Kota shifted in his seat, Gideon's head still resting heavy on his shoulder. The van hummed along the dark streets, the broken window letting in a steady stream of cool night air that made the naked femboy beside him shiver slightly in his sleep. Kota reached for his phone, then paused. He had no data. The fight with Davion, the recording, the whole bodyguard fiasco, he needed to text Theo before any of that hit the internet and his boyfriend found out from someone else.
"Hey, Mort," Kota said, keeping his voice low. "What's the data plan situation? I need to send some messages."
Mort's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, his reflection scowling. "We aren't made of fucking money. Use the hotspot, but don't stream anything. And don't download anything. And don't use too much. We've got like two gigabytes left for the month."
"Alright, what's the password?"
Mort's scowl deepened. He didn't answer for a long moment, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. When he finally spoke, the words came out through gritted teeth. "cocks4all. No capitals. No spaces. All lowercase."
Kota burst out laughing. The sound was loud enough to make Gideon stir against his shoulder, murmuring something about the void before settling back into sleep. "cocks4all? Seriously? Did you come up with that?"
Mort's head snapped around so fast his blunt bob swung like a pendulum. "I did NOT make that name. It was Corey. Obviously it was Corey. Do I look like the kind of person who would name a hotspot 'cocks4all'?"
From the trunk space, Corey's voice rang out with cheerful pride. "Guilty as charged! Thought it was clever. Inclusive. Welcoming. Lets everyone know exactly what kind of van they're connecting to."
"It's a security risk," Mort muttered. "Anyone can guess that password. It's basically an open network."
"Anyone who guesses that password deserves the free wifi, Morty. That's my philosophy."
Kota shook his head, still chuckling, and connected to the hotspot. The password worked immediately. He opened his messages and started typing to Theo.
[11:47 PM] Kota: Hey. You still awake?
[11:47 PM] Theo: (´ω｀) Darling! I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me. How was the rest of the concert? Did Corey behave himself?
[11:48 PM] Kota: Corey never behaves himself. But the show was good. Really good. Something happened though. A guy tried to fight me in the parking lot. Turns out he was Magnus's brother. Remember Magnus? From the school bathroom?
[11:48 PM] Theo: (´⊙ω⊙`) You got in a FIGHT?! Are you hurt?! Do I need to come get you?! I can be there in twenty minutes. Gerald can drive. Say the word.
[11:49 PM] Kota: I'm fine. Won the fight. But people recorded it and now Corey's telling everyone I'm the band's mysterious bodyguard with a dark past as muscle for hire. Apparently I'm famous now.
[11:49 PM] Theo: ...I'm sorry, did you say you're a BODYGUARD now? (;・∀・)
[11:50 PM] Kota: Apparently. Corey made up this whole backstory on the spot. Said I worked as an enforcer before I joined the band. The crowd ate it up. Now I have to appear at their next show in San Antonio in a couple months.
[11:50 PM] Theo: Kota. Darling. My love. You cannot simply text me that you became a famous bodyguard with a mysterious past and expect me to be normal about it. (´・ω・｀)
[11:51 PM] Kota: I'm not happy about it either. But it's good for the band. They might actually get some real fans out of this. Corey says the difference between a nobody and a niche artist is snack money.
[11:51 PM] Theo: Snack money?
[11:52 PM] Kota: Don't ask. Hey, are you free tomorrow? I was thinking maybe we could hang out. After everything tonight I kind of just want to see you.
[11:52 PM] Theo: (´;ω;｀) I'm so sorry darling. I can't tomorrow. My father is coming back from his business trip in Germany and he said something urgent needs to be discussed. I don't know what it is but he sounded very serious on the phone.
[11:53 PM] Kota: Don't apologize. It's fine. Family stuff comes first.
[11:53 PM] Theo: I really wish it didn't. I'd much rather be with you. But I promise I'll make it up to you. Monday. At school. I'll reward you properly for being so understanding. (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄
[11:54 PM] Kota: Can't wait. Love you.
[11:54 PM] Theo: Love you too, darling. (♡´ω｀♡) Get home safe. Text me when you're in bed. And tell Corey if he keeps making up backstories about my boyfriend I'll have him suspended.
[11:55 PM] Kota: lol I'll pass that along. Goodnight Theo.
[11:55 PM] Theo: Goodnight my love. Dream of me.
Kota was smiling at his phone when a pair of arms snaked around his shoulders from behind. Corey's chin hooked over his shoulder, his white hair tickling Kota's cheek, his bare chest still warm from his extended cuddling session with Toby.
"Oooo," Corey cooed, his eyes scanning the text messages with absolutely no shame. "Looks like you guys are getting serioussss. 'Love you.' 'Love you too.' 'Dream of me.' That's some real romantic shit right there. Never thought I'd see the day our big dicked manager settled down with a principal."
