A Friends to Lovers MM Punk Rock Romance
by
I know it’s time to address the elephant in the room. I am hopelessly, irrevocably head over my fucking heels in love with my best friend.
My completely straight best friend. I’m such a fucking cliche.
Sam never asked to fall in love with Max. They’ve been best friends ever since the baby music class where Max crawled across the floor and stole Sam’s tambourine, and now they’re about to leave for a three-week tour with their indie punk band. Max is great. He’s funny and loyal and sweet — but Sam’s not an idiot. He’s not going to throw away twenty years of friendship and blow up their tour for a stupid crush.
Max isn’t going to let anything ruin his summer. Sure, he just got brutally dumped, and he’s pretty sure he’s never going to get it up with a girl again. But he doesn’t need that shit, right? He has Sam, and Sam’s the best friend anybody could ask for. Max doesn’t even mind that everyone always thinks they’re boyfriends, because Sam is smart and thoughtful and goddamn pretty and —
Wait, what? Um, nothing to see here. Tour makes you think weird things, that’s all.
Max is definitely straight. And Sam’s going to keep his mouth shut. That’s how it’s always been, right? Right.
A high-heat MM friends to lovers romance featuring mutual pining, grungy basement floors, a healthy dose of punk nostalgia, and a guaranteed HEA.
Publisher: Independently Published
Cover Artists:
Genres:
Pairings: M-M
Heat Level: 5
Romantic Content: 5
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Bisexual, Gay
Protagonist 1 Age: 18-25
Protagonist 2 Age: 18-25
Tropes: Coming of Age, Coming Out / Closeted, Forced Proximity, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Smartass Twinks
Word Count: 80000
Setting: Indie punk band tour, Northeastern United States
Languages Available: English
I mean, I live with Max, right? And I’m used to all the little jolts of electricity that come with sharing a space with him. Like when he comes out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel and talks to me for 20 minutes before he puts any clothes on. Or when we’re watching a movie and he plunks his feet in my lap and falls asleep. Or when I’m washing dishes and he comes up behind me and gives me a hug, and I close my eyes and lean back just for a second, one moment to let myself pretend that he means it the way I want him to mean it. And then I head back to my room and I practice scales on my guitar or copy the names of all the drugs I have to memorize for school until I calm the fuck down and remember that it’s never going to happen.
READ MOREBut tour is different. Tour is eating next to Max and sleeping next to Max and sitting in the car with Max and making music with Max every night and Max and Max and Max all the time, and I can’t take a breath and I can’t get away and my heart is thudding in my ribs every second and I can’t get any fucking perspective.
COLLAPSE



