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It was always great to see Will. They sometimes didn’t have the chance to meet up for weeks, maybe even months at a time; they texted consistently, of course, but there was something about Will’s dimpled grin that a simple selfie always failed to truly replicate.
Noah had brought Nicholas along for the meetup, their hands intertwined the entire time because Nicholas was one for simple touch, physical contact, and Noah was always inclined to oblige his boyfriend. It didn’t strike him as odd that Nicholas stayed relatively quiet: Nicholas didn’t chime into conversations much unless it was people he knew well, and Will and Nicholas had existed together without their lives becoming very intertwined.
The experience was still wonderful. Nicholas laughed a lot, even if he didn’t speak up, and there was always a warmth that lit Noah’s gut when he got to hear that soft, gentle sound. It wasn’t a giggle, wasn’t a chuckle, was something somewhere between — and the way it lit Nicholas’s face, god, he was beautiful. He wore joy and happiness with such ease and grace, even if it wasn’t broadcast in bright, drastic detail.
At the end of the hangout, Will offered a fistbump to Noah and then a handshake to Nicholas, which felt silly. It was, in fact, made even more ridiculous by Will’s explanation: “I have to impress Noah’s partner.” As if it was some sort of question whether Will had a place in Noah’s life. As if there was any way of extracting Will from it, Nicholas’s approval notwithstanding, that wouldn’t leave a large, aching hole.
Noah watched Will leave, and he wasn’t minding his expression for once. He was just feeling, sitting in the delight from the past couple of hours, experiencing the bone-deep warmth of being with people who cared about him. It hadn’t always been like this for him, and sometimes he got overwhelmed with making space for all of the love in his chest without it bursting his ribs.
Nicholas looked at him for a long, quiet moment before finally saying, “You know he’s in love with you, right?”
It was hard on a good day for Noah to nail down the tones people used. He’d gotten better at reading expressions because he’d had to, had to force himself to understand what it meant when someone crinkled their noise or twisted their mouth at him — it had been a brutal sort of trial and error, a learning curve that stung, but he’d, for better or worse, learned to decipher most arrangements of features.
Nicholas was especially easy for Noah to read, and perhaps that was in part due to the familiarity between them. So Noah was surprised to look over at his boyfriend, eyebrows raised, to find a patient sort of expression; there was no anger or indignation, just a hint of sadness. It was hard to parse if he seemed resigned, but there was an acceptance in the softness of his gaze. Whatever he thought about the situation, he wasn’t fighting it.
What was there to fight, though? Nicholas was wrong. He had to be wrong. Surely Noah would have noticed that one of his closest friends was in love with him. “I don’t think he is,” he managed to get out, glancing back after Will as if that last glimpse of him would unravel the odd knot in his gut.
“I know he is, Noah,” Nicholas sighed, dropping his head onto Noah’s shoulder. He pulled away when Noah stiffened, frowned up at him. Now he looked upset, and Noah was too caught up in a flurry of feelings to discern why that was. He couldn’t pick clues from Nicholas’s features when he was too busy keeping his own schooled to conceal the fact he was feeling approximately sixty-one things at once.
Noah shook his head, let go of Nicholas’s hand to rake his hair back with both hands. “Why would he be in love with me, Nick? That doesn’t make sense,” he argued, taking half a step away because he really couldn’t do touch in that moment.
It spoke volumes of how well Nicholas knew him by now that Nicholas didn’t try to follow Noah, just shoved his hands in his pockets — probably an attempt to wordlessly communicate that he was going to give Noah space. That unspoken promise loosened the line of Noah’s shoulders a bit, but then the tension tightened right back up at Nicholas’s words. “Why doesn’t it make sense? You’re an amazing guy. Will sees that. Clearly.”
The compliment wasn’t being touched with a ten foot fucking pole in that moment. Noah had more important things to worry about. “But I’m dating you. I’ve been dating you since Will and I met. He knows I’m—” Noah knew it wasn’t that simple, but he was fighting against reality and his own understanding of emotions like he could force it to become the truth.
