Chapter One: The Space Between Plans
Colt stared at his phone long after the call ended, thumb hovering uselessly over the dark screen.
He already knew what it meant. He just needed a second to accept it.
Two weeks off work—finally approved after months of careful scheduling, traded shifts, and polite persistence—and now the trip itself had slipped sideways. His friend hadn’t sounded dramatic or apologetic, just tired in that bone-deep way Colt recognized instantly.
“Emergency coverage,” he’d said. “I tried everything. I can’t get out of it.”
Colt believed him. That was the problem.
Germany had been the plan for over a year. Guidebooks with folded corners. A shared note full of places they swore they’d see. Jokes about getting lost on purpose. Now Colt sat alone on the edge of his couch, suitcase half-packed, the quiet of his apartment pressing in.
He was good at being dependable. At staying put. At choosing what made sense.
Going alone didn’t make sense.
He made tea, mostly to have something to do with his hands, and stood by the window watching the afternoon light stretch across the street below. His first instinct was to cancel—to reclaim the vacation days, apologize to himself, and tuck the dream back where it had been safe.
But another thought followed, quieter and more persistent.
When will you do this again?
Colt had spent years taking care of other people—patients, coworkers, friends. He liked structure. Liked knowing what was expected. But this was his time. His name was on the ticket. His passport sat ready on the counter like it was waiting to see what he’d choose.
By the time his tea went cold, Colt had zipped the suitcase the rest of the way shut.
Chapter Two: Leaving the Ground
The airport was louder than Colt expected at that hour, full of rolling suitcases and overlapping announcements. He moved through it carefully, checking signs twice, instinctively polite even when no one was in his way.
First class still felt like a mistake—an indulgence he’d talked himself into months ago for the long flight. Now he hovered for half a second before stepping down the aisle, self-conscious in the wide seat and quiet cabin.
“You’re in the right place.”
The voice came from beside him.
Colt looked up to find the man in the window seat already smiling—easy, relaxed, like airports were something he collected rather than endured.
“Oh—thanks,” Colt said, flushing faintly as he stowed his bag. “Still feels unreal.”
“First time?” the man asked.
“First time alone,” Colt admitted before he could overthink it.
The stranger’s expression softened. “That counts.”
They talked in the gentle, unforced way that only happens on planes—where names felt optional and time stretched comfortably. The man asked questions, listened closely, teased lightly when Colt downplayed himself. Colt surprised himself by answering honestly, laughing more than he’d expected.
When the cabin lights dimmed, their conversation faded naturally, but the warmth of it lingered. As they landed, the stranger wished him a good trip, sincere enough that Colt believed it.
It felt like a small victory.
Customs passed in a blur—questions, stamps, the unfamiliar rhythm of another language humming around him.
He’d been awake for most of the flight and was definitely feeling the weight of the jetlag, but he was determined to push through. His luggage came quickly, and he wheeled it out toward the designated pick-up area. The signs were all in German, but Colt felt surprisingly at ease. The airport was busy, but he felt like he could handle this.
He stepped outside and found his ride—a small black car waiting by the curb with a driver holding a sign with his name. The driver, a tall man in his mid-thirties with a scruffy beard and dark hair, greeted him with a warm but somewhat reserved smile. His English was broken, but Colt could tell he was trying.
“Welcome,” the driver said in a thick accent. “You, Colt?”
“Yep, that’s me,” Colt replied, smiling back as he loaded his suitcase into the trunk.
The drive through the city was surprisingly quiet, with the driver’s sporadic English attempts filling the silence. A few blocks in, the driver pointed toward a street corner. “You... there... good bar. Red... um... beer...” He stumbled over a word that Colt didn’t quite catch. “Red... uh... good place.”
Colt tried to make out what he was saying, but the driver’s broken English made it hard. “You mean a place called ‘Red’?” Colt asked, but the driver didn’t seem to understand. He just nodded enthusiastically.
“Good bar,” he repeated, looking at Colt through the rearview mirror. “You check.”
Colt nodded, unsure of what exactly he was being told, but appreciating the recommendation nonetheless. "Thanks," he said as the driver pulled up in front of his hotel.
