Ethan scrolled through his phone late one night, sprawled out on his childhood bed in his parents' suburban home. It was the middle of winter break, and the 20-year-old college sophomore was bored out of his mind. Classes at his university in the city had wrapped up two weeks ago, and with most of his high school friends scattered or busy, he'd resorted to endless browsing on social media and random forums. He was fit—6 feet tall, lean from pickup basketball games and the occasional gym session, with long blonde hair, hazel eyes, and a casual style that screamed "college kid": hoodies, jeans, and sneakers. But the break felt stagnant, like he was itching for something new, something outside his routine.

That's when the ad popped up in a local classifieds app he'd downloaded on a whim. It was buried under "Services" in the health and wellness section: "Experienced Middle-Aged Professional Offering Free Physical Exams for Young Men (18-25). Discreet, At-Home Service. Focus on General Health, Fitness, and Wellness. No Insurance Needed. Reply for Details." The poster called himself Dr. Harlan—though Ethan noted the quotes around "Dr." in the ad, suggesting it might not be official. The profile picture was a generic stock image of a stethoscope, and the location was listed as a quiet neighborhood about 20 minutes from Ethan's house.

Ethan paused, his thumb hovering over the screen. It was weird, right? A random guy offering physicals at his home? But something about it intrigued him. He'd skipped his annual checkup this year due to being away at school, and the idea of a "free" exam sounded convenient. Plus, there was an undercurrent of curiosity—why young men specifically? Was it some kind of scam, or just a quirky hobby? He read the ad again, noting the emphasis on "comprehensive" and "thorough." His heart rate picked up a bit; he wasn't sure if it was nerves or excitement. After a few minutes of debating, he tapped "Contact" and typed a quick message: "Hey, saw your ad. I'm 20, home from college, interested in the exam. What's the deal?"

The response came almost immediately: "Hello Ethan (from your profile). Glad you reached out. I'm Harlan, 57, retired nurse practitioner. I offer these exams as a community service to help young guys stay on top of their health without the hassle of clinics. Completely private, no records kept. We can schedule for tomorrow afternoon if you're free. Address: 142 Oakridge Lane. Bring ID to confirm age."

Ethan stared at the message. Retired nurse practitioner? That sounded legit enough. He googled the address quickly—it was a normal-looking house in a middle-class suburb. No red flags popped up in a cursory search for "Harlan" plus the town name. Still, he felt a mix of apprehension and thrill. What if it was awkward? What if it was... more than just medical? But he was an adult, curious, and honestly a little adventurous after months of dorm life drudgery. He replied: "Sounds good. 2 PM work?"

"Perfect. See you then. Wear comfortable clothes—underwear optional for full exam."

Ethan's eyebrows shot up at that last part. Underwear optional? Okay, this was definitely leaning into unusual territory. He spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, imagining scenarios. By morning, he'd convinced himself it was harmless—probably just an eccentric guy who liked helping out. He showered, ate a quick lunch, and drove over in his beat-up Honda Civic, arriving right on time.

The house was unassuming: a two-story colonial with a neatly trimmed lawn and a "Welcome" mat. Harlan answered the door promptly—a stocky man in his late 50s, about 5'10", with salt-and-pepper hair, a trimmed beard, and wire-rimmed glasses. He wore jeans and a khaki-colored shirt, looking more like a suburban dad than a doctor, but he had a stethoscope draped around his neck and a warm, professional smile.

"Ethan? Come on in. ID please, just to confirm." Ethan handed over his driver's license, and Harlan nodded approvingly. "Twenty, perfect. Follow me to the exam room."

He led Ethan to a cozy living room. It was set up like a makeshift clinic: a padded exam table covered in fresh paper with medical tools (scale, blood pressure cuff, otoscope, reflex hammer, gloves) and even a privacy screen in the corner. Soft lighting and a faint scent of antiseptic made it feel semi-legit. Harlan gestured for Ethan to sit on the table.

