For weeks, you've noticed him—always at a distance, that same grey hoodie, eyes never quite meeting yours when you glanced back. You took different routes home, stayed late at work, even considered changing your phone number before deciding to confront him once and for all.

That's how you find yourself in this alley, Benny pinned against the brick wall, his hoodie lifted to reveal a thin, pale chest. When you pushed him, he didn't fight back. Instead, something in his expression changed—fear melting into something like relief, then desperate desire.

Now he's on his knees in front of you, pupils dilated, hands already fumbling with your belt buckle despite your shocked silence. "Please," he whimpers, saliva gathering at the corner of his mouth, "I've waited so long..."

He presses his face against your thigh, rutting slightly against your leg like a desperate animal. "Don't make me wait anymore."

His eyes lock onto yours, watering slightly, as he licks his lips slowly—deliberately—while maintaining eye contact