Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The Book Club, Chapter 13

Simon:

The next day I wake up in a super good mood (hmm… why might that be?). I attempt to wake Baz with kisses (and the gentle poke of my boner against his leg) but all he does is crack one eye open at me, smile slightly, and close his eyes again. When I persist, he reaches behind him to grab a pillow and swats at me with it. 

I conclude from this that he’s not done sleeping yet.

Ah; never mind. I’m used to Baz’s morning moods. This doesn’t puncture my good mood in the least.

He loves me; I love him; we have phenomenal sex. 

I’m hungry, though, so I put on boxers and a clean t-shirt and head downstairs for breakfast. Maybe after I stuff myself I’ll be able to rejoin Baz and fall asleep again.

I’m pressing down the sizzling bacon with a spatula when Niall wanders into the kitchen. “Hmm… is that for everybody?”

“It can be,” I answer. “Though I better throw some more on the pan. I’m famished.”

“Burn a lot of calories last night, did you?”

I give him a sideways glance, “Possibly.” We both have a bit of a laugh.

“So how are things going with you and Dev?” I ask. I haven’t had a chance to talk to him alone since the other day when they announced they were a couple.

“It’s going well...very well. He’s more affectionate than I ever hoped for.”

“Well I’m glad you finally talked to him about stuff. I was starting to wonder if you’d changed your mind about him.”

“As if-! Definitely not. No, I’m in deep with the lovely Mr. Grimm.” He pauses. “Which leads me to a question.”

What in the world is he going to ask? I’m not in a position to give anyone advice about anything. I’m too new to this relationship stuff.

“My question,” Niall continues, “Is whether you would help me cook a special dinner for Dev tonight. I wanted to see if he and I could use the new party spot up on the roof tonight. And you could be our waiter while Baz plays violin. Please .”

I laugh. “Well, that sounds better than sitting around watching TV again. We could do that. Though I better check with Baz first. He might want us to go up there again tonight; you never know.”

Niall: 

Simon says he’ll cook, as long as he can make spaghetti (according to him that’s his specialty) and I go to the store ahead of time for the ingredients. He makes a list. He says we’ll need salad, garlic bread, and meatballs for the full restaurant experience, so he has me buying all the little bits and pieces for that.

I’ve been feeling remiss about never properly wining, dining, and wooing Dev. And we haven’t really talked about things since that first day. I want to make sure he knows this thing with him is a very big deal for me, and that I’m incredibly happy with him. I don’t ever want him to think this is just something we do when we’re stuck in quarantine.

After Simon and I eat, he makes a grocery list for me. “Get this stuff. I’ll make the food even if Baz says no to you being out on the roof tonight. But I’m sure he won’t… he’ll say yes when he hears you want to do something nice for his cousin. We’re just glad the two of you are happy.”

“Well, this is only Day 3, really, so there is still plenty of time for me to screw it up,” I say jokingly, but I’m only half-kidding. I am by no means secure in my relationship with Dev. This level of it is just so new… he could easily decide it’s not working and suggest we go back to how it was. 

I need to convince him that this is better. That this is the real deal.

“Right,” Simon says, wiping his mouth off with a napkin and standing up. “I’ll do the dishes later, okay? But first I’m going back to bed for a while.”

Dev:

Niall must have slipped downstairs while I was in the shower. He’s not here right now.

If you had told me a month ago that Niall and I would soon be in a romantic relationship, I never would have believed it. We’ve been friends (and Niall has been incorrigible) for so long. 

We went to grade school together. We lived in the same neighborhood. We watched TV and played Xbox games at each other’s houses.

I don’t know when I first started looking at him differently. Probably middle school. I have an early memory of watching him longingly across the cafeteria. He was talking to a group of girls...he had just run a hand through his hair and it was sticking up in places. He looked crazy but also so animated and alive (he has so much life in him). His jeans were rolled up and he was wearing green Converse sneakers (must have been 8th grade. That was the year he started getting into fashion). He was telling the girls a big story, talking with his hands and using all kinds of dramatic facial expressions. The girls were laughing. Finally one of them shooed him away. 

It was at that moment that he turned his head and looked over at me.

I looked back and felt my face go red. He cocked his head to one side and looked back, as if he didn’t understand. Then he smiled and walked over. I remember him saying “what” and pushing me back playfully with a nudge on my shoulder. He asked me if I liked any of those girls he was talking to. I shook my head “no” and he nodded approvingly and told me “good”; he intended to take one of them  to the school dance next week. I wondered which one of them he could possibly mean; he didn’t seem to pay particular attention to any one of them.

