Hospital

Kyle awoke to the bright fluorescent lights of the hospital, monitors beeping around him. Dazed, he looked around. There were shadows around him. No, they were people. Blinking, his vision returned. In the corner, Tyler moped like a guilty shadow. Every once in a while, Tyler looked up at the ass of the crying blonde beside Kyle. Kyle turned to identify her. "Mom?" Diane was dressed in a thin white nurse's uniform that clung to her curves, a badge pinned crookedly over her left breast. She had clearly rushed here after her shift. Sniffling, she brushed Kyle's hair from his forehead. Her uniform gaped open at the collar, revealing deep cleavage damp with tears. Kyle noticed Tyler staring openly.

Diane leaned closer, her warm breath smelling faintly of antiseptic. "Oh, honey, I was so scared!" Her trembling fingers traced his bruised cheekbone. "They said the car is totaled... but you're safe." Her uniform stretched tight across her chest as she shifted. Kyle saw Tyler's smirk deepen in the reflection of a metal tray. Humiliation prickled his skin—his own mother, oblivious, was giving Tyler exactly what he wanted. The scent of her cheap floral perfume mixed with the sterile hospital smells, thick and cloying.

From behind Diane, another woman spoke. "Oh, Kyle! Are you OK?" she said, her voice sweet as a siren. Kyle looked over his mom's shoulder, taking it all in. Tyler's mother, Lydia, stood clutching a grocery bag filled with candy bars and chips. She wore a low-cut top that stretched tight over her ample chest—so stretched that Kyle could see the outline of her nipples. She wore yoga pants, jet black like her hair.

Without waiting for an answer, Lydia pushed past Diane—who was still fussing over Kyle's bruises—and wrapped her arms around him. Her breasts pressed hard against his face as she hugged him tightly. Kyle felt a surge of excitement mixed with confusion. Lydia smelled like vanilla perfume and sweat. Her top was thin, and he could feel her nipples stiffening against his mouth. He hugged her back, his hands lingering a little too long as they slid down her spine and rested firmly on her ass. It felt soft beneath the thin spandex. His fingers dug in slightly, greedy; but she was oblivious to his advances.

Tyler stood frozen in the corner. His smirk vanished as Kyle deliberately looked over Lydia's shoulder and locked eyes with him. Kyle shifted his hand lower, squeezing Lydia's ass harder—one finger brushing dangerously close to her seam. Lydia sighed softly without pulling away, adjusting her hips as if settling into a familiar embrace. "Oh, Kyle, I was worried sick!" she whispered, pressing herself deeper against him. Tyler’s knuckles whitened against the wall. The humiliation was instant, brutal—his own mother, willingly plastering herself against Kyle while he shamelessly groped her, offering Kyle exactly what Tyler had failed to achieve with Diane. Every awkward, deliberate touch felt like a public castration.

Suddenly, Tyler choked out, "We weren't racing." His voice cracked, breaking the thick silence filled only by Diane's sniffles and Lydia's soft sighs. "I was trying to save you, Kyle." Everyone froze—Lydia pulled back slightly, Kyle's hand sliding reluctantly from her ass as she turned. Tyler pointed a trembling finger toward the door. "That dirt road? It's collapsing. The whole fucking quarry edge is falling into the ravine. I saw it when Dad took me surveying last week." Lydia gasped, her nipples visibly tightening beneath her top. "Your GPS was routing you straight toward the landslide zone. I was trying to **** you off the path before you drove off the fucking cliff." He paused, breathing hard. "You smashed into that tree because you were too busy tailgating me to see the warning signs."

The moms stared at Tyler, their mouths slack. Diane clutched her nurse's badge, her robe-like uniform shifting to reveal more cleavage as she trembled. "Landslide?" she whispered, her eyes wide and vacant. "Oh, Ty! You... you sacrificed your BMW?" She wobbled toward him, tears welling. "You could've died!" Lydia nodded fervently, her grocery bag crinkling as she squeezed Tyler's arm. "Sweetheart, that's so brave!" Her yoga pants stretched taut as she leaned in, her breasts brushing his shoulder. "You risked everything for Kyle?" Tyler swallowed, avoiding Kyle's glare. "Yeah," he mumbled, scratching his neck. "Just... trying to help."

Kyle’s hospital gown clung to his damp skin as he pushed himself upright. "Bullshit," he hissed. Pain shot through his ribs, but rage burned hotter. Tyler’s lie tasted like bile—too perfect, too noble. He remembered Tyler’s predatory grin against the BMW, the way he’d drawled "Again." Lydia patted Tyler’s cheek, her thumb lingering too close to his lips. "Don’t be modest, Ty! You saved him!" Her low-cut top gaped as she turned, exposing a dark crescent of nipple. Kyle’s pulse hammered—she was buying it. Worse, she was *gushing*. Diane sniffled, fumbling for tissues in her uniform pocket. It gaped wider, exposing the swell of her breast. "Kyle, apologize!" she demanded. "Tyler’s a hero!"