People couldn’t rationalize their way out of their feelings; Noah knew that better than anyone. But Will didn’t deserve what would follow, the logical conclusion to this. Noah didn’t want to hurt him, but he didn’t see a way out unscathed for someone as full-hearted as Will if Nicholas was right.
“Take a breath, Noah,” Nicholas urged softly, and his words brought Noah’s attention to how his lungs burned. He hummed as Noah took a few deep, shaky breaths, and the smile he offered was a somber, bittersweet sort of expression. “You can talk to him. I just . . . wanted you to know. It didn’t feel fair.” It was meant to be an explanation, clearly, but it only brought up more questions.
Which was why Noah frowned at Nicholas, crinkled his brow in confusion. “What doesn’t feel fair?” he asked, wondering if he’d done something wrong without realizing it. Social missteps had gotten so few and far between by this point in his life, but the potential always lingered, the ghosts of past foibles haunting him. (And those were the quieter phantoms he carried.)
Nicholas sighed softly, and Noah almost worried he was pushing the limits of his boyfriend’s patience. No, though, it was a sad sound, Noah thought. “I don’t want Will to pine after you if you’re not interested in him,” Nicholas explained, and there was that steady rhythm to his words, reassurance that he wasn’t resentful of needing to offer them.
If you’re not interested in him. Except Noah was dating Nicholas, so of course he wasn’t interested in Will. He wasn’t allowed to be, even if Will’s eyes were depths he threatened to lose himself in, even if Will’s cherry blossom curls always tempted Noah to wind his fingers through them. They were strictly friends, and Noah would tell himself the way he felt about Will was completely and wholly platonic until it stuck because that was the only option.
He loved Nicholas more than anything or anyone else. He wasn’t relinquishing that.
But Noah agreed to talk to Will; he’d make sure Nicholas wasn’t wrong, even if the conversation would be odd and stilted, and then he’d let Will down gently. Maybe he could even manage enough tact to preserve their friendship; they could both walk away feeling okay about everything, even if Noah couldn’t give Will what Nicholas alleged he wanted.
The chance came a few weeks later when their schedules miraculously aligned. Will invited Noah over to hang out with the cats — they’d order some sushi and watch anime. Totally not a date, just a chance to chill as friends, but Noah still obsessed over how Will viewed the situation as he walked up to the door.
It was too late now to back out, so Noah just needed to get it over with. He felt the hunch in his own shoulders, his bangs blocking some of his vision as he stared down at the stupid doormat Will had on his front porch. He scuffed a shoe against the corner of it, huffed softly. Don’t let the cats out or the cops in. As if Will’s cats had any interest in the outside world. Why would they, really, when Will spoiled them so much inside the house?
Noah wasn’t sure if he zoned out, but by the time he lifted his head and fist to knock, the door was already open. Will was simply standing there, eyebrows raised and an amused grin on his lips. Okay, yeah, Noah had definitely checked out for a minute there. “Hey,” he offered weakly, as if Will hadn’t caught him empty-headed and lost somewhere else.
Not that it seemed to bother Will. “You busy thinking about Nick?” he teased, tilting his head. “You can do that inside my house, you know. Looks a little less weird to the neighbors.” As if he cared what his neighbors thought, but Noah didn’t point that out.
He shuffled inside instead, for once grateful that Will was oblivious to smaller, subtler social cues. Despite how awkward Noah felt (and the way he could sense he carried it in his body), Will rambled about the anime they were slated to watch. They’d started it together last month, had binged far too many episodes in a row — and they’d only realized just how much time had passed because Nicholas had called Noah to check on him and when he was coming home.
Shoes off. Greeting one cat, then the second. Trailing Will to the kitchen, where sushi was already waiting (“I know your order and you always get the same shit, so I figured I’d go ahead and order. And I was hungry as fuck.”), and Noah moved to grab a drink before pausing, sighing. He shut the fridge door, empty-handed, and turned to find Will with chopsticks and a giant piece of sushi balanced delicately between them.
Noah was kind enough to at least wait for the sushi to make it to Will’s mouth before he spoke. “We need to talk,” he sighed, scratching at his jaw.
