Work Text:
december
Isak had just finally settled into his couch, ready to spend the night in with a Grandiosa and a couple beers, when he hears five knocks on his door.
He lets out a pathetic groan and throws his head back, giving himself a moment to be annoyed at whoever decided to disrupt his time to decompress. It had been an abnormally busy day at the hospital - seven (seven!!) surgeries Isak had to perform and observe - and his feet were killing him. He couldn’t even be bothered to change into his regular clothes before leaving the hospital, and on the tram, he actually sat next to another person when he saw that there were only a few seats left. If Isak sensed the stranger giving him a dirty look, he did nothing to acknowledge it.
As soon as he got home, all he managed to do was take off his shoes and coat, grab some drinks from his refrigerator, and throw a frozen pizza in the oven without even waiting for it to preheat before promptly falling down onto his very comfortable couch. It was the only piece of furniture he wisely invested in.
Of course, it occurred to him how unsanitary wearing his dirty scrubs at home was; he could already picture Sana yelling at him if she saw him lounging carelessly like that in the living room (which wouldn’t be the first time), but fuck, if he even tries to move his limbs more than what was necessary, he might actually cry.
Isak would have gladly ignored the knocking on his door (after all, he wasn’t expecting anyone that night, and stranger danger, right?) if a second set of knocks hadn’t echoed throughout his apartment, along with a tiny voice exclaiming, “Knock knock!”
Isak forced himself to get up, and - holy fuck did his feet not like that - dragged himself to the front door.
As soon as he opened it, his eyes went straight to the little blonde girl in an Elsa costume, who began speaking right away.
“Halla! I’m Julie and I’m nine years old,” She greets enthusiastically. “My brother and I just made Christmas cookies, but we made too many. Well, Even said it was too many. I wouldn’t be sad if I had to eat all the cookies.”
Isak chuckles.
“Anyways, would you like some?” She finishes, holding out a plate of freshly baked Christmas tree-shaped cookies, completed with red and green icing.
Isak crouches down so that he was level with her. “It’s so nice to meet you, Julie! And yes, I’d love to take these cookies, they smell delicious.”
She hands the plate to Isak. “They taste delicious, too! My brother puts cardamom in them, he says that it’s the secret ingredient.”
“Hey! You just gave the secret ingredient away!” The guy cries out. Julie responds with a gentle “Oops,” an impish grin on her face.
The nine year old’s presence had been so overwhelming that Isak didn’t have the chance to look at the guy next to her until now. From where Isak was crouched down, his eyes had to climb up a set of incredibly long legs and -
Wow.
Isak stands up straight.
“This is my brother, Even. He’s twenty-six. He is very old,” Julie exaggerates. Even gives a newly-flustered Isak a bright smile.
“Hei, I moved into the apartment across from yours last week. Sorry I haven’t had the chance to properly introduce myself and my obnoxious little sister until now.” He says, ruffling Julie’s hair, to which she responds with a slap to her brother’s wrist.
Even was cute. Really fucking cute. And if any of Isak’s friends had been present, they would be teasing him about his new neighbor. He was only wearing a simple outfit - white shirt with a maroon hoodie over it and khaki pants, but he made it look so good. His shoulders were just the perfect amount of broad, hands (which Isak suspected were large) stuffed into his pants pockets, and he was so, so tall - taller than Isak, which was pretty fucking impressive, too. It’s actually embarrassing how attractive Isak found him, with his swoopy blond hair and crystal blue eyes. Oh, and his lips -
“But it’s nice to finally meet you! Uh…” Even trails.
“Isak! Isak Valtersen,” Isak almost forgets to answer, too busy daydreaming about the marvel standing in front of him. He wants to bury himself in a hole right now, because suddenly Even is chuckling at his choked out answer and Isak wouldn’t be surprised if he could tell just how much he’s drooling over him. (Isak tells himself he’s actually drooling because of the cookies.)
“Hi Isak! How old are you?” Julie questions.
“I’m twenty-four years old, basically ancient,” Isak says for Julie’s entertainment before he looks back up at Even. “And don’t worry about it. That probably makes me a bad neighbor because I honestly haven’t noticed. The holidays just tend to be extra busy at the hospital and I’m barely home and awake at the same time.”
Even raises his eyebrows. “You’re a doctor?”
“I’m a surgeon,” Isak corrects but nods nonetheless, waving his hands at the scrubs he was wearing. “I just started my residency, but yeah, I work at the Oslo University Hospital.”
Even hums in acknowledgement, an impressed look on his face that makes Isak blush.
“That’s so cool!” Julie screeches. “Do you give out stickers?”
Isak was about to tell her that he wasn’t the kind of doctor she went to see for a casual check up when he remembers that Magnus, a pediatrician and a friend, gave him a few stickers when they were chatting by the reception desk at the end of that day. (Come on, you had seven surgeries today. You deserve some stickers!) He uses his free hand to take them out of his pocket. (See? Not changing out of his scrubs has its perks.)
“Here you go,” He bends down once more and hands Julie the (funnily enough) Frozen stickers. “Thank you for the cookies, I can’t wait to eat them!” Isak smiles at her, then at Even.
Julie jumps up and down at the gift, then wraps her tiny arms around Isak’s leg. “Thank you Isak! I love Frozen!”
“Anytime,” Isak melts at how adorable she was. “Merry Christmas, Julie. You really made my day,” Isak stands up straight one last time. “Merry Christmas to you too, Even.”
“Merry Christmas, Isak.” He gives him another smile before walking the few steps back to his apartment, ushering his sister into the flat first. He looks back at Isak for the final time. “I’ll see you around.” He says before closing his door, voice smooth and deep and Isak tries not to dwell on the way he said his name.
Isak goes back inside his apartment with a smile on his face, aching feet ignored, the cookies devoured in one sitting.
january
Isak was digging into his pockets for his keys when he heard crying from across the hall.
By no means did he mean to snoop, just wanted to make sure everything was fine, when he looked through the crack of Even’s ajar front door. He could see very little - a sliver of a brown, leather couch and a pair of shoes by the wall - but one thing was clear: he could hear Julie crying.
“Sweetheart, it’ll be okay,” Isak hears Even reassure her. “We’ll fix Sven, alright? Please don’t cry.”
Julie continues sniffling. Isak doesn’t think twice before gently knocking on their door.
“Hey, it’s Isak. Is everything alright?”
“Oh, hi Isak - come in.” Even clears his throat.
Just a moment after he walked through the door, Julie was already clinging to Isak’s denim-clad legs. He’d actually changed back into his regular clothes before going home this time, now wearing blue jeans and a forest green sweater under his winter coat.
“Isak,” Julie whines. “Sven ripped his leg open.”
He furrows his eyebrows at Even, who was sitting on the ground in front of the couch, looking just as distressed as his little sister. Even raises a reindeer plush in the air to show him, and Isak nods in understanding. Even runs a hand through his hair and sighs.
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that, Julie,” Isak sympathizes, patting her head. “Will you show me what happened to Sven?”
Julie detaches herself from Isak and walks over to the couch, taking the reindeer plush from where Even placed it. She holds it up with both her hands like a silent offering as she walks back to Isak, the stuffed animal gigantic in contrast with her tiny hands.
“Even gave him to me for Christmas,” Julie explains as she hands it to Isak. “I was playing with him and - I don’t know what happened - his leg just ripped.”
