Theory of Attachment [18+] [mxm]

07. ❌ 1-800-COLLEGE-HUNKS

RELEVANT TAGS: Facefucking, dubious consent...?, one (1) spank

SUMMARY: Alistair hires a moving service with perks.

Micah was not made aware of Alistair's return to the city until the fateful day arrived and Benny called him in a panic, saying, "Help!"

"Help?" Micah repeated, heart stopping. "Help with what? Do I need a knife for this?!"

"Yes!" was all Benny said before hanging up. Benny didn't often bother with addresses when Micah already had his location shared.

And so, Micah arrived no more than ten minutes later expecting to be fist-fighting and calling for backup. Instead what he found was a U-Haul truck obscuring the address Benny's location claimed to be at. The back of the truck was open and, standing on the ramp, was Benny in basketball shorts and a tank top.

"You know, I'll have a heart attack one of these times and you'll never hear from me again," Micah shouted as he crossed the cobbled street.

Benny spied him, screamed with excitement, and bounded off the ramp. It clattered behind him as he leapt into Micah's arms. "You made it! Do you have an hour?"

"Yeah, why?"

Micah's entire body convulsed with a curse as footsteps crossed the inside of the truck and to the ramp because, a second later, Alistair was leaning out with a hand on one of the metal handle hooks.

And he looked devastating for someone who'd spent the better part of a month trying not to think about him.

And now he's in my city. Permanently. The island was starting to feel claustrophobic.

Alistair was shirtless, which didn't make much of a difference when his tattoos so thoroughly covered him. His see-through running shorts were kept modest by a pair of neon pink compression shorts. He was wearing tube socks in sneakers. Tube socks. In sneakers.

"Hey," Alistair said. He jumped off the ramp to meet them. Even in the cold, his skin had a faint sheen to it. Sweat.

"Hey," Micah said. "I thought Benny was being murdered."

"Yeah, but all of Alistair's furniture is hardwood. You know how heavy that shit is?" Benny said with a roll of his shoulders. He cranked one arm up to pop his socket with an audible crack! "You owe me a massage after this."

Alistair grinned, hands on his hips like he knew they did everything to call attention to that narrow waist Micah couldn't get enough of—Stop salivating!

Micah swallowed back the horny thoughts smacking him every which way. "I have an hour to spare."

"We don't need your help," Alistair said.

"Dude, come on," Benny insisted.

Alistair laughed, turned, and waved a dismissive hand. "We have it handled, don't worry about it."

Benny groaned, threw his head back, and turned to Micah with an apologetic grimace. "Please help anyway? I wanna be done by two."

Micah checked his phone. He was, admittedly, relieved that Alistair hadn't somehow lured Benny into inviting Micah over. He could manage an hour of getting on Alistair's nerves. Definitely.

"Sure, I'll help," Micah said, quietly, though the echo of a scoff from inside the truck assured him Alistair had heard anyway. Micah made a point to shout back, "And this isn't me doing you a favor!"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Alistair shouted back.

If Micah had known half of Alistair's belongings involved limited edition, bespoke items with a plethora of conditions—"Grab it from the bottom! Don't—! Are you insane?! Both hands! Both hands!"