The man gave a small wave as Colt got out, and for a moment, Colt just stood there, watching the driver pull away. There was something about the guy—maybe it was the way he carried himself, or the fact that he looked like he belonged in a movie—but Colt couldn’t shake the feeling that the evening was starting to take a very interesting turn.
Colt checked into the hotel with minimal fuss, the receptionist offering a warm but professional smile as she handed him his key. The elevator ride was quiet, the motion of the car and the low hum of the motor lulling Colt into a state of exhaustion. By the time he reached the eighth floor, he was ready to collapse into bed, but he knew he couldn’t do that yet.
His room was small, but charming, with a view of the city lights twinkling in the distance. He unpacked quickly, setting his clothes in the closet and putting his toiletries in the bathroom. After a much-needed shower, Colt sat on the edge of the bed, staring out at the night with the thin white towel wrapped around his waist.
It was already 9 p.m. The jetlag hit harder than he’d expected, but he was starving. The idea of stepping out into a foreign city, alone, after such a long day of travel, felt like a big ask. But he was in Germany. Alone. He had to make the most of it.
He grabbed his phone, quickly searching for a place nearby for dinner. He knew he couldn’t stay in his room all night. It was time to take another step outside his comfort zone. He dug into the Google app on his phone as he distractedly walked around his room and then eventually out the large glass doors to the dark balcony.
While looking at his phone Colt stood at the edge of the balcony, letting the cool night air brush over his damp skin. His nipples hardened from the cool breeze. The towel felt like little protection against the chill as it slid lower on his hips, but the sharpness of the breeze was grounding, reminding him that he was no longer in his familiar routine. He wasn’t in his quiet apartment in the city, or on his usual path to work. This was something new—something untethered.
He glanced around, noting the dimly lit hallway of the hotel behind him, and the soft hum of distant city sounds below. The buildings around him were old, their shapes softened by the night. The streetlights gave the scene a kind of surreal glow—everything seemed just slightly out of focus, as though the world hadn’t quite settled into place yet.
His gaze shifted along the length of the balcony. It stretched far beyond his own room, disappearing into the dark, with doors leading into other rooms he would never visit. A few feet to his left two deep voices drew his attention, another set of glass doors led into another hotel room, its curtains drawn but the light within barely noticeable through a small crack in the curtains that showed the bed and the light from the TV flickering. To the right, the darkened patio disappeared around the corner of the old building, where shadows seemed to creep like a slow-moving tide. He looked back to the crack in the curtains as he saw a tall muscled and shirtless, dark haired man move past and sit on the bed inside. The dark balcony hid Colt in the shadows. He watched the handsome man talk to someone just out of view. The voyeuristic nature of the moment made his dick start to swell. A moment later another well muscled man moved past the break in the curtains and it took Colt's breath away for a moment. The man was totally nude as walked over and knelt before the man sitting on the bed. It was clear where things were headed as the kneeling man went to work on the other man's zipper as he stood and then pushed his jeans to his knees before sitting on the bed again. The kneeling man leaned forward as his head began to bob slowly up and down. Colt's dick jumped as it swelled and the thin towel around his waist popped loose and fell to his feet before he could catch it.
Colt's heart was pounding as he reached down to snatch up the towel, quickly looking around to see if he'd been caught spying on the other men. The night still had him wrapped in dark and with a burst of bravery he looked back to the room to see the man sitting on the bed, his hands now holding the kneeling man's head as he guided it up an down on his dick. Colt nervously glanced around again. Looked back a the scene playing out next door. With a nervous hesitation he draped the towel over the balcony railing and then laid his phone on the towel as well. He now stood fully naked on the balcony and turned to watch the scene unfold. The kneeling man's head was bobbing faster now as the man on the bed dripped his head and set the pace. Colt mindlessly wrapped his now free hand around his throbbing cock and with his other free hand he started playing with his nipple as he watched. He was horny and jet lagged and it gave him the boldness to step closer to the door for a better view. The wind was picking up and the cool breeze over his bare body tightened his nipples to hard buds. He was now stroking his dick without hesitation as he watched the man seated on the bed stand and start to fuck the kneel man's mouth with vigor. The next blast of wind across the balcony drove Colt closer to the edge of orgasm. He was feeling the excitement of being in a foreign city, on a public balcony, totally naked, hard, jerking his dick as we watched a real life porno take place just a few feet away. He watched as the now standing man used one foot then the other to step out of his jeans as he continued to fuck the other man's mouth. The huge man then guided the kneeling man to stand and then both men moved toward the patio door. Colt panicked and turned to run back to the safety of his room. He remembered his towel and lunged for the railing to snatch his towel, just before he stumbled and fell forward. He barely caught himself on the railing but in the panic he ended up knocking the towel over the edge. A fraction of second later he remembered his phone before he heard the distinct small smashing sound as it hit the sidewalk below. He looked over the edge, down eight floors as his towel fluttered to landing on the sidewalk. The sound of a deep voice and the old patio door opening behind himself sent him into motion again. The idea of getting caught naked and hard on the patio caught in his throat and without thinking things through he dashed past his own patio door an instead headed to the dark end of the balcony that disappeared around the corner.
