Ty stood in the middle of Noah's surprisingly modern bathroom, heart still beating a pace faster from the man waiting on the other side of the door.
The space was unexpectedly clean and well-maintained—white tiled walls, a large walk-in shower with multiple heads, and soft overhead lighting that made the underground facility feel almost normal.
He dragged a hand down his face, trying to steady his racing pulse.
This is insane. I'm trapped underground with a mutated warlord who doesn't even remember me? Fuck! How am I supposed to get out of this shit!?
He peeled off the sweat-soaked black shirt, letting it drop to the floor with a damp thud.
His reflection stared back from the mirror: lean but powerfully built from years of survival.
Defined abs glistened with sweat down to his sharp hip lines.
Messy brown hair stuck to his forehead, and his blue eyes looked haunted.
Ty shoved his pants and underwear down, stepping out of them. Naked, he twisted the shower handle. A powerful stream of hot water hit his skin, and he couldn't stop the low groan that escaped his throat.
It had been so long—weeks of cold rivers were the norm for him when he lived out in the wild.
This was pure luxury.
Steam rapidly filled the stall as he tilted his head back, letting the heat pour over his shoulders, down his chest, and across his abs.
His muscles slowly unclenched.
For a few blissful minutes, his mind wandered.
I need a plan. That bolted door… it has to be important. Maybe weapons, maybe records from before the outbreak. If I can get access, I might find out what really happened to Noah.
Escape seemed impossible right now, but staying meant playing this dangerous game. And after today—Jax's easy flirting, Rafe's warnings, Noah's cold, dead smirk haunting him like some ghost from the past—he wasn't sure which scared him more.
The bathroom door opened.
Ty's eyes flew open. Through the thick fog of steam, a tall, imposing silhouette appeared.
Clothes hit the floor one by one—tactical vest, shirt, pants. Then Noah stepped into the shower, completely naked.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" Ty snapped, pressing back against the tiled wall. Water streamed down his face.
"Get out! I'm fucking naked—go wait outside!"
Noah ignored him. Hot water struck his massive frame, tracing every ridge of muscle, every jagged scar along his neck, shoulder, and torso.
The black veins beneath his pale skin were visible, pulsing and writhing like living insects had crawled into his skin.
His deep brown eyes with those eerie red flecks locked onto Ty with predatory focus.
Ty's heart slammed against his ribs. "Nade—stop. This isn't funny. Get the fuck out of here right now."
The black veins suddenly flared darker, spiking aggressively across Noah's chest and up his throat.
His muscles tensed, shoulders rolling as if fighting some storm.
The mutation looked painful, unstable. Noah took another step forward, water streaming between them.
Ty's back hit the wall fully. "Don't—"
In a blur of motion, Noah closed the distance.
One large hand captured both of Ty's wrists and slammed them above his head against the slick tiles.
At the same moment, Noah's other hand slid behind Ty's head, cushioning it protectively so it wouldn't crack against the hard surface.
Their bodies collided—wet, naked skin sliding hotly together under the pouring water, almost blinding Ty.
Ty gasped sharply.
Noah's body was like a furnace: dense muscle, terrifying strength, and the unmistakable press of his thick cock against Ty's hip.
"Fuck—let go!" Ty struggled, but it was useless. Noah's grip was iron. "You used to be my friend, Noah! The real you would never do this. I don't even swing that way—get off me!"
The aggressive spiking of the black veins began to slow. They calmed, receding beneath Noah's skin as a visible wave of relief washed over him.
Noah's eyes half-closed. He exhaled a long, shaky breath, forehead dropping to rest against Ty's shoulder.
For several heartbeats, the Noah simply stood there, bodies pressed flush, letting the hot water pour over them both.
The constant war inside his mutated flesh had quieted.
"You… calm it," Noah murmured roughly against Ty's wet skin, voice low and gravelly. "No one else does that."
Ty froze, breathing hard. Their chests rose and fell together. He could feel every inch of Noah—the hard pulse of muscle, the texture of scars, the heat radiating from his skin. It was overwhelming. Terrifying. And wierdly arousing.
"This is wrong," Ty whispered, voice cracking. "You don't even remember me and now you'reacting like i'm somehow the only fucker in this place to calm you? Go touch some other dude and leave me alone."
Noah lifted his head. Those dark brown eyes bored into Ty's blue ones, dark with hunger and something deeper.
He didn't speak. Instead, he lunged forward and claimed Ty's mouth in a brutal, possessive kiss.
It wasn't gentle. It fact it was quite the opposite.
Noah's lips crashed against his, hot and demanding. His tongue pushed past Ty's lips, tasting, dominating, devouring him under the relentless spray of water that doused their body.
The hand behind Ty's head tightened, angling him perfectly as Noah deepened the kiss, grinding their bodies together.
Steam swirled thickly around them, water streaming down their joined forms—over Ty's lean abs and Noah's powerful, scarred chest.
Ty made a muffled sound of protest that quickly melted into something else. His wrists flexed uselessly in Noah's grip.
The kiss went on and on—filthy, hungry, consuming—until Ty's head spun and his knees began to buckle.
When Noah finally pulled back, just enough to let them breathe, his lips were swollen and his eyes burned with raw possession.
Water dripped from his dark hair onto Ty's face.
"If I don't remember you," Noah growled, voice rough with a newfound calm. "make me."
Ty stared up at him, chest heaving, lips still stinging from Noah's rough tongue pushing past all his barriers with agressive force, mind a chaotic storm of fear, anger, and unwanted desire.