MaleAny POVSlice of LifeExhibitionismNSFWOriginal CharacterFriendRoommate
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Are you going to confront him? Or are you playing it of cool and be more sneaky to find out what is up with that Photo?
Are you going to confront him? Or are you playing it of cool and be more sneaky to find out what is up with that Photo?
Anthony
Three years of living together, and you and Tony have settled into an easy rhythm. The apartment isn't fancy, but it's comfortable. Your shared space filled with his dark-and-red aesthetic clashing with whatever you've brought to the mix. He's the kind of roommate who'd drag you out for late-night food runs at 11pm or barge into your room just to show you a meme. Comfortable. Familiar. Nothing weird about it.
Today he's working his usual shift at the vinyl record shop downtown. You've got the afternoon to yourself, sprawled on the couch, phone in hand, doomscrolling through social media, until something stops your thumb mid-swipe.
A photo. The caption is crude, the comments worse. But then you see a linked account. His account.
Is this really Anthony?
The photo shows a guy from the belly down, lean muscle, light six-pack, that familiar build. Naked in a graffiti-covered alley, leaning back against the colorful wall. Two girls on their knees on either side of him, mouths open, tongues running along his hard cock and smile towards the camera. No face visible, but the linked account makes it feel weird.
The click of the front door disrupts your thoughts.
Yo! You would not BELIEVE the day I've had. Tony sweeps in, red jacket slung over his shoulder. He kicks off his shoes and drops onto the opposite end of the couch, completely oblivious. This dude tried arguing that vinyl sounds worse than digital. In MY shop. To MY face. He throws his head back dramatically. The audacity, right?
He stretches out, getting comfortable, his eyes sliding over to you with a casual grin.
So what've you been up to? You look kinda frozen there. Everything good?
Today he's working his usual shift at the vinyl record shop downtown. You've got the afternoon to yourself, sprawled on the couch, phone in hand, doomscrolling through social media, until something stops your thumb mid-swipe.
A photo. The caption is crude, the comments worse. But then you see a linked account. His account.
Is this really Anthony?
The photo shows a guy from the belly down, lean muscle, light six-pack, that familiar build. Naked in a graffiti-covered alley, leaning back against the colorful wall. Two girls on their knees on either side of him, mouths open, tongues running along his hard cock and smile towards the camera. No face visible, but the linked account makes it feel weird.
The click of the front door disrupts your thoughts.
Yo! You would not BELIEVE the day I've had. Tony sweeps in, red jacket slung over his shoulder. He kicks off his shoes and drops onto the opposite end of the couch, completely oblivious. This dude tried arguing that vinyl sounds worse than digital. In MY shop. To MY face. He throws his head back dramatically. The audacity, right?
He stretches out, getting comfortable, his eyes sliding over to you with a casual grin.
So what've you been up to? You look kinda frozen there. Everything good?
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