As he turned the corner he could see the balcony continued down the other side of the building with more rooms and well lit patio doors beyond. He froze just around the corner. He couldn't move forward and he couldn't go back so he froze with his back to the cold brick wall.
He glanced down to his still hard and throbbing cock standing before him. He thought about his phone now smashed to pieces in front of the small hotel. He summoned the courage to peek back around the corner and his breath once again caught in his throat. The two men now stood on the balcony. The kneeling man now facing the street holding on to the patio railing and the other man standing behind him. One hand gripping his shoulder and the other gripping the man's opposite hip as he fucked him slow and deep. The man holding the railing made no attempt to hide his grunts of pleasure as the wind carried them to Colt's end of the balcony. Without a thought he gripped his dick again and began to stroke as he watched the two men.
Colt was getting close again as he caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. Without slowing his stroking, he turned his head to look across the street. A group of three men stood in a well designed brightly lit condo just across the street and one floor above. They were smiling wide smiles, drinks in hand as they waved to Colt. Two of the guys pretended to be the guys fucking and the other pretended to be Colt as he mimicked jerking his dick in dramatic fashion. Colt was mortified. He had been busted spying. Even worse - he had nowhere to go. He was forced to stay right where he was. As the guys continued to tease him and point. What were they pointing at, Colt looked back the other direction around the corner and could see the two men were reaching a crescendo. The grunts were louder and the sounds of skin slapping skin were intoxicating. A final thrust and Colt watched the man bury himself balls deep and convulse as he gripped both of the other mans' shoulders from behind. Colt wanted badly to finish himself off, but a glance back to the guys across the street and he could see them waving and pointing. Colt glanced the other direction as a new man stepped out onto the balcony a few doors down. The guy was staring across the street and had seen the motion of the men waving and pointing, but he had yet to turn and see Colt.
Colt panicked again and slipped back around the corner. The naked men were now both standing, leaning on the rail as they looked down to the street, bathing in the afterglow. Colt's heart was in his throat as he moved slowly along the wall toward his room as quietly as possible. If either man turned at this moment he would be caught in the act. Naked, boner bouncing free as he slipped toward his patio door. A few more steps and he would be safe. He glanced back to the men across the street in the condo and they were still waving and pointing. Colt was afraid the new man was going to turn the corner at any moment. So he forced himself closer to the two naked men. Three feet to go. Thankfully he had left his patio door open and was able to slip inside without making a noise. He was quietly closing the door when one of the men turned and made eye contact. His dick was still at half mast and he took in the sight of Colt with a raging boner. Colt froze for a moment as the guy smiled and then Colt snatched the curtains closed over the door. HE stood there for a few minutes panting for air before he turned his attention back to the quiet street below, his mind pulling him back to his phone far below. He rushed to get dressed, grabbed his hotel room key card and dashed to the elevator. Sure enough his phone was obliterated. As he stood in the street a bit numb, he was surprised to have his mind flash to the words of the driver. “Red… something…”
To be continued...
Colt stepped out of the hotel’s main entrance, the cool air of the evening wrapping itself around him like a blanket. He had expected to feel the kind of disorientation that usually came with being in a new place, but instead, there was a quiet thrill—a sense of being on the edge of something new, something undefined.
