Chapter Seventy One

Tristan could physically feel his ears getting warm and the heat reaching to his cheeks as Roth continued to pass remarks on his clothing choices. Minutes later, Roth appeared on the bathroom door frame , holding two briefs in either of his hands; one was Tristan’s usual pair of white briefs, and another were black boxer shorts that Roth had dug out from somewhere.

Tristan could feel the embarrassment in his flesh as Roth neared him, “Seriously?” He raised an eyebrow. He handed him the black one, “Do you want me to help you put it on?” Roth’s pointed gaze at Tristan’s cock made it twitch, which Tristan attempted to hide by attempting to shut his thighs tightly.

Still unable to utter a single word, Tristan just shook his flushed face, as Roth smirked at his embarrassment and closed his eyes, still supporting Tristan with an arm on his back. He opened them again as he heard Tristan murmur something incomprehensible.

“Sorry, what?” He took his ear near Tristan’s mouth.

“I can’t.” Trist