Chapter 6
The fog from yesterday had barely lifted.
The entire scene at the bank felt like a distant memory.
When I returned home, I had spent plenty of time scrubbing the blood off my hands, standing in the shower, trying to dissect what Hellcat had said.
Heroes were the bane of Vanguard, and I never hesitated in saying we’d be better off without them.
Perhaps the stress of the situation had distorted my memory?
A shirt riddled with bullet holes rested on my coffee table. The evidence didn’t lie.
I plopped down on the couch. I had yet to do more than slide on a pair of briefs before making coffee.
The steaming cup was the only thing that mattered in the world in this moment.
It was all in my head, but the moment I took the first sip, the energy pulsed through my body. I’m a coffee slut, so sue me.
My phone vibrated, and I prayed it wasn’t the HeroApp? reporting another robbery. Normally I was ready to jump into action and head to work, but today, my head was elsewhere.
Emergency.
I didn’t recognize the number. After a restless night of sleep, I prepared a long string of swears that would make a sailor blush. As my thumb hovered over the send button, the tiny rectangle shook again.
A: Sorry. It’s Aiden.
X: You scum-sucking telemarketing douche bag cum guzzler.
I swore my heart struggled to climb through the gaps in my ribcage, thumping hard enough my eardrums pulsed. There was no way “sorry” would quite cover it. Oh yes, thank you for saving my life, by the way, I think you’re a—
A: At least one of those things is correct.
No, he did not end the text message with a wink. I nearly choked on my tongue, unsure if I should snort or sigh with relief.
X: Sorry, I thought you were a telemarketer. Didn’t know it was a handsome man hitting me up.
A: Grif gave me your number.
X: He mentioned Sebastian knew you.
“Xander.” I stood, pacing back and forth across the living room. “You have a delete key. Use it. You sound like a barbarian. Why not just send him a dick pic?” The thought crossed my mind, but perhaps I should wait until the second conversation.
X: Emergency? What’s up?
Business. Assess the situation. Remove the emotion. Look for the problem. Examine avenues toward a solution. If only I could apply my paramedic training to every aspect of my life. Perhaps I wouldn’t be an angry man ready to punch holes in the wall.
A: They’re gone.
X: Who?
Let me guess, the mayor, victim of another clandestine organization of villains looking to empty the bank vaults.
No, I’m pretty sure that was last month.
The nuclear power plant? Wait, I saved the Winged Warrior after he got hit by a not-so-deadly death ray.
In Vanguard City, emergencies were more common than jaywalkers.
A: The heroes. They’re gone. Every. One. Of. Them.
The pacing stopped, my feet half on the rug, half on the cheap linoleum flooring. Slowly, I turned until I eyed the t-shirt peppered with tiny holes. It made little sense. Hellcat had arrived at the bank.
“There’s not enough of us.” Her words had sounded like a warning yesterday. Did she know about the missing heroes? Sure, one or two would go vanishing as their alter ego visited their mother in Kansas, but not all of them. Hellcat arriving at the bank proved there were…
“Xander, you’re an idiot.” I had mocked the alert on my phone, wondering why the only person swinging into action at the bank was a second-string hero.
But unlike the vast majority of heroes gifted with cosmic power, alien abilities, or drawing on the supernatural, she was an everyday woman with a mean left-hook.
X: How do you know?
A: Reporter. I notice things.
X: Why message me?
A: You’re the only studly medic I know saving superheroes.
X: So you know other studly medics? Ha. Alejandro would give me a high-five for that one. How that man turned on the charm with such ease was beyond me. He could have a new man in bed every night, and here I was attempting to pull my foot out of my mouth.
A: Only one who owes me a favor.
My heart sank. The playful banter had taken a wicked turn and landed squarely on a tit-for-tat situation.
I plopped down on the couch, staring at the text.
He wasn’t wrong. Saving my life put me in his debt.
I had hoped to repay him by burying my face between the cheeks of his ass. This was less fun.
A: I figure you at least owe me a coffee. We can negotiate the rest of the date.
X: Date?
A: I don’t save every damsel in distress I come across.
“Okay, just for that, I’m not using lube.” Even I couldn’t fight the grin spreading across my face. I tried to push my lips down, refusing to start my day off in a good mood. Despite my best attempts, the smile stuck, and I went back to imagining the thick reporter bent over my couch.
X: I am an adorable damsel.
A: That you are. Let me know if you notice anything?
X: Only because you called me pretty.
A: ;)
For a moment, the craziness at the bank ceased to exist. I didn’t care about the lack of heroes or the shirt turned Swiss cheese. Right now, the only thing that mattered was a flirtatious man who deserved a proper thank you. After a proper thanks, I wanted to give him a very improper thanks.
I reached into my underwear, recalling the bulge of muscle on the man’s arm as he reached down to save me.
The dusting of hair creeping toward his wrist would be an amazing sight reaching into my briefs.
After being on the receiving end of his grip, I could only imagine how firm it’d be as his fingers circled the shaft of my cock.
Pulling the skin back, the head pressed firmly against the stitching, refusing to relent until I took care of business. I closed my eyes, leaning back, settling in for a morning of taunting and teasing my cock. I didn’t have any place to be until work, and I’d be a lot more agreeable if I came.
