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The notion first seriously occurred to her when they'd finished filming a video for Unus Annus. 'Homemade Pepper Spray' was perhaps one of the more stupider things they'd ever done and of the two of them Ethan was suffering considerably more, having accidentally opened his eyes right before Mark sprayed him in the face. Mark had insisted on taking him to the hospital but Ethan had been vehemently against the idea, kicking up a fuss until Mark had relented.
They were still in the kitchen now, visible through the door from where she sat at the table, plugging the camera into the laptop to make sure the file had saved. Mark had one arm around Ethan's waist, hand splayed over his hip while the other held a rolled up wad of paper tissue soaked in milk and water against his eyes. His head was bent low against Ethan's, murmuring soothingly in his ear just barely loud enough for her to shamelessly listen in.
"I've got you, Eth. Why'd you have to look, huh? It doesn't matter. I've got you. I know it hurts but you're okay. I'm sure if you go blind we can train Spencer to guide you around... Yeah, yeah. I'm just joking. Chica'd be way better at it. C'mon, show me that smile... There we go. I'm not gonna let you go, okay? I'm right here. Gonna stay right here with you until it doesn't hurt as bad."
She listened thoughtfully, drumming her fingertips against the table. Mark was a caregiver, there was no secret about it. He was the brotherly or paternal figure of the friendship group, especially towards Ethan, with whom he'd taken on very much a mentor-mentee role that hadn't quite disappeared during the development of their friendship. Their friendship had been solidified by Unus Annus the longer it went on, forged by time together, lessons learned, experienced shared and trust bolstered.
Trust, like now, with Ethan leaning against Mark's chest, sniffling softly and blindly (literally) trusting Mark to take care of him, fingers curled in Mark's shirt. Trust like when Mark coaxed Ethan into shuffling towards the main room, hands firm but gentle, guiding him carefully and with great consideration towards the couch, concern etched into his face and mingling with fondness as he settled Ethan down then pulled him against his chest, moving lips hidden behind Ethan's hair.
Ethan's head was tipped blindly towards the sound of Mark's voice, curled up against him like a child. As she watched a wobbly smile broke out at something Mark said and then his lips moved in response, an unmistakable utter of I love you too.
And... That's where it started, she supposed. That little seed, planted tentatively into the soil. She wasn't blind to the fandom content surrounding Mark and Ethan's friendship, to the content that alluded to them being even more than than that. She even knew that some of it included her in various capacities.
She thought about Ethan moving out to L.A for a man he'd followed for half his life. She thought about Mark leaping into the thing that scared him most just because Ethan was there, at his side and waiting for him. She thought about the hours they'd spent together, the almond butter in the cupboards that wasn't there for them and the EpiPens in the kitchen drawer and the boxes of stuff littered through the house that didn't belong to them. About the hoodies in Mark's closet that were unmistakably too small to be his and too out of her style to belong to her.
She thought about I love you and I love you too. About bond and chemistry.
She sat there, and she wondered.
Mark drove Ethan home, not trusting him to drive with his current state, promising to pick him up in the morning too since it meant leaving Ethan's car parked outside their house. He was gone for far longer than it would've taken to simply drop Ethan off and when Mark came back through the door he still looked concerned, mind clearly occupied on the incident. She let him bluster around for a while, having already cleaned up the mess from the video and put the day's equipment in Mark's office so he could get around to editing it at some point.
"How is he?" she asked when it seemed like he'd calmed down a little, sitting on the couch with his phone and a mug of iced tea. He glanced up at her then softened, shrugging with a light nod-shake of his head.
"He won't lose his eyes. God, he's so fucking dumb. Who opens their eyes when they're about to get pepper sprayed? He's gonna look like shit tomorrow. Serves him right, though. Sometimes I just... Sometimes I just feel like I gotta wrap him up in a few layers of bubble wrap and stick him in a room full of soft things, y'know? Like I gotta put foam over every doorhandle and tape over every plug socket."
