feet and the occasional guy wearing a thong or some other sort of ridiculously skimpy underwear. As a general rule, however, everyone was buck-naked.

Tristan’s cock strained in his pants. He realized there was only one thing that he could do: he had to strip down. He had to fit in. If he was going to get any information about VNM from these guys, he was going to have to let them get comfortable around him and that wasn’t going to happen if he went around dressed in a room full of naked men.

He hesitated for a moment. Again, there was that distinct sense of wrongness in the back of his mind. Alarm bells were ringing. His instincts were screaming. He knew he had to leave, lest he put himself in grave danger, but he pushed through. He had a mission to fulfill, he told himself.

Tristan’s clothes joined the others in the pile and shortly thereafter, he walked onto the main floor. Almost everyone seemed to have one of those vapes, the faint purple circuit lines creating an ethereal sort of atmosphere in the room. It almost looked like a swarm of purple fireflies flitting around in the thick haze.

It was an orgy inside. There were men fucking, sucking, and jerking off in every conceivable position. There was a DJ booth in the back, blasting a deep, jaw-rattling bass beat into the room.

The club lighting from the back cast a deep teal glow through the purple haze. The shadows in the room were long and sharp, which had the added effect of rendering every hard line and deep cut of muscle in stark contrast.

The scene was a feast for the eyes, a spread of male physiques that would have made any gay man drool. Tristan tried to convince himself that he was about it, but the sight made his cock so fucking hard.

As he walked into the room, his stiff dick jutted out in front of him. He kept getting groped, fingers wrapping around his shaft, squeezing his ass.

Tristan should have pulled away, but he didn’t. He should have dodged, but he stayed still. If anything, he leaned into it, pushing his cock and ass into the groping hands.

It meant nothing. He was just trying to fit in. People would notice if he was at an orgy and avoiding people instead of joining in. That was what he tried to tell himself, anyway. He pointedly ignored just how hot he was, how much pre-cum was dripping from his cock.

Tristan’s heart raced. He could feel it hammering against his ribs. He wasn’t sure if it was from nerves or excitement. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know which it was.

As he made his way through the crowd, the rational part of Tristan’s mind started to get the sense that he wasn’t going to get much useful information from these people. They were all clearly high. They were glassy eyed and drooling, their spit adding to the mess of fluids that coated nearly every surface.

He’d thought that maybe things were improving in this neighborhood because the streets were cleaner, but the thought occurred to him that maybe it was just because these people wanted to bring the orgy out into the streets. It was one thing to be knee-deep in a mess of bodily fluids. It was another entirely to roll around in a street full of trash.

Tristan ended up dancing with a twink while he was deep in his thoughts. His body seemed to move on its own, his arms rising into the air over his head as he swung his hips from side to side.

A low groan spilled from his lips as the twink backed onto him, fat ass shaking and grinding against his stiff cock. Fuck, was the only thing Tristan could think. The urge to grab that narrow waist and just slide right in was unreal.

He resisted. He forced himself to focus on the big picture. He was unlikely to get any useful information by talking to these people, but maybe he didn’t have to.

Tristan struggled. The haze in his head was so thick his brain had to work overtime just to think. It was so tempting to just let go and give in to the pleasure, but he couldn’t let himself do that. He still had a mission.

After a short while, he was finally able to muster his thoughts—thanks in no small part to someone grabbing the twink off of him. In that brief moment of blessed clarity, he realized that VNM was so much worse than what his informant had told him.

Tristan didn’t have a full accounting of the effects of VNM, but judging by the looks on the faces of the guys around him, it was bad. This was a serious drug. It was widespread. It was potent. It created altered states of consciousness.

VNM had all the trappings of a narcotic, which meant that action had to be taken. And soon. He, his family, and the local PD needed to get on the case so that things didn’t get any more out of hand.

Tristan should have left then and there, but something compelled him to stay. He told himself it was to get evidence, but there was something deeper than that.

His concentration was slipping. He couldn’t focus hard enough on his mission to ignore what was going on with his body. As loath as he was to even acknowledge it, his body was enjoying all the stimulation.