I reached deeper, giving my balls a firm tug. The thought of them slapping against Aiden’s ass was more than enough to make it jerk upright. Dragging my finger over the slit, the precum had flowed, an unusual occurrence unless a guy spent quality time servicing my package.
The moment I imagined him on all fours, his jeans hiked down past his ass, the only thing between me and my goal, a pair of white undies. Sliding them down, I could almost imagine the heat of his ass as I pressed myself against him, teasing the man.
“Fuck,” I moaned. The image of his ass opening for my cock, hands holding his hips, guiding him back—
My toes curled and I let out a low growl.
The sensation spread across my lap, working down my sack, across my taint, feeling like an electric current running down my legs.
I came hard enough that the tiny drop of precum on my underwear turned into a wet patch.
Pinching the base, I milked my cock, shaking out the last of the cum.
Panting, I slid my hand from the waistband, wiping the evidence of Aiden’s hotness on my briefs. I’d have told anybody that it took forever for me to finish, but perhaps all I needed was the proper motivation. Motivation in the form of a chubby reporter with an annoyingly charming personality.
Apparently, I had some free time for breakfast.
“I’m just going to come out and say it.” I pointed at Griff first, then at Alejandro, and finally at Bernard. “No, you know what, you’re part of this too.” My finger extended toward Chad as he poured another cup of coffee for Bernard. “You’re all acting like somebody pissed in your Cheerios.”
The entire coffee shop was quietly whispering.
Everybody ignored their steaming beverages as they traded theories about what might have happened.
A nearby couple had their phones out as they doom scrolled through the newsfeeds, reporting a lack of superheroes.
It was perhaps the greatest event to happen in the world, and considering how often intergalactic armies arrived to enslave us, that was saying something.
Alejandro I understood. For a man who worked in a club catering to superheroes, his clientele had dried up overnight.
Even Bernard’s job with the Centurions could be in jeopardy.
Now that he thought about it, without people saving the planet, Griffin might not have a job anymore.
It was the first time that I realized that each of us had a connection to the powered community through our occupations.
“And what about you?” I’m sure my eyes narrowed as I directed my gaze at Chad. “Why are you all sorts of moody?”
The barista’s face turned white. For the first time in his life, he didn’t have a quip. Nervously, he laughed. “You know Zipper leaves me hundred dollar tips, right? How else do I afford lavish vacations with the hubby?”
Lies. What he was fibbing about, I wasn’t sure, but I’d circle back to that conversation the next time he tried to set me up with his cousin.
“You must be happy,” Griffin said.
I raised my eyebrow, not at the statement but at the tone. The usual upbeat plucky character in our ensemble sounded more like me, an undercurrent of annoyance and anger.
“Care to elaborate?”
“You’re the one who hates supers. The rest of us are content to co-mingle in a world filled with heroes, but you…” His voice had turned low, almost to where I expected the next words to be a scolding insult. “There isn’t a day where you didn’t wish they’d vanish.”
Bernard and Alejandro were unusually quiet. I wouldn’t have thought getting my wish would drive a wedge between us. Yes, their jobs depended on heroes, but so did mine. Perhaps after a day or two, they’d see that the people of Vanguard were resilient enough to hold their own.
“I’m not sure where you’re going with this. Are you blaming me? Or are you mad that for a change, I’m not the one on the losing side of this argument?”
Griffin leaned back in his chair, withholding any follow-up statement. I didn’t speak up when he went off about a new comic book. With Alejandro, I never judged him being a hero chaser. Good for him. Bernard, well, he was Bernard.
“I’m not going to sit here and cheer that my argument won. I’m not a dick. But give it a couple days. Maybe you’ll see that I was right, and we can get along without superheroes.”
Bernard started shaking his head. For years he had worked with the Centurions, one of the world’s elite superhero teams. He always had interesting stories to tell about events happening behind the scenes.
There was even a time when I had one of his team in the back of my ambulance after being impaled on a beam of light.
“It’s going to descend into chaos,” Bernard muttered.
“I wouldn’t—”
Every phone in the coffee shop dinged at the same time. Without a doubt, it was the HeroApp?. Nobody at the table reached for their phone. Their willingness to ignore their devices caused my anxiety to jump. Gay men were wired to their phones. We’d have them installed in our brains if we could.
“Fine, I’ll bite.” I flipped mine over and, of course, it was the HeroApp?. See, everything was returning to normal. There were plenty of blips on the— Where the heroes were typically identified by red dots, the map showed nearly a dozen black dots all over the city, including the Ward.
The heroes were gone, but the villains, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be suffering. There were no red blips appearing, no heroes, none.
“Chaos,” Bernard said as he got up from his chair. “I have to head to work and see what the government is going to do. Be careful out there. Better yet, check in every few hours.”
Alejandro nodded. “Si, Papi.”
Bernard’s face hardened as he looked at me. I could handle nearly dying or being covered in gore, but under his disapproving gaze, something in my stomach tightened. Up to this point, our difference of opinion had been lighthearted and playful, but now the guilt forced me to sink into my chair.
“Be careful,” I echoed.