I can do this. 

If he didn't break this cycle of dependency now, he would just find a new master to please, a new authority to crave. Weaning himself off Samuel would be easier than the years he'd spent weaning himself off his parents. They'd only known each other for two months.

Julian understood the logic. But logic didn't stop the ache. People weren't machines.

If Samuel were ordinary—if he were cruel or ugly or mediocre—Julian wouldn't be struggling this much. But Samuel was a masterpiece. And walking away from a masterpiece was the hardest thing Julian had ever done.

Samuel was a jagged peak Julian had spent months climbing—a destination that cost everything to reach, offering a view so breathtaking it could heal a dying heart.

Julian had trekked across an emotional wilderness to stand there, and walking away felt like an amputation.

But every journey has an end. Reality was waiting back at sea level.

Julian forced the distance. He could police his thoughts, but his body was a traitor.

Every time he closed his eyes, he felt the ghost of Samuel's weight: those long, elegant fingers, the crushing strength of his arms, the heat of his chest and the hard line of his thighs.

Julian suspected he had a mild case of skin hunger. Why else was he so pathologically drawn to the man?

After Samuel appeared in his dreams yet again, Julian reached a breaking point. He needed a fix that didn't involve his boss.

He posted a "One-Day Couple" casting call on social media, looking for a creator to collaborate on a video—a tactical move to satisfy his need for contact while keeping it professional. The applications flooded in, men and women alike.

Julian chose a six-foot, sun-darkened athlete with a following similar to his own. Two days before the New York City winter break, they met to shoot. It was too cold for a performance in lace, so Julian stayed in menswear.

The jock was even more handsome in person, his personality a steady stream of "good vibes" that Julian appreciated. They started by walking side-by-side. When the mall grew crowded, the boy reached out and took Julian's hand. His palm was broad and hot, his grip tight enough to sting. Julian didn't pull away; he could feel the nervous tremor in the boy's fingers.

They spent the day together, the intimacy peaking at a final, lingering hug in front of the camera. This was the third man Julian had ever held, after Samuel and Orca. The athlete's shoulders were a wide, warm expanse, but as Julian leaned into him, his pulse remained a flat, steady line.

It was warm. And that was all.

The "skin hunger" theory crumbled. He wasn't hungry for skin; he was hungry for Samuel.

They parted ways at the subway entrance. Julian was about to board when the boy caught his arm. "Is it really just for a day?".

Julian blinked, taking in the boy's earnest expression. "You haven't even seen my face".

"I don't care about the face," the boy replied. "I like who you are".

Julian gave a small, sad shake of his head. He wasn't looking for a relationship. "Maybe another time," he lied, stepping into the train. He knew he would never call him.

The menswear vlog was a surprise hit. He expected the fans to revolt without the skirts, but the reaction was electric.

[Is this what baby looks like in real life? He looks so soft.]

[The height difference! Look at the tension!]

[Wait, where is my @Orca Daddy? Why isn't he in this??]

Julian scrolled through the comments, his face illuminated by the blue light of his phone.

@WorkIsKillingMe: Relax. It's just business.

With the realization that he didn't actually want to touch anyone else, Julian gave up the "One-Day Couple" search. He'd spend the holidays alone, filming solo content. He used his year-end bonus to buy a new wardrobe of dresses, stopping by the vintage boutique near his apartment on a whim.

He found a piece that was perfect—the right price, the right silhouette. He told the clerk it was a gift for a "girlfriend".

He was waiting at the counter to pay when the bell chimed.

Samuel Frost stepped inside.

The boutique, already small, became a vice. The air turned thin. Julian's mind raced through his lies, trying to find a script that explained why he was standing there with a dress in his hands.

Samuel didn't ask. He didn't even look at the bag. "You're staying in the city for the New Year?".

It was the 29th of the lunar month. Julian lied again. "I'm leaving tomorrow".

Samuel watched him for a beat, his expression unreadable. He didn't say another word. Julian grabbed his bag and bolted.

Back at the duplex, Julian changed into the dress immediately. He had only been admiring himself in the mirror for a few minutes when his phone buzzed. A DM from Orca.

@Orca: You're looking for a one-day couple?

Julian didn't see the point in hiding it now.

@WorkIsKillingMe: Yes.

@Orca: Why?

@WorkIsKillingMe: For a video. What?

@Orca: Frequent shallow intimacy won't help you, boy.

Julian's fingers flew over the glass, his temper spiking.

@WorkIsKillingMe: Who are you to judge me?

@Orca: I'm concerned.

@WorkIsKillingMe: Don't bother. Mind your own business or I'll block you.

The dots on the screen pulsed.

@Orca: If you truly can't endure being alone... find me instead.

@WorkIsKillingMe: ?

@Orca: Anything they can do, I can do better.

Julian stared at the message. The hypocrisy was staggering. This man had spent weeks lecturing Julian on boundaries, and now he was pitching a collaboration.

But Orca and Samuel were too similar. Choosing Orca was like fighting fire with fire. Julian was tired, and he was still nursing a grudge against the man who had abandoned him in that foyer.

@WorkIsKillingMe: You're sure about this?

@Orca: Yes.

Julian looked at his reflection—the lace, the silk, the boy underneath it all.

@WorkIsKillingMe: Fine. But don't expect me to be gentle with you.