Jack had left Callum in the chastity cage until Friday, letting him out just before he had to leave for work. His cock felt a thousand pounds lighter once it was free of its constraints and it swung freely between his legs, even as it plumped at the memory of Jack locking him up in the first place.

Chastity had been mentally excruciating for him. The cage had done nothing except make him more painfully aware of his cock than normal. Every step he took or every time he sat down, his cock jostled against its prison and tried to harden. His balls ached with the tightness of the ring around them and he’d been solely focused on nothing besides coming for the past three days, even though Jack hadn’t let him.

Even now, with the cage off, Jack hadn’t allowed him to come, instead sending him to work with a swollen cock that was desperate for attention.

He was trying to focus on mixing drinks when two familiar faces appeared at the bar.

“Hey, guys,” he greeted Gregory and Landon’s friends Justin and Micah. They’d been around for years and Callum recognized their faces as regular customers long before he’d officially met them as friends.

They’d briefly had a third partner who spent time with them, but he’d vanished a few weeks before after passing off an envelope to Callum in the parking lot before his shift started. He’d been meaning to ask after their curly-haired friend, but hadn’t seen Justin or Micah since then.

“Hey, Callum,” Justin greeted with a friendly wave. Micah, for his part, looked rather cranky, but he followed beside Justin without verbal complaint.

“What can I get you?”

“Whiskey,” Micah answered.

Justin shot him a glare that had Callum’s hand hesitating around the neck of the bottle. Micah looked to Justin with pleading eyes, and Justin’s softened before he gave Callum an approving nod of his head.

“Make it two,” Justin confirmed.

Callum poured the drinks and set them on coasters in front of the men, still debating whether he wanted to mention their friend or not. Justin and Micah had always seemed like they got along so well, and this new icy tension between them wasn’t something Callum had seen until after their third disappeared.

“Where’s your friend?” he asked, dropping the whiskey bottle back into the well.

Justin looked to Micah before he answered. “We don’t know.”

“He just disappeared,” Micah added sullenly.

“He seemed upset last time I saw him,” Callum offered.

Micah traced his finger around the rim of his glass before picking it up and taking a large swallow and remaining silent.

“If you see him around, will you let us know?” Justin asked. “We left a lot of things…unsaid.”

“Of course, man,” Callum agreed.

Micah downed the rest of his drink. “I want to play.”

Justin affectionately stroked a hand through Micah’s hair, and Micah leaned into the touch like a tree angling toward the sun.

“You’ve been drinking,” Justin gestured to Micah’s empty glass.

“Just one,” he countered. “You know I can handle it. You know I need it. Sir.”

Justin looked at Micah with a look of such great sorrow that it hurt Callum’s heart and caused him to look away. When he looked back, they were both gone, Justin’s drink still on the bar untouched.

Two hours into his shift, Verity’s…friend Aaron showed up. He pushed his way to the bar and looked around, smiling and nodding when he saw Callum.

“Is Gregory around?” Aaron asked, scanning the crowd, but directing his question to Callum.

“I haven’t seen him or Landon. Verity’s here, though.”

One thing Callum had learned through his years of bartending was that people always overlooked the bartender. While Callum may not have been the best with names, he knew faces, he knew drink preferences, he knew the way people normally looked when they were happy and he could pick up on tension between couples like he had with Justin and Micah. And what he noticed with Aaron was the way his eyes flickered when Callum said Verity’s name.

“Fancy running into you here.”

Jack’s voice to Aaron’s left drew Callum’s attention immediately and a relieved smile broke across his face.

“Daddy.”

“Jack,” Aaron interjected.

Jack turned his body toward Aaron, giving him a hug and a pat on the back. “Good to see you,” he said. “Let me get you a drink.”

Aaron agreed and Callum slid them both bottles of beer. Another customer flagged him for a drink so he left Jack and Aaron together at the bar, picking up words and bits of their conversation as he passed by between customers.

He knew they were talking about Verity. He knew Aaron wanted to see Verity, and he knew Jack had some inside information about whatever was going on. Verity had tried to be discreet about whatever was transpiring between themself and Aaron, but even Callum had noticed the stares that lasted far too long for only friendship whenever Aaron was at the bar.

Aaron clinked his bottle against Jack’s and stepped away from the bar, pushing through the crowd toward the office. Callum made his way back to Jack who was watching Aaron’s retreating back.

“Everything okay?” Callum asked, sliding another beer toward Jack.