The city around him hummed with the low murmur of traffic, the distant voices of people who lived here, moving in rhythms that were still strange to him. The streets were narrow, cobbled in some places, with old buildings rising up on either side. Each window he passed had its own little world behind it, but for the moment, Colt was outside of all that, walking aimlessly with the quiet whisper of the wind in his ears.
He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Food, probably. But part of him just wanted to keep walking, to let the city carry him where it would.
The driver’s cryptic suggestion about a “good bar” still echoed in his mind, though. The vague instructions, the emphasis on "red," it was enough to spark a flicker of curiosity. He glanced down the narrow street, unsure where he was going, but following an instinct that felt almost like fate pulling him along. Maybe the city would show him something.
As Colt rounded a corner, the neon lights of a nearby sign caught his eye. It wasn’t much—just a faint glow bleeding through the shadows of a quiet alleyway. For a moment, he thought it was nothing at all, just a trick of the light. But then he saw it clearly: a single, dim red neon arrow pointing downward.
Curious, Colt took a step closer, squinting through the shadows. The alley ahead of him was narrow, almost claustrophobic, the buildings crowding in on either side, their outlines softened by the dull light of the street lamps. It felt like a forgotten corner of the city—out of the way, a little hidden from the busy flow of life. The arrow beckoned him further down, a mysterious invitation to follow.
A shiver of excitement ran up his spine, mixing with a flicker of doubt. Was this a bar? Or something else entirely? The light was too muted to be a typical sign—more like an afterthought, tucked away from the world.
He hesitated for a moment. It felt… secretive. Maybe even dangerous. But he had already stepped out into the city with the intent to explore, to get lost in a way he never allowed himself back home. And what better time to take a risk than now, when everything felt new?
With a small breath, Colt took a step toward the alley. The path ahead was dark, but the red glow of the sign made the steps feel a little less daunting. He moved slowly, glancing around as he passed the buildings. The occasional hum of distant voices and car engines seemed muffled here, as if the alley was a pocket of time that existed separately from the rest of the world.
The red neon light flickered again, casting a strange glow against the stone walls. At the end of the alley, a steep set of stairs spiraled down into the basement, where the light seemed to fade into shadows that hid whatever lay beneath. The air here smelled faintly of damp stone and something woodsy, a scent that made Colt's senses feel more awake.
Was this it? The "good bar" the driver had mentioned? It wasn’t exactly what he had imagined—a lively pub with chatter and clinking glasses. But there was something intriguing about it, something that made him want to know more.
The stairs seemed to pulse in the dim light. He could see a faint outline of a door at the bottom of the steps, a shadowed threshold that promised an unknown world beneath the city’s surface. It felt almost forbidden, like a place few would dare to go—just the sort of place he might find a new kind of adventure.
He took the first step.
And then another.
The sound of his shoes echoed softly in the alley as he descended. The air grew cooler as he moved lower, the faint sounds of the street fading away entirely. His heart beat a little faster now, not from fear but from the rush of stepping into something unknown.
As Colt reached the bottom, the neon sign above buzzed slightly, its light casting a soft glow over the stone walls and the heavy wooden door. There was no sign telling him what kind of place this was, no indication of who would be inside. But the low hum of muffled voices and the clink of glass bottles drifting through the cracks in the door suggested it was definitely a bar—or at least, something with a pulse.
He stood there for a moment, hand hovering near the door. The sense of curiosity grew, and it was tempting to push the door open, to step inside and see what waited.
But there was a part of him, deep down, that still wasn’t sure. What if it was too much? Too strange? What kind of people would be inside? He’d been alone in Germany for barely a day—was he ready to dive into this side of the city?
And then, with a deep breath, Colt reached for the handle and pulled the door open.
It took a moment for Colt’s eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. The interior of the place was like stepping into another world—a dark, almost intimate space. The low hum of conversation filled the air, blending with the faint thumping of music from a far-off corner. His gaze flicked over the room: the wood-paneled walls, the flicker of candles on each table, and the faint glow of more red neon lights stretching along the ceiling like veins in a living thing.
The room was small, dark in a way that made Colt feel like he had just stumbled onto something secret. It wasn’t a typical bar—there was an air of quiet mystery about it. The atmosphere was heavy with smoke and the scent of dark liquor, and the people inside seemed to speak in a language all their own. There were a few scattered patrons, most of them speaking in German, but the looks that lingered on Colt felt more than a little out of place. It was almost like they were waiting for something—like the room itself was holding its breath.