She smiled knowingly and settled on the couch next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and catching his eye lightly. "That's what its like, when you love someone. You want to keep them safe." He seemed startled by that, expression scrunching then smoothing as he scoffed, clearly deflecting the weight of the words.
"Sure I love him. Like I love getting smacked in the face with a brick," he muttered, but she knew him well enough to know that shine in his eyes, that softness that crept past his defences no matter how hard he tried to barricade himself against his emotions. She hummed lightly and curled up against his side, picking up her Switch. When she glanced at him again he was focused on his phone and she could see Moron as the contact name of the person he was texting.
With a broader smile, she loaded up Animal Crossing.
Now that seed was planted it was impossible not to tend it into a garden. It didn't help that they were constantly watering it, if the metaphor was going to be upheld. The more she watched them after that initial thought the more she noticed things and the more she considered those things from a slightly different perspective.
Like how Mark checked absolutely everything when they went shopping for peanuts, just on the off-chance that Ethan might eat any of it, even if they were shopping for their own groceries and not anything video or planned-dinner related. About how if Mark wanted peanut butter he treated it like a contagious bacteria, buying it alone and wiping it down, storing it in a plastic container far out of the way of any other food or anything Ethan might touch.
Like how she'd watched him constantly pack two spare jackets whenever they went somewhere and when she'd asked his primary reason had been; well if you and Ethan both get cold at the same time or ruin yours, you can't share one jacket, and we both know Ethan sucks at being prepared, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Like how Ethan had somehow become a fixture in their lives, seamlessly and easily. Slipping in and around them and fitting like a puzzle piece. How right it felt to not go to their favourite restaurant whenever Ethan was joining them just because it served peanut dishes or to know that Mark often wore a hair tie around his wrist for when she needed it, to know that Ethan would sit there and braid her hair for her perfectly while she did her makeup because Mark always tried, bless him, but it always ended up looking a little messy and uneven.
For all that she and Ethan fit together, she was under no illusion where Ethan's purest and strongest affections lay. Just like she knew that if it ever came to a choice between her and him, Mark would pick her. They weren't there yet, but the more she thought about it, the more she could imagine it. The more she could imagine it working. She loved Mark. More than anything. She could see herself growing old with him, getting married, starting a family... He was enough for her, always, and yet she could also see herself loving Ethan. More than she already did, past the capacity of a close and trusted friend.
He was handsome, caring, considerate. He cared about her unequivocally and was just as supportive of her as Mark was. She knew he was a good partner, attentive, romantic. She knew more about his sexual preferences and tastes than any two friends really ought to know.
And she knew Ethan loved Mark.
He was about as subtle over it as a brick to the face. She'd watched hero worship and admiration transform into attraction and adoration; dedication and honest, raw love. The only one who seemed oblivious enough to it was Mark himself, who considered Ethan's attention purely platonic. Ethan was out to their friendship group as 'fluid' in who he found attractive and who he loved, never outright denying his sexuality but not addressing or broadcasting it, either.
And Mark... She rolled over, looking across at him curiously. Mark spoke frequently about being straight, but he'd also noted that he 'hadn't completely ruled out' at least trying something sexual with another man. He joked about it often enough, but as far as she knew he'd never actually done anything. They'd ruled out threesomes and multiple partners pretty early on in the relationship and the subject had never come up again.
"Mark?"
"Mm?" his answering hum was low and sleepy. They'd had a busy day of filming and he'd stayed up late to help Evan with some editing. She couldn't blame him for being tired - Unus Annus had taken off beyond all of their expectations and now they were scrabbling to try and keep up with its ever growing size and community. She was quiet for a short while, trying to figure out how best to talk about what she had in mind.
"Do you think that someone who's heterosexual typically could fall in love with someone of the same gender?" she asked, reaching out to stroke down his cheek lightly. He looked confused, thoughtfulness creeping along the edges. "I mean," she continued, "do you think it would be possible to love someone regardless of the fact they were the same gender? That you fall in love with them more so than their gender or sex?"
