Two weeks before the event
When the calendar flips to a new year, the months start slipping by faster. First it's January, then suddenly it's July, and before you realize it, October is here. Blink once, and you're saying goodbye to it.
Days flew. Lucas felt better and better, bursting with energy. Too much energy. He was jittery, hyperactive, grinding his teeth without noticing.
He had been opening the shop regularly for days, but still had no clients. He knew it was normal, but sometimes he doubted—no one was even walking down his street.
He shook the thought away and remembered Valentina's request: pick her up so they could talk about what had been happening.
When it was time to close, he stacked a few boxes lying around and called Andrea to tell him he'd be late. Andrea had asked him not to come home at odd hours. At first he hated the idea, but later had no choice but to accept, not without insisting that, even if they spent time apart, Lucas had to take his medication.
______________________________________________________
Across the city, what once seemed tragic now felt almost manageable. Stress didn't reach her—at least not when it came to work.
She couldn't stop looking at her watch. She could've checked her computer screen instead, but she had this habit she couldn't control. Soon it would be time to leave, and he'd be there waiting.
While finishing one last email, her phone lit up. He was already outside. She needed five more minutes, so she texted back: wait in the parking lot.
On her way out, whispers reached her from the account guys. The office wasn't big, nor crowded, but the tall ceilings made every sound echo.
She rushed outside and found him still wearing his helmet.
—Were you standing out front? —Valentina asked.
—Yeah. But I moved after your message —Lucas replied.
The whispers came again, footsteps closing in.
—Valentina, aren't you going to introduce us to your boyfriend? —someone teased.
Exactly what she didn't want. It had happened before, and she knew more questions would follow.
—He's just my best friend, guys —she said.
No one argued, but whistles and jokes followed, asking for the number of "the guy with the helmet." She cursed herself. This was a meeting spot for too many people. Next time, she'd pick another place.
They headed toward HB Central Station. It was only seven p.m., so the food court downstairs was still open. After eating, she could head straight to her train home.
When they parked, she jumped off quickly. Her hands itched, her stomach knotted with awkward noises.
—What's wrong? Do I disgust you or what? —Lucas asked.
—What's your problem? Why are you talking to me like that? —she shot back.
He didn't get it. They were supposed to meet, talk, fix things. They loved each other. They never hid anything.
They picked burgers. It had been forever since their last. His idea—burgers always brought them back together.
She ordered for both, knew his favorites, but neither spoke much. Silence lingered until the end, like they'd forgotten how to start.
He tried first. Usually she ate slowly, ordering something extra while she lingered. Not tonight. As soon as she finished her burger, his phone buzzed. Andrea.
—Pills? —Valentina asked.
He'd forgotten. Again. He hadn't told her about the incident, about the scar on Andrea's forehead. It wasn't the right time. Not now.
Outside the restaurant, his phone rang again. The voice on the line made his stomach twist. Shame. He rubbed his face, then his neck, harder, restless.
She knew exactly who it was. Knew he was under pressure. She spotted the tic—his cheek brushing fast against his shoulder, then both hands shoved deep into his pockets.
—I have to go. I'll pick you up Monday. No—call me instead. We'll set up the meeting with Lorenzo —he said, exhaling sharply.
She almost agreed, but:
—No, stay. What's going on? It hasn't even been two hours.
—I'm in a rush. Bye —he muttered, then bolted.
She was left speechless. Anyone would've thought it was an emergency, seeing his desperation. Maybe it was. Either way, she felt ignored.
____________________________________________________________
The whole way home was pure desperation. The need for warmth. Restlessness. Chaotic thoughts of teleporting, of just being there already.
He lived in a block of flats in Dübendorf, a place surrounded by forest.
His parking spot was taken by another bike. He froze. Then fury. Something that belonged to him, used by someone else—it made him explode. Screams, violent, echoing. Passersby turned to stare.
He called the concierge, demanded answers, threatened him with consequences.
After hanging up, his eyes locked on a couple nearby. One of them held a helmet. He stormed over.
—That your bike? —he barked.
—I'm sorry. The space was empty. I thought it wasn't reserved —the man stammered.
—Not reserved? Move your damn bike now or I'll call the cops —Lucas roared.