Tristan’s cock was bouncing with every step that he took. He felt the rumble of every deep bass beat in his bones. He struggled to hold on to the reason that he’d come here in the first place, but it was like trying to hold on to a stream of water.

Suddenly, a pair of burly arms grabbed Tristan from behind. His arms flailed as he was pulled back. His feet went out from under him as gravity took over and he landed in the lap of a rather muscular gentleman with a thud and a grunt.

Tristan didn’t know what was wrong with him, but the feeling of those huge arms around his waist brought a desperate moan to his lips. His eyes widened as soon as it spilled out of him. He couldn’t believe it was a noise that he had made. He’d sounded like a whore.

The guy’s fat cock pressed up against the cleft of his ass. He felt the heat of it and the way that it pulsed. A tremor shot through him when he felt the warmth of pre-cum dripping into his crack.

He was a fairly muscular guy—the typical jock body, if he had to put a label on it—but he wasn’t huge. He couldn’t call himself huge when he’d grown up with absolute beasts in Trevor and Derek. The guy whose lap he had just landed in was just slightly smaller than his dad and big brother, and that was a problem.

Tristan couldn’t help but imagine… What if it was Trevor? What if it was Derek? His cock throbbed, so near to bursting, as the image of him and his dad in this position came to mind.

The sensation of the brute’s cock sliding up and down along the cleft of his ass brought Tristan crashing back to the present. His heart seized in his chest. He didn’t know if what he felt was anticipation or apprehension, but in his panic, he blurted out, “D-don’t fuck me, please!”

The big guy chuckled. “That suits me just fine… But you look like you could use some help.” He removed one arm from Tristan’s waist and wrapped his fingers around Tristan’s cock. His hands were callused. His palm was coarse. But the weird thing was that it didn’t feel unpleasant.

Tristan couldn’t help but arch his back and moan. The big guy’s touch was electric, and only made worse as the big guy’s fingers glided up and down along his length.

He’d never imagined that he’d one day find himself naked on another man’s lap, much less getting jerked off while he was at it. He didn’t even know why he wasn’t making more of a stink about the big guy hotdogging his ass.

What happened to being straight? Tristan couldn’t help but think to himself. But then he remembered his earlier encounter. He remembered Shirtless’ words. He’d been exposed to VNM all day and if those two guys were to be believed, sexuality didn’t matter under the drug’s thrall. The pleasure was all that counted.

He told himself that was it. This was just the VNM in his system pushing him to do things he otherwise wouldn’t do. He would be better as soon as he left. He’d go back to normal once he was out of here. Because the alternative didn’t bear thinking about. He couldn’t accept it.

Tristan told himself that when he left this place, he was going to push the memory of it into the back of his mind. He was going to bury it where the light would never reach. Because he knew that part of him would never leave, given the choice.

It didn’t take long before Tristan’s hips were moving on their own. The more time he spent down here, the hotter he felt and the hazier his thoughts became. He bucked and thrusted, fucking his cock into the big guy’s hand while humping his ass against the big guy’s dick.

A small voice in the back of Tristan’s head tried to tell him that this wasn’t the sort of thing he should have been getting involved in. He was better than this. He had too strong a sense of dignity and self-respect to be sinking to this level and needed to act like a hero.

Between the music and the low drone of moaning from the orgy, Tristan could hardly hear himself think, much less the voice of his conscience. He couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to stop, not if he was being honest with himself. Every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire and not in a bad way.

Tristan tilted his head back and moaned. He could usually last longer than this, but the big guy’s rough fingers sliding up and down over the length of his cock took him to the edge faster than he anticipated. Between that and the constant teasing and groping he’d had to endure all day, it was little wonder how quickly he approached the point of no return.

His toes curled. His thighs clenched. Every muscle in his body tensed as his balls drew up against his crotch. Then, and only then, did he actually come.

The orgasm was explosive. It was more intense and pleasurable than any that Tristan had ever had. He couldn’t hold back anymore, moaning like a cheap whore as rope after rope of hot cum rocketed out of the tip of his dick. He was pretty sure the first shot hit the ceiling.

