Here it is! I’m thinking maybe 3-4 parts in total. Let me kn..

Here it is! I’m thinking maybe 3-4 parts in total. Let me know what y’all think! Caught: Part 1 FYI⬇️ Tim: M/28 Connor: M/29 ———————————— The smell of bacon woke Connor up. For a split second he forgot where he was, but as his vision came into focus he remembered. Looking around, he recognized the pictures on the wall by the closet and knew he was in his friend Tim’s home. Looking around he saw his phone by the wall, plugged in. He slowly crawled on his hands and knees, stretching his legs out as he moved. “Shit,” he said. He had 5 missed calls from his brother, and a few texts from friends asking if he was ok. Connor had gone out to the bar with a couple coworkers and had invited Tim along for the drinks and the Super Bowl. Connor swiped over to his photos and saw that he had a fun night. The photos showed a slow progression into madness. The group had migrated from the bar to the patio out back where they had apparently attempted a few awful games of cornhole. Swipe. Swipe. Swi-… Connor stared at the screen in shock. Amongst the chaotic photos of the evening, there was a photo taken of the crowd cheering after a touchdown. Right in the front was Tim. His back was turned to the camera and both of his arms were raised up into the air in celebration. Connor’s shock, however, was caused by a familiar sight. Tim’s arms being raised also caused his shirt to lift up above his belt. Below the shirt hem, Connor spied a flash of white fabric, as well as what appeared to be a white waistband with a dark line around the bottom and some dark lettering partially obscured by the shirt. Connor couldn’t believe it. Tim was apparently a tighty whities guy. The pair had been friends for the past 2 years or so. They occasionally hung out, but any attempts to figure out what underwear Tim wore had been inconclusive. He had seen compression shorts on their runs together, and boxer brief lines around his thighs when he had worn khakis or dress pants. Other times he didn’t see any evidence of underwear at all. “I wonder,” Connor thought to himself. He locked his phone and looked around. He was in Tim’s room alone. He smelled the bacon again and surmised that he was in the kitchen. Connor’s eyes darted to the closet in the corner. The door was closed, but Connor knew that just inside was Tim’s dresser and dirty clothes hamper. He walked over to the closet and slowly turned the knob to avoid making noise. Inside he got a whiff of B.O. and stale air. A sweaty pair of compression shorts were laying in a pile in the laundry basket, but there were no other clothes inside. Connor turned to the dresser and reached for the top drawer. Inside he saw a plethora of garments. Most appeared to be what he had seen in the past, but suddenly something caught his eye. In the back of the drawer was a plastic-wrapped package. He pulled it out and found an opened pack of medium white Fruit of the Loom briefs. The package had been ripped open and at least one pair was missing. “Connor! Are you awake?” he heard Tim call from down the hall. Hearing footsteps, Connor panicked and turned to put the package back in the drawer, but tripped over a shoe on the ground. Connor half-caught himself on the dresser, but the rest of his weight hit the closet door, causing it to swing open and slam against the wall. “Oh my god dude, are you ok?,” Tim said. Connor replied with a grunt, “Y-yeah I think so. I just scratched my arm.” Connor got to his knees and then his stomach dropped. He still had the pack of tighty whities in his hands, and Tim was staring at them, mouth ajar. “What’s going on?,” Tim asked. To Be Continued…