Jake arrives early and sits with one ankle crossed over the other knee. Carson said the doctor was thorough but fair and mostly just talked. Jake is twenty, blond, blue-eyed, five-eleven, and the eight-pack shows cleanly under the thin white T-shirt. He has never been sick. The whole thing will be over quickly. Nothing bothers him. That is the story he has been telling himself since Carson described it. He keeps his posture easy so the front desk will not see any hesitation.

A younger doctor in a white coat stops beside the chair. “You’re here for the company physical?”

“Yeah. Jake.”

“Dr. Hale.” The younger man smiles. His eyes move once over the T-shirt and the way Jake sits. “Full baseline?”

“That’s what they said.”

Dr. Whitaker comes out of the back hallway. He has already heard the front desk mention that Hale’s regular patient called and is on the way in with chest pain. He keeps his tone light.

“Morning. I examined Jake’s friend Carson yesterday. This is the full ninety-minute company physical—intimate portions included. Jake may prefer the doctor who already knows the form.” He looks at Jake. “You’re welcome to choose.”

Hale’s expression brightens. He expects the choice to go to him. Jake looks from the older man to the younger one and says, “Dr. Hale is fine.” The choice feels like a small piece of control. He tells himself the younger doctor will be faster, less likely to linger.

Hale’s glance at Whitaker is quick and satisfied. Whitaker hands him the clipboard. Hale’s eyes travel down the required sections—shaft, foreskin, glans, testicles, perineum, digital rectal, anoscopic evaluation. The realization that he will be the one performing every part of it on the twenty-year-old is immediate. He is still looking at the form when the receptionist appears.

“Dr. Hale, your patient is here. He’s in room two and says the pain is worse.”

Hale’s face changes. He passes the clipboard back. “You’re with Dr. Whitaker, then.” The look he gives Whitaker on the way past is brief and knowing. Whitaker takes the form without comment. The body is his after all. He already examined the friend. Now the second one is in front of him. The brother may follow.

In the consultation room Whitaker sets the clipboard down. “Dr. Hale was called away. I will complete the examination. The form is the same.”

Jake hears the flat delivery. The choice he just made has been removed. The small piece of control is gone. Whitaker thinks the correction in status is already useful. He will not make the exam easier for it. The ninety minutes are his. He examined Carson yesterday. The contrast between the two will be in the chart by the end of the afternoon.

“Remind me what brought you in today.”

“Company baseline physical. Carson said you were thorough but fair.”

Whitaker writes the name. Thorough is about to be demonstrated on a body that has never been required to stay still for it. He already knows what Carson looked like under the same lights. This one is thicker through the chest.

“Any medications? Any issues?”

“Nothing. Last real physical was high school sports. They barely looked.”

“Most men your age have never had a complete genital and rectal examination. That does not change the requirement.”

Jake’s posture tightens a fraction. The high-school doctor never made them drop their shorts all the way. This one just named the difference. He keeps his face neutral. Inside, the ordinary assumption he walked in with is already thinner.

“How many partners in the last year?”

“Four or five.”

“How often do you masturbate?”

The neck warms. “A few times a week. Sometimes more.” The question lands harder than he expected. He tells himself it is just paperwork.

“Any trouble with erections or ejaculation? Pain?”

“No.”

Whitaker notes the flush. The construction-site confidence is already thinner and the clothes are still on. He turns the form so Jake can see the checkboxes.

“Complete inspection of shaft, foreskin, glans, testicles, perineum, digital rectal exam, and anoscopic evaluation. Required for all personnel. Many men your age find parts of it embarrassing. That is normal. It is still necessary.”

“I’m healthy. I don’t have any issues down there.” He will not let the old man see that any of it bothers him. The sentence feels thinner once it is out.

“We can talk about it as we go.” The man has heard an opening that is not there. The form is absolute.

They move to the exam room. The gown is on the table.

“You can change behind the screen if you prefer. Or here. Gown over your underwear.”

Jake takes the gown. At least he keeps the underwear. He steps behind the screen, removes the T-shirt and jeans, leaves the black briefs on, and ties the gown loosely. When he comes out he feels covered. Cool air reaches his calves. His face stays calm. The briefs still feel like a boundary.

“We have the full ninety minutes blocked. That is enough time to be thorough.”

Jake hears the number. It will not be rushed. Ninety minutes is longer than he pictured.

“You may untie the gown.”

