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“Shut the hell up, don’t take your mouth off my cock unless I say so.”
Cedric huffed with annoyance, dragging his teeth along the underside of the guy’s cock so it would hurt, as payback for talking to him like he was some cheap fuck. Well, he was one, but still… “Cut that out. What kind of pornstar name is Cedric anyway?” the guy groaned. Cedric rolled his eyes, put his head down and sucked the tip of the man’s cock first with a wet pop before swallowing the shaft so deep it hit the back of his throat. That always made this guy come quicker, and he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. He let his mind wander somewhere else, somewhere that didn’t involve this grimy piss-smelling stall or the asshole currently moaning above him. He pictured him, the love of his fucking life. Marcus Chen. Captain of the soccer team, with his stupidly perfect jawline and that easy, confident laugh that made everyone in the hallway turn their heads. Marcus, who never looked twice at him, a scrawny nerd with the thick glasses and second-hand clothes. Marcus, who was aggressively, undeniably, frustratingly straight. But fuck, Cedric had loved him anyway. In that desperate, stupid, one-sided way that only a closeted sixteen-year-old could. He’d written him embarrassing love letters, he’d even offered to bottom for him and got “Don’t ever speak to me again, weirdo” as a response. It was pathetic, really, Cedric still had a thing for him even after all those years. He just pretended Marcus was the one face-fucking him instead, at least that fantasy made this shit bearable. “I made a single video when I was high, okay?” Cedric lied, climbing to his feet after the guy came. “I’m not a fucking pornstar. You got your blowjob, now pay up.” He snapped. “That’s what they all say.” The guy… Brad? Brett? Cedric couldn’t remember and didn’t care to, tossed a crumpled wad of money at the floor and Cedric had to swallow the urge to tell him to shove it where the sun didn’t shine. Instead, he crouched down and started counting. Twenty. Forty. Sixty. Eighty bucks. Not bad for thirty minutes of work, but not nearly enough. He did the mental math automatically now, already used to it after years of this routine. Forty would go to his Mom back home, so she didn’t have to choose between eating and paying the electric bill. Twenty for the interest payment on Dad’s debt, because even though he was dead, the bastard’s gambling habit kept bleeding them dry. That left twenty for himself. Twenty dollars to get drunk enough on cheap booze that he’d forget he’d once had a 4.0 GPA and dreams of Cornell University’s veterinary program. He pocketed the cash and turned toward the door, already thinking about which guy at the bar he’d take home tonight. Someone pretty maybe, someone who wouldn’t ask any questions. Top or bottom, it didn’t matter, all that mattered was that something stopped the buzzing in his head. He fucking hated being sober. “Hold up. Where the hell are you going?” Cedric paused, hand on the stall door. “Mind your own fucking business.” “You’re not actually here to pick up boys for fun, you know? I hear that’s what you like to do when your shift’s over. “ Brad-or-Brett was putting his belt back on, giving Cedric that look, the one that said I own you, and we both fucking know it. “You’re here to work, make me some money and pay off what you owe the boss.” The asshole continued, “Hell, even I shouldn’t even be fucking you on the sly, but I had to see for myself if the rumours about my coworker’s blowjob game were true.” “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Whatever.” Cedric shoved the door open, muttering under his breath as he stepped out into the dingy bathroom. “Like I wanna spend my Friday night sucking off randos in a stall that probably hasn’t been cleaned since the fucking ice age.” Cedric caught his reflection in the cracked bathroom mirror and barely recognised himself. His glasses were long gone, replaced by contacts, and his scrawny frame had filled out into lean muscle. His hair, once an unfortunate bowl cut, now fell in messy blonde waves that he’d been told were “sexy”. He looked good. He knew he looked good. So why the fuck was he still here living this fucked up life? “Big talk for someone who spent his whole life being a nobody outcast,” Brett, his name was definitely Brett, came out from the bathroom stall and started washing his hands like he actually gave a shit about hygiene. Cedric’s jaw tightened. “Fuck off.” “I’m just saying. You act like you’re too good for this, but we both know you’re not.” Brett dried his hands on his jeans, then turned to face him, “Listen, because we go way back and you give damn good head, I’m gonna throw you a lifeline here.” “Fuck you, and fuck your lifeline. I didn’t ask for your help, or your charity.” “Shut the hell up and listen to me when I’m talking to you. I know someone who needs a guy with your… skills.” Brett leaned against the sink, arms crossed.” “The pay is good, good enough that it makes your bathroom hustle look like pocket change. Think about it, Cedric, you could really help out with your old man’s debt, maybe