Sorry, I can't make it for coffee. Something came up. Call you later?
Miles sighed. He hadn't seen Tristan since he went on vacation. Sun and sand, but no Tristan.
He took a sip of his latte, and looked around The Dot, it being practically vacant, and decided to stroll around town. He didn't get around the area as often as he would like.
He was irritated by not being able to see his boyfriend after two weeks of being apart, but it didn't strike him as too odd. Maybe he made a movie date with Zoe.
Or not.
As he approached the park, he noticed a familiar head of platinum blond hair. He wasn't alone.
Tristan was smiling and laughing as he jogged around the side of the park with someone Miles had never seen before. He checked his phone again. No new message. Just him being bailed on.
The guy he was with was fairly tall, tanned, muscular, sweat glistening off his biceps, his brown hair plastering his forehead. They looked pretty familiar with each other, and he playfully punched Tristan in the arm.
All sorts of thought flew through Miles's head. He had only been gone for two weeks, but a lot more had happened in a lot less time before. He couldn't imagine why Tristan would be unhappy with him, but he couldn't trust his own judgment on that matter, seeing how badly he had been able to screw up past relationships completely by accident. But this guy?
Maybe he was just flirting. Maybe Tristan wasn't actually interested in him. Maybe this was all in his head.
But jealousy had weaseled its way deep into his thoughts, and he couldn't shake the suspicions.
He turned before Tristan could see him and started on a shortcut to Tristan's house to wait for an explanation. Fueled by his fears, he pulled out his phone and began to text Tristan.
I hope you had a nice time while I was gone. I suppose my time was alright, but I'm sure you had a lot more fun than I did. The beach was nice, but I think sometimes the sights in Toronto can't be beat. Especially when they're tall, dark, and handsome. WE REALLY SHOULD TALK ABOUT THIS, DON'T YOU THINK?
By the time he had reached Tristan's front porch, he had written an ungodly amount of paranoid messages, and he was only throwing fuel to the fire, as his imagination run wild, wondering what he had done wrong, when he heard a shout.
"Miles! I didn't expect to see you here!" Tristan grinned as he jogged up the sidewalk, followed closely by the handsome muscular man.
"Yeah. So uh, are you going to introduce me to your friend?" Miles spat out bitterly, darting daggers at the new arrival.
"Um, what the hell do you mean? I meant to tell you I was training for a 10k, but you didn't have cell service."
"This hottie hunk of muscle of here. Is this your new boy toy? Huh, Tris? What did I do that was so wrong?" Miles was letting himself get so worked up, he didn't notice the look on Tristan's face. A look that shifted from confusion, to a mixture of horror and amusement. Tristan Milligan was at a loss for words. A miracle.
"So who are you?" Miles demanded, crossing his arms in front of him, trying to make the most of the few inches of height he had over his opponent.
"I'm Tristan's fitness guru."
"Uh huh. You two seem pretty close. You got a name, fitness boy?"
"The name's Milligan. Owen Milligan."
Miles froze. "Oh."
Owen smirked bemusedly. "Yeah. I'm gonna let you two talk this one out on your own." He entered the house, and after the door shut, Miles could swear he heard him howl with laughter.
"Oh my god, Miles, you are so embarrassing." Tristan laughed, unable to keep his composure.
Miles felt rightly embarrassed, and remembered the texts he had sent. "Uhh, Tris, can you just... delete all the texts I've sent you in the past half hour?"
"Oh, not a chance." Tristan smirked mischievously, "By the way, I was supposed to ask you over. To meet the family."
"I am never going to live this down, am I?" Miles shook his head abashedly. Tristan leaned in close and pecked Miles on the lips.
"Not in a million years."