She hoped desperately that she was making sense, and she hoped more so that he would actually think about it. Perhaps even after they were done talking.
"I think... Maybe? I think its possible that you could find yourself attracted to one specific person and it doesn't matter that they aren't male or female. But, I wouldn't know. I'm not an expert. Wouldn't you technically not be heterosexual if that was the case?"
At the least; Mark sounded like he was actually thinking about it, mulling over the terms and technicalities like the intelligent and curious person that she knew him to be. It would be something he'd pick apart over the next few days, another seed planted that he would tend and water of his own accord. She hummed in response, settling until he spoke again, his voice curious and a touch cautious.
"Why? Pretty girl went and caught your eye?"
She snorted softly, then shook her head. "I barely know what to do with my own vagina, let alone someone else's. No, I just..." How would she say it? How would she present the idea to him without him jumping into a hundred different conclusions?
"I was just thinking. I saw something today and it made me get a little philosophical."
It wasn't a lie.
He hummed lowly, then reached across the bed and pulled her to his chest, kissing her temple before he settled down. It didn't long for either of them to fall asleep and he didn't mention her midnight musings in the morning. The first thing he did was text Ethan in fact—smiling to himself as he pushed the covers off and headed for breakfast and his first workout of the day. Ethan wouldn't be awake for several more hours if the younger man's sleeping schedule was to be referenced, but it was still part of Mark's morning routine to message him more or less right after opening his eyes, even more so now they had the obligation of Unus Annus tying their days together.
In fact, she couldn't remember the last day she hadn't seen Ethan in some form, be it in person or on FaceTime.
Mark had presumably brought up Amy's midnight question to Ethan at some point because when he came bounding into their house later in the day with an arm full of Starbucks drinks he beamed at her and said; "heteroflexible, biromantic or demisexual."
She blinked at him for a moment, head tipping a little as she took her fruit smoothie and unpackaged the straw. When he realised she didn't quite grasp the topic, he elaborated.
"Mark, uh, said you asked him some stuff. Last night. So I helped him do some research. Those three terms are the most akin to your question. Being largely heterosexual but being attracted to a singular person or a very limited group of people of the same sex," he noted, nose scrunching a little in the manner that it did when he was trying his best to focus on the words and not mess up his speech. Bemused, she reached out and squeezed his shoulder gently.
"Thank you, Ethan. That's very helpful," she praised sincerely before she motioned for him to go on ahead to the garden where Mark was waiting to film the latest video. Then she settled on the couch and opened her 7 Cups of Tea app, thumbing onto the live chat option. She was going to need educated and unbiased advice if she was going to do this properly.
They only needed the one movable camera set up today, so she had the time, and as she talked with a consultant and therapist she listened their mingled voices, to the soft 'Maaaarrrk's and overly put upon 'what, you big baby's. She didn't have to be witness to know the heartfelt looks that would be exchanged between them, to know that they'd be all over each other and touching even when Mark was the furthest thing from an overtly tactile person, simply because it was Ethan.
She was still cautiously educating herself on the terminology, definitions and the various aspects of romantic and sexual attraction when Mark decided several days later on their 'downtime day' (quoted and unquoted because Mark never actually rested on such a day) that the three of them were well deserved of a high class meal out in order to celebrate reaching five million subscribers on the channel. She came back from the grocery store to find him wearing the white Annus suit—waistcoat, jacket and tie currently folded up on the table—and fixing his hair in the mirror.
"Hot date?" she teased him lightly and he met her gaze in the mirror with adoration.
"Two hot dates," he corrected her, turning to take the grocery bags from her (ever the gentleman and eager to show off his muscles.) "I've booked us a table for two-and-a-half hours' time at that Italian restaurant. Me, you and Ethan," he admitted sheepishly, voice rich with warmth as he kissed her cheek and took the bags into the kitchen, smartly stepping over Chica with the air of someone who'd tripped over her one too many times before. He seemed overly chipper in comparison to when she'd left, and she told him as much as she leaned in the doorway and watched him.