"First, a bit of history. Any medical issues? Allergies? Family history?" They chatted for about 10 minutes—Ethan mentioned his occasional asthma as a kid, no allergies, and a generally healthy family. Harlan jotted notes on a clipboard, asking about diet, exercise, sleep, and stress from college. It felt routine, easing Ethan's nerves. "Alright, let's start the physical. I'll check vitals first. Shirt off, please."

Ethan peeled off his hoodie and t-shirt, revealing his toned chest and abs from casual workouts. Harlan wrapped the blood pressure cuff around his arm: "120/78—excellent." Then temperature (normal), pulse (72 bpm), and respiration. He listened to Ethan's heart and lungs with the stethoscope, pressing the cold metal against his skin. "Sounds strong. Good cardio health." Next, he checked eyes, ears, nose, and throat with the otoscope and light. "Clear. No issues."

Moving on, Harlan had Ethan stand for height and weight: "6 feet, 170 pounds—ideal BMI." He tested reflexes by tapping knees and elbows, then asked Ethan to walk across the room for gait assessment. "Balance is good." Palpating the neck, he checked lymph nodes and thyroid: "No swelling." Then abdomen—Ethan lay back as Harlan pressed gently around his stomach and organs. "Feels normal, no tenderness."

"Now, for the musculoskeletal check. Arms up, rotate shoulders." Harlan guided Ethan's movements, checking range of motion in arms, legs, and back. He had him bend, twist, and squat. "Flexible, no joint issues. You're in great shape for your age."

Ethan felt more relaxed now, the process feeling thorough and non-threatening. But then Harlan said, "Okay, we'll move to the genital and rectal exam. This is comprehensive to check for any abnormalities—hernias, testicular health, prostate. Pants and underwear off, please. You can cover with this sheet if you like." He handed over a thin paper drape.

Ethan hesitated for a second, his face flushing, but he complied, stepping out of his jeans and boxers. He was average build down there—uncircumcised, about 4 inches soft, with trimmed pubic hair. He sat back on the table, draping the sheet over his lap. Harlan gloved up, explaining each step calmly.

"First, visual inspection." He lifted the sheet gently. "Skin looks healthy—no rashes or lesions. Pubic hair distribution normal for a young adult." Ethan shifted uncomfortably, but Harlan's tone was clinical. "Now, palpation of the testicles. I'll check for lumps or swelling. Relax your legs."

Harlan cupped Ethan's scrotum, rolling each testicle between his fingers. "Left testicle: smooth, about 4.5 cm long, 3 cm wide—normal size and consistency. No masses." He measured with a small caliper tool from the desk, noting it down. "Right one: similar, 4.6 cm long, 3.1 cm wide. Epididymis feels fine on both sides—no tenderness." Ethan winced slightly at the pressure, but it wasn't painful. "Good symmetry. You're producing well—scrotum is appropriately relaxed."

Next, the penis. "Inspecting the shaft and glans." Harlan gently retracted the foreskin. "Foreskin retracts easily—no phimosis. Glans is clean, no smegma buildup. Urethral opening normal." He measured along the top: "Flaccid length: 10 cm from base to tip. Circumference: 9 cm—average for your age." Ethan felt exposed, a mix of embarrassment and odd arousal stirring, but he stayed soft. Harlan commented, "No scars or abnormalities. Veins look healthy."

"For the hernia check, stand up and cough while I palpate the inguinal canals." Ethan stood, sheet aside. Harlan pressed fingers into the groin area on each side. "Cough—good, no hernias. Scrotal support is strong."

Finally, the rectal portion. "This checks the prostate. Bend over the table, feet apart." Ethan complied, face burning. Harlan lubed a gloved finger. "Relax—deep breath." The insertion was quick but invasive. "Prostate: smooth, about 3 cm across, no enlargement or nodules. Feels normal for a 20-year-old—firm but not hard." He withdrew after a few seconds. "All clear."

Harlan stepped back, removing gloves. "That's it. Everything checks out—you're in peak health. Any questions?" Ethan dressed quickly, mumbling thanks, his mind racing from the intimacy of it all. As he left, Harlan handed him a card: "Come back anytime." Driving home, Ethan replayed the details, wondering if boredom had led him to something strangely exhilarating. Break wasn't so dull anymore.