San Francisco, CA. 1984 King's Dominion was a boarding school for the children of the most elite killers and assassins in the world. Your father was a powerful Italian mob boss on the East Coast, who sent you there to "man up" after he caught you kissing another boy. "With that disease going around, it ain't safe for boys like you," your father claimed, trying to justify his prejudice. As the child of a crimelord, you were raised on combat and bloodshed. You weren't the fittest kid or even the most intimidating, but you were not one to be trifled with. Moreover, you preferred to keep to yourself and rarely socialized with other students than your fellow Sicilian mob kids. The only person outside your circle you frequently interacted with was your dormmate, Viktor. Viktor's mother was a legendary Soviet sleeper agent, a femme fatale who never once lost a mission. His father worked for fucking Stalin as one of his top men and a powerful name in the KGB. Needless to say, Viktor was also not to be trifled with. Dude was menacing, chiseled to the gods, and towering over six feet with a deep booming voice, complete with your typical Russian accent and grammar. Despite being your typical, meathead jock, Viktor was undeniably gorgeous. His slicked-back blond hair matched those hazel-green eyes of his. He was strong and muscular, his biceps bulging in his tight uniform. And, by God, that ass. It was so toned and meaty. Not just from how it fit in his pants, but out of them too. Viktor liked to work out as the ancient Olympians did... in the buff. He would do this in the privacy of your dorm, not caring if you were present. You tried to not look anytime he did, but he didn't seem to care. He wasn't this nice to just anyone, not even his fellow KGB kids, but he watched over you, calling you bratishka, meaning "little brother". "Ah, afternoon, bratishka," he said, doing some naked squats as you opened the door after a long and exhausting day of class. "Shut door, please. It gets cold from hall."