Colt had barely stepped inside when a voice broke the silence.
“Was willst du, Freund?”
The man who spoke was enormous—at least six and a half feet tall, with muscles that seemed to ripple even under the faded black T-shirt he wore. His broad shoulders and steely eyes gave him the look of someone who could lift a car with little effort. He stood just inside the curtain, blocking the entrance with his thick arms crossed over his chest. His tone was gruff, and Colt could barely make out a word of what he said, though it sounded something like a question.
Colt blinked, suddenly aware that he was alone in a dark, unfamiliar place. He thought he might be able to navigate the conversation with the little German he knew. After all, he had spent a few months practicing on Duolingo. Surely he could handle this, right?
He took a deep breath, trying to recall a phrase that would explain his presence. What was it he wanted to say? Ah, yes: “Is this a bar? My driver recommended it for a good drink.”
He squared his shoulders and cleared his throat, hoping to pull off something close to what he had in mind. “Ist das eine Bar? Mein Fahrer hat es empfohlen für einen guten... äh...” He paused. He felt his nerves flare up, and instead of “drink,” the next word came out entirely wrong. “...guten Schluck.”
The man’s eyebrows lifted slightly as he stared at Colt for a long moment. Colt could feel the awkwardness settle over him like a thick blanket.
For a second, the burly man didn’t say anything, his gaze shifting slowly over Colt from head to toe, then back up to his face. A slow, amused grin started to stretch across his lips.
Colt’s stomach sank as he realized the mistake he’d made. “Schluck” didn’t mean “drink.” It meant “swallow.”
The man’s eyes twinkled with a glint of amusement, and Colt immediately felt the heat rising to his cheeks. This was not what he had intended.
The bouncer—or whatever the man was—smirked, a deep chuckle rumbling in his throat as he crossed his arms more tightly. “Du bist ein wenig... verloren, nicht wahr?” he said in a tone that was both mocking and strangely kind. “You’re a little... lost?”
Colt’s face burned brighter. He stammered, trying to correct himself. “Oh! No, no—I didn’t mean that! I meant, uh, a drink, like a beer... not... swallow.” His voice faltered, and he was pretty sure he’d never be able to show his face again.
The man’s smile deepened, and he nodded, seemingly understanding Colt’s mix-up. “Kein Problem. Kein Problem,” he said with a wink, his voice deep but oddly reassuring. “You want a drink. Come in.”
He stepped aside, allowing Colt to enter. The man’s grin stayed for a moment longer, like he enjoyed watching the embarrassed tourist squirm just a little. Colt hesitated for a second longer, his embarrassment still lingering in the back of his throat like a sour taste. Then, he took a step forward, pushing through the velvet curtain with a sigh of relief.
As soon as he crossed the threshold, the atmosphere inside felt different. The weight of the conversation and his awkwardness was already starting to slip away, absorbed into the dim light and the soft murmur of voices. The room had a welcoming warmth, a contrast to the chill of the night outside. The air smelled of old wood, tobacco, and something faintly sweet—a mix of aged whiskey and the earthy undertones of something more mysterious.
A few heads turned in his direction, the brief glances casual and indifferent. People here were used to outsiders, it seemed—there was no judgment in the air, only curiosity. Colt felt a small sense of relief. Maybe this place was as much a refuge as it was a mystery.
A bartender, a man with long, dark hair and an mischievous smile, waved him over. His eyes were bright, and his voice carried over the low music as he asked, “What can I get you?"
Colt smiled weakly, still feeling the echoes of his earlier mistake. He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the tension. “A beer, please,” he said, his accent thick but clear this time. “Just a beer.”
The bartender nodded and slid a glass in front of him and walked away.
Colt sat down at the bar, his fingers tapping nervously against the wood. His mind was still processing everything—his awkward introduction, the strange ambiance of the place, and the undeniable pull of this new experience.