“It will be,” Jack said, pushing out his bottom lip with a nod before turning his attention fully back to Callum. “What about you, kitten? Everything okay?”

Callum narrowed his eyes. “You know the answer.”

Jack leaned over the bar conspiratorially. “How much does it hurt?”

“You know,” he whined.

“Did you want me to lock you back up?” Jack licked his lips, eyes glinting under the glittering lights of Rapture.

Callum shook his head.

“You want lots of things, though. Don’t you, kitten?” Jack pressed, leaning over the bar so he was only inches from his face.

“Everything,” Callum replied.

“I feel like my whole life has devolved into stopping my friends from fucking each other in terrible places.” Verity’s voice rang out across the bar and Jack leaned back with a knowing smile.

“There’s no bacon here, Verity.”

Callum scrunched his face in confusion.

“We weren’t close to fucking,” he protested, looking to his left as Verity approached. Their hair was a little messier than normal, strands tangled through the short hairs of their undercut. Verity adjusted the waist of their skirt and quirked a brow in his direction.

“Jack was eye-fucking your brains out,” Verity disagreed.

Callum’s cheeks heated and he glanced away just in time to see Aaron sneaking out, not inconspicuously, from the office. Callum looked to Jack, then back to Verity and smirked.

“What?” Verity questioned.

Callum smiled and shook his head, taking a step back. “Nothing, boss.”

“You,” Verity said, pointing a finger at Jack, “leave my bartender alone and let him work.”

Jack held up his hands in surrender and stepped back from the bar. “I just came by to see how he was holding up.”

Callum glared, his cock pulsing against his thigh.

“He’s a big boy,” Verity assured Jack.

Jack waggled his eyebrows. “I know.”

“Jesus.” Verity shook their head.

“You walked right into that one,” Jack said with a laugh. He dropped a twenty on the bar and blew Callum a kiss. “I’ll see you at home.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Callum confirmed, sliding the bill of the counter and dropping it into the tip jar.

The night went on normally with Callum making a few hundred dollars in tips. That was pretty standard and he was counting out the bills after hours when Verity approached him.

“Are you sure about this?” they asked cautiously.

“About what?” Callum folded the bills and shoved them into his bag.

“Jack.”

“What do you mean?”

“About marrying him, Callum,” Verity said simply.

“He told you?” Callum leaned his butt against the edge of the bar and sighed.

“He asked me to officiate.”

Callum huffed and closed his eyes then opened them with a crystal clear feeling where everything in his life made sense.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

“Just checking.” Verity smiled.

“How long have you known him for?” he asked.

“College.”

“What was he like then?”

Verity rolled their eyes and laughed to themself. “A lot like he is now. He’s always been the caretaker of the group.”

“Do you think we’re doing the right thing?”

Verity cast him a sidelong glance.

“I think,” they started slowly, searching for words, “you’re who he needs.”

“That isn’t really an answer.”

“I’ve never understood the desire to get married, Callum,” Verity shared with a shrug.

“Oh.”

“Will you tell him there’s a barbeque tomorrow at Gregory’s? Two o’clock. You’re both invited.”

“Yeah, sure.” Callum recognized the change in subject and let his question go.

He hefted his messenger bag over his shoulder and locked the cash register, flicking a set of light switches that cast the bar into a dull gray glow. He squeezed past Verity and ducked under the pass, heading toward the door.

“Are you coming?” he called over his shoulder.

“No, I have some things left to tend here.”

“Okay, have a good night,” Callum said with a wave.

Verity looked at him like they wanted to say something, but they didn’t. Callum’s hand was on the front door when Verity’s voice rang through the club.

“It’s the right thing, Callum.”

He looked over his shoulder, unable to make out Verity’s form in the shadows around the bar so he pushed the door open and locked it on his way out.

At three-thirty in the morning, the drive to Silverlake wasn’t awful, but it was farther than he was used to. By the time he made it back to the house, he was dead on his feet, kicking his shoes off just inside the front door. He dropped his pants in the hallway, crawling into bed wearing his t-shirt and briefs.

Jack was asleep, but mumbled something and lifted the comforter up to make room for him. Callum backed his way into the sheets and pressed his back against Jack’s chest. Arms wrapped around him and Jack’s hot breath landed against his ear, quickly falling into the rhythm of sleep.

Callum closed his eyes and covered Jack’s hands with his own, Verity’s words echoing through his head as he tumbled into a dream.

It’s the right thing.