Aaron's Followers

Chapter 12: Shared Spaces

Aaron's apartment had changed.

Daniel noticed it as soon as he walked in—something unspoken in the air, richer, deeper. The scent was no longer just Aaron's. It was theirs. Max's, Daniel's, even the hint of others who had come and soaked in silence before them. The scent had settled into the fleece throws, into the cushions, into the floorboards. It made Daniel's thighs twitch the moment he stepped inside.

Max was already seated on the floor, hips splayed wide, belly soft, briefs barely containing the weight of his fully soaked liner. His cock was hidden, but Daniel could see the wetness had reached the edge of the padding. A darker patch spread downward. Still he sat comfortably, leaking openly, as if it were normal.

Maybe it was.

Aaron was behind the kitchen counter, preparing drinks like it was a casual evening hangout. He turned, belly pressing into his own briefs, and handed Daniel a glass.

"You're holding it well in public," he said.

Daniel nodded. "It's starting to feel like... my body knows. When to let go. When to hold."

Aaron smiled. "Good. That means it's time to start sharing space."

Max shifted on the cushion. "That sounds intense, but it's not. It's just... letting others soak next to you. Without hiding."

Daniel looked around. "You mean like this?"

Aaron nodded. "Exactly. This room is always warm. The scent always lives here. When you sit with others who are also padded, also leaking, something different happens. Your body relaxes. It gives more."

Daniel sat slowly beside Max, feeling the warmth of the cushion accept his weight. His own liner squished under him, still fresh from the walk over. The moment their thighs touched, Daniel gasped.

It wasn't sexual.

It was affirming.

Their scents mixed. Their wetness mingled invisibly. There was no fear of being discovered, no need to press his thighs together, no guilt in feeling the bulge swell with new leak. The others wanted it.

Max nudged him gently with his knee. "You'll start to associate this feeling with comfort. The scent of another padded man next to you? It'll make you leak faster. More naturally."

And he was right.

Within minutes, Daniel's liner was soaked again—soaked in a way he used to call orgasmic, but which now had no beginning or end. Just continuous arousal, shared pressure, absorbed presence.

Aaron sat down beside them both.

Three padded bellies.

Three leaking bulges.

No touching. Just soaking. Together.

The silence was full of scent and warmth.

And Daniel realized: he didn't have to do anything. He just had to be here.

Leaking was no longer solitary.

It was something shared.

Something sacred.