Isak looks at the damage. It really wasn’t that bad. Some of the stuffing was poking out of the rip, but it could be easily fixed with a little sewing, which is exactly what he told Julie.
“Julie, do you remember what my job is?” Isak kneels down in front of the little girl.
Isak could see the wheels turning in her head. “Um, you’re a doctor, right?”
Isak hums. “That’s right. I fix people for a living. But I can also fix Sven, if you’d like?”
Julie visibly lights up - frown long gone, now replaced with a hopeful look.
“Really?!” She asks, wiping away the tears from her face.
“Of course, love. Do you and Even want to come over to my place while I give Sven surgery?” Isak asks her, also taking a quick glance at Even to see his reaction.
The little girl starts jumping up and down, exclaiming “Yes, please!” several times, but Isak knows to look at Even for the real permission. Even nods with a smile and stands up from the floor, where just five minutes ago he’d been trying to console a desolate Julie.
Isak gives the plush back to her for a moment while he opens his door, all of them now in the hallway and in much better moods. Once inside, Isak tells them to make themselves comfortable in the living room (thank goodness Eskild had come over a few days prior and forced Isak to clean his apartment) while he searches for his sewing kit.
“Do you guys want anything to drink or eat?” Isak offers.
“Do you have apple juice? I love apple juice.” Julie muses.
“I do have apple juice. I love it, too,” Isak answers. He looked at Even after taking the juice carton out of the refrigerator. “Do you want some apple juice as well, Even? Or something else maybe?”
“I’ll have apple juice too, if you don’t mind.” Even replies.
“Of course not. Two apple juices coming right up!”
Isak promptly begins the surgery on Sven after he brought their drinks to the living room. Julie had laid the plush toy on the coffee table as Isak threaded the needle, Even simply watching from the comfort of Isak’s couch.
When everything was ready, Isak pinches the ripped area together and starts a simple but effective ladder stitch. Julie watches in fascination beside him, trying to sit as close to him but also careful not to disturb the process. Isak works diligently, putting an embarrassingly good amount of effort into stitching the reindeer up well, and was finished in no time.
“There, all done!” Isak presents the sewed up plush to Julie.
The little girl attacks an unsuspecting Isak with a hug, making him release an “umph” from the sudden weight. The reindeer was squished in between the two of them.
“Thank you so much, Isak! You’re the best!” Julie squeals, wrapping her arms around Isak’s neck tighter.
“Aw, it’s no problem sweetheart.” Isak smiles into the hug, making unintended eye contact with Even - who was still on Isak’s couch - for a few moments, both of them just grinning at each other.
“Okay, so I need to prescribe some things for Sven so he can heal properly,” Isak says in his professional surgeon voice. “He needs to be cuddled for at least six hours, be fed carrots, and be sung to before bed. Can you do that?”
“Yes, I can!” Julie shakes her head up and down eagerly.
She picks Sven up from where he fell on the ground, hugging him closely to her chest and turns to Even. “Even, can I go back to your apartment? I need to get some carrots and then cuddle Sven in your bed.”
“Of course, love. The door is unlocked. I’ll come in soon, I just need to talk to Doctor Isak over here.” Even moves to stand up from the couch.
Julie thanks Isak one last time, then runs across the hall.
Even offers his hand to Isak, who was still kneeling on the ground post-surgery. He takes it with a quiet “Thanks,” his cheeks flushed.
“Hey, thanks for doing this, you really didn’t have to,” Even laughs weakly. “I’m sure you’re tired from doing actual surgeries at the hospital.”
Isak waves him off. “It’s no big deal. Feels good to perform a surgery with low risks for once.” It was a lame attempt at a joke, definitely not Isak’s best, but Even laughs anyway, eyes turning into little crescents and his canines on display. Isak just swoons.
“Well, you saved me from having to do it myself. I’m pretty sure I don’t even own a sewing kit, much less know how to sew.” Even confesses.
“I can teach you sometime.”
Isak’s eyes widen once he realized what he’d just implied. God, can I actually have a filter for once? He mentally swears. They were neighbors - that’s it - Isak reminds himself. He coughs to cover his embarrassment.
“I mean - you don’t - we don’t have to do that. I just meant -”
“Isak, it’s okay,” Even interrupts lightheartedly. Isak’s shoulders drop. “I’d actually like that. Maybe you can come over sometime for dinner, too?”
Isak blushes. “Y-yeah, okay.”
A small silence falls on them then, Even biting his lip and Isak looking anywhere but at him.
Finally, Even scratches his head. “Well, I’m gonna go check on Julie, make sure she hasn’t done any damage to the apartment.” He sighs.
“Alright,” Isak replies, walking Even to his door. “I’ll see you soon?”
“Yeah, definitely.” Even nods, leaning against the door frame. “Oh - before I leave, can I have your number? Y’know, so I can text you about planning a sewing date.” Even (attempts to) wink.
Isak chokes. Sewing date. “Totally.”
After they exchange numbers, Even pads back to his apartment, giving a small salute to Isak before closing his door.
Isak realizes that he never stopped smiling the whole time.
***
After that day, Isak and Even were texting constantly. It seemed kind of lazy to text someone who lived across the hall from him, but Isak’s schedule at the hospital had been hectic- thirteen-hour days becoming a regular routine for him - and he’d always come home dead on his feet with no energy to interact with anyone else. But whenever there was a (rare) downtime at the hospital, he tried to text his friends (Even) to get his social time in.
Conversation flowed freely between them. Or at least, as freely as it could flow with hour-long breaks in between when he or Even couldn’t reply because of their work. Even was a polite enough texter, didn’t use too many emojis and wasn’t afraid of banter - Isak hated texting people who he couldn’t be sarcastic with. He learned that Even worked as a freelance videographer, so he spends most of his time working from home, quite the opposite from Isak.
Some days, Isak would open their messages to a new picture of Even and Julie eating cake or playing with Sven. He had such a soft spot for the little girl (and let’s be real - for Even) and he loved it whenever Even updated him on whatever they were up to that day. It was strange how quickly they became so comfortable with each other, but Isak liked it.
Even though it was mostly through texts, he appreciated the effort Even put in keeping in contact with him, since their opportunities to hang out weren’t exactly plentiful. For Isak, maintaining friendships was probably one of the biggest challenges he faced after graduating and starting his career. If he wanted to keep a friendship, he had to work hard for it. It was nice to think that Even liked Isak enough to try.
Exactly two weeks after the Sven Incident, he finally got the text.
Isak was about to head to the break room, having just finished another surgery, when Dr. Skrulle told him he could head home after he finished some paperwork. Isak thanked her and took out his phone as soon as he sat down at one of the empty tables.
Holy shit.
Well, if Isak’s being honest, the idea of properly hanging out with Even hasn’t left his mind since the last time he saw him. The prospect even gave him the strength to power through the past couple of weeks, knowing that one of these days would be spent with Even. With the incredibly busy schedule he’d had, he didn’t know when it would happen, but alas - luck was actually on his side right now.
He spent a solid two minutes trying to calm himself down and come up with a chill way to reply to Even’s text.
-
Isak got home at a record time that afternoon, taking only fifteen minutes instead of the usual twenty-five. He decides to take a quick shower (both him and Even could probably benefit from that) and change into his best clothes which - pathetically - were just black jeans and a dark blue button up shirt. Looking at himself in the mirror, he fixes his damp hair a little, makes sure he doesn’t have anything in between his teeth, and puts on some aftershave.