"I'm taking two of my favourite people out to dinner," he replied simply, the smile on his mouth warm and fond. She had no argument to that and headed upstairs to get ready, selecting a white dinner dress with a black blazer to match the apparent formal dress of the occasion and to match her lover. Her makeup didn't take too long and she used her remaining time to curl her hair a little so it fell in twists around her shoulders. Descending the stairs garnered her a fawning reception and they took a few photos together before they piled into the car.
"Did you even tell him what was happening?" she asked amusedly as Mark began to pull away from the curb. He had a habit of simply calling upon the younger man, like summoning a dog with a whistle, and not actually giving him any context or cause. In more than just a few Unus Annus videos Ethan found out about the plan for the day as and when they were filming. The habit wasn't just limited to recording—Ethan often showed up to movie nights or charity events or general get-togethers with absolutely no idea what awaited him. The glimmer in his eyes told her this was one of those scenarios and Mark hummed with an absent shrug.
"I told him to wear the Unus suit," he clarified, as if that was in any way close, and she rolled her eyes at him fondly. The drive to Ethan's house didn't take long with most of the evening time traffic already out of the way and when they pulled up outside she could see Ethan leaning in his doorway, dressed in the full Unus suit, one arm wrapped around his middle as he scrolled through his phone. He looked quite aesthetic there and she made a mental note to ask Mark about perhaps doing a few photoshoots in the suits for Instagram as he pressed on the car horn lightly, spooking Ethan who in turn bounded up to the car with a grin, piling into the back seat like a child picked up from school.
"Aaaam-yyyy!" he beamed at her in delight, reached through the seats to squeeze her hand gently before he buckled himself in. "You look so goooood! Are you gonna be on camera too? What are we filming today, its so late! Are we doing another night shoot? Is—"
"God, stop talking," Mark scoffed, but it was only his usual teasing as he twisted in his seat. "Are you buckled in? Are you sure? Good. There's Skittles in the door compartment. Eat them and be quiet."
Ethan dove for the snacks and Amy wondered if she ought to point out that feeding children sweets before dinner was generally a parenting no-no, smiling to herself as she pulled out her phone to take a few over the shoulder shots of Ethan along the way.
"Can I talk now?" he asked brightly as they pulled up outside the restaurant front and Mark gave a low hum of affirmation as he turned off the car.
"Cool! What are we doing?" he asked, leaning in his seat to peer out at the glowing front of the facility. Through the windows tables covered in white dining cloths were visible with an array of customers seated. She could already smell the food and her stomach reminded her that she'd eaten fairly little that day. Mark got out of the car before answering, sliding around the front to open both of their doors in tandem. Ethan popped out like a spring, fully loaded and clearly invested in whatever Mark had planned for him.
"Unus Annus hit five million subscribers, so I'm taking you both to dinner to celebrate," Mark explained, reaching out to straighten Ethan's tie and fix his hair where the younger Youtuber had been running his fingers through it. Ethan cooed at him, delighted and slightly embarrassed both, shuffling under the attention.
"Aw, Ma-ark!" There was a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment between them of unspoken communication and then Mark nodded slightly, opening his arms readily when Ethan surged forwards. To anyone else Mark's put-upon look of suffering might've appeared genuine, but Amy knew better. She could see the way Mark's shoulders relaxed as he exhaled, the way that his fingers curled in the fabric of Ethan's suit at his waist, holding on like an anchor. They clutched at each other for a stretched out moment before pulling away and then Mark's arm slid around her waist, his other beckoning for Ethan to step closer so he could do the same as they entered the restaurant.
It was a beautiful facility, filled with the aroma of wine and good food. Ethan's nose twitched and he perked up, peering around the large room as Mark walked them to where a host stood behind a small reception desk. "Hi," Mark greeted with one of his winning smiles. "I have a table for three reserved under Annus?"
