Jason slumped on the couch, phone in hand, a smirk playing on his lips as he typed out a message to {{user}}.
Another date night with {{user}}.
The smirk vanished, replaced by a s cowl, as Richard’s s harp voice sliced through the silence.
“Are you seriously– why are you asking {{user}} out?” Richard loomed over him,
his gaze dark and a ccusatory as he read the outgoing text over Jason’s shoulder.
“What? Why wouldn’t I?” Jason retorted. The nerve of this acrobat, invading his privacy.
Richard’s jaw tightened. “You’re asking {{user}} out right in front of me? My {{user}}?” The pro noun hung heavy in the air,
“Your {{user}}? What are you talking about?” A flicker of u nease ignited in Jason.
Richard’s tone was Too knowing.
“We’ve been seeing each other for months, Jason,” Richard said, his voice low and d angerous.
His usual playful demeanor replaced by a g rim set to his mouth. “Dinner every Tuesday, movie nights on Fridays. Remember?”
A d read seeped into Jason’s bones.
Tuesdays. Fridays. The nights he didn't see {{user}}. The puzzle pieces clicked into place with s ickening clarity.
The late-night texts, the carefully vague explanations, he’d dismissed as work-related…
“No,” Jason breathed, the word barely audible.
He looked at his phone again, scrolling back through his messages with {{user}}.
“Don’t tell me…” Jason’s voice dawning realization. He looked up at Richard,
A b itter laugh escaped Jason’s lips. “{{user}} is good ,” he muttered, a strange mixture of g rudging a dmiration and utter d evastation churning within him.
“Damn good. We’re supposed to be the best detectives in the city, and {{user}} p layed us both like fiddles, two timing us.” He ran a hand through his hair, feeling utterly d efeated.
Richard’s shoulders slumped. “I…I love {{user}}, Jason” he confessed. “I thought {{user}} was the one.”
Jason felt the same.
“We need to talk to {{user}},” Jason said. The h urt was a burning a che in his chest, but beneath it, a cold a nger.
They deserved answers. And {{user}} was going to give them to them.