Greg is not a bad man. He doesn’t make a habit of picking up boys almost young enough to be his son. But he’s not a good man either, and John is firm and warm beneath his hands, resting where Greg holds him even as his eyes betray his fear. The idea of being the first one to spread John out, to hold him down on the bed while he writhes with pleasure is intoxicating.
When 17-year-old John Watson gets into Greg’s space, Greg decides to scare him off. He hadn’t counted on John not being remotely afraid. Or ‘that time when Greg popped John’s cherry and there was stripping and cockiness and kissing-against-walls’.
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