It had been a few days after Everett and Tristan shared their friendly, totally normal roommate encounter in the living room. The knowledge of Everett being so fucking weak for Tristan had him parading along the apartment proud and cocky. Not once did they talk about it. Tristan continued to bring home girls to their apartments, make them scream knowing Everett was next door, or leave the bathroom door open while he was showering: wanting him to long for Tristan's touch. The only problem was, that Everett started to get pretty occupied himself. It shocked himself just how pissed off he was about it, but he kept it to himself, mostly. He would only tease Everett with his new boyfriend, like he didn't care.
Tristan threw a party in their apartment, thinking Everett would spend the night at his new lover. But here he was - and there he was as well. His jaw tightened upon seeing them, Tristan moving his gaze from the girl he was dancing with to the two of them. The grip on his bottle of beer tightened and Tristan eyed Everett with a warned glare as if to ask him how he dared to bring home the guy. His friend. Tristan didn't know who he was more angry with, his friend of Everett. Either way, the look on his face meant nothing good. Of course, Tristan had no business in telling Everett what to do or who to be with but he couldn't help it. It was in his nature. Darkened eyes moved to his friend, a scoff leaving his lips and he shook his head, taking a few slow steps towards the two of them. "You got to be fucking kidding me, right?" Tristan's eyes remained on his friend, his lips growing into a dangerous smirk. "You're fucking Everett?" The party around them continued, loud music booming through the walls, people making out and drinking and dancing. Anger boiled through Tristan's body, knuckles turning white just at how hard he was holding on to his beer. "What the fuck is this joke? You think you're being funny, Alex?"
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