“So… That’s the gist of it.” I say.

The woman at the counter gives me a strange look.

“I’d really appreciate anything you might have that uh, isn’t past its expiry date.”

She frowns and tells me to wait a second, which I do.

Yup, I sigh, she definitely knows I don’t have a penis.

Stupid voice that rises when I panic…

God, I hope she doesn’t ask to see my ID… That would be embarrassing.

My gaze wavers to a vending machine before flickering back to the empty counter.

I shrug.

Might as well drown my sorrows in fizzy drinks.

“Hey, cutie.”

I glance upward, to where a guy who’s probably— definitely — older than me by a few years, stares at my figure.

“Can…” I raise a brow, tilt my head. “Can I help you?”

From inside the vending machine, clanks and clicks can be heard, as Ronnie’s drink tumbles down with mine.

The cans land with a rather metallic thump.

“Waiting for someone, are we?” The man asks me, as he leans down and stares at my orange cola and water combo.

“U-um. No?” I say. Straightening up, rising to face him, I clear my throat. “I mean… Kind of. Maybe.”

Damn it, I think. He’s hot. Really hot. Also, those toned arms covered in tattoos… Those blue eyes… That combination of light stubble across his jaw… He’d totally be the type of guy people call—

“Daddy.”

Wait.

Fuck.

Why did his eyes widen?

Why is he smiling?

Did I… Did I just say that out loud?!

I have to apologize.

Like, right now.

“I-I’m—”

The man chuckles.

He leans over and traps me against the vending machine, his elbow rested close to my neck. “I usually go by my first name, boy.” He says, “but I suppose I can make the exception for such a pretty face.”

His breaths fall against my face. And, holy shit, I think. Did he just call me a he?!

…

I think I like this man a lot.

Yes, he deserves a trophy.

He comes closer and nibbles on my earlobe, leaving nothing but whispers behind. “My room’s on the first floor. It’s the tenth to the right, number twenty. I have condoms and lube, and I promise I will suck your dick dry, boy.”

He wraps an arm around my waist.

I stifle a moan.

“Your legs are trembling.” The man huffs. “Are you afraid?”

I shake my head. “N-no,” I blurt. “O-of course not.”

“Good,” he purrs, “because we’re going to have a lot of fun together.”

Footsteps echo across tile.

As the receptionist returns, he pulls away. “Be there in five, boy.” He says. “Don’t be late.”

And then, he is gone.

I walk back to the counter. The receptionist hands me a couple of pills. “Here you go,” she says as she proceeds to explain what is what, ending her phrase with the typical: “If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

I thank her, grab our drinks that had been abandoned to the machine’s rectangular mouth, and walk back to our room.

Okay…

I take a deep breath as I march up the steps leading to the first floor.

What the fuck just happened?