1. Adam

Adam pulled open another drawer, flailing jeans and sweatpants and khakis onto the growing mound on the bed, shouting along with the music blasting through the bedroom. I threw your shit into a bag and pushed it down the stairs. If Tim were here, Adam would've been more likely to push Tim down the damn stairs.

He came across Tim's hideous whitewashed jeans—the ones with the million "artful" rips in them, and he thought quite seriously about making a few new rips. Maybe cutting the whole ass off. After all, it was apparently open for business for anyone.

With that the angry buzz faded, and Adam's eyes teared up. He shut the music off and sat down on the spare inch of hideous purple comforter (Tim's idea, of course) not covered with clothes, picking up the iPad. The iPad that had been cloned to Tim's account yesterday after a stilted, awkward, and mostly silent dinner.

Tim: I so wish you had been there with me tonight. The sunset over the water was truly beautiful and I wanted to share it with you.

Morgan: I'm sure it was. The picture you sent was amazing. The escape room with the kids after work was fun. Thank goodness for Josh, or we never would've gotten out.

Tim: I'm sure. I've never done one before. We'll have to try one together someday.

Morgan: Absolutely. I have every confidence we would find our way out lol. And if not, we'd have plenty of fun being stuck together *wink emoji*

Tim: I hate to say it, but I've got to head to bed. I love you Morgan, and I miss you.

Morgan: I love you as well. Miss you so much. Goodnight buddy. You mean the world to me.

Tim: Goodnight dearest. I can't wait for the amazing future we're going to have together.

"Buddy? Who the fuck calls the person they're having an illicit affair with buddy? What the fuck? Is he a damn elf? A little?" Adam mumbled to himself. So, he had some… interesting tastes in reading. You had to get your kicks somewhere when your sex life was practically nonexistent. And really, Adam thought Tim acting like a little would make perfect sense, because he barely ever did anything for himself.

Maybe Morgan could take care of him. Maybe he would take over paying his car insurance like Tim's mom and dad. Or maybe he would foot the bill for Tim to follow his dreams and go back to college and take a twenty thousand dollar pay cut, like Adam had. "Sure, Tim, follow your dreams—you don't need to pay me half the rent anymore for the townhome," Adam said, staring at the damning messages on the iPad.

Never mind the fact that Adam knew Morgan. He was Tim's fucking boss. Never mind that Morgan was married. To a WOMAN. With three kids.

And Adam had known something was up. Sure, the late meetings were a clue. And the hour long phone calls with Morgan that showed up on the shared phone bill (which Adam paid for, of course). But Tim insisted they were friends. Colleagues. And didn't Adam want Tim to have friends? Wasn't Adam always encouraging Tim to get out more? And it's true, he was, because Adam was a ray of fucking sunshine, Tim's biggest cheerleader, and Tim was a grumpy motherfucker.

And ok, the sex had been a problem. But Adam just kinda thought maybe that's what happened when you were in your late 30s. And maybe it had been quicker and easier to get off to porn by himself than to have sex with Tim. It was just always the same. All Tim was interested in was blow jobs. Not even a fun shared sixty-nine kinda thing. Your turn, my turn. Tim never even wanted to share fantasies. What guy doesn't want to share their fantasies with their partner? And so after eight years together, Adam figured maybe Tim was just a bit of a prude. But he loved him. They had history together. They never fought. They weren't perfect, but they'd been happy. Sort of. Mostly.

The door slammed on the bottom level, then Tim's footsteps echoed on the stairs.

"Hey babe, you doin' some cleaning?" Tim asked as he walked into the room, loosening his tie.

"You fucking prick," Adam hoarsely grated out.

"What?" Tim stopped in the process of slipping off his shoes. He could never leave them by the damn door like Adam asked. Had to drag mud and shit all through the house. What an odd detail to infuriate Adam right now. But he figured just about anything would infuriate him right now.

"You FUCKING PRICK," Adam shouted, throwing the iPad down at his feet. "How could you? How could you after everything?"

Tim's face paled, but he set his jaw as he picked it up and read what was on it. Finally, after a long pause, he whispered, "Well, you have to admit we haven't been perfect lately."

"Yeah, we haven't been perfect because you've been FUCKING YOUR BOSS. Who is married to a woman, by the way. And has kids. But you have this amazing future planned out, don't you?" Adam got up off the bed, walking over to the closet to ruffle through it for his gym bag. Which, yeah, was buried somewhere because he didn't really ever go to the gym anymore.

"He's leaving his wife. I was going to tell you. I just didn't know how." Tim shrugged, dropping the iPad onto the bed. "I'm so sorry, Adam. I can't help how I feel. We just… fell in love."

"You asshole," Adam whispered. "You just fell in love." Adam did the obnoxious thing Tim hated where he put finger quotes around his words. "And just when is he leaving his wife and three kids? Hmmm?"

"The divorce will take a couple years, but it's in the works. And they sleep in separate bedrooms."

"You're a fucking moron, Tim. A divorce doesn't take ‘a couple years.' I bet he hasn't even told her. Does she know about you?"

"Of course not," Tim stiffly replied. "We can't say anything until the divorce is final."

"Well isn't that fucking convenient." Adam started pulling his own clothes out. A couple pairs of pants, some underwear and socks, some shirts, throwing the stuff into the bag. "You're such an idiot. He isn't getting divorced. I bet they don't even sleep in separate bedrooms. He isn't leaving his family for you, Tim."

Adam's eyes started to tear up, but he wouldn't give Tim the satisfaction of his tears. "But thank you. Really. Because who knows how many years I would have wasted listening to you complain about everything, supporting you through every endeavor, being your ray of fucking sunshine, only to get half your attention and your grumpy ass mood. Who knows how much longer I would have wasted living this half life where you gave me nothing and took everything. You are a selfish shit, and Morgan can fucking have you." Adam giggled then, half hysterical. "If he even wants you, which is doubtful. I was the best thing in your life and you fucking threw me away. Good luck, asshole."

Adam threw the duffel bag over his shoulder, walking out of the room. "I'm going to stay… somewhere. Pack your shit and get the fuck out of my home. Maybe you can sleep at Morgan's. Maybe you can stop by and see just how not getting divorced he actually is."

He took the steps two at a time, and by the time he was walking out the front door, he was gasping from running down the stairs and from the tears running down his face. He threw his stuff in the car, started it, and peeled out of the driveway. Fuck the neighbors.

By the time Adam was getting on the highway, he was sobbing and looking for a radio station that played something angry or depressing or break-up worthy. Then there was the blare of a horn, lights, and Adam didn't remember anything else after that.