He takes a deep breath.
Now that what he wanted to happen is finally happening, the nerves begin settling in. It wasn’t even a proper date, just two neighbors hanging out, but still - he hasn’t hung out with anyone he was interested in for months, maybe even years. Has it really been that long? Isak thinks to himself. When was the last time I even got laid?
He shakes himself from his stupor, checks that he has his phone and his sewing kit with him before he closes his front door and knocks on the one across the hall.
“Halla!” Even greets.
The first thing that popped into Isak’s head was that he looked good. Even was just wearing a plain black long sleeve and a pair of jeans, which made sense, since he was only working from home that day, but Isak can’t help but think that it looked so good on him. His hair was in the same greaser-style quiff as the previous times Isak’s seen him, and it takes so much willpower for him to not just run his fingers through it.
“Hei,” Isak grins, lifting the sewing kit he brought. “I got the goods.”
Even laughs. “Oh my god. I totally forgot you offered to teach me how to sew.”
Isak furrows his eyebrows. “Why else would I be here for?” He feigns confusion.
“For my delicious cooking, duh.” Even retorts.
He steps aside to let Isak into the flat. The smell of food cooking from the kitchen instantly hits him, and he’s reminded that he hasn’t eaten in a while when his stomach grumbles.
“That smells good, whatever you’re making.” Isak notes.
“Thanks, I made Norwegian meatballs. Is that’s okay?”
Isak nods. “Wow, I only ever eat that on Constitutional Day,” He says. Even takes the sewing box from him and places it on his coffee table. “Is there a special occasion?”
“Yeah, we’re officially hanging out for the first time.” Even replies as-a-matter-of-factly. Isak chuckles. “Do you want a beer?”
Isak mutters a “Yes, please,” looking around Even’s living room while he went to fetch them drinks from the kitchen. The place was an exact replica of his, only flipped, so the kitchen was to the right of the living room and the bedroom to the left. There were several vintage movie posters framed and hung on the wall above the brown leather couch, the television mounted on the wall across from it. The coffee table was the center of the room, an attention-grabbing piece which looked like a slab of limestone on the bottom half and a blue-green, layered glass on the top. The light from the large windows on the wall adjacent to both the bedroom and the kitchen hit the glass part of the table in an interesting way, reflecting colorful specks all around the living room. It looked quite expensive to Isak, but he wasn’t here to question Even’s financial decisions.
“Here you go,” Even hands Isak a cold bottle of Nøgne Ø. “Skål!”
They sit on Even’s couch for a while, just talking about anything that came to mind. When Even asks him about his day, it takes Isak by surprise; as pitiful as it may sound, no one really asks him that question. Not until he and Even started texting, anyway. He certainly didn’t expect Even to ask him now, now that they were sitting across from each other. Isak thought Even asking him how his day went was just something kind to ask when texting, something to keep the conversation going, and not because he was actually interested. But now that Even was looking at him, genuine curiosity on his face, patiently waiting for Isak to speak, the whole thing seemed oddly domestic to him. He quickly got over it, though, talks about the several surgeries he had to do that day and rushes to reciprocate the interest with Even.
“Pretty uneventful, honestly.” Even exhales. “Just worked on this video for a client. Then I facetimed Julie for a bit. She says hi, by the way.”
“Aw, I miss her,” Isak says fondly. “I actually thought she lived with you.”
Even shakes his head. “Nah, she visits a lot, though. We were really close growing up,” he takes a swig of his beer. “Plus, she loves this place. And I don’t mind the company. It’s pretty easy to get lonely working from home.”
Something beeps and sends Even to his feet.
“Meatballs are done!” He explains.
“Do you need any help?”
“Um, yes, actually. Can you boil noodles?”
Isak rolls his eyes. “Of course, I can boil noodles. Who do you think I am?”
They enter the kitchen, the smell of food even stronger now and Isak’s stomach grumbles louder. Even hands him a bag of egg noodles and a pot, leaving him to read the instructions and begin his task. Meanwhile, Even was stirring a pan that was already on the stove.
“Is that the gravy?” Isak asks from the sink, filling the pot with the amount written on the bag.
“Yep. Wanna taste?”
“Sure.”
Isak didn’t expect Even to walk up to him with a spoon and basically feed him. He at least had the decency to blush while Even gently blew on the spoon to cool the gravy down before he placed it in front of Isak’s lips. He opens his mouth timidly.
Even gives him a second to taste it, then raises his eyebrows. “What do you think?”
“Good,” Isak licked his lips. “Really fucking good actually.”
Even chuckles. “Thanks, it’s a family recipe.”
Isak brought the pot of water to the stove next to Even. He turned the knob to high heat and salted the water.
“So is your whole family just a bunch of good cooks?”
Even laughs lightly. “Nei. Well, my mother’s side of the family is. I grew up with my grandmother teaching me her recipes. She said I should learn so I could impress my future wife.”
Oh.
“Or I guess my future partner in general. I never got to come out to her, though.” Even adds, stealing a glance at Isak. He busies himself with stirring the pan of gravy as Isak silently exhales a sigh of relief.
After a moment of silence, Even clears his throat. “What about you? Any interesting background story for how you learned how to boil noodles?” He teases.
Isak pokes him in the ribs. “Not really. My mother is a good cook, but I moved out before she got the chance to coerce me into doing some cooking.”
Even looks at Isak, waiting for him to say more.
Isak leans against the counter. “I uh, I left when I was sixteen. Things were pretty bad at home for a while because my mom was an undiagnosed schizophrenic. I just needed to get out of there if I wanted to be able to handle the situation better.”
Even bites his lip and nods in understanding.
“She’s doing well now, though,” Isak continues. “She got help shortly after I moved out. And since then, I’ve been trying to visit her every other week. It’s been a bit difficult lately with the residency and all, but I love her.”
Even smiles. “That’s nice.”
“It is,” Isak agrees. “But yeah, no grandmother who taught me how to cook to impress my future wife. I did however have a roommate who taught me how to boil pasta to impress my future husband.”
“Yeah?” Even tilts his head, mouth quirking up.
“Yeah.”
They continued to talk in the kitchen while the food cooked, chatting about random things and making each other laugh (“The first time I watched The Breakfast Club, I got bored and shut it off because the detention scene was running too long.” “Isak, I really hope you’re joking right now.” "I didn't know what it was about before I put it on!") Once the noodles were done, Isak drained them in the sink and they finally filled their plates. Deciding to eat their meals on the couch instead of Even’s tiny dining table in the far corner of the kitchen, they headed back to the living room. It helped Isak relax from the thought that, deep down, this felt like an actual date. They’ve spent all night getting to know each other more - even getting flirty at times - so, yes; he’ll accept eating on a couch instead of imploding at a candle-lit table.
“Even, holy shit, this is so fucking good,” Isak moans after taking his first bite. “I think I might cry.”
Even laughs heartily. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
“I’m serious. Your grandma is amazing for teaching you how to make this. She didn’t tell you about impressing your future neighbor, but you absolutely did.” Isak shovels another mouthful of noodles in his mouth. He realizes that his manners could be a little better right now, but he really couldn’t care less.
“I’m sure she appreciates the sentiment.”
For a moment, when Isak actually stops admiring his plate for a second to glance at Even, he thinks that he catches Even looking at him fondly, but he chooses not to dwell on that right now. He was too busy devouring his home-cooked meal.