Maybe he should have waited longer. Will’s eyebrows rose and he attempted to respond — but, well, his mouthful of food made that difficult. His eyebrows drew together and he finished his bite before licking his lips and nodding. “Yeah, okay. Is this a serious talk? It looks serious.”
It didn’t seem like Will was too concerned at first, just sat the sushi tray aside and hopped up to sit on the edge of the table. His head tilted to an inquisitive angle, curls bouncing a little with the movement, and he gave Noah a curious, wide-eyed look that twisted at Noah’s chest until it ached. It was supposed to be an easy, even if uncomfortable, conversation. He’d keep it straightforward and honest. Will—
Will looked a little concerned now. “Did I do something wrong, dude? You can just tell me, I’m not gonna be pissed,” he told Noah, leaning forward a little.
“You didn’t—“ For all of his wit, for his clever words and pleasant phrases when composing songs, Noah found he fumbled important conversations like this a lot. He blamed it on the inability to prepare, the lack of practice. He couldn’t rehearse. He’d tried, of course, but the mental script he’d drafted had included an estimate of Will’s behavior and he had, somehow (like always), misjudged how the other party was going to act.
Which left Noah empty-handed, palms itchy and breath threatening to catch.
Will was waiting. There was an expectation in his expression, a curiosity in his eyes; he didn’t seem anxious, but the way his eyebrows drew together seemed to suggest concern. Maybe Noah was misreading everything on Will’s face, though. It was hard to keep his little notes about facial features sorted and neat when his brain was buzzing.
Noah took a breath and stepped closer, paused, stepped back. His hands went to his pockets, then he crossed his arms, then he rubbed the back of his neck. Nothing felt right. He was dancing along a tightrope in the dark, uncertain if there was wind to knock his path askance. “Nick said you like me,” he finally said, tone a little flat. He wished he could leave it there, could leave the amendment because he thought it’d make things easier.
But there was a nagging voice in the back of Noah’s head. That wasn’t honest — that wasn’t right. That wasn’t what Nicholas had said. “He said you’re in love with me.” The correction tasted bitter on Noah’s tongue, and he felt himself wince.
Maybe it was because Will always blurted answers to every question, retorts to every statement, in an instant; regardless, the echo of nothing that followed made Noah’s stomach drop. (It was an odd metaphor, but it felt right. It felt like suddenly nothing was holding him up and part of himself had fallen through the floor.)
Noah looked up from his feet to find Will just looking at him. He was wearing some sort of expression, but Noah couldn’t name it, and he felt panic swell in his throat for it. Was Will upset? Was he embarrassed? Was he angry?
Except Will laughed. Will laughed, and it was loud, and it sounded wrong. Noah tapped his thumb and middle finger together on his right hand, tilted his head a little. It wasn’t a happy laugh; it didn’t seem like Will found anything funny. So why was he laughing?
“I was wondering if you’d ever figure it out,” Will remarked, and his expression seemed to flicker like a lightbulb with a short. “Yeah, Noah, I’m in love with you.” The honesty seemed to come easily, like it always did with Will, and Noah would normally have appreciated it.
It was hard to appreciate a truth when it landed like this, though.
Noah frowned at Will’s shoulder, no longer able to tolerate processing his features. “What does that mean? Have you—” Oh. “How long have you been in love with me?” Noah asked, and that seemed to be the right question for the moment.
Will shrugged, and the motion was big and loose like it always was, but Noah also saw the way Will clutched the edge of the table until his knuckles whitened. “I don’t know. A while? But you’ve always been with Nick, and you seemed happy, so it was cool. I’d rather you be happy with him, you know? And Nick’s a cool guy.” A beat of silence, and then Will was talking again: “I always wonder if you’d love me too, if Nick wasn’t in the picture.”
The concept was an odd one for Noah to wrap his head around. Nicholas was in the picture, so why would it matter how things would have been otherwise? He opened his mouth to ask for an explanation, paused, shut it again.
But Will seemed to catch that brief moment and offered an answer to the question Noah hadn’t asked. “I know it doesn’t really matter. It’s more wondering if I’m someone you could have loved, you know? Like, if the moments we have could have meant something,” he explained.
