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Zee turned on his stool, leaning back against the bar, legs spread. Ishir wondered if he knew what he looked like. If he was aware of the interested glances he was getting from other Alphas. His brown skin glowed, his face beautiful—the thin slit of his eyes, the square cut of his face, lips plump and a little wet.
A savage want roared up in him suddenly. It was a starved, blind creature, begging for blood, for skin, for touch.
Ishir averted his eyes, pushing the feeling down. He should be used to the bouts of pathetic longing, but they took him by surprise every time.
“That guy,” Zee said.
Ishir had to take a few seconds to remember what they were even doing. He followed Zee’s gaze to the Alpha he was unsubtly pointing at with his chin.
Zee hadn’t chosen the largest guy in the room, but it was a near thing. Ishir burned as his face flushed. It wasn’t like there was any problem in preferring to bottom, but there was something deeply awkward about Zee having so easily clocked his inclination.
The guy was good-looking, at least. Brown skin the same shade as Zee’s, although his hair was longer, in a high-top style. His shoulders were massive, biceps straining his shirt, jaw solid and square.
Ishir locked eyes with Zee. The dare on his friend’s face was obvious, sparking the very core of his competitive nature. “Fine.”
Ishir got up and made his way to where the Alpha was. It only hit him then how absolutely humiliating it would be if he struck out.
It was too late to turn around.
“Hey,” he greeted as he got close, making sure his voice didn’t waver nervously. He was usually pretty direct in these situations—other Alphas seemed to appreciate that approach. Normally he wasn’t being watched by his best friend, though.
The Alpha blinked at him, his eyes widening a little in interest. “Hey.”
“I’m Ishir.”
“Jack.” He stuck his hand out. It was warm and calloused, just like his own.
“You here with someone?” Ishir asked.
Jack smiled, slow and hot. “Nope.”
“You wanna dance?”
Jack knocked his drink back and held out his hand.
Ishir took it, charmed. He let himself be led to the dance floor, thrumming with anticipation.
It’d been a long time since he’d jerked off—hadn’t set up any sort of reward system during camp or the preseason. It had been even longer since he’d been fucked, and the phantom feeling of the last time he slept with someone seeped through his body.
He hadn’t realised how badly he needed the release until that very moment.
Ishir didn’t know why he did it, but he kept Jack and him at the edge of the dance floor, in Zee’s line of sight. Zee probably wasn’t even watching, had maybe even gone to the hotel, but that didn’t stop Ishir from putting himself on display.
Jack pulled him close from the start, swaying with the rhythm pulsing in the air. Ishir lost track of what he’d been thinking about, conquered by the wants of his body. He was part of the beating crowd, just one cell in a string of many, a bloody muscle feeding a greater whole.
Jack swept his large hands across Ishir’s back, gripping his hips. His body was solid, hot, sweat gathering on his thick neck and pooling south.
Ishir wanted to lick it up. He wanted to take the Alpha somewhere quiet and intimate and eat him bite by bite.
Jack leaned down, lips brushing Ishir’s ear. “Want another drink?”
Ishir nodded.
They snaked to the bar. Ishir’s veins throbbed at the sight of Zee still there, sitting in the same spot. Their eyes locked. Zee looked away.
Without quite meaning to. Ishir slotted himself beside Zee, although he kept his attention on Jack.
They ordered water and a rum and coke each, leaning towards each other after collecting them.