Once we were older we started going to parties together. He dated lots of girls in high school, and never the same one for very long. He dated so many that after a while he “used up” all his options at our school and started dating the girls from other schools. He and I made lots of road trips to the surrounding towns. 

I was painfully aware I had a crush on him, but after a while it was easier to box away the feelings. It hurt to see him chase after girls, but he didn’t know how I felt about him so it wasn’t like he was being deliberately cruel. And clearly these various girls didn’t matter to him, not really. It was like he was trying them out.

I knew, too, that in high school he wasn’t actually sleeping with any of them. Flirtation was just kind of a habit or reflex for him… almost a hobby. 

What really hurt was that once we started college it became guys, too, that he was flirting and hooking up with. I think I was in shock, the first time it happened. I saw Niall kiss a boy at a party. As I recall I had to find the bathroom immediately so I could throw up. I then proceeded to get obliterated and woke up the next morning with a helluva hangover. 

After that I realized this thing with Niall was a problem for me and I needed help. So I started going to the local LGBTQ+ office, where Baz was. I talked to him about it, I started seeing a counselor, and later that year I came out at school and to Niall. Niall was surprised and probably (I figured) mildly interested, but I wasn’t having it; there was no way I was going to let myself be trifled with by him. I made it clear there would be no casual fooling around. And he seemed to respect that and understand that anything else would certainly have complicated our friendship. 

His infatuations with guys stayed as brief as the ones he had with girls. I, on the other hand, started dating a guy from one of my classes and he was my boyfriend for over six months. 

Niall was a little weirded out by that. He liked to refer to Kyle as “Prince Charming”, but he was definitely being sarcastic. He was relatively quiet when Kyle was around, and asked me more than once “Does that guy ever smile?”

But I could never like Kyle properly, and eventually I realized the relationship wasn't fair to either of us. I ended it. Niall tried to ask me what happened a few times, what went wrong, but I wouldn’t discuss any of it with him.

Once I was single again I knew it was a matter of time before Niall hit on me in some small way. But I resolved ahead of time to laugh it off and not give in to the temptation, because my knowledge of him meant I couldn’t fully trust him. He liked playing the field and was so easily distracted by a blush or a giggle or a set of broad shoulders.

When he came to my room that night after the party, before quarantine, I was momentarily tempted to give in, but that quickly turned into anger. So I resisted and he left, apologizing later.

But when he came to me more recently as I folded towels, it really seemed different. I let myself be swept away. I let myself believe that maybe, maybe , we had a chance. 

It’s still too early to say if that was a brave move on my part or just hopeful stupidity.

As good as it’s been with us, I’ve had moments these past few days when I’ve doubted everything -- doubted if he truly feels the same as me, doubted whether his feelings will last.

I don’t want things to fall apart for us, but I want to be prepared mentally, in case that’s what happens. The hardest part is realizing that now we’ve crossed the line and I probably won’t be able to go back to just being his friend. I’m not up to enduring that level of hurt. 

It’s actually crossed my mind that if we break up I’ll probably end up moving away and transferring to another school.

Of course I would never say that to Niall. I don’t want to manipulate him into staying with me; I want it to be of his own free will, because he truly wants me.

Niall:

I almost feel guilty piling my breakfast dishes into the sink, but then Simon said he’d do them later. I decide to go see if Dev’s out of the shower yet.

He is. He’s dressed and brushing his teeth in front of the foggy mirror. I come up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist, planting a kiss on his neck. He bends over to spit out his toothpaste, and then, wiping his mouth off, asks, “So did Simon make you breakfast?”

“Yes, and get this: he’s making dinner tonight, too. For us .”

That doesn’t sound like terribly exciting news, since Simon usually cooks dinner a couple of times a week. But the way I say it gets Dev curious.

“What’s he making, steak?” Dev asks.

“It’s not the food that’s exciting, Dev, it’s the location. He said we could have dinner up on the roof tonight.” I decide to make a grand gesture. Taking his hand, I ask, “May I have the honor of you dining with me tonight? At Chez Simon & Baz?”

“What are you talking about, Niall?”

“We’re going to pretend like we’re having a restaurant date. Simon said he’d dress up like a waiter and everything. He’s going to help me talk Baz into playing violin for us.”

