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Leander’s voice cut through the static in my head. He leaned against the doorframe, shrugging off his jacket. He dropped the expensive silk onto the floor like a rag.

“I’m crashing,” I gasped. “If I don’t stabilize... the recovery algorithm... tomorrow...”

“Stop talking about math, Felix.”

He pushed off the door and walked toward me, his shoes thudding against the floor tiles. He stopped inches away. His proximity flooded my senses.

“You’re shivering,” he said.

“I know.”

“Fix it.”

I looked up at him, confused. “What?”

Leander dragged the desk chair into the center of the room. He spun it around and sat, straddling the seat, arms resting over the backrest. He spread his legs wide, the fabric of his pants straining against his thighs.

“You call it maintenance,” he said, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “So maintain it. Lower the levels.”

My own word, handed back to me across the width of a dorm room.

The realization hit me like a slap. Heat flared in my cheeks, burning through the pallor of shock.

“No,” I whispered.

“Yes.” He nodded at my crotch. “You spent the whole night letting strangers touch you. You let the Commissioner pet you like a dog. You let me hold you on that stage while the cameras flashed, and you liked it.”

“I did what I had to do.”

“You liked it,” he repeated, his voice dropping to a growl. “I felt you twitching against my leg. You’re wired tight, Felix. You need to bleed that pressure off, or you’re going to snap on the field tomorrow. Do you want to fail?”

The question hooked into my deepest fear. Failure was not an option.

“I can’t do this right now,” I choked out. “Not... not with you watching.”

He pointed to the floor in front of him.

“Strip.”

My hands trembled so badly I tore a button off my shirt that pinged against the floor. I fumbled with the cufflinks, dropping them.

I pushed the dress pants down, kicking them away until I was standing in nothing but my briefs and the ruined shirt hanging open off my shoulders.

The cool air hit my skin. I expected to feel exposed. I expected to feel the crushing weight of humiliation.

Instead, I felt... light.

The armor was gone. The Captain’s band, the tuxedo, it was all on the floor. I was just a body. A machine that needed fixing.

Leander was still fully dressed, armored in silk and arrogance, watching me with a lidded gaze. He didn’t look at me like the world did. He didn’t see a symbol. He saw the mess underneath.

“On your knees,” he commanded.

I sank to the floor and the position felt right. It felt inevitable. For the first time all day, I didn’t have to think. I just had to obey.

“Take it out.”

I reached into my waistband. My cock sprang free, already leaking, hard and aching against my stomach.