even get back on your own two feet.” Cedric wasn’t sure how to feel. He didn’t want to hope, because hope was dangerous, and hope got you hurt. But God, he was so fucking tired of counting crumpled bills on piss-stained floors. “What’s the catch? If it’s so great, why aren’t you going for the job yourself?” “I’ve got other shit going on right now, so I can’t do it. But I know this pays far better than whatever the hell it is you’re doing here.” Brett pushed off the sink, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “Are you in or what?” Cedric stared at him, waiting for the con, the angle, the inevitable moment when this would all turn to shit. Because it always did, life had taught him that much. “So what is it? Want me to hide drugs up my ass to cross the border?” Cedric asked, growing suspicious. Brett laughed smugly, “Yeah, you’d like to have something up your ass, wouldn’t you? Fucking faggot.” He continued, “I’m talking about being an informant for the police. They need someone who knows the streets, who knows how things work down here--“ “Fuck that.” He backed toward the door, “I’m not working with cops. Are you a narc? Is that what this is?” Cedric’s voice rose, now furious. “If you’re trying to nab me for using coke, you can forget it. I won’t tell you who deals for me. I’m not a fucking snitch.” “Ceddy, wait-“ “Don’t fucking call me that, only my friends call me that.” Cedric’s mind flashed back quickly, he vaguely remembered a small kid who sat behind him in class, calling him Ceddy. “You have no friends.” “Doesn’t matter! And No! Absolutely fucking not.” He fumed. Who the hell did this guy think he was? Bringing him all the way over there just so he could talk down to him and send him on shit jobs. “So you want to keep sucking dick in bathroom stalls for the rest of your life?” Brett’s voice had gone cold now. “That’s your big plan?” Cedric yanked the door open, “Like I said, mind your own fucking business.” He let the door swing shut behind him, cutting off whatever else Brett was about to say. The bar was loud, pulsing with bass so powerful that it shook the ground. Cedric shouldered his way through the crowd of people on the dance floor, his eyes scanning the place… until bingo. Pretty boy in the corner booth with a shy smile, sipping a drink like he wasn’t sure he belonged here. Perfect. Cedric caught the boy’s eye and winked at him. Then he let his gaze linger just long enough to make his intentions clear, before jerking his head toward the exit, the universal signal for follow me. Cedric counted down in his head. They always followed before he got to three; no one could resist a face like his. One… Two… The boy, maybe twenty-two, twenty-three, got up, then nervously followed Cedric into the shadowy alley behind the bar. Hell yeah. “Hi, my name’s…” he started awkwardly. “I hear you, handsome. Now take your pants off.” Cedric was already reaching for his belt when he heard a gunshot going off out of nowhere. Three men came out of the darkness like something out of some fucked up nightmare, and all of them were armed, pointing guns directly at Cedric. The one in the middle smiled menacingly, “There you are,” he said, “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”Cedric lay in the medical bay, machines beeping in a rhythm that felt too loud for such a quiet room. Three days. Three days of being nothing but a body on a table, machines keeping his heart beating while the rest of the world spun on without him. The clones were alive. His blood had spread through the foundation like a quiet miracle, neutralizing the virus before it could take hold. But Cedric wasn't waking up.Gianni sat beside the bed, holding his hand like it was the only thing keeping him upright. He hadn't left, not once, not even to eat. His thumb moved in slow circles over Cedric's knuckles. Every few minutes his eyes flicked to the monitor and back, like checking wouldn't change anything but he had to do it anyway."Come on," he said, barely above a whisper. "You don't get to do this. Not now."In the corner, Lily knelt with her hands folded, lips moving through words she'd stopped really hearing hours ago. She wasn't asking for anything specific anymore. Just his name, agai
The abandoned hospital loomed under a grey sky, its cracked windows like empty eyes staring out over the empty parking lot. Marcus had turned the place into a nightmare of glass and steel and sterile horrors, and tonight the whole building hummed with the low, lethal buzz of his virus. Cedric moved through the corridors first, gun up, boots silent on the linoleum that smelled of bleach and fear. Gianni stayed half a step behind, eyes sharp, while Anna coordinated from the van two streets away, her voice calm in their ears.They found Sasha’s daughter in the third floor, a small cage in a room that looked like a child’s nightmare, cold steel walls, monitors flashing vitals that were already slowing. She was maybe ten, dark hair matted, eyes huge and terrified, but alive. Cedric cut the locks with a bolt cutter, lifted her out, and pressed her gently into Anna’s waiting arms.“Get her out,” he said, voice steady even though his chest felt like it was caving in.Anna nodded once, took th
