Connecting Threads.

CHAPTER THREE: NEW MARKETING STRATEGY.

(Trust you'll the topic at the end of the chapter.)

As Xander arrived at the mansion, he noticed Aaron's absence, but Ian and Xavier remained tight-lipped about the reason behind his departure. Instead, the trio engaged in effortless conversation, discussing everything from art to music, their words flowing like a gentle stream. Despite the initial awkwardness, the evening unfolded with surprising ease, with Ian and Xavier displaying an endearing affection, their hands touching, their eyes locking in tender moments.

Later, as the night wore on, Xander and Ian bid Xavier farewell, heading back to their cozy apartment, nestled in the heart of the city. Their home was a testament to their love for art and comfort, with walls adorned with vibrant paintings, plush rugs in deep hues, and soft lighting that cast a warm glow. The air was thick with the scent of old books and freshly brewed coffee, creating a sense of warmth and belonging. In the living room, a sleek, black piano stood proudly, its polished surface reflecting the soft light, while a sprawling couch in a rich, velvety fabric invited relaxation. Every corner of the apartment told a story, every detail a reflection of Xander and Ian's love for beauty, comfort, and each other.

As they showered together, Xander and Ian basked in the warmth of each other's embrace, sharing tender kisses and gentle caresses. Xander couldn't help but admire Ian's plump lips, his heart skipping a beat every time their mouths met. He noticed Ian's giddy behavior, his happiness radiating like a warm glow, and it filled Xander's heart with joy. He loved seeing Ian comfortable and carefree.

Snuggled in bed, Xander scrolled through his phone, while Ian seemed to burst with pent-up excitement. "Are Aaron and Xavier gay?" Ian blurted out, his blue eyes locking onto Xander's. Xander's chuckle was stifled, his response laced with amusement. "No, what gave you that idea? They're the straightest guys I know."

Ian's skepticism was palpable. "Really? Do friends grope each other's butts?" Xander's eyes widened, his mouth agape, as he literally choked on his own spit. He sat up, his mind racing, "What are you talking about, Ian?" Ian's words spilled out in a rush, recounting the events that had transpired between Xavier and Aaron. Xander's surprise was an understatement – he was flabbergasted, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Really, that's why Aaron left. He was blushing, I swear! He was red as a tomato," Ian said, his eyes sparkling with mirth. Xander couldn't contain his chuckles, his boyfriend's innocence and candidness often leaving him baffled. Ian didn't seem to mind being laughed at, but Xander noticed the subtle flush creeping up his cheeks. Now it was Ian's turn to be red as a tomato.

Xander's amusement dissipated, replaced by curiosity. "Why are you blushing?" he asked, his voice low and teasing. Ian's response was unfiltered, "I'm not blushing, I just feel hot thinking about it. They looked hot." His eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, as if he wouldn't mind witnessing the scene again.

Xander's smirk returned, his voice taking on a playful tone. "Oh? They looked hot?" He bent down, his face inches from Ian's, his eyes locked on his boyfriend's. "Hotter than me?" he added, his voice dripping with mock jealousy, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Ian's response was a silent one, his lips crashing onto Xander's in a passionate kiss that quickly escalated into a fervent embrace. Clothes were discarded, scattered around the room like confetti, as the two lovers surrendered to their desires. Ian's fingers tangled in Xander's hair, his scalp tingling as Xander's hands roamed his body, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

Their kisses deepened, heavy breathing and soft moans filling the air, as they devoured each other with an insatiable hunger. The world around them melted away, leaving only the thrum of their hearts, the heat of their skin, and the all-consuming passion that drove them closer, their love burning brighter with every passing moment.