He opened the passenger door and climbed in, the familiar smell of motor oil and old leather wrapping around him like always. He dropped his bag between his feet and reached for the seatbelt, trying to keep his face neutral even though his body still buzzed from the office and his mind raced with everything that had happened today. Khalil was already talking before Kota even got the door shut.
"Got some good news for you, kiddo," his dad said, voice booming with that proud energy he only got when a deal closed right. He put the truck in drive and eased out of the parking lot, one hand on the wheel, the other gesturing like he was already picturing the handshake. "Ran into a buddy of mine at the supply yard this afternoon. Solid guy. Name's Eli Renegen. We've been closing big orders together for months now, and he finally invited us over. Says his setup at home is perfect for showing you the ropes on how real networking works."
Kota's heart dropped straight into his stomach like a stone. The name hit him hard. Renegen. He felt the blood drain from his face, fingers freezing on the seatbelt buckle. Riley Renegen. The platinum-haired junior with the legendary ass who had knelt in the hallway begging for a taste, the same one who had cornered him at his locker with those desperate eyes and that "family discount" line about his dad's construction deals. Kota's mouth went dry. He swallowed once, twice, trying to keep his voice steady even though his pulse was suddenly hammering in his ears.
He turned in the seat, voice coming out shakier than he wanted. "Did… did he say he had a son named Riley Renegen?"
Khalil lit up like someone had flipped a switch, big grin splitting his face as he glanced over. "Yeah! That's the one. Riley. Kid's about your age, senior like you. Eli was bragging on him the whole time we were loading the truck. Said the boy's got real hustle. You two friends? That'd make this even better."
Kota gulped hard, the sound loud in his own ears. Friends. The word felt ridiculous after everything. After Riley dropping to his knees in the hallway, after the group chat exploding with videos of Kota's cock and endless begging messages, after Riley promising to laser everything smooth and prep for hours just for a chance. Kota forced a vague shrug, staring out the windshield so his dad would not see the panic in his eyes.
"In a way," he muttered, keeping it as neutral as possible. "We… know each other."
Khalil nodded, satisfied, already turning the truck toward their neighborhood. "Good. Real good. We're heading over there soon as we get home and you freshen up. Eli wants to show you around the garage, talk shop, maybe let you shadow some of the younger guys on the crew. Perfect chance to learn how real men build something solid."
Kota's stomach twisted tighter. "Wait. I thought you were heading straight to the site after picking me up. You said graveyard shift tonight, right? Overtime on that big commercial job?"
Khalil waved it off with one hand, laughing like it was nothing. "Nah, I swapped with Ramirez. He owes me anyway. I'll do the graveyard instead. Tonight's more important. I want you learning from Eli's son. Kid's your age and already running social media pages for the company, pulling in real numbers. Eli says the boy's got thousands of followers, turning those videos into actual sales leads. That's the future, Kota. Hard work plus smart moves. I raised you to be one of those young hard-working men, and this is how you level up."
Kota sank deeper into the passenger seat, the worn leather creaking under him as he slid down until the seatbelt cut across his chest. His mind spun fast, flashing through every single memory he wished he could erase. Riley on his knees in the hallway, whispering "just the tip, please," Riley in the group chat fighting with everyone over who got to suck him first, Riley texting him later that same day with pictures of his freshly lasered ass and a plug already in. And now his dad, the same dad who lectured every night about "real men don't shake their asses like sluts," was driving him straight to Riley's house like it was some golden opportunity. The irony burned.
Khalil kept talking, voice warm and proud, completely clueless. "Eli showed me some of the clips on his phone. Kid films short videos, talks about tools, safety gear, that kind of thing. Gets sponsors, makes the company look good. Smart. Real entrepreneurial spirit. You could pick up tips like that, maybe even start something yourself. I always knew you had it in you. Between your grades and now this connection, you're set. No loans, no dead-end jobs. That's what I've been working for."
Kota nodded along, mumbling "yeah" and "sounds good" at the right moments, but inside his head it was pure chaos. He knew exactly what kind of "social media" Riley ran. The underground stuff. The mirror selfies in tiny shorts that rode up over those planetary cheeks, the twerk videos that got millions of views in the femboy corners of the net, the private stories where Riley begged for bigger toys and tagged the rare tops left in the world. Riley was not filming tool reviews. He was the tool review. And now Khalil wanted Kota to "learn from him." The same Riley who had pantsed him in front of half the school and then offered to ride him in the janitor's closet. The same Riley whose dad was apparently best buddies with Khalil over construction bids.
Kota pressed his forehead against the cool window glass, watching the strip malls and fast-food signs blur past. His cock, still half-hard from the office, twitched again at the memory of Riley's begging, but the dread drowned it out fast. He could already picture the scene: walking into Riley's house, Khalil clapping Eli on the back, the two dads talking quotas while Riley shot him that knowing smirk from across the room. Riley would find a way to corner him, probably in the basement or the garage, whispering about how perfect it was that their dads were friends now. "Family discount, remember?" And Kota would have to smile and nod and pretend everything was normal while his dad bragged about raising "hard-working men."
The truck rolled to a stop at a red light. Khalil glanced over, still smiling. "You'll like the kid. Eli says he's polite, keeps the house clean, helps with the younger siblings. Good example. Exactly the kind of influence I want for you."
Kota sank even lower in the seat, knees bumping the glove box. He could feel the sigh building in his chest, heavy and exhausted. All the pieces clicked together in the worst way possible. Riley's dad closing deals with Khalil. The sudden invitation. The "learn from my son" line. It was too perfect, too convenient, and Kota knew the truth underneath it all. Riley was not polite. Riley was the one who had knelt in public and offered to swallow him whole. Riley was the one whose ass clapped louder than thunder and whose group chat still blew up every time Kota walked past. And now Khalil, the man who hated "ass-shakers" more than anything, was driving him straight into the lion's den thinking it was career day.
Kota closed his eyes for a second, the truck's engine rumbling under him like distant thunder. He let out a long, quiet breath.
Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk