Jason had no idea what was happening.
One second, it was just another Bear Bash—sweaty bodies, good music, drinks flowing.
The next?
It was something else.
The air was thick, electric, humming with something primal. It crawled over his skin, under it, deep in his fucking bones.
And Tank—
Tank was at the center of it all.
A storm of bodies surrounded him, hands grabbing, mouths pressing, men moaning like they were starving.
Jason wanted to move, to pull himself away, but his body betrayed him.
Heat rolled over him in waves, his skin buzzing, his head swimming.
And then—
Caleb touched his arm.
Jason turned—his boyfriend’s pupils were blown wide, his lips parted, his breath ragged.
“Jase,” Caleb groaned, gripping his shirt, his whole body trembling. “I—I can’t stop—”
Jason barely had time to process that before Caleb kissed him.
It was hungry. Frenzied.
Jason should have pulled back.
But he couldn’t.
Because suddenly, everything felt too good.
Heat surged through him, his body throbbing in time with the pulsing music, the pounding moans, the worship happening around them.
And then—
Everything blurred.
---
8 – After the Storm
Jason woke up sweating.
His skin was sticky, his body aching, his head pounding.
The first thing he saw was Caleb, sprawled beside him on the leather couch in The Den’s VIP lounge, his chest still heaving.
The second thing?
Tank.
Still shirtless, still covered in bite marks and sweat, leaning back in a chair like a king surveying his domain.
Jason groaned, sitting up. His body still tingled, the memory of heat and mouths and hands still fresh in his mind.
“The fuck was that?” Jason rasped.
Tank smirked, swirling the last of his whiskey in his glass. “Felt good, didn’t it?”
Jason stared at him. “Dude, that wasn’t normal.”
Tank’s smirk deepened. “Who said it was?”
Jason wiped his face, trying to process. “What the fuck did you do to us?”
Tank leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. The pendant gleamed in the low light.
“It’s not just me,” Tank said, voice low, steady. “It’s him.”
Jason frowned. “Him?”
“Atlas.”
Jason’s stomach turned. “The guy you fucked?”
Tank grinned. “More than that. I worshipped him.”
Jason’s breath hitched.
Tank leaned back, tilting his head like he was remembering it.
“You don’t understand,” he murmured. “It wasn’t just sex. It was… spiritual. Like he opened something inside me. Like he poured something into me.”
Jason’s jaw clenched. “That’s not normal.”
Tank chuckled. “No. It’s better.”
Jason’s eyes flicked to the pendant around Tank’s neck.
His stomach twisted.
“That thing,” Jason muttered. “You started acting like this after you put that thing on.”
Tank raised an eyebrow. “You think it’s the pendant?”
Jason nodded, heartbeat pounding. “Take it off.”
Tank laughed. “Come on, Jase—”
“Take it off.”
For a second, something shifted in Tank’s expression.
Something calculating.
Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he reached behind his neck and unfastened it.
The moment the pendant was off his skin—
Jason saw it.
Tank twitched, his body shuddering, muscles bulging for a split second too long before settling. His skin seemed to darken, veins pulsing beneath the surface with a faint, bruised glow.
And his eyes—
For just a second—
Black.
Not dark brown.
Not shadowed.
Void.
Jason’s breath hitched. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Tank blinked.
And just like that—
It was gone.
His body settled. His skin looked normal again. His eyes were just Tank’s eyes.
Tank glanced down at the pendant in his hand. “Huh.”
Jason’s stomach twisted. “Dude.”
Tank looked at him.
And smirked.
“Guess you were right.”
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