Chapter Text
Elon Musk Seen with Mystery Boyfriend
Tumblr blinks as he rolls over in bed, bringing his phone closer to his face. That looks like—no, it couldn’t be. Regardless, he clicks on the article, taking a closer look at the photo. It’s fuzzy, but… he knows that sweater. That hair, that tilt of his head—it can’t be. But it is.
He skims through the article, quickly waking up as the realization sets in. No details, no confirmation, nothing. He sighs, looking at the picture again. Yep, only person that could be. At least it seems like a relatively new relationship.
He drops his phone to his chest, staring at the ceiling. Really?? Elon Musk??? He isn’t sure whether to think of this as a win or an all new low for Twitter.
After a couple minutes of frustrated contemplation, he forces himself to get up. Twitter getting with Elon fucking Musk is, unfortunately, no excuse for being late to work.
~~~
As Tumblr begins making yet another frappuccino, his mind goes back to the article. In all honesty, he’s barely kept his mind off of it all day. Fucking Buzzfeed.
The more he thinks about it, the more he convinces himself it isn’t true. It was early after all, and he was barely awake when he saw the picture. He can almost tell himself he believes it was just an error by the time he makes it to lunch, pulling out his phone as soon as he can get away from his coworkers. A simple Google search brings up more articles, more photos, and—yep. Still Twitter. His heart sinks as he sees one taken from the front, Twitter’s laughing face unmistakable. Tumblr takes a moment to appreciate that face; even as dread sinks in, he can’t help but notice that Twitter’s smile is still the same, the way he throws his head back in laughter, soft hair flying in the wind—he really is beautiful.
He pulls up Twitter’s contact on his phone and stares at the photo there. Even after deleting all their messages, he never could quite bring himself to block Twitter.
After a moment, he clicks the message button. He starts to type, hey, then stops. Thinks about it. i know… He deletes it and tries again. how are you? it’s been… With a sigh, he deletes the messages and closes the app. This is stupid.
He finishes his lunch quickly, trying not to think about Twitter. Or their history. Or Elon Musk and that stupid, beautiful photo of Twitter laughing at whatever dumb shit he said.
He throws himself back into work, pretending he really cares about whatever coffee the college kids are getting before their afternoon classes.
~~~
When Tumblr gets back to his apartment that night, the first thing he does is pull up Twitter’s contact on his phone again. The second thing he does is throw it across the room.
“Shit! Shitshitshit—” He drops his backpack and scrambles to pick it up, filled with instant regret. The screen is a little cracked… but not unusable. He drops onto the bed, silently cursing himself. What a fucking day.