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The photo that goes with the story is available on my subscription tier NSFW SUPER HUNG GIANTS and CUM CANNONS The air smelled like salt and spilled beer. A loose volleyball rolled past Jeremy's bare feet, kicking up tiny sprays of sand. Someone had draped a towel over the bar stool next to him—probably to avoid sitting on the damp, warm seat where condensation kept collecting. "So uh," said Jack, wiping his hands on his shorts, "you just... walk around like that all the time?" He gestured vaguely toward Jeremy's waistline, then quickly stuffed his hands in his pockets like he wasn't sure what to do with them. The others snickered, shuffling closer. Jeremy shrugged, shifting his weight slightly. The movement made his shadow stretch longer across the sand. "What's the point of hiding it?" His grin was easy, careless. One of the guys—Mike, maybe—choked on his drink and had to turn away coughing while the rest burst into laughter. Jack didn't laugh. He just kept staring, his

"You ever just wanna… break something?" The deep voice cut through the subway's dull hum like a switchblade. Miles blinked, realizing the question was directed at him. His gaze traveled upward—way upward—from the physics textbook in his lap to the mountain of a man wedged beside him on the bench. The guy’s shoulders barely fit within the seat’s confines, his biceps testing the limits of his white tank top’s armholes. Miles swallowed. "Uh," he managed. "Not really?" A chuckle. The guy flexed his fingers, knuckles popping like firecrackers. "Smart. I do." He said it casually, like commenting on the weather. Miles glanced at the other passengers—none of them reacting. The elderly woman across from them kept knitting, the teen in earbods bobbed his head obliviously. Meanwhile, the subway’s fluorescent lights flickered, casting the giant’s shadow over Miles in brief, swallowing pulses. Then, without warning, the man stood. The train lurched around a curve, but he didn’t sway. His