The moments we have. What was Will referring to? Noah needed to—
Noah needed to stay in the moment. “Oh,” he offered, a vague sort of acknowledgment, just so Will knew Noah had heard him. He dared a glance at Will’s face, and what he saw made the tightness in his shoulders loosen a little. Will didn’t look angry. There might have been a little sadness, but he wasn’t angry.
Will nodded and gave a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s cool, though. Like I said. You’re a good friend, and you might be wrong about a lot of shit when it comes to anime, but I like giving you hell for it. Speaking of.” He cleared his throat and shook his head, curls flying about with the force of it. “Are we still watching the show?”
Were they still watching the show? Noah hadn’t thought that far ahead. He didn’t see why they couldn’t, though. They had discussed what they needed to, and Noah had his answer. He couldn’t give a response right now, but Will seemed to know that. Will knew a lot of things about Noah. “I need to think,” Noah vocalized, just so they were both on the same page, “but we can watch the show.” A glance at the sushi on the counter.
The look was noticed, and Will laughed again, but this time it felt more authentic, lighter. “And eat, you dork.” He jumped down off the table and snagged his tray, clicking his chopsticks at Noah. “We can talk whenever you’re ready.” It was an easy sort of agreement, like Will didn’t mind waiting. (Noah couldn’t tell how much he meant that, though.)
Time passed — it always kept moving, no matter how stuck Noah was in his thoughts. The spiral wound tighter and tighter over the next two days, constricting him until he found himself curled up on his couch and staring at nothing. He heard someone walk into the room, leave, come back; felt the couch dip under someone’s weight, though no touch every came, which told Noah who it was. Nicholas seemed to always know when he didn’t want to be touched.
“Noah,” Nicholas started, and there was a softness to his words that managed to snag at Noah’s attention. It took a moment to come back into the present moment, into the living room, onto the couch next to his boyfriend, but then Noah was blinking at him and tilting his head a little. “Have you talked to Will?” There was no accusation, no expression of concern, and he found himself grateful for that.
It was probably obvious that Noah had talked to Will, but Nicholas’s phrasing made it easier to admit he’d kept the conversation tucked close to his chest. Noah nodded, unwrapped his arms from around his legs to stretch them out: one lowered, foot resting on the carpet, and the other draped across Nicholas’s lap, wordless permission for contact. “Yeah,” he answered.
Nicholas paused, tugging lightly on Noah’s sweats to smooth the wrinkles there. “Did it not go well?” he asked, a gentle sort of push toward sharing.
The whole thing was too confusing for Noah to parse, and he’d yet to share in hopes he could unravel the mystery before he discussed it with Nicholas. Especially since something in that interaction had started Noah down a mental trail he hadn’t known existed — or perhaps that had started at Nicholas’s observation. It was a tangled, winding sort of path, and Noah couldn’t see very far ahead. He’d almost doubled back several times before deciding he needed to see it through, needed to understand.
Something told Noah, now, that he wasn’t going to manage that without Nicholas’s help.
“It went okay. Will said he does love me, but he’s not upset. I . . .” Something occurred to Noah and he frowned at Nicholas’s chin. “I didn’t tell him how I felt,” he admitted.
The small smile that appeared on Nicholas’s lips caught Noah off guard. “Do you know how you feel about Will?” he prompted, and there was a genuine curiosity there. It didn’t feel like Nicholas was asking how Noah felt; that didn’t seem like an unspoken inquiry, tacked on without words, but like Nicholas already understood and was simply wondering if Noah did.
And that was the crux of all of this. Noah wasn’t sure. “I’m not supposed to feel anything romantic for him,” he answered, almost an automatic sort of thing. Those were the rules, after all. Noah was dating Nicholas; to be a good boyfriend, he couldn’t be attracted to or interested in other people. It was something he’d had reinforced his entire life in rants by friends about their partners, in media that he’d despised but sat through for the sake of others.
Nicholas smoothed a hand down Noah’s calf and shook his head. “That’s not what I asked. I don’t care about what you should be feeling. I care about what you actually feel.” It felt like an unexpected gift, wrapped up neat and pretty, but Noah knew that opening it would only reveal the same sentiment. There was nothing hidden beneath, just an unwavering sort of acceptance.
