Where There's A Will: Part 7

The first of this weeks Triple Drop

Chapter Seven

Cody moved through the manor’s corridors like a man possessed, his powerful steps echoing off the dark wood paneling. He did not spend much time inside the ancient, shambling home, aside from those nights in the store room when Arnold would wait for him,crystal tumbler in hand, perversions at the ready. But he knew the layout enough to figure out where the gym was. Tentatively, he moved down the short corridor that led to the glass double-doors. The air grew silent. And then, a muffled cry. “Brent?” Cody yelled out, and moved forward into the facility.

Inside the gym, equipment gleamed under modern lights that seemed jarringly bright compared to the manor’s Gothic gloom. Mirrors lined the walls, reflecting racks of weights, treadmills, and weight machines. The air smelled faintly of burnt metal. But Cody hardly noticed the amenities or the eerie hush. His gaze fell instantly on a sight that made his heart lurch into his throat.

Brent was at the far side of the room, standing precariously on tiptoe near one of the cable weight machines. Arms tied behind his back. The big quarterback—now undeniably an adult, thick with heroic musculature—was in a terrible predicament. Two sets of cables ran from the weight stack: one looped around his neck in a makeshift noose, the other circled indecently around his enormous erection. Both cables threaded back into the machine’s weight stack. If Brent lost his erection, the stack would drop, yanking him painfully upwards and hanging him. His huge cock dripped pre-cum into a pool on the rubber floor mats below, the member bloated and an angry purple-red from the tight cable wrapped around its considerable girth.

Cody rushed forward, eyes darting over the contraption. Brent’s arms trembled with the strain of holding his stance, and sweat glistened on his brow. He was fully nude. His massive musculature on full display, the muscles tensed and quivering as he stood on tip-toe. The obscene and horrifying sight made Cody’s pulse accelerate for more reasons than fear alone. Brent’s broad shoulders were corded with muscle, straining with each breath. The cut of his thick pectorals and abs looked impossibly defined, streaked with perspiration that glistened under the sterile lights.

“Brent!” Cody rasped out, voice tight with worry. “Hold on—I’m here.” He said, whipping off the blindfold and taking out the sock from his mouth.

Brent’s eyes snapped open. Relief flooded his face, followed by a flicker of embarrassment. “Cody!” he gasped, forcing a shaky grin. “He – he trapped me. I—I’m stuck. If I… lose my…” Brent grimaced. “If I lose my hard-on, the weight stack’ll slam down. It’ll choke me.”

Cody let out a curse under his breath. Without hesitation, he maneuvered closer, trying to figure out the best way to loosen the cables.  “Hang on,” he murmured, voice gentler than his expression. “I’m gonna find a way to get you out of this.” 

He found the main pin for the weight stack and fiddled with it, glancing at the taut cables. If it dropped too quickly, it’d snap tight around Brent’s neck and hang him. If he let the tension ease on the lower cable first, the same thing could happen. 

Carefully, Cody coaxed the tension up, taking it into his own hands. His powerful arms bulged beneath the strain as he seized the cable looped around Brent’s huge cock. The younger man gave a trembling gasp; even in mortal danger, the sensation of Cody’s hand pressed at his member a ripple of sensation through them both.

“Breathe,” Cody urged, teeth gritted. “I’m not gonna let you fall.”

Brent swallowed hard. “I’m trying.” His voice wavered between fear and a strange, undercurrent longing. “He—Gibson—did this. He tricked me and blindfolded me, then tied me to these fucking weights.” Bitterness flashed in his hazel eyes. “He said if I wanted to ‘prove my worth,’ I had to show I could stay like this until dawn.” 

Cody’s jaw tightened. “He’s as twisted as Arnold was.” There were so many questions, so much fury, but first he needed to free Brent. Cody fought the urge to stare—stark though the situation was, there was no denying the magnetic pull of Brent’s physique. Hours of training under a harsh regimen—plus that ban on cumming—had turned the newly minted eighteen-year-old high school star into a specimen of towering muscle and latent power. His shoulders broadened into carved arcs thick enough to strain even the most generously cut shirts, while the steep cliff of his traps flowed into a neck that somehow remained corded and elegant, despite the sheer mass of his build. The sweat beading over his pecs glistened in the electric light, accentuating the sculpted ridges there and drawing the eye down to his corrugated abdomen, each bulge and hollow so precise it looked chiseled from stone. Even his thighs, with muscles flaring each time he shifted his stance, hinted at staggering strength, as if he could sprint the length of a football field in mere seconds. Beneath it all, his chest rose and fell with nervous anticipation, glistening with perspiration that trailed lazily along the cut of his obliques and disappeared to trail along the edge of his breathtaking of manhood—an image that drove a pulse of both protectiveness and desire straight through Cody’s core.

He took his hand away from Cody's cock and re-evaluated. No, the solution had to come from the upper cable. He untied the top cable from the weight stack, seeing as it was the simplest to remove, letting the tension drop from Brent’s neck. Brent gasped, as he felt the tension of release with the second loop around his neck, falling back onto the soles of his feet. He winced at the movement, his strangled cock still painfully hard and noosed. The cord pressed into the root of his manhood, accentuating his robust endowment, so large it almost defied logic. But Cody had no time to admire it; he needed to act quickly. 

He forced himself to focus on his next task: loosening the lower cable, the one wrapped lewdly around Brent's throbbing erection. 