Isak was pleasantly full after dinner, couldn’t even remember how long it’s been since he’s had food that delicious. He helped Even clean up, even though he insisted that Isak didn’t need to do so, and it made the process much quicker. Soon enough, they found themselves back on Even’s couch, fresh bottles of beer in hand.
“Okay, so you’ve cooked for me. Now I think it’s time for me to teach you how to sew.” Isak declares.
Even goes along with it. “Obviously, this is a two way street.”
“Is there anything in particular you need mending? Or are we gonna have to rip some clothes here?” Isak jokes. He doesn’t even register the innuendo in his words until he sees Even laughing. His ears turn pink. Seriously, where has his filter gone? “I did not mean for it to come out that way.”
Even just laughs even more.
“Don’t worry about it. And I do actually have a shirt that could use some re-stitching,” He says, standing up. “No need to rip up clothes just yet.” He winks, before disappearing into his bedroom.
Isak’s left on the couch to unabashedly blush for a minute.
When Even comes back, he's holding a green, plaid shirt, color faded with wear. Still, it felt soft, and would definitely keep anyone who wore it warm. He hands it to Isak, showing him the ripped shoulder seam, and Isak starts rummaging through his kit.
“Okay, so the first step is to find a needle and a thread that closely matches the color of whatever you’re sewing.” Isak says, pulling out the said materials. “The tricky part is threading the needle. My eyesight is pretty bad and it can easily take me way longer than it should.”
“My eyesight’s fine. Can I try it?”
“Yeah,” Isak hands the thread and needle to Even.
“I saw you lick the thread when you fixed Julie’s plush toy. Is that necessary?” Even asks, getting ready to do the task.
“Not necessary, but it does help a lot.”
Even places the end of the thread between his lips and licks it, the image oddly obscene for Isak. If he’s being real, any image related to Even’s lips just gets his imagination going. For fucks sake, Isak. Get your mind out of the gutter.
“I got it! That wasn’t so hard,” Even triumphs.
But I might be soon, Isak thinks.
He takes a deep breath, congratulates Even, then takes the thread from him to cut it off from the spool and tie a knot at the end.
“For this one you can just use a backstitch.” Isak states, then begins sewing the seam.
Even watches with full attention, taking note of the steps and listening to Isak’s tips.
“Here, try it. Just make sure your fingers are positioned correctly so you don’t injure yourself.”
Isak gives the shirt to Even and helps him position his fingers right. He starts sewing; wonky at first, but Isak guides him through it, and eventually he starts doing a decent job.
“There you go! You’re doing great, Even.” Isak grins.
Even looks back at Isak, grinning. “I learn only from the best.”
In that half a second he looks away from the stitching, Even manages to stab himself - hard.
“Ow! Fuck!” he hisses. He drops the shirt on his lap, tightly wrapping his other hand around his finger.
“Shit, Even, let me see.” Isak grabs his wrist to bring his finger closer to him.
His pointer finger was already bleeding profusely, but the injury wasn’t horrible. After all, a needle couldn’t possibly do that much damage. Isak gets up from the couch, hand still wrapped around Even’s wrist.
“Stand up, we have to clean up your wound.” He instructs, Even following suit.
Isak leads them to the kitchen, going straight for the sink and immediately places Even’s finger under the cool water.
“Where’s your first aid kit?”
“In the bathroom, under the sink.”
“Okay. Wash your hands for me. Focus on getting the pricked area clean.”
Isak looks for the bathroom, going off of how his own apartment was set up, he guesses it would be by Even’s bedroom. He looks under the sink and finds a heavy duty plastic box with a red medical cross on the top. In a different situation, he would’ve laughed at how cliche the box looked.
He returns to the kitchen to find a helpless looking Even, his finger still under the steady flow of water from the faucet. Isak turns it off, opens the first aid kit, and uncaps a small bottle of antibiotic ointment.
“This shouldn’t sting that much.”
Isak pours a generous amount of the ointment on the wound, feeling only a slight twitch from Even’s hand. He then quickly tears open a bandage and wraps it around Even’s finger.
“There, all set.” Isak exhales. “It’s just a needle stab, but make sure you wash the area frequently and thoroughly. Don’t want that to get infected and become a bigger problem than it needs to be.”
“Thanks, Doctor Isak.” Even beams.
Isak crosses his arms, pretending to be annoyed. “Be careful next time. Keep your eyes on the task at hand, especially if it involves pointy things.”
“Well, I was looking at you when I stabbed my poor finger.”
“Am I supposed to feel bad for you, then?”
“Yes! Look at me!” Even raises his bandaged finger and pouts.
Isak rolls his eyes for the second time that night. “Am I really that distracting?” He taunts. But Even’s eyes soften.
“Kind of.” He exhales.
Isak doesn't know what changes, but it feels different between them now. The draw to Even suddenly feels stronger, more tempting than it had been all night, and Isak is hyper aware that he’s slowly inching towards him.
He could feel the difference in the way Even was looking at him. He felt his eyes everywhere, could feel Even's stare burning through his skin, but maybe it was just the blood rushing to his cheeks.
He was looking at Even, too. Takes note of how blue his eyes looked at that moment, of how it reminded him of the clear, blue waters of the Oslo fjord on a sunny day. Takes note of the long, blonde eyelashes that fanned his cheeks as he looked down at Isak, who was trying so hard to press his lower back against the sink even harder, hands gripping the stainless steel edge, as if it's the only way he can ground himself.
Each second that passes feels more intense than the last. Even moves closer, and suddenly he's close enough that Isak feels his body radiate heat starting from his thighs, creeping its way up until it turns into Even’s breath on his face.
They were so close.
Isak’s finally leans in, eyes start fluttering shut. Even’s do, too.
They were almost there - the peach fuzz on Even’s face tickling Isak's cheek. Their breaths were already one.
That’s when a phone decides to ring.
“Fuck,” Even whispers. Isak pulls back in a heartbeat, clearing his throat like nothing happened.
“That’s the ringtone for my client,” Even explains. “I have to get this, I’m so sorry.”
Isak shakes his head. “Yeah! Of course. Work is important. Um - I’ll just head back to my apartment now. I have an early shift tomorrow anyways, so, yeah.”
Even looks sad, looks like he regrets what just happened, but he tries to fix his expression as fast as possible, replacing the frown he had with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Oh, okay. I’ll see you again soon though, right?” It almost sounded like Even was begging. Both of them head to his living room where his phone was lying on the table, ringing incessantly and completely unaware of what it’s done. Even picks his phone up, but doesn’t answer it just yet.
“Yeah, I’ll see you.” Isak smiles softly.
He gives Even a little wave before he turns his back to open the front door.
Later, when he's in bed, Isak thinks that maybe there's a good reason for how tonight turned out. He doesn't want to lose his mind over it just yet. They might've not kissed, but they almost did. That has to count for something.
***
Isak loved Sundays.
It was the only day off he was guaranteed to have each week, and he loved sleeping in and spending all day in bed - a luxury he deeply misses from his teenage years.
Not that he’d change anything in his life now. He has his own apartment which he loves, a solid group of friends (which reminds him: he needs to make plans for his monthly dinner with Sana soon), and an amazing residency at the Oslo University Hospital.
Being a proper, functioning adult is hard work, but he’d never felt so free and satisfied with his life.
