This is a steamy MM romance intended for mature readers over the age of eighteen featuring shibari, BDSM, and roommates who discover they aren’t as straight as they thought. All characters are consenting adults.
Reader discretion is advised. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are products of the author’s imagination.
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CHAPTER SIX
Chris
Liam always pushed me to the max when we worked out together. He didn’t talk about himself much, but we became quick friends. So I invited him over for a post-workout smoothie after a brutal two-hour cross training session. I was far from prepared for the sight I was met with when opening the apartment door: Dante tied up like a fucked up art installation, rope cutting into his skin in perfect, intricate knots; Milo, yanking out of Dante’s ass with a despicably erotic plop, face burning red, dick still twitching and dripping pre-cum; Evan slipping from Dante’s slack, drooling mouth, cock glistening from spit in the light.
A dull thud sounded from my gym bag hitting the ground before I even realized it slipped from my hand. Once I could think straight, all I could think about was Liam’s possible reaction. A cold, heavy lump settled in my throat. He’s gonna think I’m a fucking freak.
“Oh, nice rope work,” Liam said.
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t bolt. Simply stepped forward, calm as hell, sharp eyes tracing the ropes binding Dante. “Solid anchor point.” He continued, voice low and smooth, like he was commenting on a custom car paint job.
I stared at him, slack-jawed. Was he for real? He sounded like he’d seen this shit a thousand times.
When Dante said “Don’t just stand there, boys,” I didn’t know what to think. “We could use an extra set of hands. Or two,” he continued.
Liam dropped his gym bag next to mine, his athletic shorts already tenting.
“Hot,” he responded, direct and unashamed, before pulling down his shorts with one quick, confident flick.
I couldn’t move. Feet glued to the floor. Heart jackhammering as Liam freed himself. Heavy and ready. Damn, that dick was bigger than all four of the rest of ours. He was just … in it. No judgement. No hesitation. And fuck, if that wasn’t the most liberating thing I’d ever seen. The shame that had choked me for years was just … missing from him.
Glancing back at me, a smirk tugged at his lips. “Any holes a goal, right?” he said, the motto filthy and fitting.
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