Jake’s fingers work the ties. The gown falls open. Cool air hits his chest. The pecs are thick, high, and sharply separated. The dark line of hair starts at the navel and runs into the waistband. Whitaker does not move for several seconds. He simply looks. The chest is better in person than the photo. The separation is deep, the nipples already tight from the air. He can take the time the form allows. Carson’s chest was solid. This one sits higher.

The doctor is looking at his chest. Not checking it. Looking. Jake keeps his shoulders square and does not look away.

Whitaker steps in. His gloved hands are warm. He spends longer than he spent on Carson, using both thumbs to trace the deep separation repeatedly. “Marking the borders.” He rolls each nipple for a full five seconds, then returns to the first and rolls it again. The tissue firms further under the gloves. He thinks the response is immediate and the man is trying not to show it. The form requires the inspection. The body makes the extra seconds feel earned. “Pectoral development is marked. Nipple response is brisk.” Sensation shoots downward. Jake’s stomach tightens. The contact is firmer than he expected. He tells himself it is still just the chest.

This is the part of him that gets looks on the sites. The doctor is not stopping.

Abdomen next. Fingertips follow the treasure trail four times. On the last pass Whitaker presses more firmly just above the pubic bone and holds. Jake’s stomach tightens harder. The hair is dense and soft. Whitaker follows it all the way to the waistband and thinks about what is still covered. The trail is darker than Carson’s.

“Underwear off as well. Then hands on your hips. Feet on the marks. Back against the wall. I need an unobstructed view.”

Jake’s face heats. He still had the briefs. That was the last ordinary part. He pushes them down himself while the doctor waits, steps out of them, and places his hands on his hips. He sets his feet on the two small marks and his upper back lightly against the wall. The penis that swings free is long and thick even at rest, heavy enough that the foreskin covers the broad head completely and the shaft hangs with clear weight. Full, natural dark pubic hair frames the base and covers the upper scrotum. The balls hang full and low. Cool air touches everything. For a second his hands almost leave his hips. He keeps them there. The wall and the marks keep him fixed. Nothing bothers him. He will not show it. The air on his skin is immediate. He feels the loss of the last layer and the fact that the doctor is simply watching.

Whitaker steps back two paces and looks. The size is immediately obvious. The shaft is substantially longer and thicker than average even flaccid, the weight of it clear, the foreskin full and natural, the pubic hair dense and untrimmed, the testicles heavy and well-defined beneath it. Forty years of exams and bodies like this still stop him for a moment. He thinks the young man is standing there trying to look unbothered while every inch is on display under the lights. He did not choose this examiner first. The view is better for it. Carson was well built. This one is heavier in the hand he has not yet used. The brother, if he comes, will be taller.

“Pubic hair is full and natural in distribution,” Whitaker says. He parts the hair at the base with two fingers and feels the density. “Dense, untrimmed across the base and upper scrotum. Noted.” Jake feels the light contact through the hair. The fingers are already closer than he expected. “Does the stance—feet on the marks, back to the wall—restrict your movement more than a normal standing position?”

“Yes.”

“Stand still. Checking overall symmetry and skin. Turn slowly. Pause when I tell you. Keep the hands exactly where they are.”

Jake turns. He pauses at the front. He pauses at the side. He pauses at the three-quarter view for an extra two seconds before the rear. Whitaker watches the substantial shaft swing, the balls shift, the line of the back and the cleft. He thinks the weight is obvious from every angle and the man has no choice but to display it. “Symmetry noted from all angles.” Jake feels the extended stare with nothing covering him. No one has ever made him stay still and keep his hands up while they stared at every angle. The doctor can see all of it, the full hair, the size, everything. He keeps his face blank. The turn feels longer than it should. He is aware of every shift.

“Face me again. Feet on the marks. Back against the wall.”

Before any contact Whitaker pulls on a fresh pair of gloves. The snap is loud. He smooths the wrists slowly. “These will be on you for the next several minutes.” Jake’s thighs tighten and stay tight. He cannot look away from the gloves. The sound makes the next step real. Whitaker thinks the preparation is part of the inspection. The man is already naked and watching.

Whitaker first runs both gloved hands slowly along the inner thighs and into the groin creases. The muscle is firm. Jake feels the deliberate contact high on each leg. The hands are closer than a standard check. Only then does the doctor speak.