That morning, Isak slowly wakes, the sun peeking through his blinds and through his closed eyelids and all he sees is red. He keeps his eyes shut for a while, just relishing the peace and quiet of his room, only noise coming from the very old heating unit he has below his windows. He cocoons himself in his comforter, warmed overnight from his own body and soft against his skin.
By the time he actually opens his eyes and stretches to shake away the sleep in him, it was 11:45, and his stomach was beginning to complain. He gets up, puts on his glasses (Sundays were the only days Isak doesn’t bother with putting in his contacts) and heads to the bathroom.
He washes his face (with facial soap, because he’s a sophisticated man now) and brushes his teeth, which always does the trick to make him feel like a human again. He looks at himself in the mirror. He could probably use a haircut soon.
He doesn’t forget about his stomach - well, more like his stomach doesn’t let him forget - so he checks his fridge, pleasantly surprised to see that he still had a decent amount of food left. He rejoices; no need to leave the couch today for groceries. He takes out the carton of eggs, deciding that he didn’t want to make anything too complicated, and preheats a pan.
Breakfast was usual as always: scrambled eggs and a piece of toast with brunost while Isak scrolls through his phone. He took this time to reply to all of his unread text messages; admittedly, he was pretty bad at texting people back, unless their name was Even.
He was chewing on his last bite of toast when he hears the same five knocks from weeks ago.
He swallows his food and heads to the door, instantly looking downwards to the height of the little girl he was expecting to see.
“Hei Isak! I like your glasses.” Julie chirps.
Isak lets out a tiny laugh. “Thank you, Julie. How are you?”
“I’m amazing! What about you?”
“I’m amazing, too.” Isak smiles. “Do you need me for something?”
“Oh right!” Julie remembers. “I’m here because Even has something to ask you.”
“Oh?” Isak raises his eyebrows, looking up at the familiar figure of Even, who was currently pinning his phone up to his ear with his shoulder, hurriedly putting on his shoes by the doorway while speaking to whoever it was on the line.
Even hangs up promptly, sighing deeply before looking up and realizing Isak’s presence.
“Oh - hi, Isak,” Even smiles. Isak greets him back.
“I already told him you have something to ask.” Julie looks up at Even. Isak gets a little nervous.
“Yeah. Um, this is kind of awkward, and you totally don’t have to say yes, and - you know what? Nevermind. I can just take Julie with me and it won’t be that bad. I’ll just make her sit somewhere with my phone to play games or something -“
“Even, stop talking.” Isak interrupts, grabbing the hand Even was flailing about the place as he rambled on. He obeys, settling down and his body visibly relaxing from Isak’s touch, though the worry on his face was still prominent.
“Relax, okay? Just tell me what you need.” Isak says.
“Okay,” Even inhales. ”Well, one of my clients just called me. Apparently they’ve had to change the location of the wedding reception last minute because of the snow that just came in, so I have to check out the place and make sure I’m bringing the right lenses and lighting stuff for the big day.” He explains.
“Were they planning on having an outdoor wedding in late January? In Oslo?”
“It was a whole tent situation, I don’t even really know,” Even sighs again. “But, I was wondering if you could maybe let Julie stay with you for a couple hours? I know it’s Sunday, and it’s your only day off, so I’m really sorry to be bothering you like this. God, I shouldn’t have even agreed to meet them, but my schedule won’t let me do it any other day.”
“Of course she can stay with me,” Isak simply states. “Don’t stress, I’m good with kids.”
Even looks like he could cry from relief. “I don’t doubt that. Thank you so much, Isak. You have no idea how much you’re helping me right now. I really owe you one.”
“You’re so dramatic, Even.” Julie rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, so dramatic.” Isak repeats, giggling with Julie.
“Watch it, you two,” Even warns lightheartedly. ”Anyway, I’ll just leave my door unlocked just in case you or Julie need something. Feel free to grab whatever in the kitchen, I wouldn’t want Julie to eat everything in yours.”
“Hey!” Julie slaps Even’s thigh, and he just sticks his tongue out at her.
“Alright, I’ve got to get going, but thanks again, Isak.” He smiles, eyes fond - the way Isak’s seen it before. “I’ll be back soon, this will take two hours, tops. I promise.”
Isak nods, ushering Julie into his apartment as Even waves. He watches as Even’s figure gets farther and farther away, until it disappears into the stairwell at the end of the hallway.
Inside, Julie quickly settles on Isak’s couch. He briefly forgets that she’s been here before.
“So, what do you want to do? I can make us some snacks, if you’re hungry.” He offers, standing by the entryway to his kitchen.
“Can we eat popcorn and watch a movie? That’s what Even and I always do when I visit him on Sundays.”
“Of course. You can check the DVDs I have in that shelf over there,” Isak points to the storage unit under his TV. “There are lots of Disney movies to pick from. I’ll go make us some popcorn.”
When he came back to the living room with a bowl of popcorn in one hand and two cups of orange juice in the other, Julie was staring down at three DVDs placed on the coffee table.
“Have you chosen one yet?” Isak asks.
“I can’t pick,” The little girl sighs. “Can you help me?”
Isak sets down the food on the table and hums. “Which ones do you have there?”
“I have Moana, Coco, and Frozen. I love them all so much, I can’t choose one.” She whines.
“Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” Isak starts. “I’ll assign each of those movies a number in my head. Whichever number you choose will be the movie we watch. Sound good?”
Julie nods eagerly.
“Give me a second,” Isak says, mentally numbering the movies. “Okay, go ahead.”
“Um, three. No - two!” Julie exclaims. Isak laughs.
“Moana it is.”
-
Watching a movie with Julie was more fun than Isak would like to admit.
Besides the rare occasion that Isak saw his baby cousins, he doesn’t really spend much time around little kids outside of the hospital. It was refreshing to be around a person so hyper, just a ball of energy that wants to dance and loudly sing along to Disney songs with no shame (something he’s only done drunk). Just watching Julie stand up at certain parts of the movie to jump around to the music drained Isak; he couldn’t picture himself putting that much effort into anything but work these days. The girl’s carefree attitude made him miss being a little kid himself.
(And if he gets up and dances with Julie during the “You’re Welcome” number, well, no one has to know.)
After the credits begin to roll, Julie asks him where the bathroom is, so Isak shows her where to go. He begins cleaning up the living room, collecting the empty cups and bowl to put in his sink. Then, he takes the DVD out of the player and puts it back in his (alphabetized) movie collection.
When Julie comes back, she settles back into her little corner on the couch.
“Isak?”
“Hm?”
“Do you like Even?”
That makes him stand up from where he was kneeling in front of the shelf. He looks back at Julie, who had her right arm folded on the armrest, head leaning on it. She looked like she was about to fall asleep.
Isak coughs. “Of course. I like you both.”
“No, I mean, do you like-like him?” She inquires even further.
“Um, I don’t know.” Isak blushes. It isn’t exactly something he’d want to confess to a nine-year-old girl.
“Well, I think my brother likes-likes you,” Julie yawns. “But don’t tell him I told you that.”
Isak thinks back to their almost-kiss a week ago. “Your brother and I are just friends.” He chuckles awkwardly.
“Yeah, well he doesn’t talk about his other friends all the time like he does with you.” Julie states nonchalantly, like it wasn’t meant to make Isak melt into a puddle.
“Um -”
Before Isak could babble out something incoherent, there was a knock on his door. Five familiar knocks and now Isak knows where Julie got the mannerism from.
He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“I think your brother’s here.”