The host looked at them critically for a moment, then sniffed lightly. "Three of you. How very modern," he drawled as he shuffled a menu stack and then gave them a bright smile. "Right this way, Mr. Annus."
A gesture to follow, and the man went striding off through the tables. Mark blinked, bemused and a little caught off guard, one corner of his mouth tipped up like he didn't know whether to smile or be a little offended. Amy leaned forwards just a touch to catch a glimpse of Ethan, who'd gone pink as a peach and looked like he expected Mark to start steaming from the ears.
She took a step and pulled Mark with her and that seemed to kick both boys out of their funk, moving to chase after the host and sink into their seats. The host handed them the menus, rattled off the usual information about the offerings and turned to leave when Mark lifted his hand slightly, catching his attention before he brushed his hand against Ethan's arm.
"I mentioned in the call that he has a lethal peanut allergy. Did you...?"
The host cast him a knowing look, nodding empathetically. "One of those menus has been marked by the chef for everything that contains peanuts and we'll mark your ticket so he knows to thoroughly clean down the station before preparing your order."
Mark smiled in response and drawled a heart-felt thank you as the host left them to it, glancing aside when Ethan pressed their thighs together with a starstruck look. The older man shifted a little, hand dropping briefly below the table to squeeze his knee lightly.
"I've got an EpiPen in my pocket, too," Mark assured him, and Amy watched the exchange with warmth curling in her chest. The moment that Mark had found out about Ethan's allergy he'd immediately adjusted to it with the same level of dedication he did any other aspect of his life. They didn't keep peanut butter in the house unless they were making a recipe that specifically called for it, their cupboards were lined with alternative spreads for whenever Ethan came over and the older man even went and bought EpiPens himself on a routine basis to keep stored in the house, just on the off-chance that something happened. Ethan had gotten all teary eyed the first time he'd forgotten his own and Mark had casually pulled out the packet from the kitchen drawer.
She chose a seafood paella for herself and Mark chose the meatiest thing he could find on the menu while Ethan chose a red wine and herb lamb shank. They made idle talk as they waited, discussing Unus Annus and the current events of the year and what they hoped to do when the channel was over. Amy's own plans included focusing more on her pottery and maybe getting a flexible, part-time job and Ethan's plans included trying to take his Youtube career more seriously by working on some sponsorships, collaborations and doing something other than the generic lets-plays. Mark looked like a proud partner as Ethan spoke and offered his full support with such warmth in his voice that even Amy felt a little misty eyed as their food was delivered.
"To Unus Annus, to us, and to making the most of the future," Mark announced as they blinked their glasses together.
The meal went wonderfully, a night of good atmosphere, good food and good company. Ethan let Mark try his lamb and Mark jovially spoon-fed the younger man a piece of his vanilla and fudge dessert and she watched them lovingly, wondering if this is what they'd be like on a real date. If they'd take liberty of the relationship and be even closer, even more boyfriend-y than they were now. She was full and content on the drive back and Ethan was half-asleep behind her, leaning his head on the window and making the odd soft noise when they went over a bump or pothole.
Mark's gaze flicked up to the rear-view and he smiled, a fond quirk of the mouth. "Ah, look at him. They're so cute when they're not talking," he teased richly, chuckling deeper when Ethan raised a hand to give him a half-hearted display of the middle finger. Amy smiled at them both and shook her head lightly.
"Don't be mean to the baby. He's adorable all of the time."
"Thanks, Amy," Ethan breathed sweetly, smiling sleepily at her before his eyes fell shut again. Mark glanced over at her for a moment then gave a resigned huff and roll of his eyes.
"Isn't your favourite supposed to be the one you're in a relationship with?"