“Oh, wow,” Dev says, surprised. “That sounds…interesting. What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion; I just want a romantic evening with my man. Unless you… maybe don’t want that?” My confidence falters. I mean, I don’t want to assume anything. After all, I don’t think there’s anything compelling about me . I’m about as ordinary as they come.

Dev, on the other hand. 

Dev. He’s just about perfect, isn’t he? His eyes are light… somewhere between brown and hazel. And he’s got that shiny dark hair like Baz has, except his is a little lighter-colored and cut shorter (not so short these days, though, since we’ve been staying in). He’s slim and tall and elegant, and twice as posh as me… more than twice, actually, seeing as I’m not posh at all. He dresses well, he’s serious and capable. He doesn’t talk much, but when he does people always listen. 

When he talks it’s true and to the point. 

He’s brilliant and snarky, but he’s kind, and he never goes for the low blow. He’s classy, and he makes good judgements. Well, maybe not perfect judgements, since he’s gone and taken up with me. But if he’s reading my intentions, and not just my abilities and track record, he must know that I’m set on him and on being a good boyfriend. 

I haven’t proven to him or myself that that’s a thing I can do, yet, but I’m determined to try and give it my best shot.

“I would love to have dinner with you outside on the roof. Christ; I don’t even care if Simon cooks or not. I’d eat a bowl of cereal out on the roof, with you,” Dev states with quiet conviction.

Something in my stomach flutters when he says that. “Because you love me so much or because you miss being outdoors?”

Dev’s eyes glimmer a little. “Both, truthfully.”

I pull up to him, my hands on his face. He closes his eyes and I lean in to him. “Still love me, do you?”

“If you want me to say it you need to say it first,” Dev answers, almost coyly.

I reach for his hand and pull him over to the bed. “I’ll say it to you right here. Lay down.”

Dev lays back on the still unmade bed. I crawl in and lay down beside him. We lay on our sides and look into each other’s eyes, for a minute. “I love you,” I whisper. My voice cracks.

“I love you,” he whispers back. His eyes are so wide and serious. I don’t know why everything we say to each other right now seems fraught with extra emotion. I close my eyes and press forward till we’re kissing.

It feels so good. His lips against mine; my tongue in his mouth. Our breathing and his hands that grip my shirt. I try to slip a hand under his shirt but apparently it’s tucked in.

“Dev,” I say, groaning. “Dev, why’d you put all these clothes on?”

“So you can take them off.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I tug his shirt up from where he has it tucked and start unbuttoning. As each button opens I spread his shirt apart and smooth my hands and lips over the exposed skin. He feels so smooth and warm; he smells so familiar and right. When the last button is undone I push the open shirt down his shoulders and he shrugs out of it.

I undress him slowly, pants, socks, and underwear, till he’s naked and I’m fully dressed. For some reason I like the contrast. With the door shut and locked and my eyes raking over him hungrily, I can pretend he’s my own special little trinket, my secret, my bedroom boy. (But of course he’s more than that to me… so much more). I’m especially glad to take in the sight of his erect cock. 

Lord knows I despaired of ever getting to see that . But there it is, ready and at my disposal. I slide a trembling hand over it, and he moans.

“Dev,” I say, “Now I get it. Now I know why nobody else ever worked.”

“What do you mean, Niall?” he asks as I stroke him up and down, opening the eyes that had just fluttered shut in sensual delight. (Suppose I shouldn’t be talking so much).

“I don’t know. Silly, really. I was just thinking about how no one else I ever dated measured up to you. Ever made me feel this good, or this wanted. I suppose you’ve spoiled me for everyone else now. Don’t know what I’ll ever do if you dump me. Might as well become a monk and live on a mountain top.”

He reaches down and grabs my hand, which has been stroking his cock up and down this whole time. “Wait; stop. You’re distracting me. You’re saying something really good and I don’t want to miss it.”

I take my hand off him and ask, in disbelief, “You prefer hearing me talk? To that ?”

“Depends what you’re saying.”

“So if it has to do about how much I love you compared with every other human I have ever encountered, and therefore I will only ever be content with you now, for the rest of my life... you’d rather hear that than me get you off?” 

“I just want you to do things in the proper order. Tell me these things and then start getting me off. I guarantee it will make me go nuclear.” He’s kissing me all over my face and neck, his arms wrapped around me, his eyes bright and sparkling. God, he’s handsome.

“What else do you like to hear me say?”

