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"Even," Isak gasps out, his shoulders aching, and he's got a final exam that he's supposed to study for to tonight—but he's out here, in the cold, Even's shoes tucked underneath his armpit as he tries to drag Even's slump body on the sidewalk, trying to get the both of them home safely.
Under the moonlight, even when drunk, Isak still thinks Even is one of the most beautiful people—if not, the most beautiful person he's ever seen. Even is lying on his stomach and Isak thinks Even's going to catch a cold first thing when he wakes up the next day. "Even." Isak tries again, desperation clinging on the edge of his voice.
Despite both of them arriving at the same party and having the same turns taking shots of vodka on a shot glass, it's worth noting that Even's alcohol tolerance was nowhere near Isak's. And now Isak regrets letting himself get dragged along by his best friend to Eva's going away party—except, he doesn't really mean that, because he would always allow Even to drag him along anywhere, even if it meant having his heart broken whenever he witnesses Even going around and flirting with other people at parties. Other people that's not Isak.
The situation is a lost cause. Even is nowhere near to being conscious with his mouth opened and drooling spit over the sidewalk, body comfortably laying on the pavement. As if the chilly air of November hasn't made itself known every breeze that passes by.
And Isak thinks he really should get to studying for that final exam that's going to take up at least 50% of his final grade; but he can't. Not when even is lying here like this, looking so alone and helpless. And drunk. Mostly drunk.
So Isak does what he does best. He dials a familiar number, biting his lip while pacing back and forth frantically, hair disheveled as he continuously runs his hand through it. He knows he's crossing a dangerous line here; one that he knows all too well as he's gone through this a hundred times already—calling up your ex-boyfriend to come fetch you and the boy that was the sole reason why the breakup had happened in the first place? Isak thinks that's not a common occurrence in the first place, but there's really not much of an option here that he could choose from.
"Come on, pick up," Isak mutters under his breath.
"Isak? Is everything okay?" Julian's voice has matured, he notices, one that feels all too familiar yet somehow still foreign to his ears even after all the months they spent together. It also seemed like he'd just woken up from a deep slumber; Julian's husky and grave voice filling his senses. He already regrets calling. Isak breathes deep, glances at Even's still sleeping figure, and sits on the step beside Even's feet, leaning back at the rails and exhales.
"Yeah, it's all good." Five, ten, fifteen seconds pass by with an unbearable silence sitting in between the line, and Isak thinks his ex has hung up, but Julian speaks up again.
"Okay? Did you need something?" Julian says slowly, and Isak hates it. Hates the condescending tone in his voice. Hates that even after their breakup, he's still here, calling his ex-boyfriend in hopes of picking him and Even up to take the both of them back to his apartment. He hates that Julian would still come running to him if he asked to because he's still in love with him, but he can't, Isak can't give back the same love he knows he doesn't very much deserve.
Isak licks his lips and hesitates. The words tumble right out of his mouth before he could stop them. "I was actually wondering if you could come pick me up just around the corner of Eva's street," he says. "Please." He adds weakly.
He's afraid Julian would laugh at him and tell him off for getting his hopes up again for the ninth time; but he doesn't. Sweet, caring, and kind Julian doesn't. As always. A beat passes.
"I'll be there." Julian finally mutters before hanging up.
Isak waits.
*
Julian arrives as Isak was squeezing even's ankle absentmindedly, a million thoughts running through his head at once. He doesn't notice him stopping to take a look at the scene before him, and Isak definitely misses the longing look that is plastered in Julian's face when he turns to look at him. Instead, confusion lies across his face.
Isak opens his mouth to speak when Julian beats him to it.
"I thought I was supposed to get you only?" Annoyance and irritation drips in his words, although Isak doesn't notice it once again with his eyes being focused on his best friend with his usually coif-styled hair now lied messy atop his head, long eyelashes kissing the top of his cheeks, pink plump lips parted, and he looks carefree. As if he wasn't sleeping on the sidewalk on a Thursday night while his best friend who has an upcoming test tends to him.
"Yeah, I forgot to mention I was with Even. Had a lot on my mind, sorry." His apology was nowhere as sincere as he wants it to be but Julian doesn't have to know that. He moves to stand up, crouching near Even's face and pats his cheek softly before standing up to bend and wind his arm around Even's. "Well don't just stand there. Help me out here." Isak huffs out, Julien scurrying around the other side and mimicking Isak's actions silently.
The travel from the sidewalk to the other side of the street where Julian's car was parked was crucial. Even's heavy body leaned against Isak's side and Isak shivers. He doesn't know if it's because of the proximity or if it was the night air seeping through his jacket. They get Even to the backseat, Isak tucking his best friend to get him to lie comfortably. He takes one last glance at his best friend sleeping peacefully as the light from the street lights illuminate his features clearly. He shuts the door and sits on the passenger's seat.
Julian eventually starts the engine after getting on the driver's seat, and the ride to their way home could not be more painful. The silence was definitely deafening, and, God, Isak can't wait to lie on his bed and sleep the night away and forget this night ever even happened.