Julie drearily opens her eyes and slowly stands up from the couch. Isak waits for her to walk with him to the front door. Another yawn escapes her.
“Told you! Two hours, tops.” Even greets as soon as Isak opens his door. His smile was bright, nose and cheeks rosy from the biting cold of a January afternoon.
Isak, still reeling a little bit from his conversation with Julie, could only laugh weakly at Even’s remark.
Julie walks over to Even’s side and he ruffles her hair. “Was she a good guest?”
Isak nods, putting his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. “Yeah, we watched Moana.”
“Ooh, nice.” Even comments. “Did you have fun, Julie?”
She nods tiredly. “Isak is a fun dance partner.”
Even raises his eyebrows at Isak, who only shrugged. “You’re not getting any more information than that.”
Even laughs. Julie yawns once again.
“Sweetheart, do you want to take a nap in my bed?” Even asks his sister.
Julie says yes, still rubbing her eyes.
“Okay, you can head in there now if you want. I’m just going to talk to Isak for a bit.” Even says softly, running his fingers through her hair.
Julie turns to Isak. “Thank you for letting me stay with you.”
Isak smiles. “Anytime, Julie.”
She shuffles over to Even’s apartment, waving with her tiny hand before heading to her brother’s room.
“I hope she wasn’t too much,” Even rubs the back of his neck. “I’m really sorry I had to interrupt your day off.”
“Seriously, it’s not a big deal, Even. She was lovely company.” Isak insists.
He doesn’t say anything else, neither does Even, and the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. Isak just basks in the presence of his neighbor, heart thumping when he once again remembers how the last time they hung out ended. He wishes he could tell if they were thinking about the same thing, but Even’s expression remains neutral.
“Do you wanna come over for a beer? I understand if you don’t want to. You probably just wanna have some alone time now -”
Isak interrupts him, just like he did earlier that day, by closing the door behind him. He starts walking towards Even’s door.
“C’mon, I wouldn’t pass up a bottle of your expensive beer.”
-
It’s so much better talking to Even in person, Isak thinks. It flows easily, never truly awkward or stunted, and it’s all because of Even. Isak knows well that he’s not the best conversationalist, but Even makes it so easy to be comfortable around him, like they’ve known each other for years instead of months. If they had met when they were children, Isak knows Even would be his best friend to this day, much like the couple he was currently telling Isak about.
“They’ve been best friends since they were in the first grade, then started dating in university. If they had been high school sweethearts I think I would’ve thrown up,” Even tells animatedly. “They were so sweet, so in love. And now they’re getting married and I get to document the happiest day of their life. How amazing is that?” He marvels.
“Pretty amazing,” Isak takes a gulp of his beer. “I can’t believe they’re not sick of each other yet.”
Even chuckles deeply. “I know, right? And from the way I’ve seen them, I don’t think they ever will be.” His face goes soft at the thought. “Didn’t you think that falling in love was going to be so easy when you were a kid? That you were just going to meet the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with and know it instantly?” He asks.
Isak shrugs. “I never really dreamt about falling in love until I started having a sexuality crisis in high school. And at that point, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to get married. I know it's legal here in Norway, but I only saw marriages between a man and a woman all my life, and so I felt like if ever I fell in love, getting married wouldn’t be the first thing in my mind. But I’ve never fallen in love - I don’t think I have, anyway - so all of this could just be a premature and pretty stereotypical idea in my head.”
Even takes a moment before responding. “I see.” Then, again, he was quiet for a few seconds. He was staring at something Isak didn’t know, and he looked like he was deep in thought.
“Did you know, in America, there’s a belief that by the age of sixteen, you would have already met the person you’re going to marry?” He finally says.
Isak snorts. “I’m pretty sure that’s not true.”
“Yeah, probably not,” Even amusedly shakes his head. “But isn’t that a comforting thought, though? Like, yeah, you might not end up getting together with them until much later in life, but they exist. And they’re going through life just as you are, maybe waiting just as impatiently for the time they’ll finally get to be with you, too.” Even leans his head against the back of his couch, turning his head to the left so that he’s looking right at Isak.
Isak swallows under the attention, then adjusts his glasses consciously. “I guess so. But some people never end up getting married, or even find their person in their lifetime. I just try not to make myself hope for something I might not find, you know? It softens the blow, I think.”
Even continues to stare at Isak, who was suddenly concentrated on peeling the damp label off of his beer bottle. “I’m sure you’ll find your person, Isak.” He says, above a whisper. “Maybe you’ve even found them already.”
-
Isak leaves shortly after Julie wakes up from her nap. By then, it was already half past four in the afternoon and the sun had set not too long ago. Even said that he had to drop his sister off at their parents’ house for dinner, so Isak decided it was also time for him to go home. He says his goodbyes, leaving Even’s apartment at the same time he and Julie did.
The rest of his night was spent relaxing, watching whatever was on TV and eating his leftovers from the night before. He finally texts Sana, plans to meet up with her sometime that following week to try the new Italian restaurant downtown. He even calls his mom just to hear her voice. They catch up and he makes sure everything was going well with her, promising to visit soon.
Isak felt so peaceful. He had a good day, that much he can say. It might not have turned out as lazy as he thought it would be, but it felt nice to have human interaction without the involvement of medical talk, and it helped that it was so easy to just be with Julie and Even.
The day left him thinking about some things, but Isak’s learned to accept that this is how it always goes whenever he sees Even. The marriage talk got to him more than he thought it would. He didn’t want to dwell on it, didn’t want to make a bigger deal out of it other than just being a conversation, but he got an unfamiliar - but not unwelcome - feeling in his gut when the idea of being with Even crossed his mind. The way Even talked about falling in love, as if it was something truly magical, something Isak shouldn’t miss out on, actually made him crave for it, even just a little bit. Sure, the thought of having a partner has always been nice, but he was never one to daydream about love. He's not a romantic, and it’s something he’s been proud of for the most part, because it lowers his expectations enough to never get hurt. But now, as Isak gets to know Even more and more, he’s only falling deeper, wants to spend more time with him, and he’d be lying if he said he couldn’t picture a future with him in it.
He likes Even - likes-likes Even, as Julie would say. He’s brave enough to admit that to himself. It feels strange to be so certain about something like this.
Later that night, before Isak goes to sleep, he receives a text message.
february
“Bye Even, happy birthday! I love you!” Julie exclaims through the phone.
“Thank you sweetheart, I love you too.” Even beams before hanging up.
He sighs, putting his phone back on his nightstand before falling back down on his bed, yellow curtains not quite meeting in the middle and therefore letting in a stream of morning sunlight into his room.
Even turns twenty-seven today, which, honestly, seemed like a fairly insignificant age to turn. Besides the 27 Club, no one ever talks about reaching that age, and Even had absolutely no plans on joining it. Maybe if he had woken up feeling different from when he was twenty-six, he'd feel a little more celebratory, but everything was still the same. Except maybe for his back pain that has steadily gotten worse throughout the years.
He’s got two more birthdays before he has to worry about turning thirty and for the realization to hit that he’s truly getting old.
In the comfort of his bedroom, he thinks about what he wants to achieve in the next year. He takes a moment to appreciate the fact that those goals become more doable and meaningful every passing year, like eating out less to save up money for a well-deserved vacation, and not so much trying to grow out a pre-pubescent moustache.