She shrugged lightly at him with a vague noise and turned her attention to her phone with a secretive smile. They were outside Ethan's house in next to no time and instead of simply dropping Ethan off and driving away Mark cut the engine and slipped out, opening the door for Ethan and shooting Amy a quick won't be long before he set a hand in the crook of Ethan's arm, steering him towards the house. They had keys to each other's places and she watched Mark open the door while Ethan hung sleepily off his arm, the duo disappearing inside. Mark was barely gone for ten minutes before he slipped back into the car, looking fond and content with the end of the evening.
"Kissed him goodnight?" she teased, reaching out to fix a lock of his hair.
"He was beat. I made sure he got out of the suit before he passed out in it and got over-heated and uncomfortable," Mark hummed in response, sliding the keys back into the ignition and turning the car for home.
"Its normally the one you're in a relationship with that you undress at the end of a night out," she parroted his jest from earlier and he made a noise of pretend disgust before he waggled his brows at her.
"Who says I don't have enough energy to do both?"
After that, she kept watching them fall in love quietly, as easy as breathing, neither really realising that they were transgressing the boundaries of platonic romance. Mark had never been the most overtly tactile lover, but it was like he couldn't keep himself from Ethan. Some part of their bodies always had to touch, even if it was just their knees pressed together beneath the safe cover of the table. Praise from one to the other seemed to hold more weight than from anyone else, and she realised that over the course of Unus Annus Ethan had practically moved into their house.
She stared at the hoodie in her hands, sat on the couch surrounded by piles of laundry. Mark had offered to help her fold it and Ethan, sat at his heels, had offered the same but she'd shooed them both out and to a Buffalo Wings fondly. Mark was so meticulous about laundry that it took him forever to do and she adored Ethan but he couldn't fold clothes to save his life. Everything he owned was shoved rumpled and haphazard into his drawers.
The hoodie was Ethan's. The latest to join the large pile off to her left, filled with shirts and jackets and various pants. Half would go home with him later today while the other half would undoubtedly find its way upstairs and into the set of drawers in the spare room that might as well stop being called 'spare' and just downright become Ethan's. He'd stayed in it several times prior to Unus Annus but he practically lived there now, so much so that in the upstairs bathroom Mark had squished all of his things off to one side of his shelf so that Ethan could take the other half.
Running her hands over the fabric, she wondered how long Mark and Ethan had been 'dating' without her (or, in fact, themselves) noticing.
She folded the hoodie and set it aside, picking up the next garment from the basket. She had it all folded away by the time the boys came back, round bellies against their fitted shirts, milkshakes in hand. They were practically hanging off each other, in the midst of arguing about what milkshake was superior. Ethan had a second milkshake in his hand and before she could ask if it was wise to have so much dairy after he'd spent the morning sumping coffee the younger man came bounding across to the couch, flopping carefully down at her side and handing over the second cup.
"Strawberry and matcha milkshake for my favourite Amy," he announced, beaming. She cooed and kissed his cheek and made a show of drinking the first sip appreciatively and Mark chuffed fondly from the doorway.
"Who's girlfriend are you, anyway?" he asked her good naturedly, gesturing to where she had Ethan tucked up against her side. Ethan stuck his tongue out and made a show of tucking his head down against her shoulder and she grinned up at Mark.
"The modern era is very progressive, you know. I could date both of you," she reasoned, her tone teasing but her mind lingering on the seriousness of her words. She'd thought about it before, of course, from her perspective. She loved Ethan already, much the way you loved family, and he was undeniably cute. It wouldn't take much for her to love him in a slightly different way.
Especially when she'd watched Mark fall in love first. When she saw what Ethan meant to the man she loved—what he did for him and the things that he offered. She also knew she'd be happy if Ethan remained as what he was—a valued member of her family and another person Mark had fallen in love with. She wasn't the type to be jealous - she couldn't be, not with dating someone like Mark, and so the notion of sharing her boyfriend didn't scare her.
