A full day had dragged by in agonizing slowness since the convoy returned from the surface run.
Ty had barricaded himself inside his tiny concrete room like a prisoner in his own personal hell.
Food trays piled up untouched outside the door.
He hadn't eaten.
Hadn't slept more than a few peaceful minutes at a time.
The strange, sweet-spicy scent from that damned jar in the truck had infected him like a slow-burning poison, turning every nerve ending into live wires of unbearable need.
The aphrodisiac — whatever pre-outbreak chemical nightmare it was — refused to let go.
Ty lay sprawled on his back across the thin, creaking mattress, pants and underwear shoved down around his ankles. His lean, muscular body glistened with sweat under the dim single bulb.
His brown hair was plastered to his forehead, brown eyes hazy and unfocused.
His cock stood painfully hard against his stomach, flushed dark red, veins prominent, the head slick and leaking steadily.
"Fuck… fuck, please…" he panted, voice hoarse and broken.
His right hand flew over his shaft in desperate, frantic strokes — tight, twisting, thumb pressing hard against the sensitive underside of the head on every upstroke.
Precum smeared across his palm, making the motion increasingly wet. He had already come four times in the last several hours, each orgasm more intense but providing less and less relief.
Thick ropes of cum still decorated his abs and chest from the previous round, some of it drying, some still fresh.
His hips bucked upward into his fist as another climax built rapidly.
"Ah—shit—!" He came hard with a strangled groan, cock pulsing violently as more cum splattered across his torso.
His hole clenched uselessly around nothing, legs trembling.
But even as the waves of pleasure crashed through him, his erection refused to soften. It throbbed angrily, still fully hard, demanding more.
Ty's head fell back against the pillow. Tears of frustration pricked the corners of his eyes.
"Why won't it stop…?"
In a fit of rage and desperation, he sat up and slammed his forehead hard against the concrete wall beside the bed.
Thud.
Pain exploded through his skull. Blood trickled down from a fresh split above his eyebrow, joining the dried smears already there from earlier attempts.
A dark crimson stain marked the wall where he had repeatedly tried to knock the maddening heat out of his brain.
The throbbing headache only made the dizziness and fire in his veins worse.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he snarled, voice cracking.
He slapped himself hard across the face, then again.
The sharp sting brought a momentary flash of clarity before the heat roared back stronger.
In pure frustration, he slapped his own aching cock with an open palm. The impact sent a jolt of pain and unwanted pleasure through him.
He groaned, doubling over, gripping the base tightly as if that could force it to go down.
It didn't.
Stumbling on shaky legs, Ty made it to the tiny sink in the corner. He turned the cold water on full blast and shoved his head under the stream, gasping at the shock.
Icy water rushed over his face, neck, and chest, soaking his hair and running in tiny ruvers down his flushed skin.
He even aimed the stream directly at his erection, hoping the cold would shock it into submission.
For a blessed thirty seconds, the hardness eased slightly.
Then the fire surged back hotter than ever.
His cock twitched, leaking fresh precum despite the freezing water.
"God damn it!" Ty bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, groaning in pain and regret as he gripped the sink edge. His reflection in the small, cracked mirror looked wrecked — wild eyes, bloody forehead, sweat and cum streaking his defined abs, cock still standing hard between his legs.
He didn't know how much longer he could take this.
In the upper levels of the facility, Noah paced the war room like a caged predator. The black veins beneath his skin pulsed restlessly. He hadn't seen Ty since the unloading yesterday afternoon. The absence gnawed at him more than it should.
"Rafe," Noah said, voice low and commanding. "The new recruit. Ty. Where is he?"
Rafe looked up from the mission logs.
"Haven't seen him since we got back. He helped unload but then disappeared. I assumed he was resting after the run. He's been keeping to himself a lot."
Noah's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Find him. Now."
Rafe nodded and left without question.
Noah remained, fists clenched at his sides.
He couldn't have escaped. The facility is locked down. Cameras cover every exit.
But the memory of Ty trying to slip away at the depot lingered. The way Ty's body had responded to him against that tree. The way the constant war inside his own mutated flesh quieted whenever they touched.
Something deep inside him — something older than the mutation — recognized Ty.
Knew him.
And he couldn't ignore it any longer.
–––
Jax had grown increasingly worried.
He had knocked on Ty's door multiple times throughout the day with no answer.
Something was wrong.
Ty had looked flushed and off when they returned.
Jax moved quickly through the residential corridors, avoiding patrols, until he reached the familiar door.
He tested the handle. It wasn't fully latched.
Pushing it open quietly, Jax stepped inside and froze.
The room reeked of sweat, cum, and desperation. Ty was slumped on the floor near the bed, pants open, cock still hard and leaking against his thigh.
His body was covered in a sheen of sweat and dried release.
Blood trickled from a cut on his forehead. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, chest rising and falling in shallow, exhausted pants.
He looked completely wrecked — raw and vulnerable.
"Ty?!" Jax rushed forward, closing the door behind him. "Holy shit, what happened to you?"
Ty's glassy eyes slowly focused on him.
With visible effort, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. His hard cock bobbed. He didn't bother trying to cover himself.
"Jax…" Ty's voice was raw, desperate, cracking with exhaustion. "You guys… you have to have something for this, right? Some suppressant? Medicine? Anything. I don't know what the fuck is going on. That jar in the truck… the scent… it won't stop. Help me. Please."
He lunged forward, grabbing the front of Jax's tactical vest with both hands and pulling him down.
Their bodies pressed together as Ty tried to stand. Jax's hands instinctively wrapped around Ty's waist to steady him.
Heat radiated off Ty's skin like a furnace.
Their faces were inches apart — close enough for Jax to see the dilation in Ty's pupils, the flush on his cheeks, the way his cock brushed hotly against Jax's thigh.
"I'll help you," Jax breathed, green eyes darkening with lust. One hand slid up to cup Ty's jaw. "Whatever you need. I've got you—"
The door slammed open with violent force.
Noah filled the doorway like a nightmare come to life. His eyes locked onto the scene: Ty half-naked and desperate, bodies pressed intimately together with Jax, their faces so close they were almost kissing.
Pure, territorial rage exploded across Noah's face.
The black veins beneath his skin surged violently, spiking thicker and darker than ever across his neck, jaw, shoulders, and chest.
They pulsed with raw fury. A deep, guttural growl tore from his throat, echoing in the small room.
He didn't fully understand why seeing Ty like this — vulnerable, needy, with someone else's hands on him — made him want to tear Jax's throat out.
But something buried deep inside his mutated body knew.
They had been close before. His body remembered even if his mind was still fractured.
"Get. The fuck. Away. From him."