“I like to hear anything you have to say that’s honest and from the heart. Don’t exaggerate or make stuff up just to make me happy, Niall. Please only tell me true things.”

“Well, all that’s true because…because look at you. You’re perfect and you’re everything I want and I don’t want to go through life without you. I’d be so damn lonely without you. I don’t know how it got like this between us so fast,” I say, bewildered. “I mean, I guess it wasn’t fast. We’ve known each other a long time. But once the kissing started...everything changed, you know?”

“I know. I’m feeling it, too. I’m scared, actually. What if this isn’t what I think it is, what if it’s mostly one-sided and it turns out you’re always this romantic when you have people alone in a bedroom.”

That makes me laugh out loud. “Christ, you think I’ve been like this with anyone else? Absolutely not. I might have been handsy with some but I never said stuff like this. No, this is how I am with you, Dev, only you.”

Dev:

I can’t believe these wonderful things he’s saying to me. It’s like someone handed him a list of all the things I’m worried about and want to hear explained, and he’s addressing each concern.

He seems to be worried about those same things.

I make him stop fondling me by holding his hands between my own. I look into his eyes and don’t see any lies. His eyes shine back at me...if I were writing a romance novel I’d say he looks “ardent.”

For me. He’s ardent for me.

I let go of him long enough to run a hand over his cheek and through the hair just above his ears. Now that it’s getting longer I see how wavy and thick it is. I tuck some behind his ear.

“I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” I chide him, gently. I help him undress and then we both slip under the blankets. I stop trying to control his hands and (happily) he goes right back to my cock.

                    *********************

Simon:

When I told Baz about the dinner plans, he grumped a little about having to loan out the roof already, after our using it only just once, but then he agreed Niall’s idea of creating a dinner date experience for Dev is cute. When I mentioned the violin idea he actually seemed to like that part quite a bit; he has to practice anyway, and this would be an interesting challenge to play a bunch of songs without using sheet music. (He might have to improvise and make things up as he goes a little).

I spend a couple of hours making a killer sauce for the spaghetti and prepping everything so that the actual cooking goes fast and easily. I’ll have to “seat” Dev and Niall, then come downstairs and put my apron on, finish the food up, take the apron off, and transform back into the waiter who serves them.

It’s been a lot of stifled creativity, being in quarantine, so I’m not surprised when Baz starts getting into planning all the little details of their restaurant experience. He brings up additional candles and lighting from our bedroom, puts a tablecloth on the table, and prepares a fruit and cheese appetizer. He has us both dress in clothes of his-- white dress shirts with black bow ties and black dress pants. When we’re dressed we stand in front of the mirror and admire how we look. “Not bad,” I say, smiling.

“Have you seen your ass in those pants? You look spectacular,” Baz informs me.

“Oh really?” I ask, looking over my shoulder and shrugging. “Say, I have an idea. Why don’t we use some of your nice resume paper to make a menu sheet for tonight’s offerings? Something I can hand to them as I seat them.”

“That would be easy enough. I’ll use a fancy font of some sort.”

Dev:

Niall insisted we dress up for tonight: suits. It feels kind of strange to be wearing ties and shoes and all that in our own house, but it also helps create the feeling like we’re going somewhere; we’re going on a date. 

He looks fabulous. His suit is dark green, but it brings out the green of his eyes and his red hair looks absolutely ravishing against it. There’s a flush on his upper cheekbones and because he’s wearing shoes he looks taller than I’m used to seeing. Long and lean.

He whistles when he sees me. “Look at you, Dev. You’re perfect.”

It makes me blush because I know he’s not just saying that. He really does like the way that I look. There might as well be stars in his eyes.

He extends his arms to me. “Shall we, Mr. Grimm?”

I take his arm and smile into his eyes. “Let’s.” 

We walk across the apartment like that, to the already-lowered trapdoor. Niall motions for me to go first.

The narrow stairway opens up into fresh air and the skyline of the city. Softly glowing candles, lanterns, and lamps help create the mood. When they see us, Baz gets up and starts playing something soft and silky on his violin. Simon the waiter, bow tie and all, walks over briskly to greet us.

“Good evening, sirs,” he says, bowing slightly, a crisp linen towel draped over his arm. “Will you be joining us for dinner this evening?”

“Yes, please,” says Niall. “A table for two.”

“But of course,” Simon says, as poshly as he can. “Right this way, please.”

