It was all about silent communication.

You went in. You stood. You waited.

And the game would begin.

Kendrick entered the bathroom and tried to calm his heart. He could feel it in his chest, beating a steady tattoo beneath the skin. His nerves danced to it, pulsing. Pulsing.

In truth, he was nervous. He eyed the men he saw standing at the sinks, preening themselves in the mirror. Kendrick looked at them and wondered, not for the first time, Which one would it be this time?

He took a casual look at himself in the mirror, checking himself out for a quick second, and chose his position. His skin was dark as night, a black so deep and full it shone like onyx. His hair, white so clean it glowed, hung past his shoulders.

Mortals would assume his glowing skin and hair were due to excellent hygiene. Kendrick knew better. Being a demon had more benefits than just immortality.

Standing at the urinal, he took out his cock and stood, waiting. It was hard already, and he stroked the shaft. Footsteps sounded, and someone stopped at the urinal beside him. He glanced at the other man casually, so as not to attract attention.

The man beside him was gorgeous. Dark hair was cut down to a fine buzz, the brown bristles of hair peppered with white. Stubble covered the man’s chin, surrounding pouty lips that were currently formed into something approaching a grin.

Kendrick looked down and saw that the man’s cock was already hard. What it lacked in length, it made up in girth. It was possibly the thickest cock he’d ever seen. When the man pulled back his foreskin to reveal the head, large and pulsing, Kendrick almost swooned.

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