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It probably started that first time Even showed him the roof of their apartment building. Started really small, back then, just a little voice in the back of his head that said “ he’s- ” and then he shut it the fuck up, because he and Even live together, and he didn’t want to make it uncomfortable.
It was easy to just push it away, though. He’s pretty good at deflecting, and the view from the rooftop could easily explain away the fact that his breath had vanished. A few minutes later, it was even easier to explain it away, because as Even told him, there was no smoke alarms up there, and they could light up that joint that Even had.
Isak spends a lot of evenings up there now, with or without Even. Watching the sunset is a way of reminding himself that if the world is going to sleep, he should too, and maybe it doesn’t actually help him fall asleep, but at least he’s trying something.
It’s, actually, more difficult when Even joins him. Not in a bad way, it’s just that they tend to talk for hours, way past when either of them should be awake. Even will bring a blanket because somehow he predicts it, and they shield themselves from the cold night by sitting closer than normal people do.
Isak still tries to push his feelings onto the view over Oslo, the streaks of pink and orange in the sky, the streetlights flickering through the trees, the stars, when they come out.
It works, until Even looks at him like that .
*
It probably started when Magnus first introduced him to Isak, the guy who’d agreed to house/cat/plant-sit for Even while he was away.
It was actually kind of a weird situation. Magnus was going to house sit for him, but then something came up and he asked if Even would mind if he asked a friend to do it instead - and despite just about everything about Magnus, Even does trust his judgement at the end of it all, so he agreed.
(He found out when he returned from his holiday that Isak had just finished his first year at uni, so he had to move out of his accommodation, and he would “do anything to avoid having to move back in with his parents.” Magnus had helped him avoid it for a week longer - and then Even helped him avoid it even more, because he’s been looking for someone to take the spare room anyway, and Isak managed not to burn the place down, and likes his cat, Pippa, too. Isak’s as good a flatmate as he’s ever going to get.)
Yeah, it probably started when he saw the expression on Isak’s face when he first met Pippa, how he crouched down to her where she was rubbing around his legs and extended his hand towards her, waiting for her to push her nose against it.
But he kind of forgot that it might be an issue if they’re going to live with each other. Oops.
He’s not very good at not acting on feelings, but as he gets to know Isak, he finds that he’s one of the most oblivious and stubborn people that Even has ever met. Even acts on his feelings in subtle ways, makes Isak breakfast, leans his head on him when they watch movies, things like that, and Isak doesn’t notice a thing.
It works, until they share a blanket on the rooftop.
*
Isak tries to rationalise it. This is Even, here. He’d probably look at a fly like that if it managed to find a window and get back outside. Just from sheer pride that the fly was so fucking smart.
But it’s getting dark, and thoughts are never rational at this time. Sometimes he even lets himself describe the sunset as beautiful when it’s this late.
(Sometimes, he might describe Even like that, too.)
It’s summer, but it isn’t warm. Even brought the blanket out for them to share again, and Isak’s shoulder presses against him while he does everything in his power to stop himself turning to look at Even, stop himself seeing what damn expression he has on his face.
Living with him for the last ten months - it’s actually been great. And they both agreed that they’d be happy with it for another year, too. Sure, there are things that frustrate both of them, but they get on so easily that they forgive easily too.
Isak also falls pretty easily. He’s a really clumsy fucking person, and Even is just in the way.
*
Even has never thought of it as rational, but he has thought of it. A lot.
Isak, warm against his side, sighing contentedly when Even’s arm wraps around him with the blanket and staring pointedly forward at the darkening sky. Relaxing in infintesimal amounts, slowly, slowly, torturously slowly. Leaning against Even with a barely-there smile, his hair teased by the wind, his eyes half shut.
Isak’s not looking at him anyway, so Even just lets himself watch. Like he said, he’s not good at not acting on his feelings. Hes not good at being subtle, really, but Isak still doesn’t seem to notice.
They make light conversation, and it’s just like it always is. Just as simple, just as easy, just as sweet.
Just like the way Even fell in love with him.
*
It’s different, though, this time. Maybe it’s because of the late hour, the light evenings of summer, the early sunrise. They’re still talking when it creeps up behind them, and Isak glances back to see the sky already waking.
It’s not going to be a good night to fall asleep. And, as he turns back to facing forward, his eyes pass over Even.
He’s still looking at Isak like that. And Isak’s tired. He can’t help it.
*
It’s different this time.
Isak looks back.
*
“What time is it?” Even asks after he flicks his eyes to the side, to catch a glimpse of the sunrise. His voice is low, rough, tired.
Isak likes it.
“Late,” he shrugs, wishing that he had a better answer, but knowing that he won’t be able to look away long enough to get one. “Or early. I don’t know.”
Isak likes Even’s smile, too. It’s beautiful, especially up close like this.
“Don’t you usually watch the sunset to help you sleep?”
Isak nods. “Nothing like a sunrise to help you wake up, though.”
He wouldn’t really describe this as waking up. With the proximity to Even, the arm still round his shoulders that he leans his head on, he feels more like he’s dreaming.
“Do you have work tomorrow?” Even asks, and there’s tired concern drifting through to his voice
Isak shakes his head. “Do you?”
Even shakes his head too.
“We can sleep in, then.”
“Yeah,” Even says softly. “Not yet, though. I don’t want to go inside just yet.”
“No?” Isak doesn’t rationalise his hopefulness.
“No. It’s nice out here. With you.”
“It is nice,” Isak agrees. “With you, too.”
Even’s smile grows, and Isak’s love grows with it.
His urge to say something grows with it, too, because it’s late, or it’s early, and he’s past rational thought. Past trying to persuade himself that Even looks at everyone like that.
It’s been long enough now that Isak knows he doesn’t, not even the best friends he met, the ones that have known Even since he was the smallest kid in first grade.
This is the look Even gives to Isak, and only Isak. It’s probably similar to the one Isak gives Even when he forgets to guard it.
They live together. Maybe it could cause problems, but Isak is building himself up enough now that he knows they can work it out. He knows Even, sometimes it feels like he’s known Even longer than those best friends have.
He doesn’t really know what to say, but he reaches out, under the tangle of the blanket, shifts his body and frees his hand so that he can place it at the top of Even’s chest, the bottom of his neck. He can feel Even’s heartbeat, steady and wild all at once, and feels him swallow under his fingers.
He doesn’t press down in the slightest, but Even’s breath hitches anyway.
“Isak,” he says, loud against the quiet night but almost silent against the noise of Isak’s own heartbeat and all his thoughts.
“Hi,” Isak says with a gentle smile. “I - I, uh.”
He loses, then, all the thoughts, all the words, all the courage. They drop away from him, but Even picks them up.
His arm around Isak’s shoulders tightens, moves a little so he can pull Isak in close, and Isak does nothing to fight it, but accepts his defeat with a kiss.
He falls into Even, and Even catches him.