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As always, it is three in the morning when Isak decides to change his life.
He is logical; therefore, he understands that if he were content with his life, he’d be sleeping like his roommates are right now. To achieve happiness, he must alter a variable in his formula.
He’s tried exercise, signing up for classes that had him spinning, sculpting, and shaping, but ultimately abandoning them for FIFA tournaments and Seinfeld marathons. Then there was cooking, but Jonas took the smoke detector off the wall the fifth time Isak set it off, so that became too risky. And of course, vlogging, a particularly embarrassing failure when Isak watched hours of footage only to realize there was absolutely nothing interesting about his life.
Tonight, he starts by cleaning his room: clear space, full brain, can’t lose, or something to that effect. Magnus’s girlfriend, Vilde, got him on throwing out things that don’t bring him joy, which backfired on her when Magnus threw out his entire wardrobe save for t-shirts with holes under the armpits and jeans that don’t quite reach his ankles. Isak considers that approach, but then remembers that nothing brings him joy and that’s why he’s fucking doing this in the first place. Instead, he uses his tried and true approach to cleaning: kicking various piles of shit under his bed. He only stops when his toes make contact with something that does not belong to him.
It’s a single black mitten, and Isak instantly remembers the hand that wore it. Long, playful, teasing fingers; warmth that became heat, heat that became warmth; a steadiness that hands are usually too anxious to hold in a one-night stand.
And surely, that hand would be cold now? It’s December in a winter that’s started early, freezing in a way that cuts right through your skin. Leaving someone mitten-less would be cruel, so maybe that’s how Isak changes his life. Become a Good Samaritan, track this guy down, return the warmth he gave to Isak a couple of weeks ago.
It’s three in fucking morning, a time when Isak’s never understood his real motivations.
---
“Why are you wearing all that? It’s not even that cold.”
Isak was irritated with his one-night stand the moment he decided to have one, especially because it wasn’t as much his decision as it was his roommates’. After Mahdi declared that he’d become annoying as fuck, Magnus decided he needed to get laid, and Jonas took control of his unused Grindr account. “There,” Jonas said after a short enough time to make Isak terrified of what he’d said. “He’ll be over in an hour. We’ll clear out.”
They did, and Isak kicked his phone under his bed because it wasn’t bringing him joy.
His irritation only strengthened when the guy arrived, bundled up for a fucking blizzard with pink cheeks, because he looked cute, and cute was not what Isak was supposed to want that night.
“Already want me to take my clothes off?” the guy asked, eyebrows raised. Isak’s cheeks turned as pink as his. “I have to say, I wasn’t expecting you to be so bold from your message.”
“I didn’t write that.”
The guy laughed, deep and full. “Yeah, I know. Something from your friend, saying you’d been a buzzkill and he was over it? And because I’m hot, could I please hook-up with you to make you bearable to be around again?”
Isak was going to fucking kill Jonas.
“You really didn’t check me out before I came over?” the guy continued. Isak shook his head. “Wow. I could be a murderer.”
“Fucking stupid way to murder someone. There’s a record that you’re the last person I talked to.”
“I’m not sure you need to be brilliant to be a murderer.” He took his mittens off, and Isak stared at his hands a few seconds too long. “You won’t even know my name then. I’m Even.”
“Isak.”
Even continued to unbundle, and Isak continued to watch. He took off his scarf, revealing a long neck, then his beanie, unveiling hair he’d clearly spent a lot of time on. Maybe he was something more than cute.
“Do you want a beer or something?” Isak asked, unsure of what to do next.
“Sure, beer would be nice.”
Isak got Even a beer, then invited Even to sit with him at the kitchen table. He did not know much about one-night stands, but was confident he was doing it wrong.
“Why’d you come?” Isak asked.
“Hm?”
“Based on that message, why the fuck would you want to spend the night with someone whose best friend thinks he isn’t ‘bearable to be around?’”
Even nodded, tapping his beer against the table, watching his own movements. Eventually, he looked up at Isak and smiled. “Because I’m not bearable to be around, either.”
---
“Bro, he Cinderella’d you.”
“He what?”
Isak looks around the living room at his roommates, expecting Jonas and Mahdi to roll their eyes like they usually do at Magnus. Instead, Jonas nods as Mahdi says, “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard of that.”
Magnus, practically giddy with encouragement he never gets from his friends, continues his theory. “Yeah! They’ll like, leave one thing behind to see if you care enough to reach out to them. Think about it: who forgets one mitten? He wants to see you again.”
“Then why the fuck wouldn’t he just message me on Grindr?”
“Because it’s not romantic, Isak!”
At Isak’s eye roll, Jonas takes over from Magnus.
“The way I see it, there are two options,” Jonas says. “One, he’s playing you a bit, trying to seem chill about the whole thing. He wants you to message him so he keeps the power.”
Isak doesn’t like that one. “What’s option two?”
“He’s insecure, not sure if you’re interested and too scared to take the risk. Either way, he’s into you.”
“I just want to give him his mitten back."
“Dude, that thing is like 50 krone,” Mahdi says. “If it’s just about the mitten, he’ll buy another one.”
“No, but like…morally. I need to give it back to him, otherwise I basically stole it.”
“You steal my beer all the time and now you care about morals?” Jonas says. “It’s ok if just you want to see him again.”
It’s just not what they promised each other.
---
Isak did not hook-up with Even, at least not in the way he was meant to that night. They touched, and they kissed, and they held each other, they did all that, but not before they talked.
