The burnt eggs went straight into the trash with a hiss of defeat.
Khalil stood over the sink, scraping the blackened remains of what had been a perfectly good breakfast into the bin, muttering under his breath about distractions and timing.
The kitchen smelled like smoke and onions, the faint haze still lingering near the stove.
But when he turned back around, Kota was already on his feet, his empty plate stacked neatly by the sink, his hand curled around the hundred dollar bill in his pocket.
“Thanks for breakfast, Dad.
I’m off to buy the chocolate,” Kota said, adjusting the collar of his gray sweater.
Khalil waved him off with the spatula, still scraping at the pan.
“Go on.
And don’t spend it all on fancy truffles.
Maybe get something for yourself too.
Something nice.”
Kota grinned and headed for the front door.
The air in the hallway was cool and clean compared to the smoke in the kitchen, and he found himself walking with an actual pep in his step.
The sun was brighter than it had been in weeks, the pale February light catching on the edges of the windows and making everything look soft and new.
It was Valentine’s Day, and for the first time in his life, he had two boyfriends to spoil and a father who was actually trying.
The world felt lighter.
Freer.
Almost normal.
He pressed the button for the elevator and waited, his mind already running through the candy store’s selection.
Theo liked the fancy truffles, the ones with the gold dust and the raspberry centers.
Sebastian would probably prefer something traditional, maybe the dark chocolate sea salt caramels that came in the little brown boxes with the wax paper.
He could already picture the way Sebastian’s eyes would light up when he opened his gift, the nervous little laugh, the flood of overly formal thank yous.
And Theo would probably tear up, because Theo always teared up when someone did something romantic for him.
The elevator chimed.
The doors slid open, and Kota’s smile dropped instantly.
The car was empty, but the floor indicator showed it had come from somewhere above.
He stepped inside, pressed the button for the ground floor, and watched the doors slide shut.
Then the elevator lurched, not downward, but upward.
Eleven.
Someone had pressed the button on the eleventh floor.
Kota closed his eyes and let out a slow, measured breath.
The doors opened again.
Corey stood in the hallway, his white hair a wild mess, his baggy gray jeans riding low on his hips, a lazy grin already spreading across his face.
He was wearing a cropped band tee that showed off his narrow waist and the dramatic flare of his hips, and his plump ass looked especially pronounced in the dim hallway light.
The moment he saw Kota, his eyes lit up like a predator spotting prey.
“Heyy cutie,” Corey purred, stepping into the elevator with the easy confidence of someone who had never once been rejected in a way that mattered.
He positioned himself directly in front of Kota, close enough that their chests almost touched, and the doors slid shut behind him.
Kota’s eye twitched.
“Corey.”
The elevator started its descent, the machinery groaning softly.
Corey leaned in even closer, close enough that Kota could smell the faint vanilla of his body spray mixed with something earthier, like weed and cheap cologne.
His voice dropped into that syrupy, flirtatious register that he always used when he wanted something.
Big day today.
Valentine’s Day.
The most romantic day of the year.
And I was wondering…” His hand came up, fingers walking up the front of Kota’s sweater like little spider legs.
“Did you get something for your darling ol’ Corey?”
Kota’s jaw tightened.
“Nothing for you, Corey.”
Corey’s face crumpled into an exaggerated pout, his lower lip jutting out, his eyes going wide and glassy.
“Awww, why not?
I’ve been so good.
I’ve been thinking about you all week.
I even dreamed about you last night.
You were wearing a suit and you bent me over a piano and—”
“Because I’m only getting stuff for my boyfriends,” Kota cut him off, his voice flat.
“And you’re not my boyfriend.”
Corey’s pout deepened, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes that suggested he wasn’t actually hurt.
“I could be your boyfriend too, cutie.
Just say the word.
I’m very low maintenance.
I only need attention, affection, and a daily dose of that monster cock.
That’s it.
I’m practically a bargain.”
Kota rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck.
“You’re not my idea of boyfriend material, Corey.”
Corey’s grin widened, sharp and knowing.
He tilted his head, his white hair falling across one eye, and his voice shifted into something high and breathy, a terrible imitation of a certain type of British accent.
“Ohh?
And what is your idea of boyfriend material, cutie?
You like the submissive British kind, don’t you?
The ones who stutter and blush and beg prettily?” He pressed his hands to his chest and fluttered his eyelashes, his voice rising to a ridiculous pitch.
“Ooh~~ kotaaa~ don’t fuck me in this elevator..
What if someone sees us?
We could get in trouble..
I’m just a poor little principal who doesn’t know any better..”
Kota stared at him with an expression of profound exhaustion.
“You’re not even doing the accent right.”
Corey ignored him, doubling down on the act.
He draped himself against the elevator wall, one hand pressed to his forehead like a Victorian maiden about to faint.
“Oh, darling, your cock is simply enormous.
I don’t know how I’ll ever walk again after you’re done with me.
Please, be gentle, or don’t, I’m rather torn.” He peeked out from between his fingers, still grinning.
“That turn you on?
You hard yet?
Come on, put a ring on me, cutie.
I’ll wear it on my cock if you want.”
“How did you even know I was stepping out?”
Corey dropped the act, his grin settling into something more natural.
“Left some of my weed at the sex cult apartment.
Needed to grab it quickly.
When I saw the elevator going down, I just had a feeling.
Call it fate.
Call it destiny.
Call it me pressing the button and hoping for the best.” He shrugged, his massive ass shifting with the motion.
“Turns out the universe wanted us to have this moment.”
“Of course,” Kota muttered, staring at the descending floor numbers.
“Of course you left your weed in the sex cult apartment.”
“It’s a good apartment.
Lots of space.
Good vibes.
You should come by sometime.
We could break in the new couch.
I’ve been told it’s very comfortable.”
“I’ll pass.”
The elevator chimed again, and the doors slid open onto the ground floor.
They both stepped out into the lobby, the cold morning air rushing in from the street.
Corey fell into step beside Kota, his hips swaying with that obnoxious, mesmerizing rhythm.
“Need a ride?” Corey asked, his voice dropping back into that flirtatious purr.
“I’ve got the van.
It’s got a bed in the back.
Well, it’s got blankets and a really stained mattress, but same thing.
We could make a quick detour.
You buy your fancy valentine shit, then you come back and give me a different kind of treat.”
“Id rather walk 500 miles,” Kota said, not breaking stride.
(LOOOORD IM ONEEEE- my fault)
Corey laughed, bright and unbothered, and fell back a step.
“Your loss, cutie!
I’ll be thinking about you while you walk your pretty little ass all the way to the candy store.
Don’t forget to pick me up something anyway!
I like the ones with the caramel inside!”
Kota didn’t look back.
He pushed through the front doors and out into the February morning, the cold air sharp against his face.
The sun was still bright, the sky still clear, but the pep in his step had faded somewhat.
Corey had a way of doing that.
He could deflate even the happiest mood with a single inappropriate comment and a well-timed hip sway.
Five hundred miles, he thought.
Maybe more.
Anything to avoid getting into that van.