The stranger fumbled, shaking so badly he didn't notice the keys in his own pocket. Lucas revved his engine in warning. He didn't care about the stares from balconies above. He parked anyway, stomping toward the elevator.
—Mr. Schmidtt, I— —the concierge tried.
—Shut up. I don't need excuses from second-class staff —Lucas spat.
The man silenced, eyes fixed on the floor. Lucas's head pounded. The elevator was crowded. He shoved himself in, forcing space.
At his door, his hands shook, searching frantically for keys. Nothing. His curses grew louder, veins bulging in his neck.
He slammed the door with his fists. Andrea opened, startled, afraid.
Lucas smiled at the sight. His breathing quickened, adrenaline flooding his body. He pushed Andrea inside, slamming the door shut behind him.
His steps were heavy. When nothing stood between them, Andrea felt the bulge press against his stomach.
Lucas grabbed his hair, bit at his ear, his hand locking behind Andrea's neck while the other tore off the towel.
He sniffed him hungrily, sweat dripping down his nose. Andrea licked it without thinking.
Their eyes locked for seconds. Andrea bit his lip, teasing. Lucas clamped his jaw in return.
The scene was tense, dangerous. Their breathing ragged, sharing the same air, until they crashed together in a mess of saliva, tongues, frantic gasps devouring them both.
Andrea tried to climb onto him, but Lucas shoved him down against the furniture, pinning him to suck at his chest.
He slid lower, took him fully in his mouth.
Arms hooked under Andrea's thighs, pulling hard at his hips. He devoured him, pushing deep until his throat closed around him, like he wanted to drink every drop.
When he finally pulled back, Lucas unbuckled his belt.
—Shall we start? —he said with a grin, eyes locked on him.
Thrust after thrust, Andrea couldn't stop screaming. He only wanted to be taken, wrecked, marked by this man who grew more possessive by the second.
—Bite me, Lucas. MARK me! —he cried.
_______________________________________________________
One week before the event
The week rushed by. Another month had started, along with the promises people made themselves keep.
The meeting was again at The Clouds. Valentina hadn't stopped texting him since the last time, even when he called her dramatic. Andrea's discomfort didn't matter to her; this time, she picked him up herself so he couldn't run away.
Lorenzo had seen him before at events, though they'd never spoken. He knew the reputation—both as an executive, and as a lover.
—Lorenzo. Lucas —Valentina greeted with a smile.
—Let's eat on the terrace —Lorenzo suggested.
She wrinkled her nose as a waiter approached with drinks and something else. For a second, her body remembered something she was trying hard to bury.
Lorenzo was faster. He blocked the waiter with a polite smile, leaning toward Lucas.
—Bathroom. Now —he ordered, leaving no room for doubt.
Lucas blinked, confused. Valentina nudged him toward the hallway.
—Go. Do what he says.
Inside, Lorenzo straightened his jacket and whispered under his breath:
—Betas shouldn't smell like that.
Valentina didn't want to seem paranoid, but she knew something was wrong. The answers could only come from Lucas.
When it was over, shame burned in his face. He didn't look at either of them, feeling reduced.
—I don't care, but it was too strong —Lorenzo said.
—I'm sorry, these things…
He was cut short. A presence at his back.
—These things what? —Raffael asked.
Zurich was small. Running into people was normal. Running into him again felt like a curse.
—Here we are again, dear colleagues —Raffael sneered.
—Raffael, leave —Valentina snapped.
Lorenzo and Lucas stayed quiet. She usually kept her composure, but this time her patience thinned.
Raffael froze, thrown off by her tone. She wasn't the same. More confrontational.
Guilt flickered through Lucas. He glanced at Lorenzo, exchanging a look before breaking it. Awkward silence. His foot tapped restlessly.
Raffael smirked, nodded farewell, but didn't go far. He lingered on the terrace.
Lorenzo broke the tension, ordering drinks and diving into the details of the client.
The job was a year-end event, with a chance to build a long-term partnership. The brand? A well-known liquor company.
—You've worked with them before, right? —Valentina asked.
Lucas froze for a couple of seconds.
—Lucas! Hey, where are you? —she called.
—Sorry. Zoned out.
Lorenzo carried on, finally pulling out the invitation. Matte black, golden trim. Valentina brushed the edge; she knew that embroidery.
—What do you think? It was Miguel's idea —Lorenzo said.