“I am going to lift and examine the penis now.” He changes to a second fresh glove mid-sentence, the snap audible again while Jake remains fully exposed. Only then does he lift the shaft. It is heavier and denser than the outline suggested, substantial in the gloved hand. He thinks the weight is better than he expected and the skin is warm. He draws the foreskin back in one slow, complete motion and holds it fully retracted. The glans is broad, smooth, fully exposed under the light. Jake feels the cool air on it. He does not leak. His stomach stays tight and his face stays hot, but the tip stays dry. The exposure is complete and the doctor is not moving. Whitaker thinks the head is fully out and the man has to stand there with it like that. He can take the time. Carson’s was solid. This one fills the hand differently.

“Look down. Is the glans completely exposed? What color is it?”

“Yes. Pink.”

“Describe what you feel on the glans right now.”

“Cold. And the air.”

“Is the sensation more temperature or more contact?”

“Temperature.”

“Keep your eyes forward.”

Jake lifts his gaze. He is just holding it open. The doctor has not even started the rest and already the air is on it. He cannot cover it. His hands are still on his hips and his back is against the wall. The old man is staring at it and taking his time. He did not get the younger doctor. The request to describe it makes the moment longer.

Whitaker holds the full retraction and inspects the glans and frenulum under the light for several seconds. The size is confirmed in his hand. The shaft is thicker and longer than most men he examines, the glans broad, the foreskin having retracted cleanly over it, the natural hair still visible at the base. He thinks this is the part he has been waiting for since the photo. The young man is trying hard not to react and the stillness makes the inspection longer. He already held Carson’s. The difference is in the weight and the way this one stays still.

“Genital development is above average. Length and girth both exceed typical measurements for your age. Have you ever been told that by a physician before?”

“No.”

Jake’s face burns. The doctor just said it out loud. He is mortified and he cannot move his hands. He keeps his jaw set. The words sit in the room with the air still on him. Whitaker thinks the flush is useful. The statement lands harder because the foreskin is still held back.

“State your age out loud.”

“Twenty.”

“Has anyone else examined you this way before?”

“No.”

Whitaker writes both answers while the glans stays exposed. He measures length and girth twice with the foreskin still fully back. The tape has been warmed longer in his palm. He reads both sets of numbers aloud, writes them, and leaves the tape resting across Jake’s upper thigh. “Length and girth recorded. Foreskin retracts fully and cleanly.” He does not replace the foreskin. He steps to the counter and continues writing while Jake remains standing with the glans fully exposed. The view is still his while he records it. The man has to stay exactly as he is. The numbers are larger than Carson’s.

Jake hears his own dimensions twice. He feels the light weight of the tape on his skin and the continued air on the head. The numbers will stay in the chart. Keep your hands where they are. Keep your eyes forward. The doctor is in no hurry. The writing takes longer than the measuring.

Each testicle is rolled thoroughly from the front while the tape remains on the thigh. “Full and equal.” Then Whitaker steps behind him. “Checking the testicles from behind as well. Hands stay on your hips. Place one foot slightly forward. Look straight ahead at the mark on the wall. Tell me what you feel as I roll the left testicle.”

“Pressure. Rolling.”

Whitaker palpates both testes and the cords again. The weight is substantial from this angle too. He thinks the man cannot see what is being done and is describing it anyway. He compares weight and contour out loud. Jake cannot see the hands. The tape stays where it was left. The young man is staying exactly where he was placed. The posterior reach lets him take the weight without the man tracking every movement. Carson faced him for most of it.

His hands are on my balls from behind now. I cannot see them. I just have to stand here and describe it while he takes his time. I am showing this guy I have never met my family jewels and he is not rushing. The inability to see makes the contact feel longer.

Whitaker presses along the perineum from a slightly different, more rearward angle. “Alternate approach for confirmation. Hold still through the count. Report if the pressure changes.” He counts slowly to fifteen, increasing pressure. He thinks the tone is excellent and the man is leaking nothing while the thighs stay tight. Jake’s thighs shake once. He stares at the wall. He stays dry. “Same,” he says at five. “Same,” at ten. “Higher,” at fifteen. “Remain still until the assessment is finished. Rate the pressure one to ten.”

“Seven.”

He is still pressing. It has been longer than he expected and he cannot step away. He can feel exactly where the fingers are and he cannot close his legs. The man is making him uncomfortable on purpose by going slow and making him talk. The count feels deliberate. Whitaker thinks the continued stillness is better than any fluid response. The form gave him the count. The body gave him the time.

“Does the room temperature feel colder now that you are fully undressed?”

“Yes.”

