Shattered Bonds

EPISODE 21

Tristan stepped out of the bathroom, a towel lazily slung around his waist, beads of water still clinging to his skin. His eyes fell on Drake, who was standing in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt. The sight made Tristan freeze.

Drake had always been handsome, but tonight—tonight was something else entirely. His outfit hugged his body in all the right places, the fabric molding to his toned frame like a second skin. His dark shirt was slightly unbuttoned, revealing just a hint of his collarbone, and his fitted jeans only accentuated the strong lines of his legs.

Damn.

Wild thoughts ran rampant in Tristan’s mind, thoughts he had no business entertaining, but for a split second, he let himself indulge. If Drake was his, if he could claim him, he wouldn’t hesitate to push him against the nearest surface and—

No. No, no, no. Stop.

Tristan cleared his throat, forcing his expression into something neutral before he said something insane.

“You look... delicious.”

Drake, caught off guard, choked on his own saliva, coughing as he turned to glare at Tristan. “What the hell, man?”

Tristan smirked, enjoying the reaction far too much. “Just saying the truth.” He reached for his clothes, throwing on a tight-fitting black shirt and ripped jeans before stepping into his sneakers. “Come on, let’s go before the others get tired of waiting.”

Drake grumbled something under his breath but didn’t argue. Together, they left their room and headed to the lobby, where Carl and Nathan were already waiting.

Nathan’s breath caught the moment his eyes landed on Tristan. He looked... different. The usual cocky playfulness was there, but tonight, it was mixed with something darker, something more alluring. His clothes, his posture, the way his eyes flickered with amusement—it all had Nathan’s heart beating too fast.

What the hell is wrong with me?

He shook his head, forcing himself to look away. This was ridiculous. He and Tristan were just friends.

But why did he feel so damn uneasy?

“Finally,” Carl said, standing up and stretching. “I was about to order another drink while waiting for you two.”

Tristan grinned. “What, you missed me?”

Carl rolled his eyes. “Not in the slightest. Let’s go.”

They made their way to the club, the heavy bass vibrating through the ground as they stepped inside. Their reserved table was waiting for them, drinks already set. They wasted no time, diving into the alcohol and letting the atmosphere consume them.

Drake had been doing his best to avoid looking at Tristan all night. But it was damn near impossible.

Especially when Tristan walked to the bar, his movements fluid, exuding a confidence that was hard to ignore.

When Tristan returned, ice clinking in his glass, Drake couldn’t help himself. He grabbed Tristan’s wrist, pulling him closer so he could speak directly into his ear.

“You look hot.”

Tristan smirked, tilting his head slightly. “Oh? Is that so?”

Drake nodded, his breath fanning against Tristan’s skin. “Yeah.”

“Thanks,” Tristan replied smoothly, but there was a glint in his eyes, a dangerous one. Before Drake could react, Tristan grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the dance floor.

“Wait—I can’t dance,” Drake protested, trying to pull back.

“Nonsense. You just haven’t had the right teacher.”

Drake groaned but let himself be dragged onto the floor. The music pulsed around them, a steady, hypnotic beat that made it impossible not to move. Tristan wasted no time, pressing up against Drake, guiding his movements.

Bodies moved together, the space between them shrinking until there was barely any left. Tristan’s hands found Drake’s waist, steadying him as they swayed, their bodies aligning in a way that sent heat rushing through Tristan’s veins.

“I thought you said you couldn’t dance,” Tristan teased, his voice husky.

Drake, who had initially been stiff, found himself falling into the rhythm. He scoffed. “I never said I was this bad.”

Tristan chuckled, his fingers tightening on Drake’s waist. It was getting harder to ignore the effect this was having on him. The way Drake moved, the way his body fit so perfectly against Tristan’s—it was too much.

Nathan, sitting at their table, had not looked away once. His jaw clenched as he watched Tristan and Drake move together, their bodies so close it made something in his chest twist painfully.

“Stop staring. It’s obvious,” Carl murmured, nudging Nathan’s arm.

Nathan snapped out of it, scowling. “Shut up.”

Carl sighed. “You’re jealous.”

Nathan didn’t respond. Instead, he stood abruptly, making his way to the dance floor. He walked straight up to Drake, murmuring something in his ear.

Drake nodded, turning to Tristan. “I’ll be right back, just using the restroom.”

Tristan nodded, watching as Drake left. But before he could dwell on it, Nathan stepped into Drake’s place. "Mind if I cut in?"

Tristan raised an eyebrow. "Feeling bold tonight, huh?"

Nathan smirked, though there was something forced about it. "Maybe."

They started moving, and for a while, neither spoke. The music throbbed around them, but the silence between them felt heavier.

Then Nathan finally spoke. "You’ve changed a lot."

Tristan tilted his head. "Is that a bad thing?"

Nathan hesitated before shaking his head. "No. Just… different."

Tristan huffed a small laugh. "We all change, Nathan. That’s life."

Nathan looked down for a moment, then lifted his eyes. "Do you like him?"

Tristan tensed slightly. "Is it that obvious?"

Nathan’s smile was tight. "Painfully."

Tristan chuckled. "Then why is Drake so oblivious?"

Nathan exhaled, shaking his head. "I don’t know. But... it’s good, I guess. That you’ve moved on. From Carl."

Tristan nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. "Yeah. I guess I have."

Nathan’s chest tightened. He knew he should be happy for Tristan, but the sharp ache inside him said otherwise. He forced a smile. "That’s good."

Tristan eyed him. "You okay?"

Nathan nodded quickly. "Yeah. Just tired. Let’s head back."

They walked back to the table, but Nathan’s mind was spinning. He barely registered Drake returning, barely heard the conversation around him. He just sat there, lost in thoughts he wasn’t ready to face.

Meanwhile, Drake was returning when a stranger blocked his path.

“You’re hot,” the guy said with a smirk. “Wanna dance?”

Drake shook his head. “No, thanks.”

But the guy stepped closer, clearly not taking the hint.

Before he could insist, a strong hand landed on his shoulder.

“Back off,” Tristan’s voice was low, firm, leaving no room for argument.

The guy turned, looking Tristan up and down before scoffing and walking away.

Tristan grabbed Drake’s wrist. “You okay?”

Drake nodded. “Yeah.”

Tristan didn’t say anything else. Instead, he took Drake’s hand and led him back to the table. As soon as they reached their seats, Tristan announced, "I’m done here. Drake and I are leaving."

Drake blinked. "Wait, what?"

Carl and Nathan looked equally surprised. "Dude, we just got here," Carl pointed out.

Tristan wasn’t budging. "Not asking. I’m leaving with Drake."

He grabbed Drake’s hand and led him out of the club.

Nathan let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. "Unbelievable let's get out of here Carl."

---

Later, back at the hotel, Carl watched as Nathan threw his jacket onto the bed and stormed into the bathroom. When he emerged a minute later, Carl was still sitting there, arms crossed, watching him closely.

Nathan groaned. "What?"

Carl didn't say a thing

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "I can’t believe Tristan cut our fun short just because he was jealous. I mean, it’s normal for someone to hit on Drake, especially since he’s good-looking. Tristan just stormed off like he owns the guy."

Carl leaned back. "Nathan, you have feelings for Tristan. And I’m not asking. I’m telling you."

Nathan swallowed hard. "That’s not—"

"I don’t know when it started," Carl interrupted, "but I’ll give you some advice. Don’t ruin your friendship over this. Because whatever feelings you have? They won’t be reciprocated."

Nathan clenched his jaw, his mind and heart in complete chaos as Carl walked into the bathroom, leaving him alone with the storm inside him.