They relocated from the kitchen table to the couch, talking about shit all. Their favourite beers. Isak’s roommates, then that Even still lived with his parents. The café Even worked at, which Isak thought sold overpriced liquid sugar as coffee.
“You’d like it if I made it for you,” Even said. “I have some tricks.”
“Do you actually put coffee in it?”
“Just some spices. Nutmeg, cinnamon. It’s fall in a cup.”
“What if I just want coffee in my cup?”
Even laughed. “You’re no fun.”
“No, I come as advertised. Unbearable.”
“I don’t see that.”
“I don’t see that in you, either.”
“Yeah, well,” Even said, stretching himself out so he was slouching. “That’s the nice thing about tonight, isn’t it? We can be whoever we want to each other, see whatever we want in each other. And we never have to see the rest.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re not going to see each other again, right?”
Leading question. Isak had to nod, but he could disagree with the rest. “But doesn’t that mean we can be more honest with each other? Like, we could tell each other anything and none of it will fucking matter.”
Even furrowed his eyebrows. “Do you want that?”
“I guess?” Isak said. He never really talked to anyone about shit, and he figured this was his best chance to experiment with that variable in his formula.
“Go on, then.”
“I don’t really know what I should say.”
“Tell me whatever you can’t tell anyone else.”
Isak took a moment to look at Even, to recognize and trust the kindness in his eyes.
“I’ve never been happy. Like, ever.”
Even reached over and took Isak’s hand, running his thumb along the back of it. That was the first time Isak felt his warmth. “I’m sorry.”
“I kind of thought coming out in high school would change things, like I’d suddenly be happy because I was finally my true self. I mean, that’s what happens in every fucking movie. And I don’t know, things were better, but maybe my true self’s just an asshole. Maybe this is how I’m meant to feel.”
Even did not tell Isak that he deserved happiness, that he wasn’t an asshole, that things would get better. And Isak was grateful for that, because the whole point of the night had become not to lie to each other.
He did, however, pull Isak towards him to kiss his head, which Isak was also grateful for.
“I can’t trust my own happiness,” Even said. “Or that’s what it feels like, anyway. I’m bipolar, so I basically cycle through these manic and depressive periods. If I’m really excited about something, or if I have a lot of energy, people assume I’m manic. If I’m quiet or even just relaxed, they assumed I’m depressed. But what’s messed up is sometimes they’re right, and I don’t even know. How am I ever supposed to believe what I feel?”
“I mean,” Isak said. “Even if you are manic or depressed, the feelings are still real, right? So what does it matter?”
Even smiled. “That’s how I try to look at it too, but sometimes I feel like a list of symptoms and not a person.”
“I’m sorry.”
They were sorry for each other, but Isak felt like they were more than that too. He kissed Even then, sweet and simple, on the lips, and Even kissed him back.
As they did some more, Isak started to understand the power of Even’s hands. Running through his hair, they were playful, and drumming against his waistband, they were teasing. The heat came when Even trailed his fingers down Isak’s neck, settling into warmth whenever he rested his hand on Isak’s body. And when Even held Isak still to kiss him, just to keep Isak there with him, Isak felt grounded. Like this night could be reality after all.
When they made it to Isak’s bed, Even whispered, “I need to leave before you wake up in the morning. Otherwise, I’ll be tempted to stay.”
Isak wanted to tell him to stay. Instead, he accepted Even’s kiss on his cheek and said, “Ok.”
---
Isak stares at the mitten, then his phone, then the mitten, then his phone again.
His roommates are all staring at him.
“I can’t let him be cold,” Isak says.
“If you want to pretend that’s what this is about,” Jonas says. “I don’t fucking care anymore. Just message him."
“What should I say?”
“Oh, holy fuck, I’ve got it!” Magnus says. “Create a fake account, right? Say that you’re Prince Charming, looking to find someone whose hand will fit into this mitten.”
“Don’t do that,” Mahdi says. “Tell him to stop playing games and come over.”
“No, just tell him you have his mitten,” Jonas says. “And go from there.”
Isak always chooses Jonas’s advice. Even’s reply comes within a minute. Awesome. Can I pick it up now?
Isak looks up from his phone at his friends’ expectant faces and realizes his mistake.
“You guys need to leave.”
---
Isak hands Even his mitten in the doorway.
“Sorry if you were cold,” he says. “I just found it.”
“I had a spare pair,” Even says, waving his mitten-covered hands.
“Oh. Good.” Isak blushes: why the fuck did he make such a big deal about this? “Sorry you had to see me again.”
“I’m not.”
“No?”
“No. I….” Even’s red now, and it’s not just from the cold. “I have this friend Mikael, and he does this thing where if he likes someone, he’ll leave something at their place—”
“He Cinderella’s them?”
“Oh, fuck. You knowing about this makes it a million times more embarrassing for me.”
“Is that seriously what you did?”
“That is seriously what I did.”
Isak is mostly dumbfounded that Magnus was right about something.
“Are you mad?” Even asks.
“No, it’s just—it’s not fucking efficient, is it?” Isak says. “You could’ve stayed in the morning. Or messaged me.”
“Complete honesty?”
Isak nods because that’s the other thing they’ve promised each other.
“I didn’t know if I want to see you again—or, I knew I wanted to, but I didn’t know if it was a good idea. So, I left it up to fate. I usually trust that more than myself.”
“Can you trust yourself next time so we don’t have to wait weeks between seeing each other?"
Even laughs. “I can try.”
They kiss their way into the apartment, more aggressive this time, Even throwing his scarf to the floor. And if Even’s not totally sold on trusting himself, Isak’s not taking any chances.
“Remember to forget that when you leave.”