The cremasteric reflex is performed once while Jake is still standing naked. Whitaker notes the lift. The hernia check is done slowly on each side while standing; Jake turns his head and coughs twice per side while the fingers stay high and the tape remains on his thigh. “Confirming impulse.” He thinks the hands can stay a second longer than a standard check requires.

“Rectal exam next. We will complete this section without interruption once it begins. This will be the first digital rectal examination you have had. I will go slowly. You will need to remain bent over until I am finished. Place both palms flat on the table and keep them there. Reach back and hold yourself open for a count of ten so I can observe, then I will take over.”

Jake bends over the end of the table, palms flat on the paper, legs straight, feet apart. He reaches back and holds himself open. Whitaker counts. He thinks the man is displaying it himself because he was told to. “Anus is visible and reactive. You may release.” Jake lets go. Whitaker confirms the position. “Palms flat. Confirmed.” He spreads both cheeks and holds them open longer than necessary. The anus is small and tight, already reacting slightly to the air. Jake is bent over showing this guy he has never met his asshole. He just held it open himself. The man is looking right at it and taking his time. Nothing is supposed to bother him and his face is hot anyway. The position feels more exposed than the standing exam. He cannot see the doctor’s face.

Whitaker works lubricant around the rim in slow circles, then enters in distinct stages with pauses until he reaches the prostate. He thinks the grip is excellent and he can take the staged entry because the form does not specify the pace. He circles it deliberately. “One word for what you feel on entry.”

“Pressure.”

“Tone is firm. Contour smooth. Relax your jaw and keep it relaxed. One word at the prostate.”

“Full.”

“Take one slow breath and hold it for a count of five. One word during the circles.”

“Strange.”

Jake stays dry. The stretch and the pressure are clear, and he stays bent because he was told to. The grip is excellent and the man is staying bent because the company required the clearance. He has never been touched here before today. The lack of fluid does not change the completeness of the exam. Whitaker thinks the young man is mortified and trying not to show it. He did not choose this. The body is still his to finish at the pace both of them allow. Carson stayed still too. This one is describing it.

His finger is inside me. I have never had this done. He said to stay like this and I cannot get up. I am bent over with my ass in the air for a man I just met and he is taking his time and making me name it. It feels strange and I cannot see what he is doing and I hate that he can see all of it. The instruction to name the feeling keeps him from drifting.

The finger withdraws. The lubricated anoscope is held where Jake can see it for three seconds. “This is what will be used.” Whitaker adjusts the overhead light himself, then inserts the scope gradually. The blades open in three slow increments. He looks for an extended time. He thinks the walls are clear and the man is still holding the position. “Walls are pink. Visualization is clear. Compare the sensation of the scope to the finger. Which is more noticeable?”

“The scope.”

He applies pressure in separate rounds. There is a small, late response—clear fluid appears once and is noted—then nothing further. He leaves the scope open afterward while he finishes one note and reads a measurement back from the chart. He thinks the response is minimal and the continued openness is still useful.

“Prostatic fluid, minimal. Normal on first examination. Stay as you are while we complete the visualization.”

Jake stays bent, face hot, hole stretched around the open metal. It is still in me. He is writing something while I cannot move. I did not know this was part of it. Carson never said any of this. I am still showing him everything and he is not in a hurry. The metal feels different from the finger. He has to stay until the doctor decides the looking is finished.

“Has this examination differed from what you expected?”

“Yes.”

Whitaker withdraws the scope. “Remain bent.” He walks to the sink, washes his hands, and dries them while Jake stays in position. Thirty seconds pass. He thinks the extra time bent over is simply how the notes are finished. Then he reads the full genital measurement line back aloud while Jake is still bent. Only then does he tell Jake he can stand.

The final neurological exam is done while Jake remains fully naked. He walks the length of the room facing the doctor, turns, and walks back. Then he repeats the walk with his back to the doctor. He stops once in the middle of the room. “Do you feel more or less covered now than during the standing genital examination?”

“Less.”

Everything swings with the weight of the shaft. Whitaker conducts a last slow visual pass from chest to feet, including another brief look at the genitals. He thinks the size is still striking even after the full exam and the man has to walk it in front of him. “Completing surface survey.” Jake remains uncovered until the doctor explicitly ends it. The man has seen every inch and taken all the time he wanted. The walk feels like the last display.

The physical portion is marked complete. Whitaker does not yet tell Jake to dress. He sets the chart on the counter and turns back.

“There is one remaining section. A brief psychological component required by the company for baseline clearances. It is a structured review of the examination you just completed. I will ask specific questions. Answer as directly as you can.”