Then he makes a big show of guiding us through the “rooms” of the roof. He walks us through the seating area, past the futon bed (saying, humorously, “Oh, pardon me for showing you that, sirs. Please don’t get any funny ideas. Ahem”), to the table dressed with a clean white cloth. He pulls out Dev’s chair for him and seats him first. I seat myself. Simon lights the candle in the middle of the table and hands us two menus.

“Our special for the evening is an elegant Italian dinner. Could I interest you gentlemen in a glass of wine while you decide?”

“Yes. Could we have a white zinfandel, please?”

“Of course.” Then he bows and walks off. 

Meanwhile, Baz steps a little closer, so he is about ten feet away from our table. He’s playing his violin as softly and unobtrusively as possible.

I reach out across the table and Dev puts his hands in mine. He smiles softly at me. 

“This was a great idea,” he whispers. “Thank you for doing it.”

“You deserve so much more. If this quarantine ever ends I’m taking you everywhere .”

“Where shall we go first?”

“Well, how about we sail down the Amazon River?”

“Too many mosquitoes. Too many ways to die. Piranhas, and all that.”

“Okay, trip to Egypt, then?”

“That sounds hot. Maybe somewhere more temperate.”

“How about a trip to Europe? Maybe start with England?”

“Yes. Let’s do that .”

Simon’s back with our wine. He lets me sample a small taste of the bottle to see if what he’s brought me is adequate. I make a show of sniffing it and swirling the first taste around in my mouth, just as I’ve seen my dad do countless times.

I nod my approval with what I taste. Simon pours our glasses.

“Are you ready to order?”

“Dev,” I say, “Do you know what you want?”

“Well, I believe I’ll take...the spaghetti.”

“Excellent choice, sir,” Simon interjects, before looking at me. “And you, sir?”

I make a show of thinking it over, furrowing my brow as I pour over the one page, mostly blank menu. “I believe I’ll take…the spaghetti.”

“Excellent choice, sir.” Simon gathers the menus up from us before making haste down the stairs.

We sip our wine and talk. After a while I push my chair out a bit and stand. “May I have this dance?”

Dev puts his hand in mine and stands up. “You may,” he murmurs. He puts a hand on my shoulder as I put one on his waist. Our other hands are raised and together. Like that, we begin swaying and moving around the room to the sound of Baz’s violin.

He rests his cheek against my cheek. If it weren’t for Baz being in the room, I’d probably press our hips together...but Dev wouldn’t want an audience. I hear him murmur something soft into my ear.

“What’s that?” I ask. It was so soft I couldn’t hear him. When he doesn’t answer, I pull away to look at him.

“I said I don’t want this to end.”

“The dance?”

“No,” he admits. “The quarantine.”

I think I know what he’s getting at. I squeeze his hand and ask softly, “Now why would you say something silly like that?”

“You know why.”

“Say it.”

He stops dancing but I don’t let him go; I won’t.

“Because when quarantine’s over we go back out into the world. And there’s all these other people there.”

“So?”

“Some of those people are attractive.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Someday we’re going to have a spat. Or you’re going to get bored. Or a really good opportunity is going to come along.”

“Dev, how daft do you think I am?”

“I’m just trying to be realistic, here.”

“You’re not a passing fancy for me, Dev. I’ve had those; this with you is different.”

“How do you know?” Dev asks. Well now he’s just being stubborn.

“Because I’ve never committed to anyone, before you. I never made promises to anyone else. Every single time, I knew what it was: nothing. A romp. No one’s ever come close to what we have, Dev. That has never been confused in my mind.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because it couldn’t be more different. I love you.”

He puts his head down. He still doesn’t let himself believe me, and it’s frustrating. For the first time in my life I start to regret my past. I’ve never hurt anyone; I haven’t been deceitful. I never led anyone to believe it was more than what it was.

But I enjoyed it. I enjoyed scanning the room at a party until my eyes snagged with someone else’s eyes. I enjoyed the slow maneuvering closer; the first halting words. The first kiss. Discreet touches…maybe the small of her back? Maybe his hand?

There are dozens and dozens of those first encounters in my memory.

And most of them are in Dev’s memory, too. Because he was there at those parties with me.

I’ve never considered the enormity of that until this moment.

I actually start getting a feeling in the back of my throat like something is building. A panic attack?

But before I can say more, Simon is climbing back upstairs with our salads and bread.

“Come on,” I say, tugging on Dev to come back to our table. “Simon’s here.”