Tristan had never had an orgasm this powerful. It stole the very breath from his lungs and sent a fresh wave of pleasure crashing through him when the big guy whose lap he was on started coming too. What felt like a gallon of cum splattered onto his lower back. He felt it drip down the cleft of his ass. It trickled slowly down his sensitive crack, his hole seizing near-violently when brought into contact with the big guy’s warm cum.

It took a minute or so before Tristan came down from the high of the orgasm, but post-nut clarity hit him like a truck. He was so aghast with what he’d done—and what he’d let the big guy do to him—that he all but jumped out of the guy’s lap.

Tristan sprinted off and never looked back. He tripped over not just his own feet, but outstretched legs, scattered clothes, and even used condoms as he staggered and stumbled toward the exit.

He snatched clothes off the floor as he left. He wasn’t even sure they were his. He didn’t care. He just needed to get out. He couldn’t stop replaying the scene in his head. He’d just gotten jerked off by a man. And not only that, he’d come so hard that he was pretty sure it was the most intense orgasm he’d ever had.

Shame and humiliation churned in the pit of his stomach as he climbed the stairs. He could feel the big guy’s load cooling as it trickled down his back and the inside of his thighs.

If Tristan needed any further proof that this situation needed to be dealt with, it was this. VNM needed to be eliminated. Every last drop needed to be destroyed. Because it was tearing the community apart, putting strange thoughts and desires in people. Because it was a plague.

Tristan convinced himself it was all about protecting the people he’d sworn to protect. He refused to acknowledge the truth: that he only wanted to get rid of VNM because he never wanted to have the temptation to come back here—the temptation to experience the same thing again.

---

Tristan couldn’t bring himself to leave home for the rest of the day. He was glad no one was there when he got back. The shirt he’d snatched up from the floor was two sizes too big on him and he’d definitely left the dojo wearing pants, not running shorts.

He was pretty sure he would have died if Trevor or Derek were there. He doubted they would have asked why there was crusty dried cum on the inside of his thighs, but he would have felt compelled to explain himself and he wasn’t sure he could have survived that. He didn’t even want to acknowledge that what was on his legs was cum.

Tristan knew that he’d have to get in contact with his informant sooner rather than later, but he couldn’t do it right now. His head was spinning. He couldn’t think straight. His heart was hammering in his chest, his pulse thundering in his ears. And as much as he hated it, he was still so fucking hard.

He couldn’t face his contact like this. He just couldn’t. He’d have to put things off until tomorrow—until after work. But maybe that was for the better anyway. He still needed to brief Ravi and Daniel about what he saw.

Daniel and Ravi didn’t need all the sordid details, but they were probably going to have questions Tristan wasn’t prepared to answer. He took a deep, shuddering breath. It was a bridge he’d have to cross when he got there.

Tristan threw himself into bed. He grabbed his phone and browsed to a porn site. This wasn’t something he did often, but he needed it right now. After everything he’d gone through, he just needed to confirm he could still get it up for women.

A few minutes of frantic masturbation later, Tristan came again. He should have been happy. He stayed hard. He still felt as much desire for women as he ever had. But the only thing he could think of as the cum slowly leaked from his cock was just how much less intense this orgasm was compared to what he experienced at the VNM den.

---

As Tristan predicted, Ravi and Daniel had questions. He was lucky they trusted him because they dropped the topic once they noticed how uncomfortable they were making him.

He didn’t know if that was a good thing, though. There was information he could share, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Because of what he would be saying about himself if he did.

Now Tristan was left waiting for his informant in a tucked-away alley near the dojo. He felt more pressure than ever before to deliver actionable intel.

He refused to go back to the area with all the VNM in the air, though. He told himself it was to limit exposure, that he didn’t want to spook people or tip off the enemy, but a small part of him knew it was because he didn’t think he could resist falling back into that temptation. He was afraid that one whiff of that thick purple smog would short-circuit his brain and fuck him up just like before.

Tristan was so absorbed in his thoughts that he jumped when his guy tapped him on the shoulder. He wasn’t sure how the informant was able to sneak up on him, but then again, he hadn’t exactly been paying attention.