Even loved his life right now, for the most part, and he hopes it stays that way. Still - it wasn’t perfect, not for Even’s standards at least. He likes to think that his standards aren’t high, merely curated.
Of course, he knew that certain things would be harder to achieve in the adult life he’d always dreamed of. He always pictured having his own place (which he does) to share with an adorable dog and a loving partner (which he doesn’t). Come to think of it, it doesn’t really make sense as to why he doesn’t have a dog. Perhaps it was just one of those things he never got around to doing, but it would be perfect to have a companion since he spends most days working from home.
As for a partner - well, Even’s working on that.
His mind immediately goes to Isak.
Everyone knows Even’s a romantic. He would pour his heart and soul out to have an epic love story, which is just another way of saying he can be a bit dramatic when it comes to romance. However, he doesn’t think he’s over-exaggerating when he says he’s never seen a man as beautiful and angelic as Isak.
Whenever he sees those green eyes, blond curly hair, and extraordinary lips, he can’t help but feel like a teenager again. He feels so giddy whenever his phone pings with a new text from him, his mouth automatically turning upwards whenever he can hear Isak’s sarcasm through his messages, and everyday it gets harder for him not to just knock on Isak’s door and kiss him silly.
Even also appreciates how good Isak is with Julie. From the start, he’d been so sweet, funny, and playful, and it meant so much to Even that his sister also liked Isak a lot. When it boils down to it, he really owes his sister the friendship he now has with Isak. If it weren’t for all those cookies she insisted on baking, he wouldn’t know where he’d be with his lovely neighbor right now.
Even wasn’t quite in love with Isak yet, but he could see himself falling hard for him soon.
He eventually quits daydreaming and gets up to start the day. After all, the world doesn’t stop because he’s turning twenty-seven, and he still has some work to do for a particularly demanding client.
That’s what he ends up doing for most of the day - attending phone meetings and getting a good chunk of editing done for his current major project. He truly loves his job, couldn’t ask for a better one, but the downside to it was sometimes forgetting to leave his apartment to go get some fresh air. So, around 16:45 Even decides to call it a day for work and go outside for a bit.
He didn't stay out for too long, though; the weather was still harsh and it was extremely slippery on the sidewalks, but he liked the crisp breeze, the occasional dog he saw being walked by its owner, and he came out just in time to see the wonderful colors of a sunset in wintery Oslo.
By the time he comes back to his apartment, the only light coming from outside was the street lamps lighting up the almost-empty roads. Even calls in an order from his favorite pizza place, too lazy to cook anything and craving something cheesy, which he realizes contradicts his goal for this year. But it’s his birthday, so it doesn’t count.
He opens a bottle of beer when he’s settled comfortably on his couch and starts going through the birthday messages from his friends. Even loves them dearly, most of them being the same people who have stuck by him through his difficult teenage years, and he’s so grateful that he managed to have such loyal friends in his life. He takes the time to reply to all of them individually, sending heartfelt thank-you messages and a suggestion to all meet up for drinks soon.
Then he hears a knock on his door.
Even gets up from his couch, takes the money out from his wallet to pay the pizza delivery guy, but instead opens the door to a very bundled up Isak.
He was holding a helium balloon in his right hand - a pink cupcake with the words “Gratulerer Med Dagen!” written in colorful letters over it - and a real mini chocolate cake in his left.
“Happy birthday!” Isak cheers. “Before you ask - yes, I did get these from the hospital gift shop before going home.”
Even doesn’t think he does a very good job at hiding his shock. He may have been silent for a second too long, just staring at the very rosy-cheeked, adorable man in front of him, then he watches as Isak glances down at the money in his hand, the smile faltering from his face.
“I-I’m not interrupting something, am I? I mean, I dropped by unannounced, I probably should’ve checked in with you beforehand to make sure you weren’t busy. Shit, I’m so sorry -”
“Isak?"
"What?"
"You are so fucking cute.”
That makes Isak stop, immediately blushing when he realizes what Even’s said.
“I'm - huh?”
“You’re fucking cute,” Even repeats. “And no, I’m not busy. I ordered pizza and thought you were the delivery guy, hence the money.” He raises his hand clutching the money to emphasize.
“Oh, okay. Good.” Isak coughs. Cheeks still pink, but not so much from the cold.
Even steps aside. “Come on in.”
Isak does, actually needing to take his shoes off by the corridor for once. It’s the first time he’s properly coming over straight from work and not just from across the hall.
“You didn’t have to get all this, you know.” Even chuckles.
“Uh, yes I did? It’s your birthday.” Isak retorts.
“But what if some sick little kid at the hospital wanted this balloon, or this cake, but you took the last one?”
"There was plenty left when I got these."
"Still, Isak. A sick, eight-year old kid deserves this more than a twenty-seven year old pathetic dude."
Isak rolls his eyes. “Even, just take these from me and shut the fuck up.”
-
The pizza arrived not long after Isak did, and both of them demolished the pie quickly. They decided to watch a movie and just chill - Isak, of course, lets Even pick the movie, and he should have known that he’d pick something cheesy.
“Sixteen Candles? Really?” Isak guffaws.
“It’s my birthday, Isak. It’s only fitting."
"You're neither sixteen nor an American girl."
"Shh, just enjoy the masterpiece."
Despite Isak's initial reaction to Even’s choice of film, he actually found it pretty entertaining, or at least that’s what it seemed whenever Even stole a glance at him. Throughout the whole movie, he would hear Isak’s quiet giggles, at times saw his eyebrows furrow when the scenes just got too ridiculous, and his final smile when Samantha and Jake Ryan finally got together in the end.
Sometime during the movie, Isak started whining about his feet being cold. Unlike Even, who has spent enough time watching movies that he’s developed a routine of putting his feet up on the couch and draping a blanket over his legs, getting chilly wasn’t something Isak planned ahead for.
Instead of giving Isak his own blanket, Even just takes his legs, places them underneath his blanket, and rubs his warm feet against Isak’s freezing ones. Isak doesn’t say anything, but Even could see his content smile from the other side of the couch. They spend the rest of the movie with their legs tangled up in the space between them.
“So, did you like it?” Even asks as soon as the last scene ended.
Isak stretches his arms out. “I mean, it was so unrealistic. But sure, I liked it.” He moves from laying on his side to sitting straight up, feet now back on the floor and Even immediately misses the contact.
Isak yawns, prompting Even to check his phone for the time and - damn, he didn’t realize it was already quarter past nine.
“You tired?” He asks dumbly.
“Nah, I’m alright. Finishing movies always just makes me yawn.”
“If you say so.”
“I can’t believe you’re a grown man and you still watch 80s American teen movies.” Isak pokes.
“Excuse me, John Hughes' films are classics," Even defends. "And aren’t you the one with the big Disney movie collection?” He retaliates.
“How do you know about that?”
“Julie told me.”
“Whatever,” Isak scoffs. “That’s different, anyway. Those are proper classics. Your movie taste is just weird.”
Even huffs. “It’s my birthday and you’re being so mean to me.” He pouts.
“Herregud, you’re always so dramatic,” Isak rolls his eyes again. “I’m gonna go get your cake. Keep the lights off so the candles look dramatic, just like you.”
Isak returns a few minutes later, both hands underneath the cake with nine lit candles, doing the matching dance as he shamelessly sings gratulerer med dagen to Even, who was just smiling and laughing the whole time. He realizes how absurd they must look like, with Isak dangerously dancing in the dark with candles so close to his clothes and him just sitting on the couch letting it all unfold, but he couldn't care less. It felt like they were the only two people in the world, anyway.