"I'm not giving up my side of the bed. He can sleep on your left," Mark announced as he moved past them and into the kitchen. She wondered idly about the implications of him not even reacting to the notion of a throuple, though she knew not to give it too much weight. Mark had never really been the type of person to be insecure about himself or things like this; joking around about everything from the size of his penis to the relationships he had with his friends.
"Who says I wouldn't be in the middle?" Ethan pouted, head popping up momentarily as Mark came stepping back through. "What if I wanna be in the middle, huh? Did you ever think about that?"
Mark's brow raised slowly, a steady incline that hinted towards the double implication of the words. Her own cheeks flushed at the hint and the subsequent scenarios that flooded through her mind, reminding her that for all she'd thought about the possibility of Ethan and Mark, she hadn't quite got around to thinking about the sexual implications yet. What Mark and Ethan did between themselves was one thing, but the three of them...
"Fine, you big baby," Mark goaded, moving to the couch and sinking down next to Ethan, squishing him up between his body and Amy's, deliberately over-close and invasive. "Happy?" Mark drawled, arching a brow again as his arm came behind Ethan's head to settle his hand on Amy's shoulder, thumb rubbing lightly. Ethan shifted between them, slinging one leg over Mark's thigh and letting his head fall back to Amy's shoulder, just in front of Mark's hand. She could feel him shift his grip, adjusting so he could pet her shoulder and his hair at the same time.
"Happy," Ethan agreed with a blissful sigh, and Amy had to concur.
Two weeks later, they were all getting ice cream on the beach when Ethan's ice cream dripped down his chin in two thick streaks, melting rapidly in the summer heat while Amy paid.
"Here," Mark hummed, pressing his cone into Ethan's free hand and grabbing a napkin from the counter of the parlour and cupping Ethan's chin, lifting it and holding his head steady as he wiped him clean.
"You two are so cute together," the woman behind the counter remarked as she handed Amy her change, nodding at them. "I'm so glad we've all progressed to where you don't have to hide any more."
Amy glanced over her shoulder, watching Mark pause slightly where he was cleaning Ethan down gently, thumb rubbing idly at the line of his jaw. Ethan's gaze flit to her with the same pensive uncertainty it always did whenever someone insinuated he and Mark were anything more than platonic, as though each time he expected her to make a fuss about it or tell him to leave.
"Thank you," Mark spoke after a moment, turning his attention back to wipe the last of the melted dessert from Ethan's jaw before he let him go, patting his cheek lightly and tossing the napkin in a nearby trash can. Ethan's cheeks were pink and his gaze was fixed firmly on his own melting cone, no doubt taken aback by Mark's easy acceptance of an incorrect assumption. Amy supposed she could understand; Mark would usually deflect or correct, gentle or warm statements invalidating the assumption.
Lately, though... Lately he hadn't been bothering as much, and she wondered what that meant.
That night, he lay with his head on her stomach, her fingers idly carding through his hair when he spoke up. She'd almost thought he was asleep.
"Do Ethan and I really act like that?"
"Like what?" She hummed, forcing herself to open her eyes lest she fall asleep mid talk.
"Like a couple."
She paused, before she resumed the gentle motion. "Is this about the woman today?"
He gave a low sound, making a movement akin to a shrug. "That's a prominent talking point, sure. It was a simple act—but there must've been something overly intimate about it."
"Are you worried?" she asked lightly, and he rolled over so instead of looking down her legs he was looking up. Straight up her nostrils, presumably, so she shifted a bit more upright to look down at him.
"Does it bother you?" he asked, which was unusual for him. Mark wasn't typically one to skirt around answering when he was talking about something genuinely, and she shook her head without hesitation.
"My boyfriend's platonic relationships shouldn't bother me. You're entitled to intimacy and comfort and happiness outside of your romantic partner - and if that made me insecure or angry, I'd either need to analyse that and maybe get therapy or I'd need to find a partner who didn't want bonds outside of their significant other."