Cody’s fingers managed to untangle the knot that held the twists of cable wrapped around Brent’s member. But the sudden release made the lower cable uncoil suddenly from Brent’s cock, the pulleys giving a shrill squeal as the weight stack fell. Brent hissed in pain. His triceps quivered; every carved inch of him was taut with tension. Cody quickly grabbed the cable and slowed its release, preventing any further burn along that jaw-breaking shaft. He guided it off Brent’s cock, mindful not to trap any sensitive flesh in the process. Finally, he was freed from the trap. 

For a moment, neither man moved. Brent stood still, chest heaving, neck ringed with a faint red line where the rope had dug in. Sweat beaded across his brow, and his eyes were wide, pupils dilated. Cody exhaled, letting the tension melt from his shoulders. He stood up and moved behind Brent, untying his hands.

“All right,” he said, voice rough. “You’re safe.” 

Brent opened his mouth to speak, but the words never came. He turned to face him, but knees buckled, relief washing over him in a wave so potent he almost collapsed into Cody’s arms. Cody caught him easily, hooking an arm around Brent’s waist. The younger man’s body pressed against him, hot and trembling, every sculpted ridge of his torso warm. Cody’s own heart thundered. The proximity was overwhelming—a heady mixture of adrenaline, lust, and a protective instinct that threatened to drive him wild.

“Cody–,” Brent managed at last, voice hoarse. He buried his face in the crook of Cody’s neck. For a moment, they stood like that, until Brent straightened up, his face flush with anger.

“That fucking psycho, Gibson,” Brent said, breath ragged. “He tried to–” Brent shook with rage and humiliation. “He left me here to fucking die! I was yelling, but the gag – I didn’t think anyone would come. But then you showed up.”

Cody’s bit off a curse as he started to absorb what had just happened. “He’s as bad as Arnold, maybe worse. This house is a nightmare.”

Brent nodded, breath hitching. He glanced away, chest still heaving. Cody tried to catch his gaze, and finally, those hazel eyes locked on him. Pain, fear, and a flicker of grateful warmth swam in their depths.

“What do we do now?” Brent asked. 

Something sparked inside Cody, an old protective streak that flared brighter than it ever had. “We’re not letting them toy with us anymore,” the landscaper growled. “Arnold’s gone. Gibson’s just a pig with half a fortune. That doesn’t mean he owns you—or me. We stay safe, keep our heads down, and make it ‘til morning. Let the rest tear each other apart.”

A faint grin tugged at Brent’s lips, but tears rimmed his eyes, so faint you’d miss them if not watching closely. “But where can we hide? You heard Arnold’s threat.”

Cody’s arms tightened around him. “We stick together,” he whispered. “If Gibson tries anything, we’ll handle him. He’s not half as strong as you, even if he’s cunning. And as for the rest—look, no matter what they’re doing, you and I need to watch each other’s backs.” A small laugh rumbled in his chest. “I always wanted to spend the night with you, anyway.”

That brought a genuine smile to Brent’s face, though the corners of his mouth still trembled with the aftershock of terror. “Guess it took a dead pervert’s mansion and a sadistic half-brother for that to happen.”

Cody shook his head. “We deserve better than this.” Then, the tension between them shifted. The old longing that had smoldered all summer, that had threatened to explode on so many occasions, rose up like an unstoppable tide. Brent’s hands slid across Cody’s shoulders, fingers gripping the thick slope of his traps. Cody felt his own chest tighten, the warmth of the younger man’s body stirring cravings he’d tried to bury ever since Arnold blackmailed Brent into that horrifying engagement.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the fluorescent lights revealing every contour of their frames—Cody’s broad chest and bulging arms, Brent’s torso with its Herculean proportions. The brush of their breath felt intimate, each exhalation tangling with the other’s. A frisson of energy pulsed between them, part relief, part desire, all overshadowed by the reality of the night. Then, almost in tandem, they leaned closer.

The kiss started tentative, lips barely brushing, a question more than an answer. Brent’s breath caught in his throat. Without pulling away, Cody let his hands slip around Brent’s waist, relishing the searing heat of that hard body pressed to his. Brent’s mouth parted in a soft moan, and the sound lit a fuse inside Cody, who responded by deepening the kiss. He felt Brent’s cock – bruised but still rock hard – throb against his leg, and his own responded in kind.

They stood locked together in the center of the silent gym, the machinery and mirrors witness to the vow they made with their lips. It was messy, urgent, and underpinned with months of frustration that neither had dared voice until now. 

Slowly, Cody pulled back, pressing his forehead to Brent’s. The younger man’s eyes fluttered open, still hazy with adrenaline and yearning. “We need to get out of here,” Cody said, voice thick. “Or find someplace safe for the night. If Gibson comes back…”

Brent just nodded, swallowing. “Arnold’s invitation said I was to stay in his room, the master suite. We can go there. Lock the door. Maybe push something in front of it to keep anyone out.”

A faint grin played at Cody’s mouth. “If the intent was to take you out somewhere else in the manor, Gibson failed. We should be safe there then. We’ll go together.” He paused, eyes flickering around the gym. He lowered his voice. “We still need to be careful. But I have ideas about where the other part of the fortune might be hidden.” He looked to the hunky quarterback, who’s eyes lit up. “But first – we need to get you cleaned up and safe.” He drew a thumb to Brent’s cheek, wiping away a tear.

They lingered one more moment in each other’s arms, the hush of the gym swirling around them. Then, gripping Brent’s hand, Cody guided him toward the door. Whatever twisted games Arnold’s ghost and Gibson’s sadism had unleashed, the two of them would face it side by side—and this time, no one would tear them apart.