“Gratulere!” Isak finishes, sitting back down next to him, a bit breathless. “Happy birthday, Even,” He says in a much softer voice, and he was sitting closer to him this time. Their knees were touching firmly, and Isak’s holding out the cake in front of him. “Don’t forget to make a wish.”
Even takes a moment just looking at Isak, face illuminated by the candles, and it lights up his eyes in a different shade of green, different from what Even’s used to, but he loves it just as much. He spends a moment thinking about how he was ready to let this day blend in with all the others until he found Isak at his doorstep, ready to celebrate a birthday he thought to be unimportant. He spends a moment recalling how Isak had said that every birthday is, in fact, important, because it symbolizes a whole year where he battled the lows and enjoyed the highs and just lived. He spends a moment realizing how grateful he is for Isak.
Even’s wish couldn’t have been clearer to himself.
He blows out his candles, the smell of smoke immediately entering his nose, but he doesn’t care. The only light left in the living room was coming from his television: abandoned at the movie menu screen, which, ironically, displayed the scene where Samantha and Jake were sitting on a table, a lit birthday cake the only reason for the space between them - much like the position Even and Isak were in now.
When it hits him, Even chuckles softly and shakes his head.
“What?” Isak raises an eyebrow.
Even exhales, a hint of a smirk on his face. “Do you realize what we look like right now?”
It takes a second for Isak to understand what he was referring to, but the moment was clear when it dawned on him, his eyes widening and jaw dropping slightly.
“Oh my god,” He laughs, throwing his head back. “We are literally copying the movie right now. That is so fucking embarassing.”
“Embarrassing?” Even repeats, laughing along with him.
“Yeah. I mean, I literally said earlier how unrealistic that movie was, and now here I am, in the same situation as Samantha -”
“Wouldn’t you be Jake Ryan in this scenario?”
“Fucking semantics, Even.” Isak groans.
Even bites his lip to stop himself from cracking up again, settling on looking fondly at him, his gaze kept with intent. Isak could barely look back without directing his eyes down every few seconds, but Even saw him stare at his lips, quick glances as if he can’t help but look.
Still, he can sense a resistance in Isak, even when he mirrors Even and bites his own lip.
Then, the energy in the room was suddenly different, and Even thinks back to the first time this happened between them. Their silence only grew stronger, undeniable tension making it hard to breathe. His head is spinning - Isak Isak Isak, it chants - and there was a buzzing feeling, secrets begging to be told in the quiet of the room, silent stares revealing more than what they could speak. But, now, finally, they both knew that they were thinking about the same thing.
Even takes the cake from Isak’s hands, sets it down on the coffee table in front of them, then lifts up his chin with his forefinger. Isak swallows.
“Isak,” Even whispers, and now he has no choice but to look back at him. “I don’t know if you’re completely oblivious, or if I haven’t been obvious enough, but I really like you.”
His heart was beating fast, scared of rejection, scared that all of this has just been in his head, scared that Isak might not feel the same way. He lets his mind wander through the moments they’ve had, the not-so-innocent stares and the private smiles, the heart emojis sent to each other without hesitation, and the undeniable moment last month when they almost kissed. Surely they all meant something, right?
Even prays anyway.
Isak is speechless, and it doesn’t help Even’s heart slow down. He looked like he was in awe, and Even thinks it was the slowest minute of his life as he waited for Isak’s lips to slowly turn upward, eventually morphing into a full-blown grin, before he says, “Of course I like you, too, idiot.”
The confirmation grants Even a big sigh of relief, a huge grin breaking out on his own face. His heart is still racing, feels like he’s just ran a marathon, but it's okay. He won.
They’re even closer now.
Even doesn’t waste any more time, places his hands on either side of Isak’s face and finally they’re kissing.
It begins as almost just a clash of teeth - both of them still smiling - and it takes them an embarrassingly long time to get their act together. But, eventually, it turns softer - a real kiss.
Then it was slow, lips encompassing lips, no signs of it being rushed, like they had all the time in the world. It’s even better than Even’s dreamed of. Isak’s cupid bow such a prominent and unique shape that Even knows it’ll always be different kissing him compared to everyone else. He doesn’t even want to think about kissing other people anymore, could probably live off of just Isak’s lips for the rest of his life. They were soft, so, so soft, and he tastes of beer and pizza and just Isak. Even’s certain he’s slowly losing his grip on reality with every minute he spends being so close to him, senses overloading with the taste of his mouth, the smell of his skin, the softness of his hair - everything.
It was Even who pulls away first, needing to take a deep breath or he might be in danger of passing out from the way his mind was still swirling. But he continues to stroke Isak’s cheeks - doesn’t think he can go another second without some form of contact with him - and tries not to cry when he opens his eyes to find that Isak has kept his shut, following the ghost of Even’s lips when he moves away.
He only gives himself a moment before he comes back, can’t stay away from Isak now that he’s allowed to do this, and this time their kiss was more passionate, urgency and want running through their veins as tongues come out to play - fighting and caressing and tasting.
Isak was divine, small whimpers escaping his lips and Even swears this is actually what heaven feels like.
Neither of them know how long they’d been kissing, but when they finally pull away, both of their lips were swollen, hair tangled messes, and an overwhelming feeling of contentment in their beings.
Isak was still catching his breath when he decided to speak. “You’re really good at that.”
Even laughs breathlessly. “You’re not so bad either.” Then he runs his fingers through Isak’s hair, kissing his cheek.
“I know, I’m the fucking master of kissing.”
Even laughs again. “Yes you are, baby.”
He watches as Isak basically melts at the term of endearment. He stows away that information for the future.
“Thank you for spending my birthday with me,” He whispers against Isak’s lips. “I really really enjoyed it.”
Isak wraps his arms around Even’s neck. “You better have enjoyed it. I’m tired as fuck now. I don’t know how I’m supposed to walk all the way to my apartment.”
Even rubs his hands up and down Isak’s sides, then rests them on his back. “Isak, you live across the hall.”
“But it’s so far away.” Isak whines.
Even rolls his eyes. “How am I the dramatic one in this relationship?”
The word slips past his lips before he realizes it. Shit.
But Isak just hums, nuzzling his nose against Even’s. “Is this a relationship?”
Even backs away a little to catch Isak’s eyes better, looking at him with more seriousness this time. “Do you want this to be a relationship?”
Isak plays with the hair on the nape of Even's neck, then faces him with the same genuineness, locking their eyes together. “Shit yeah,” He whispers. “And you can’t back out anymore. You’re my boyfriend now.” He wraps his arms around Even tighter as if to prove his point.
They stay wrapped in each other’s embrace for a while, calming down and breathing each other in. Even still can’t believe he’s lucky enough to have this.
He slowly disentangles himself from Isak to shut the TV off, but the latter doesn’t budge. Even simply uses it as an excuse to carry him in his arms, catching Isak off-guard and causing him to make a surprised noise in his throat. He goes along with it, anyway.
“Okay, boyfriend. Since you don’t wanna walk all the way across the hall to your apartment, you’re staying here with me.” Even declares, heading to his bedroom and Isak just replies with a tiny “Okay.”
They don’t think about how they’ve left Even’s birthday cake out on the table until the next morning. They don’t dare eat it, and Even just ends up teaching Isak how to make his cardamom cookies.