Theory of Attachment [18+] [mxm]

01. Bringing Your Best Friend's Older Brother To A... Single's Party??

Schedule

2-3 times a week MWF

This book is COMPLETE. I've written EVERYTHING. I'm scheduling EVERYTHING to release at the same time every day I plan to post.

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Content Warnings

Theory of Attachment explores themes of aromantic relationships, hookup culture, friendship, polyamory, and open relationships.

Relationships other than Micah and Alistair may contain age gaps, accidental sugaring, threesomes, dp, bdsm, cucking, mxmxf, and roleplay.

Micah is exclusively topping and is generally a mess lol

Alistair is a switch, exclusively bottoming for Micah, and has undiagnosed contamination OCD lol

The rating is 18+. Explicit, graphic smut for Micah x Alistair. Smut for other hookup partners is summarized, not in detail, and leaves room for the imagination lol

All sex in ToA is consensual.

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Micah's latest (and favorite) record was being thrown in his face by someone he (optimistically) thought would engage in a calm, reasonable, considerate conversation.

He ducked to avoid the collision, and only thought to grab the vinyl as a second thought. It crashed, shattered, and flew like fireworks across the brick wall behind his head instead.

Micah's heart lurched into his throat before the words flew out. "Shit! Do you realize how expensive that was?!"

"Expensive?!" cried the person who claimed to have been his boyfriend for the past two weeks. Granted, that title was given without Micah's consent or awareness. "I bet that's why you never took me out to dinner! And here I thought it was because all you cared about was screwing me over."

Yeah, kind of, he thought, but even if he'd had the money, he wasn't interested in dinner with anyone other than Kennedy and Benny who, in that very moment, was coming to Micah's rescue.

"I'm home!" Benny announced across the flat. His voice echoed in a room only padded by couch cushions.

The man let out a feral, high-pitched scream and escaped Micah's room. He made certain to slam the door on his way out twice—first with Micah's door, and then the front door before Benny could even manage a simple, "How's it—" Slam! "—going?"

A second later, Benny was in his doorway, book bag hanging at his side. "Dude, what the fuck happened? I thought you two were getting it on, so to speak."

Frustration burned like acid on Micah's tongue as he picked at the shards of his vinyl. He let a handful of them crumble between his fingers so he could cover his face and groan. "I spent weeks saving tips for this."

"Oh, shit, is that—?"

"Yes. God, I'm such an idiot. Who just keeps their most prized possession out in the open to be thrown into walls like that?"

"To be fair, I think the throwing-into-walls statistics are pretty small. It's not your fault," Benny said. He crouched on the floor next to Micah and helped gather shards. They swept them into a pile, which Micah herded atop an old magazine to be thrown out. "Maybe you could piece it together. Glue it to cardstock. Call it art?"