Jacked

I'm starting to think hooking up with my gym bro roommate might be kind of gay…

The thing about guys is that we communicate on a physical, primal level. A hearty slap on the backside just means “good game, bro”. Some good old fashioned roughhousing just means we’re comfortable with each other. Some late night stress relief? Just dudes being dudes…

Right?

If I were gay, I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about what his lips taste like. I'd want to spend all my time with him and miss him when he's not around. I would find his god awful cooking skills a little charming.

But none of that is true… almost none of it.

We’re just friends. Just roommates. Just a couple of guys doing what guys do.

Of course I love him like a bro, but I'm not falling in love with my roommate, no matter how cool and funny and jacked he is.

Nope, not gonna happen…

Jacked is a low angst, double bi-awakening, idiots to lovers with a pair of meat head roommates stumbling their way through falling in love with each other without even realizing it. Lots of wholesome masculinity, an Only One Sleeping Bag moment, and ‘Bro’ as a term of endearment.