It was a cardinal sin, Tristan knew. Trevor had always taught them to be well aware of their surroundings. But his mind was in flux. He could feel the turmoil in his qi.

“Are you good for it?” said Tristan’s informant—Owynn.

Tristan took a breath to steady himself. He leaned against the wall in an attempt to hide the half-chub twitching against his leg. “Of course I’m good for it,” he said, patting his pocket. “We’ve known each other for years, man. When haven’t I come through?”

“You promise?” said Owynn. He looked shifty. Nervous. “You promise you’re good for it?”

Tristan fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah, man. I’m good for it. I told you. Now, what do you know about VNM?”

Owynn didn’t look convinced, but the moment he started talking about VNM, he visibly lit up. “Oh, man, it’s the best. Gets you high like nothing else. Doesn’t leave you hungover.”

Unlike Tristan, Owynn made no effort to hide the erection that tented out his pants. Owynn took a deep, tremulous breath before continuing. “Sex on VNM… I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s divine, I guess? Like laying God Himself!”

Between the visible lump in Owynn’s pants and the obvious arousal in Owynn’s voice, Tristan’s body was starting to respond in kind. His cock twitched, but he ignored the frisson of arousal that went through him. “That’s not the information I want,” he said.

“Where can I get some?” was the question that impulsively came to mind—Tristan was just lucky that he managed not to blurt it out. “Is it just the vapes? Is there another form I need to know about?”

Owynn shook his head. “Vapes are the most common. But I’ve heard about patches. Like caffeine or nicotine patches. You can wear them under your clothes without giving away that you’re using. I’ve never actually seen those, though.”

Tristan scowled. Vaping had some stigma to it, which somewhat limited the spread, but knowing that there were ways to be more discreet meant that the problem could be even more widespread than he imagined. “Where did you overhear that rumor from?”

“Some guys were talking about it. Apparently, using the patch was pretty popular at the university…”

Owynn was looking more and more antsy with every moment. He was fidgeting, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “Are you sure you’re good for it, man?” he said. “Because I really need it and I’m starting to think you aren’t!”

Tristan made a mental note about the university. “I’m good for it, man. How many times are you gonna make me say it? I’m good for it. Always am.”

“You don’t get it, man. You don’t know. The price is different now!” said Owynn.

Tristan was too fixated on information about VNM. He failed to notice Owynn’s increasing distress, especially when he said, “That’s fine. I got extra today.”

“You don’t—”

“Just answer my questions,” Tristan insisted. “Could you get me a sample?”

Owynn fishes a vape out of his pocket. “This is my last one, bro… It’s gonna cost you extra. And I don’t want to give it over if you’re not good for it.”

“Gods,” Tristan breathed. “Why are you pushing this issue? When have I not paid up?” Whatever was going on, he was glad he had brought extra cash today. If he’d known Owynn was going to be so pushy, he would have brought even more.

He reached out and snatched the vape from Owynn’s hand. He stowed it in his pocket and said, “I’ll give you enough to make sure you can get another one.”

“It’s not that easy to get!” Owynn scowled. “The next shipment isn’t due until tomorrow!”

Tristan perked up. “What else do you know?” he said. “Do you know where the next change is going to happen? Do you know who’s going to be receiving the drugs?”

Owynn gave Tristan the details. They were scant, but Tristan was pretty sure he could work with them. “That’s all I know, man. That’s all I know!” said Owynn. “Can I get my VNM back?”

Tristan wasn’t listening. He was already turning the possibilities over in his head. He retrieved the wad of cash from his pocket and shoved it into Owynn’s chest. “I have to go,” he said. He had to get back to Ravi and Daniel as soon as possible to plan how to bust the upcoming drug deal.

“You haven’t paid yet!” Owynn called out. He sounded downright desperate as he tried to chase after Tristan. Unfortunately for him, Tristan was faster.

“Count the cash! I’m pretty sure there’s enough there to cover everything!” Tristan shouted as he dashed out of the alley.

“That’s not what I meant!” was the last thing Tristan heard from Owynn before he was out on the street. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but he didn’t dwell on it. He needed to get to Ravi and Daniel.