Acceptance of what? Clearly, Nicholas knew something Noah either didn’t or wouldn’t let himself know. That was usually how it worked, though. He was mostly okay with that, trusted Nicholas to not grow impatient, or frustrated, or exasperated. “I don’t know,” Noah finally answered, voice stiff with internally-oriented frustration.
Rather than offer an answer, rather than provide his own perspective, Nicholas was quiet, watching Noah curiously. His hair was pulled back in a loose sort of bun, strands hanging down in his face, and Noah wanted to fidget with the bits of hair, twist his fingers in them. That required moving, though, and Noah felt immobilized by the feat he was faced with.
So he toyed with his own hair instead, the ends of loose locks that he rarely bothered to pull up when lounging. It gave Noah something to watch too, to focus his gaze on as he thought. He took his time picking apart the tangled knot in his chest, and it suddenly felt manageable now that Nicholas was sitting here with him. Nicholas made everything smaller, easier to face, life-sized rather than impossibly huge.
“I think I like Will too,” Noah finally announced, and the words felt right on his tongue. He needed to make sure, though, so he repeated himself: “I think I like Will too.” A nod, a commitment to the statement, and then Noah’s gaze flicked to Nicholas. He knew what response would have come from most anyone else, but this was one of those rare times when he was lost on what to expect from his partner.
Nicholas was already smiling when Noah’s gaze settled. “Okay. You like Will too.” He paused. “Do you want to tell Will? I’m not going to make you,” he added, though that was one bit of clarification that Noah hadn’t needed. He knew Nicholas wouldn’t pressure him into any action at all; there had never been that type of dynamic between the two. Even when Noah was immobilized by a decision, Nicholas was always encouraging, never forceful.
It felt like a hard question to answer. “I want to,” Noah sighed, and he ducked his head a little. “But I still love you too.” Because that was what this moment required, was it not? A decision? A choice? He couldn’t fathom choosing someone over Nicholas.
A gentle squeeze to Noah’s leg. “I love you too,” Nicholas assured Noah. “I love you, and I’m not asking you to choose between us. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Hey. Look at me, Noah.” Eye contact, hesitant and brief, before Noah’s eyes fixed on Nicholas’s nose instead. “I’m not asking if you still want to be with me. I know you do. Do you want to be with Will too?”
Too. In addition. As well as. Noah’s brain rattled through what that single word implied, and every explanation loosened the muscles in his shoulders even as it tangled his thoughts up into something he struggled to hold in both hands. “I can date both of you?” Noah clarified, feeling endlessly stupid for needing to ask.
Nicholas didn’t seem annoyed, though, or exasperated, or impatient. He just nodded and gave a soft, warm smile that always felt a lot like being wrapped up in Noah’s favorite blanket — soft, thick, with a bit of weight to it. “You can, if Will’s okay with it.” He paused and then tipped his head; his smile shifted very slightly, a bit sheepish now. “I’m not immune to his weird charms either, you know,” he added, seeming to be hinting at something.
Whatever that something was, it wouldn’t click in Noah’s head. He blinked at Nicholas a few times and then shook his head slowly. “I don’t know what you mean by that.” He stated it plainly, folding his hands in his lap.
“I’ve thought about what it’d be like to date Will too,” Nicholas explained as his cheeks flushed. “I don’t think he looks at me like that, but I’ve thought about it.” He took a breath and hummed at the puzzled look from Noah. “I have a lot of love in me, Noah. I’ve always felt comfortable sharing it with more than one partner. I just haven’t met anyone else since we got together, so it never came up,” he explained.
Oh. There was a word for that, wasn’t there? Noah lost himself in thought, gaze unfocusing, and he only came back into the moment at a squeeze to his leg — gentle, just firm enough to draw his attention. “I’m here,” Noah offered, managing to tuck the need to label this thing away where it hopefully wouldn’t bother him too much. He could delve into terms and language later; he was having a conversation now.
Nicholas laughed softly. “I’m glad you’re back. Do you want to date Will too? If that’s an option,” he added, clarifying before Noah could inquire. It was always helpful when Nicholas could anticipate him, could prevent him from needing to ask questions that felt clumsy and ignorant.
