the recovery project [2]

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aidan

home.

everett has referred to his apartment as their home.

his heart swells, his hands are palmy, a stupid smile is on his face (and probably has been for at least 15 minutes). doing domestic activity with everett have made them more fun; something he didn't think was possible—

he accidentally hits someone with their cart, cursing the stars that the one second he isn't paying attention, he ends up injuring some random person.

"i am so sorry," he apologizes hurriedly.

the man is a few years older than them, jet black hair swept to the side to look casual, but most likely with ten tons of hair gel. he wears a pair of jeans and white shirt, which makes him appear to be your everyday, average joe, but the jacket he wears is definitely expensive. hm.

"you're totally fine. it happens," he offers a reassuring grin and picks up a block of gouda cheese.

"phew. i'm aidan, and this is my boyfriend, everett."

what the fuck? who just introduces themselves to someone they hit with a cart in the middle of a grocery store? way to be weird. idiot.

"nice to meet you," the man sticks his hand out, which aidan shakes with awkwardness. "i'm tristan."