The air in the small, dimly lit room is thick with tension as the gay companion, his eyes never leaving CJ's face, begins to slowly, deliberately, grind his crotch against CJ's thigh. CJ's breath hitches, his heart pounding in his chest as he feels the unmistakable hardness pressing against him. The gay companion's hand, seemingly innocently, rests on CJ's knee, his thumb brushing against the inside of CJ's thigh, dangerously close to CJ's now throbbing cock. CJ swallows hard, his mind racing, as the gay companion leans in, his lips centimeters away from CJ's, whispering, "You're not as straight as you think, are you, CJ?"