Noah pursed his lips and thought, fiddling with the ends of his hair. “Yeah,” he answered with a small, tentative nod. A second, more confident nod. “Yeah, I do. So I need to talk to him, right? And ask him if he wants this too?” Again, part of his brain disparaged himself for needing it to be stated so plainly, but hearing it out loud meant he wouldn’t ruminate on if he’d done things correctly.
“Yeah. You talk to him, figure out what he wants, and go from there.” Nicholas paused. “I can be there too, if you want,” he added.
And, really, Noah was never going to turn down the chance to have Nicholas there for a challenging moment. Noah texted Will and asked him to come over; through some stroke of luck, Will was available that evening, and gave an arrival time that Noah knew to add half an hour to. While they waited, Noah rehearsed what he’d say, not needing much feedback from Nicholas so much as desiring a repetition and intentional arrangement of words to settle his nerves.
It had almost worked, and Noah was almost at ease, when the doorbell rang. Noah looked at the clock and snorted softly to himself — Will was late, almost exactly thirty minutes overdue — before swinging his legs off of Nicholas and placing his feet on the floor. He had only just shifted his face into something he hoped was cute and endearing, turned it to Nicholas to attempt to charm him into answering the door for Noah, when Nicholas stood up.
Nicholas paused as if he wanted to give Noah a chance to practice the expression. Judging by the way he laughed, it wasn’t the most effective. It still earned Noah a kiss on the forehead, and then Nicholas was walking out of the room, down the short entry hall. Nicholas’s voice drifted in, interwoven with Will’s: Noah could catch faint hints of Nicholas’s words, while Will’s were far louder, carried with more clarity.
(Noah wondered how fast “a little over the speed limit” actually was.)
When Will and Nicholas made it back into the living room, Will trailed off mid-sentence, seeming to lose track of whatever tale he’d been regaling Nicholas with. “Did someone die?” he asked, a hint of something odd in his voice. It wasn’t quite humor, though his words lilted like it was. Luckily, Will explained his question: “You look like you just got the world’s shittiest news, dude.”
Noah wasn’t used to people being able to read his face. Sure, he could play pretend at expressions fairly well, but he wasn’t attempting that charade now. “I need to talk to you.” He shook his head, tried again. “We need to talk to you,” he corrected, confused why Will looked nervous now.
“It’s not about anything bad,” Nicholas clarified, moving to sit next to Noah on the couch. He gave Noah a look, raised his eyebrows slightly. Oh. He was being ominous again. “Noah and I were talking, and we had a question for you. Well. A couple of questions. Good ones, we hope.” The smile he gave Will seemed to ease Will a bit, and the latter proceeded to drop onto the armchair with such abruptness that his curls bounced.
Will nodded and sprawled his limbs out in some chaotic spectacle that always made Noah want to laugh, though his amusement couldn’t quite cut through the uncertainty of the moment. “Okay, shoot. What’s up?” he asked, dropping his head back and raising his eyebrows.
Now that it was time to actually ask the question, Noah’s mind went blank. A moment of noise, a cacophony of chaos and too many thoughts to count, and then static. The rehearsal really had been an exercise to self-soothe rather than anything helpful or practical, it seemed. He frowned, tilted his head, fidgeted with his own hands. “Do you want to date me?” he finally asked, figuring a blunt approach was easiest to manage.
That earned one, two, three beats of silence. Will glanced from Noah to Nicholas and back, cleared his throat. “Is this— Nick seems super chill right now, but are you punking me?” he asked, sitting up a little but leaving one leg draped over a chair arm.
Nicholas laughed softly and shook his head. “We’re not bullshitting, I promise. Noah and I were talking about things, and we want to know what you want before we say anything else.”
Maybe the practicing had helped; they’d at least decided which order to address things in, and Noah had somehow held onto that vague blueprint for the conversation even amidst the panic. Noah could sense this was the moment to chime in, and he spoke up with intention to each chosen word. “I realized that I have feelings for you too, but I also still love Nicholas. Apparently it’s an option to date more than one person,” he explained.