Jake is still standing naked. The exam is over. He does not want to talk about it while he is still like this. His face is still hot and the man can see it. The questions will make him say the parts he has been trying not to show.

Whitaker keeps the same even tone.

“You chose Dr. Hale in the waiting area. When you learned the examination would still be performed by me, what was your reaction?”

“I didn’t expect it.”

“When I instructed you to place your hands on your hips and keep them there after the underwear was removed, and to stand with your back against the wall, what were you thinking?”

“That I had to stay still.”

“Did you consider covering yourself at any point?”

“Yes.”

“When I fully retracted the foreskin and held it retracted under the light, I asked you to look down and confirm it was completely exposed. Did you look at my face or at the floor?”

“Floor.”

“When I stated that genital development was above average, what was your immediate reaction?”

Jake’s face heats again. “Surprised.”

“You stated your age while the foreskin remained retracted. Was that more difficult than answering the same question while you were still dressed?”

“Yes.”

“Estimate, in seconds, how long the foreskin was held fully retracted under the light before measurement began.”

“Maybe twenty.”

“During the testicular examination from behind, you could not see my hands. What were you thinking?”

“That I just had to stand there.”

Whitaker writes. He does not rush. He thinks the answers are short and the flush is still present. The questions return the man to the moments that were already complete. He already has Carson’s chart. The brother’s name has been mentioned.

“When I pressed the perineum and counted to fifteen, did you want the pressure to stop before I finished the count?”

“Yes.”

“During the digital rectal examination I stated that it was your first. When my finger entered and remained in place, what were you thinking?”

Jake’s voice is quieter. “That I had never had that done. That I had to stay bent over. That you could see everything.”

“When the anoscope was inserted and the blades were opened, and I left it in place while I completed the note, were you aware that you were still required to remain in position?”

“Yes.”

“Has anyone else ever held your penis fully retracted, measured it, examined your testicles from behind, or performed a digital rectal examination on you before today?”

“No.”

“On a scale of one to ten, how embarrassed were you at the moment I was examining the glans under the light with the foreskin held back?”

“Seven.”

Whitaker writes the number. “Confirm that you understand the examination was performed solely by me and that every required section was completed. Initial here.”

Jake initials the line while still bottomless.

“Yes.”

“That completes the psychological component. All required sections are complete.”

Whitaker initials the form in Jake’s direct line of sight. The sentence is short and final. Jake hears the language while the cool air is still on him. He stays that way for several minutes before he is told he may put the underwear back on. The man saw him in a way no one else ever has. He tried not to show how much it bothered him and the questions made him say it anyway. He chose the other doctor and still ended up here. Whitaker thinks the chart is complete and the body was examined at the pace the form and the stillness allowed. The enjoyment was in the thoroughness. The knowing look from Hale is irrelevant. He has Carson’s form. He has this one. The brother is still only a name.

Jake dresses slowly. The briefs feel ordinary again, then the jeans, then the shirt. The man saw every part of him, the full hair, the size, the way he looked bent over. No one else has ever looked at him that way or handled him that way. The questions made him say the words out loud while he was still naked. The ordinary clothes do not erase the last ninety minutes.

He walks out to the truck. Carson is waiting with the engine running. Jake gets in and closes the door. He sits for a second with his hands on his thighs. He has to say something.

“He did the full thing,” Jake says. His voice is flat. “There was another doctor. Younger. I picked him. Then he got called away and I got Whitaker anyway. He had me stand with my hands on my hips and my back against the wall. He pulled the foreskin all the way back and held it. He said it was bigger than normal. He measured me twice and said the numbers out loud. He checked my balls from behind. Then the finger. Then the scope. I was bent over showing him everything while he took his time. He made me describe what it felt like. Then he asked a bunch of questions about it while I was still standing there naked. He even asked what I thought when I found out it was going to be him instead.”

Carson starts the truck but does not put it in gear yet. He nods once. “Yeah. He does the full thing. Finger and scope both. He told me most guys our age never had it before. I figured he would with you too. He said something about size with me as well. It’s just part of the notes. Sounds like he didn’t let the switch bother him.”

Jake turns his head. “You knew?”

“I knew it was required. I didn’t know he was going to ask all those questions after. He didn’t do that with me. Or if he did it was shorter.” Carson shrugs. “He was thorough. That’s what the company wants. You get used to the idea after.”