It was a good start. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this place than met the eye. Something deeper. Something that maybe, just maybe, he was meant to uncover
Colt picked up his glass of whiskey, the amber liquid swirling in the bottom as he took another slow sip. The warmth spread through him, dissolving some of the lingering tension from his earlier blunder. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into him tonight—maybe the jetlag, maybe the unfamiliarity of being alone in a new city, but it felt like he had stepped into a world where the usual rules didn’t apply. Everything felt a little softer here, like the edges of his life back home had blurred.
His eyes, however, kept drifting toward the far corner of the room, where the thick dark curtains seemed to hold a secret. Every few minutes, a man would get up from his seat, walk toward the curtains, and disappear behind them, vanishing from sight as if the room itself swallowed him whole. Colt had made a few trips to the bar, ordered another drink—whiskey this time—and continued to observe. He didn’t know why, but his curiosity seemed to tug at him stronger than the alcohol in his veins.
As he reached the bottom of his drink, he felt the buzz of the whiskey settle into his chest, warming him from the inside out. He looked down at the empty glass, mind a little foggy, but still focused on that corner. He found himself watching the curtains again, imagining what might lie behind them. Maybe it was just another part of the bar, maybe a lounge or a private area. Or… maybe something else entirely. Something a little less innocent.
Just as he was about to set the empty glass on the table and leave, a shadow fell over him. He looked up and saw the burly bouncer from earlier standing at his side, the same expression of quiet amusement on his face.
He spoke quickly in German, his voice low, but still carrying that slightly teasing edge Colt had come to recognize. Colt’s brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the words, his mind still a little fuzzy from the alcohol.
The only word he caught clearly was “Schluck.” Swallow. Oh, no. Not again.
It seemed the man was teasing him about his earlier mistake, but Colt couldn’t be sure. The rest of what he said was a jumble—stairs, tunnel, bull, night, dance. Words that didn’t seem to connect in any logical way. Colt’s mind raced to piece them together, but it wasn’t happening. He was too tipsy, and the language barrier didn’t help.
He didn’t want to embarrass himself again, though, so he did the only thing he could think of—he nodded and gave the bouncer a nervous smile, hoping he wasn’t missing something important. The last thing he wanted was to look like an idiot for a third time.
To his surprise, the bouncer seemed satisfied with the gesture. He pointed to the far corner of the bar, the area where the men had been disappearing behind the curtains. Colt’s heart skipped a beat. Could it be? Was the bouncer actually inviting him to go back there?
The bouncer took a step back and looked at Colt, then walked toward the corner where the curtains hung. Colt watched as the man reached the wall, then paused, turning to give him a final glance. With one smooth motion, he grabbed the heavy curtain and pulled it aside, exposing the passageway behind it.
The space beyond the curtain was shrouded in darkness, with only the faintest glow from the dimly lit bar spilling through. Colt could feel his pulse quicken in his throat. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but whatever it was, it was pulling him in.
He looked down at his empty glass, then back at the bouncer, whose eyes were locked onto him with an unreadable expression. The world outside felt so far away, and the tension in the room suddenly felt like a living thing—charged, thick with unspoken possibilities.
The bouncer didn’t wait. He just held the curtain open for Colt and gave him a subtle nod, almost as if he was daring him to take the first step. Colt hesitated for only a second—his curiosity burning too brightly, the alcohol loosening his inhibitions—and then, without thinking too much, he stood up, the weight of his decision settling on his shoulders like a strange new coat.
As he stepped forward, the sound of the bar faded behind him, swallowed up by the heavy velvet curtain that fell back into place as soon as he crossed through it. The air on the other side was different—cooler, almost damp, with the faint scent of incense and something earthy. It was darker here, and the passageway ahead was narrow, the walls lined with thick wood paneling that creaked underfoot.
A soft murmur of voices reached him from further ahead, the low hum of conversation mixing with an occasional burst of laughter. He moved cautiously, his steps echoing slightly in the silence. As he walked deeper into the dimly lit corridor, he noticed the faint glow of more red neon signs, their flickering lights casting long shadows along the walls. The atmosphere here was different from the bar, more intimate, more mysterious. Like a hidden part of the city that not everyone was meant to see.
At the end of the passage, Colt came to a small set of stairs that descended further into what looked like a basement. The stairs were made of worn stone, uneven and steep, but the glow from the neon signs below illuminated the way. He took a deep breath and started down, his heart racing as the anticipation built.
