Chapter 1: Three Cops Walk Into a Bar
Jake pushed open the heavy wooden door and the bar’s atmosphere hit him like a fist to the gut. The Oasis wasn’t just any place—it was a living, breathing thing, all sweat and synthwave and the kind of quiet that told you you were crossing a line. The air was thick with the smell of whiskey and the sharp tang of patchouli oil mixing with the faintest whiff of leather and something darker, something that clung to the back of his throat like a promise.
His boots thudded against the sticky floor as he stepped inside, followed by Dale and Mitch close behind. The bassline of some eighties synth-pop track rumbled through his chest, vibrating his bones.
Behind the bar were Donnie and Richie, the three cops knew them well and were always on good terms with them. Jake looked around the room and noticed that the only other people in the bar were three asian men, they looked to be college students.
They were all sat around a table, lit by the dim neon of a peeling jukebox in the corner. The oldest looked to be in his early twenties, with a mess of spiky black hair and a smirk that suggested he knew things Jake didn’t. Another, lean and wiry with a dancer’s grace, was watching the group with hooded eyes, his long hair tied up in a messy bun. The third, broad-shouldered and quiet, just a hint of a smile playing on his lips, his gaze flickering over the three cops with an intensity that made Jake’s skin prickle.
Jake’s pulse kicked up a notch.
He’d never felt anything like this before. The broad shouldered one got up to go get another round of drinks and dropped his wallet. As he bent down to pick it up, his shorts that were too big for him, slide down his legs accidentally, he was not wearing any underwear. His round, smooth butt was exposed to the other 7 men in the bar with him.
His ass flexed slightly as he bent down to grab his wallet before standing upright and sliding his shorts back up. Most of the men in the bar let out low whistles and a few chuckles. The broad shouldered Korean-American college kid, Jakob, stood up abruptly, his face flushed red with embarrassment and arousal. His shirt did nothing to hide the way his cock was already half-hard in his jeans. He cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to regain some semblance of composure.
"Uh... hey," he said, his voice rougher than he intended.
He glanced around, suddenly hyper-aware of every pair of eyes in the bar—or at least, every pair of eyes on him. The two cops’ gazes burned into him, and he swallowed hard.
*Oh fuck. They saw.*
Nikko, the spiky-haired one, let out a low laugh, his dark eyes glinting. "Damn, that was *compelling*." He nudged Shu-Chan, who had been quietly observing the whole thing with a knowing smirk. "You think he drops his wallet *on purpose* sometimes?"
Shu-Chan arched a brow, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. "Only if he wants to get fucked."
Jakob’s breath hitched. Donnie walked from behind the bar over to the front door and locked it. Jake, Dale, Mitch, Nikko, Jakob, Shu-Chan, Donnie and Richie were now locked in. Donnie smiled a devilish smile at the three cops. He walked over to Jake and said "Ready to have some fun?" Jake smiled, and opened his pants, pulling at his large cock.
He looked over at Dale and Mitch and nodded his head for them to come over and join him. Dale's face was bright red with embarrassment and arousal, his hands shaking as he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock. Mitch groaned low in his throat, his own cock already half-hard in his slacks, as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled down his pants. All three cops were now standing with their cocks out, watching the three college students.
Nikko whistled low, his gaze flicking between the trio’s growing erections. He removed his pants again and kicked them to the side, turning around and exposing his ass once again to the three cops. He looked at Jakob and Shu-Chan. "Your turn" he said to them.
Jakob looked over at Shu-Chan, who was already pulling off his shirt to reveal smooth, golden skin beneath. His long hair spilled down his back like a waterfall of ink, framing the delicate slope of his shoulders and the faintest shadow between his collarbones. He didn’t need to say a word—his body did all the talking, arching slightly as he peeled off his jeans, letting his cock fall free with a slow, deliberate sway.
Jakob’s breath came fast now, his fingers trembling as he unbuckled his belt, the metal clink loud in the charged silence.
He shrugged off his shirt, letting it pool at his feet, his broad chest rising and falling with each ragged inhale. His cock—thick, flushed, and already leaking—twitched as he shoved his jeans down his hips, baring himself completely. The heat of the room, the weight of their stares, the fact that he was *doing this*—it was too much. Too real. Too *good.*
Shu-Chan didn’t wait for an invitation. He stepped forward, his bare feet silent against the sticky floor, his long fingers sliding up Jakob’s chest.