She paused again, trying to formulate a correctly pieced together response. This was clearly one of those things Mark wanted to pick apart, to analyse and put back together and she wanted to help him with that. "Your bond with Ethan is something special. I've never seen any two people grow as close as quickly as you two did. You... You fit together a certain way, and I think maybe you two were always meant to find each other."
"Like soulmates?" he sounded sceptical and she shrugged gently.
"Soulmates don't have to be romantic," she reminded him, stroking her thumb down the curve of his cheek. "But, maybe something along those lines, yes. Every individual has a personality that will fit and compliment someone else's, perhaps even better than the majority of others. And you and Ethan... Its almost like you were both coded for each other. Besides..."
He blinked up at her, so invested in her words, and she decided to go for it.
"I know we disregarded sexual polyamory pretty quickly—and I'm not exactly going back on that—but you and Ethan are so close and he's already such a big part of our lives... That besides the sex, I don't think all that much would actually change if you were together in a romantic sense."
He looked surprised and a little caught off guard, seemingly stopping himself from automatically disregarding it. She let him think on it for a moment before she spoke again.
"Sometimes... Love isn't complex. And all lovers start out as friends. I'm secure in our relationship; I know that you'll always be honest with me and I know that you'll never break my trust. I also know that Ethan makes you as happy as I do - even if its in a different way. And I know that if I was going to share your love with anyone, there's nobody I'd be more willing to do so with than him."
There was so much more she could say but there were also things that Mark had to think about for himself. Things that he had to approach from his own perspective, a destination she could only point him in the direction of then step aside, letting him get there alone.
Mark didn't bring it up again but she knew him well enough to know it was still at the forefront of his mind. She caught him looking at Ethan differently, caught him studying all of their interactions. At first he pulled away, but then he came back, if a little tentatively. Ethan seemed puzzled by it but didn't push anything, letting Mark have his space whenever he stepped away and welcoming him back with the same open arms when he got his head out of his ass.
It was after Ethan had gone home one day, a few weeks later, that he brought it up again.
"Have I really been dating him this whole time?" he didn't sound alarmed or surprised. Not even resigned, really. Like he'd left the central heating on while out or put on odd socks. She looked up from her Switch and offered him a gentle smile that seemed to tell him all he needed to know. He gave a curt nod, then took a breath.
"Okay. I think me and you should talk."
The next day after they wrapped up filming Mark sucked in a deep breath, rolled his shoulders and then approached Ethan with a steeled resolve.
"Hey, can you come with me a minute?" he asked, voice low. Ethan agreed without question, linking their fingers together automatically when Mark took him by the hand. Mark glanced at her as they passed and out of sight of Ethan she gave him a quick thumbs up to signal her support. Mark flashed her a brief, nervous smile and then the kitchen door swung shut behind them. She stifled her own curiosity and turned her attention to her Switch, doing her best not to listen to the muffled voices on the other side of the door.
Almost an hour passed and she shifted, cautious curiosity winning out alongside her need for a drink. Making sure to be open about her approach, she pushed the kitchen door.
They were kissing.
Like, really kissing. Mark has one hand on Ethan's jaw and the other pressed to the base of his spine to keep him close, licking into his mouth slowly. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised at how quick this had all moved; they had basically been dating for years already. They'd sort of just speed-ran the whole friendship aspect and then leapt straight into platonically dating and had then hit the brakes on anything else until now.
Ethan caught sight of her in the doorway and jolted, tearing himself away from Mark with a startled squeak. "Amy!"
Mark twisted a little to peer at her, eyes fond and bright, lips a little swollen.
"Oh, don't mind me," she grinned, stepping past them and opening the fridge. "I'm just getting some juice."
Mark let out a soft whuff of laughter and kept Ethan close, basking in the intimacy and preventing him from fleeing both. She pushed the fridge door closed and stepped up to them, giving them both a gentle kiss on the cheek.
"When you two manage to peel yourselves away from each other, come into the main room. Jeopardy is on."