Sasha limped through the foundation's gates at dusk. One arm curled against her ribs, the other clutched a small vial of glowing liquid, her hand smeared with blood that wasn't all hers. Her lip was split, her clothes torn and caked with road dust. She'd been running for months, staying one step ahead of what was left of Marcus's people, and now she stood on the cracked steps looking like someone who'd simply run out of places left to go.Cedric got to her first. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and walked her inside without saying anything. Gianni followed, jaw tight. Lily and the clones watched from the windows, not moving."What happened?" Cedric asked, easing her into a chair and reaching for the first aid kit.Sasha was still catching her breath. "He's building something new. Worse than before." Her eyes flicked toward the door, like she expected Marcus to be standing there. "A virus. It only targets clones."Something in Cedric went still. "He wants them all dead."She nod
The foundation rose again, stronger than before.Months had passed since the rubble. The world outside the hills felt far away now, almost like something they'd made up. Fresh mortar filled the cracks in the stone walls. Someone had planted flowers in the garden, and they'd actually taken, filling the air with that thin spring smell. Down the halls, kids' voices carried, the ordinary noise of children who weren't afraid anymore. The clones were healing too, just slower, and in pieces. Each one was figuring out his own shape instead of dragging around the weight of Cedric's blood.A few of them wanted to be doctors. One in particular spent his afternoons in the medical bay, stitching cuts, asking people quiet questions about where it hurt. He carried a beat-up notebook in his coat pocket, scribbling down which herbs did what, how to splint a finger properly. When one of the little ones skinned a knee on the gravel path, he was always the first one down on the ground next to them, telli
The foundation was in ruins.Concrete cracked, glass shattered, the old stone walls stained with soot and the faint smell of gunpowder that would never quite leave. The clones were scattered across the courtyard, disoriented and confused, their blank eyes slowly filling with something like fear and the first real memories they had ever had. They moved in small groups, helping the youngest children out of the rubble, but none of them could look Cedric in the eye without seeing the man who had built them and the man who had almost destroyed them.Three of the youngest clones had not made it.A boy no older than seven, a girl of nine, and another small boy who had only just learned how to smile. They lay covered by tarps in the medical bay, and Cedric walked past them twice, each time his chest tightening until he could barely breathe. Lily sat beside their bodies, her face pale and empty, one hand resting on each small shoulder like she could hold them up by will alone. Mia was in the m
The skyscraper in Manhattan rose dark and empty against the night sky. Windows shattered like broken teeth. Wind howled through the corridors. Marcus had turned this place into a base years ago, and the whole building still hummed with his signal, a low pulse that made the air taste like blood and old lies. Cedric moved through the halls with his gun drawn, and every footstep echoed back at him like a warning he couldn't quite make out.The ghosts followed him.His father, young and alive, smiling down from the second floor, waving like they were about to grab coffee. Linda next to him, holding his hand, giving Cedric that same soft look she used to give him at bedtime. And then Cedric himself, a kid, maybe eight years old, standing in the lobby with a toy car clutched in one hand. Eyes wide. Nothing broken in him yet. Nothing stolen.His knees buckled. He caught himself against the wall, plaster cold and gritty under his palm. The boy in the lobby didn't flicker. Didn't glitch or fad
Cedric stopped, then he turned around slowly.Falcone was looking at him now, really looking, his phone forgotten on the table. His expression was unreadable, but something was happening behind those eyes, some calculation, some recognition that Cedric didn't understand."Come here," Falcone said.
The wire itched.Cedric stood in the club's bathroom, full of black marble and gold fixtures that probably cost more than his entire existence, and stared at his reflection. The crisp white shirt they'd given him was tailored within an inch of its life, tucked into black slacks that actually fit fo
"You start Monday.”Cedric blinked, dragging his attention away from the cop’s mouth, the kind of mouth that looked like it knew how to do very interesting things in bed, not focusing at all on the words being said.Brett had dropped him off at the police station twenty minutes ago with a “good luc
“Jesus Christ, what the fuck happened to your face?”Cedric kept his hood up and his head down, ignoring the pitying looks and questions from late-night commuters on the subway who caught sight of his busted face. He could see the full extent of the damage reflected in the scratched train window,