Jake stares out the windshield. The doctor’s gloved hand holding the foreskin back under the light and the words about being above average. The finger inside him and the instruction to stay bent while the man looked and made him name the feeling. Having to estimate how many seconds it lasted and then rate the embarrassment on a scale while the man watched him. No man has ever seen him like that. No woman either. Not all of it, not under those lights, not while he was required to keep his hands where they were and answer the questions. He tried to act like nothing bothered him and it still showed. He picked the other one and it didn’t matter.

“He saw everything,” Jake says. “He made me look down at it while he held it. He left me bent over after the scope while he washed his hands. Then the questions. I had to tell him what I was thinking when his finger was in me. I was showing this guy I never met my ass and my balls and he just took his time with all of it. And he made me say I understood it was only him who did it.”

Carson pulls the truck into drive. “Yeah. It’s a lot the first time. You get used to the idea after. He writes it all down and that’s it. You’re cleared.”

Jake is quiet for a moment. His phone rings. Tristan’s name is on the screen. Carson glances over. “Answer it.”

Jake puts it on speaker. “Hey.”

Tristan’s face fills the screen. He is nineteen and unusually handsome for his age, the kind of face that looks like it belongs on a soap opera, all clean lines and easy symmetry under the height. “Mom said the company might want me on a crew. Do I need a physical?”

Jake looks at Carson. Carson raises an eyebrow and nods toward the clinic. The peer pressure is immediate and quiet. Jake opens the door. “Hold on. I’m walking back in. You should talk to the doctor.”

He crosses the lot and steps into the waiting area. Whitaker is at the desk with the chart still in his hand. Jake holds the phone up so the screen faces him. “This is my brother Tristan. Nineteen. He needs the same physical for the new job. I just had mine. It was no big deal.”

Tristan’s tone is polite and professional. “Thank you, Doctor. Is tomorrow possible?”

Whitaker looks at the screen. The face is unusually handsome for nineteen, the kind of features that stop people. He thinks the height is already clear even on the small image, the shoulders broad under the shirt. He thinks about Carson yesterday and Jake this afternoon and the form that will put this one under his hands tomorrow. The excitement is immediate and private.

“Tomorrow afternoon is open,” Whitaker says. “I may have Dr. Hale assist with portions of the examination if the schedule allows. Any particular concerns about the exam?”

“No,” Tristan says. “I don’t think so.”

“Good. I will be examining you from top to toe tomorrow.”

Tristan’s easy expression shifts. The professional tone holds, but the pause is visible. “Okay. I’ll take it. See you then.”

The call ends. Jake lowers the phone. He is laughing inside at how easily Tristan agreed and at the small pause the last sentence created. Whitaker makes a brief note on the appointment card while Jake is still standing there. “Same form, same ninety minutes.”

Jake’s expression shifts. “He’s very modest. Covers up even in the school showers. Maybe the physical can bring him out of it.”

“I will do my best,” Whitaker says.

Jake’s phone rings again before he reaches the door. Tristan. He answers.

“What did he mean, top to toe?” Tristan asks. His voice is lower. “I already said yes. I can’t cancel now.”

Jake keeps his tone light. “He’s just thorough. Same thing I had. You’ll be fine.”

Tristan is quiet for a second. “All right.”

The call ends. Jake walks back to the truck. Carson is still idling. “Well?”

“Tomorrow,” Jake says. “He’s coming in. Whitaker might even have the other doctor help. He told Tristan he’d be examining him from top to toe. Tristan called back and asked what that meant. I told him the doctor’s just thorough. He’s not happy he agreed, but he won’t cancel.”

Carson laughs once and puts the truck in gear. “Modest and both of them in the room? He’s going to hate every second of it.”

Jake watches the clinic in the side mirror as they pull away. He is already picturing his brother standing with his hands on his hips and his back against the wall, the foreskin held back, the finger inside him, the questions afterward. He might even drive Tristan here himself so he can be in the waiting room when he comes out.

Whitaker stands at the window after the door closes. He thinks about Carson’s form still on the desk, the measurements and the stillness from yesterday. He thinks about Jake this afternoon—the weight in his hand, the foreskin held back while the numbers were written, the finger inside and the answers given while the man stayed bent. He thinks about Tristan’s face on the screen, unusually handsome, already reserved for tomorrow, already told the exam would cover him from top to toe, already uneasy enough to call back and still coming. He is considering one extra pause during the visual inspection and one additional request for Tristan to describe a sensation while the foreskin is held back. Three forms. Three bodies. The access is the same. The reactions will not be. It is an embarrassment of riches. He knows how lucky he is.