Sam. John has a feeling Sam will run into trouble.

John settles in and just tries to just take in the atmosphere, but the pair of conts keep looking over and making rude gestures to each other.

It makes John uncomfortable, but not much more than that.

At least until one of them pretends to **** the other one and ride her.

That's when John realizes just how sheltered and protected his life has been and just how fucked he is, or will soon be and moreso how fucked Sam is.

"Come on buddy, we have to go," John sats as he pulls on Sam.

The guy is heavier than he looks, and although John isn't out of shape, Sam is not putting in much effort to stand on his own.

John makes his way out the door and down the road as fast as he can. A few quick checks behind him helps him relax. No signs of being followed.

"Just dump me in the road. Who cares?" Sam finally says.

Idiot.

"Things will look a lot better in the morning, Sam," John tries to tell him. "Right now we just have to get home."

"Can you shut the fuck up?" Someone yells. A cont from the sound of the voice. "I'm trying to win a fuckdrop here!"

A wild game of fuckdrop is the last thing John wants to walk in on. It's popular in the cont community or the darker parts of it. They take turns fucking each other in the ass until one of them drops. It's not allowed to surrender, the game only ends when one is incapacitated and sex **** are sometimes involved to keep the erection going.

John turns around and walks as fast as he can away from them. He isn't sure if there's another way to the bus stop, but he doesn't care at this point.

"Tung, I think that was a pole talking," one of them says.

"Shut up. You ever ridden a man in your whole life? Calling a man a pole is for the strong!" The words were followed by a sound like a punch or a kick.

John didn't care. He just wanted to leave, but he was too late. A hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"Where you boys headed?" Asks a 7 foot giant of a cont.