Kota locked his phone and shoved it into his pocket. "Don't you have a Toby to grind on?"
"He's taking a break. Cried too hard. Had to get him some water." Corey's grin was audible in his voice. "But seriously, cutie. You and Theo. It's cute. Gross, but cute. Like a romcom where everyone fucks at the end."
Before Kota could respond, the van rolled to a stop. They had arrived at the apartment building. The familiar brick facade loomed against the night sky, the chain link balconies casting long shadows under the streetlights. Home. Finally.
Kota nudged Gideon gently, his large hand squeezing the femboy's bare shoulder. "Hey. We're here. Time to wake up."
Gideon's dark eyes fluttered open, his expression calm and unfocused. He straightened up slowly, his long hair falling across his face, and looked around the van with quiet confusion.
Mort twisted in the driver's seat, one arm draped over the backrest. "Leave him. Gideon stays up till like 2 a.m. anyway. He likes sleeping in the van. Says it inspires his poetry. Something about the cold metal and the existential dread of empty parking lots."
"Is that safe?" Kota asked, frowning. "Sleeping in a van with a broken window?"
Mort shrugged. "Gideon's a big guy. Six foot eight. Nobody's exactly looking to rob the beat up old black van with the shattered window and the smell of cum wafting out of it. Plus, he's got a knife in his boot. He'll be fine."
Kota glanced at Gideon, who had already closed his eyes again and leaned his head against the window, apparently content to spend the night in the van. "Fair enough."
He stepped out of the van, his legs sore, his back aching, his nose throbbing. The cool night air felt incredible against his face. Behind him, Mort climbed out of the driver's seat and stretched, his crop sweatshirt riding up to show a strip of pale midriff and the top of his plump ass. Toby followed, completely naked except for a thin blanket wrapped around his shoulders. The blanket did nothing to hide his soft, curvy frame, and the cold air made him shiver violently, his freckled skin breaking out in goosebumps as he shuffled toward the building entrance on bare feet.
Kota stared at him. "Why the fuck didn't you wear something? Your clothes are literally in the van. I saw them."
Toby's teeth chattered. "I'm sorry. I couldn't find my leggings. Corey threw them somewhere during the fan thing and I looked everywhere but they were gone and I didn't want to make everyone wait so I just grabbed the blanket. I'm sorry. I know I should have looked harder. I'm really sorry."
Kota sighed. He was too tired to argue, too tired to lecture, too tired to do anything except solve the problem in front of him. He walked over to Toby, bent down, and scooped the shivering drummer into his arms in one smooth motion. Toby let out a startled squeak, his hands flying up to wrap around Kota's neck, the blanket falling away to expose his plump, cum streaked ass to the night air.
"Kota! You don't have to carry me! I'm heavy! I'm sorry! Put me down!"
"You're not heavy," Kota said, walking toward the building entrance. "And you're freezing. Just hold on."
Toby buried his face in Kota's chest, his ginger hair tickling Kota's chin, his soft body trembling with cold and embarrassment. "Thank you. I'm sorry. Thank you."
Kota carried him through the lobby, past the empty front desk and the flickering vending machine, and set him down gently in front of the elevator. Toby wobbled on his bare feet, clutching the blanket around himself, his face bright red.
"Thank you, Kota. Really. I'm sorry for being a problem."
"You're not a problem, Toby. Just wear clothes next time."
The elevator doors slid open. Mort was already inside, leaning against the back wall with his arms crossed. Toby shuffled in beside him, still shivering, and Kota stepped in last. The buttons lit up. Third floor for Kota. Eleventh floor for the others.
The elevator hummed upward. The doors opened on the third floor with a soft ding. Kota stepped out into the familiar hallway, the beige walls, the scuffed baseboards, the faint smell of someone's leftover dinner.
"Night, Kota," Corey called from the elevator, his voice carrying that teasing lilt. "Sweet dreams. Think of me."
The doors slid shut before Kota could respond. He walked down the hall to his apartment, fished his keys out of his pocket, and let himself inside. The living room was dark and quiet. No Khalil. His dad's work boots weren't by the door. The note on the kitchen counter confirmed it, late shift, back after midnight.
Kota smiled. Good. He didn't have to explain the broken nose, the torn slacks, the hickeys he was sure were forming on his neck, or why he smelled like ten different kinds of femboy. He didn't have to explain anything.
He walked to his room, the familiar creak of the floorboards grounding him, and collapsed face first onto his bed. The mattress groaned under his weight. The pillow smelled like home. He was still fully clothed, still wearing the rumpled black button up and the torn gray slacks, but he didn't have the energy to change. His eyes closed. His breathing slowed. The events of the night, the concert, the fans, the fight, the bodyguard interview, the pile driver, the carry fuck, all of it blurred together into a warm, exhausted haze.
He was asleep within seconds.