It seemed the information surprised Will too — though perhaps it was more the confession on Noah’s part than the remark about dating rules. “Oh,” Will exhaled, and it felt like such a short, stilted remark for how verbose Will usually was. “You . . . like me.” The echo came with a tone Noah couldn’t place.
So, of course, Noah looked to Nicholas. For all his familiarity with Will, he still hesitated to ask for clarification; so many people had been comfortable with Noah’s quirks until his inquiries for explanations became too frequent, and then they’d decided he was too much effort. The last thing he wanted was for the peculiar wiring of his brain to push Will away.
Nicholas shook his head, reaching to squeeze Noah’s hand as if he could sense the way it made Noah’s gut twist. He made brief eye contact, tilted his head toward Will, and the message was clear enough: Ask him.
“I do like you,” Noah affirmed, gaze shifting back to Will. There was a brightening there now, a light sparking, and it made his question form more easily. “Is that a good thing?”
The way Will laughed almost made Noah stiffen, but then Will grinned so wide his dimples made an appearance. “Yeah, it’s a good thing, Noah. I was convinced you and Nicholas were so gay for each other that I was just gonna be your friend forever. Which would have been cool, by the way. I’m not some dude-bro complaining about being friendzoned. I’m just really fucking surprised there’s another option. Are— You’re sure, Nick? Like, fully vibing with this?” He looked to Nicholas, and there was something intense in his expression now.
There were certain expressions that Noah only noticed Nicholas wear with him, some that only their closest friends received; the warmth of this one felt intimate, like the former category, and it made Noah relax. “Yeah, I’m vibing with this.” The words sounded bizarre coming from Nicholas, as if being spoken in such a soft tone made them hit Noah’s ears differently. “I actually . . .” He trailed off and flushed, which was something Noah hadn’t seen since they first started dancing with the idea of dating.
Will seemed to recognize it for what it was because he gave another short, slightly loud laugh. “Oh shit. Okay. Yeah, uh, cool. Do you want— Would this be an us thing, then?” he asked, gesturing between the three of them. “Like, all of us?” His eyebrows were up, eyes wide, but he still grinned like before.
Noah nodded, clutched Nicholas’s hand a bit tighter — the increase in pressure more a reaction to his own excitement than nerves now. “If you’re okay with it,” he insisted. He wished he could add more emotion to the words, make them ring sincere, but he hoped it would be enough, that Will knew him well enough to trust what he was saying: there was no pressure, no expectation, no demand.
Suddenly, Will was perched on the couch next to Noah. “Yeah, I’m okay with it. Two gorgeous guys want to date me? And they already know what a fucking goblin I am? Hell yeah, I’m okay with it.” He stopped, tilted his head quick enough to make his curls bounce. “Will you two help me figure this out, though? I know you both already have your own thing. I don’t want to fuck it up,” he said.
“You won’t,” Nicholas replied without hesitation, “but we’ll help as much as you want. We’ll have to talk about things — not that you have any trouble talking.” It surprised Noah how the teasing fell so easily from Nicholas’s lips, but perhaps it shouldn’t have. It also sparked a sense of endearment in him that he could only sate by kissing Nicholas’s cheek.
Will’s reply was lost in the buzzing of Noah’s thoughts. He knew Will was bantering back, but all Noah could focus on was the callous on Nicholas’s finger from his pencil, worn into the skin by years of drawing incessantly; the hum of the outlet nearby, steady and more reassuring than disruptive; and the one curl of Will’s that fell into his face, shook about as Will laughed at something Nicholas said.
There was no conscious decision made before Noah was reaching up to brush the curls back, fingertips lingering. “Can I kiss you?” Noah asked without paying heed to the current rhythm of conversation.
Not that Will seemed to mind. He did take a moment to blink and process Noah’s words, and then he was nodding with his whole body. “Yeah,” he exhaled as he leaned in, making contact before Noah could close the distance. It was a slightly clumsy kiss, but it lit up Noah’s body like a firework, like lights at a stadium show, like lightning splitting storm-darkened skies.
And when he pulled back, Noah realized he’d do damn near anything to kiss Will for the rest of his life.