Chapter 1: The Slipped Potion
The gym smelled of bleach, sweat, and polyester. Leon hated it, mostly. He hated the grunting, the clanging plates, the pervasive vibe of straightness. But he loved the view. Specifically, the view currently leaning against the counter by the smoothie station: Ethan.
Ethan was toweling off his damp hair, his biceps swelling with the simple motion. A fine sheen of sweat made his tanned skin gleam under the brutal fluorescent lights. He was laughing at something on his phone, a low, easy sound that cut through the thumping bass of the workout playlist. He wore loose grey shorts and a tight navy tee that did nothing to hide the solid wall of his chest. Business major. Aspiring entrepreneur. Probably thought ‘queer’ was a brand of sushi.
Leon swallowed, his mouth dry. He’d been working up to this for a month. A smile, a joke about proper squat form, a lingering touch on a deltoid when demonstrating a stretch. Ethan was always friendly, clapping him on the shoulder with a hand that felt like a heated weight, calling him ‘buddy.’ It was fucking agony.
So, Leon had gotten creative.
His fingertips were stained a faint, shimmering violet from moonpetal dust. The tiny cobalt vial in his locker, nestled between his neon green trainers and a silk scarf, felt like it was vibrating with potential. It wasn’t a true love potion—he wasn’t a monster, just desperately impatient. It was more of an… attentiveness serum. A libido-locator. It would, in theory, strip away inhibitions and redirect existing attraction, bringing latent desires screaming to the surface. He’d tested it on Mrs. Henderson’s cat, who had subsequently mounted a bewildered garden gnome with terrifying vigor. The results seemed promising.
His shift ended in five minutes. Ethan’s post-workout shake ritual was as reliable as a metronome. Chocolate protein powder, a banana, almond milk. Leon’s pulse hammered in his throat, a frantic bird against his skin. He ducked behind his open locker door, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The vial was cool in his palm. He uncorked it.
A single drop, shimmering with a pink, opalescent light, quivered on the lip. It smelled of black cherries and ozone. With a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, he let it fall into the stainless-steel shaker bottle Ethan had just set down. It vanished without a trace.
“Hey, Leon! You off?”
Leon jerked, fumbling the vial back into his locker. Ethan was standing right there, a warm, sweaty presence that filled the space. His blue eyes were crinkled with a smile.“Yeah. Yeah, just… grabbing my stuff,” Leon managed, his voice pitched slightly higher than usual. “Big plans?”
“Eh, gonna crush this, hit the books,” Ethan said, giving the shaker a vigorous shake. The liquid sloshed, a mundane, creamy brown. “Accountancy waits for no man.”
“Thrilling,” Leon said, forcing a playful tone. “Don’t have too much fun.”
Ethan shrugged, that massive shoulder rolling. He brought the shaker to his lips and tilted his head back. Leon watched, mesmerized, as his Adam’s apple bobbed once,