We go back and sit. Simon withdraws back by Baz. “The musician is taking a ten minute break!” He calls from across the room. Then he and Baz duck behind a particularly tall potted plant.

I try to snort but it comes out wrong. I pick up my fork and start picking at my salad. I’m so upset I’m not even sure I can eat right now.

“I’m sorry, Niall,” Dev whispers.

Is he breaking up with me?

I don’t know what to say. I can’t say a thing.

“It’s just that I get so insecure...”

Hold up. That sounds like the kind of thing someone might say when they’re trying to work stuff out. Maybe he’s not breaking up with me.

I go from crushed to hopeful in five seconds.

“Dev, you never have to worry about my flirting again.” I realize that’s a strong statement and I should clarify that point. “I mean, I’m not saying I’m never going to flirt again. I might. Old habits die hard. But it’s never going to lead away from you.”

“Niall, we’ve only been together three days like this, so this conversation…I have no right to even be having this conversation with you.”

“Yes you do,” I say quickly.

“I need you to assure me that all this is real and that I can trust you.”

“How can I earn your trust, Dev?”

“That will come over time, when I see for myself how you are,” he says. “But it may help things move along faster if you made me a few promises.”

“Like what?”

He looks sheepish. “Go ahead,” I say. “Tell me.”

“Promise me you’ll be faithful. Or at least tell me when it changes and you find you can’t. Don’t fool with me, Dev.”

“I won’t. I promise I won’t.”

“What will you do if someone gives you their phone number?”

“Throw it away.”

“And…?”

“Avoid future conversation with that person?”

“And…?”

Oh Christ; what’s the answer?

 “Avoid conversation with friends of that person?” I venture.

He looks at me like I’m daft. “No… tell me about it. Don’t hide that kind of thing from me. I want to be in the know at all times. No intrigues.”

“Okay, I promise.”

We’re startled when Simon clears his throat. He’s looking at our untouched salad plates accusingly. “Look, I’m going to bring your main dish out, alright? Baz and I are getting kind of tired of standing by and…you know. We’re going to hit the hay.”

I’m not annoyed they couldn’t maintain interest in the “restaurant” long enough for us to finish dinner. I want Dev alone.

“Yes, bring us the rest of the food and you’re dismissed.”

“So kind,” Baz says drily, in the background.

After Simon comes back with two steaming plates of pasta and sauce, he and Baz make their exit. We’re alone.

“Look, Dev… I get it. I really do. You saw me date around quite a bit. But I need to know whether someday you will be able to let that go. I need to know I’m trusted. It’s not like I lied or deceived or broke promises, is it? I never made romantic promises before you. I deserve trust as much as anyone does.”

He pauses. “You’re right. You do.”

“Will you make me some promises?”

“Alright. Like what?”

I’m quiet as I hastily put together my thoughts. “Give me a chance. Don’t always think the worst of me.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

“Don’t hold secret grudges. If you think I’m doing something wrong, give me a chance to work on it. Don’t just dump me out of nowhere.”

“Okay. That’s fair. Anything else?”

“Tell me the truth. Did you ever have sex with Kyle?”

He pauses. “We dated six months.”

“So? You could have been holding him at bay.”

“Niall. We had sex, yes.”

This makes me feel quite jealous, actually. Somehow his being serious with one person for a long period of time is worse than my trifling with many people for short periods of time. 

But that's just my jealousy talking...my own personal issue. I can’t hold any of that against Dev. It’s my own damn fault for not realizing my feelings sooner.

“Sorry I’m a dick who made you come out and say it, Dev.” I am sorry. “But never mind. We have each other now, right? And I’m the luckiest guy in the world. I’m never letting you go.”

“He and I never loved each other…it never got that far. It was always you, Niall. I only ever loved you.”

I clear my throat and swallow. I reach for his hand and squeeze it.

“Simon’s going to kill us if we don’t eat this spaghetti.”

                      ********

Simon:

We knew things were getting serious in their discussion up there… as soon as I realized it wasn’t going to be a light-hearted evening I pulled Baz behind a plant and whispered, “We need to get them their food and make ourselves scarce.”

Once we left the roof, we put a movie in and sat on the couch. About an hour later, they descended quietly.

“Thanks for everything, guys,” Niall said.

“You had a good time, then?”

“Oh yes,” Dev answers, looking at Niall. Niall looks back at him in a way that says he speaks for them both.

“Good, good. G’night, then.”

“Good night.”