Isak observes the streetlights, leaning his head on the window, a yearning and aching feeling in his chest blossoming and spreading itself all throughout his fingers to his toes. How did he get here, really? At what point did he think was it a good idea to pin and go after his best friend—his best friend who was loving and so caring that it pains him physically? Why did it have to come to this—this situation where another person had to get hurt because of his own feelings that he could not sort out himself? That it had to come to this where he had to discover it when he was a relationship with one of the most amazing people he's ever met? Although, he must've seen this coming—should've seen this coming when all those years ago he'd been nothing but avoidant of his growing feelings for Even. And now the situation's come to bite him in the ass.
Isak closes his eyes and breathes deeply. This isn't the right time to be thinking about this.
"You're thinking too loud." Isak's head snaps upward, eyes fleeting from the streetlights to what once was his lover. Julian's voice reverberates through the car, his voice flat, and if Isak dissects the situation a little better, he could assume there was an edge of humor to it, but he waves off the thought.
"Sorry," He mumbles. Julian casts him a glance once before returning his eyes to the road.
"Did you have fun?" Julian starts to what seems to be a poor attempt at conversation just to ease the silence floating around them.
"Huh?" Isak asks, confused, his mind far away. "Oh, the party? Yeah, I guess you could say that." He answers once it dawned on him.
"I never would've guessed you were a party guy. When we were still together I can't even drag you out with me to save my life." Humor is now definitely laced on the edges of Julian's voice, Isak detects, but his poor choice of words can't even begin to force a laughter out of him. "Poor joke, I'm sorry," His ex-boyfriend adds once the overbearing awkwardness envelopes their bubble.
Isak only hums.
After a while, he opens his mouth to speak.
"Why do you do this?"
"Do what?"
"This. Come to me still despite knowing how or why we ended," He breathes out as if the words had been lingering there on the tip of his tongue for God knows how long.
"You know the answer to that, Isak."
Isak only purses his lips and nods.
"What I don't get, though, is why you still keep coming to me when you know damn well how I still feel for you. Or why you only ever come to me when the circumstance involves you and Even."
And there it is. Isak knew this was bound to happen. Julian's words felt like a punch to the gut. a slap to the face. he'd been dreading for a time like this to come—where he'd be haunted by his ghosts. He just didn't think it'd be so soon. He only stays silent. Julian continues; however, his voice now back to being flat. Lacking emotions. Empty. And small.
"I just don't... get it, at all, is what I guess I'm trying to say. He can't love you like that, Isak—no, he doesn't love you like that. Why do you purposefully put yourself in situations where you know you're just going to get hurt, huh?"
Isak so desperately wants to counter and scream at Julian that you don't know that, Julian, you don't know Even like I do. But he knows. He knows Julian is right; he's just not willing to accept it to himself. He'd been so caught up in him and Even's bubble that second opinions about what he is to Even's life only resonate to him like noise.
He knows Even won't ever love him back. And it's okay.
They both let the words float around the air; afraid to speak up. The words hang around like chemicals, clouding Isak's thoughts and suffocating him in the process, so he rolls the window down and lets the cold air hit his face all throughout the ride.
Neither of them speak the rest of the way home.
*
Isak slams the car door shut, moving to open the door backseat and reveal his best friend still sleeping soundly. He could hear Even's breathing in the silence surrounding them; the rise and fall of his chest calming Isak down from his conversation with Julian just mere minutes go.
He taps Even's cheek softly in an attempt to wake the boy; but Even's far too gone in his dreamland to ever respond. And so he hoists even up by his armpits; lanky body leaning against frail ones, Julian rounding to where Isak is to assist him.
Their hands brush for a minute and Isak thinks he's going to die at this moment if he has to spend any more time with Julian.
They get Even safely to Isak's apartment, through the hallways softly lit by the barely working lamp and to his bedroom. Isak cards his fingers through Even's blonde locks before tucking him in into his bed.
It's become a common occurrence for them – for him, to have Even lie here on his bed every time they go out partying. And it shouldn't, but it's also become a common occurrence for him to contact his ex-boyfriend whenever something so familiar like this happens.
He takes one last, longing glance at Even's sleeping figure and shuts the door softly.
Julian is sitting on the couch by the time he gets there; dark bags coloring underneath his eyes, hair disheveled from him running his hand through it every minute, seemingly highly strung as Isak approaches him. Isak has only noticed it now when his mind isn't clouded anymore by Even, Even, Even.
"Thanks, Julian. For the ninth time. This will be the last, I promise." Isak says as he only stands by the foot of the couch, choosing to keep the distance between them reserved. Julian dryly chuckles.
"You say that all the time."
"Yeah, well..." The words get stuck in his throat. He doesn't even know if there was something to be let out to begin with; so he shuts off his mouth and shrugs nonchalantly.
"I'm sorry about what I said awhile ago. It was wrong of me to assume and burst out like that. Just – you know how much I still care about you, Isak; as a friend and as a person who had you once. I just can't bear to see you trip and make a fool out of yourself trying to get to Even when you know the feelings aren't all that mutual," It rubs off Isak the wrong way. Julian is overstepping his boundaries here—and it angers him, it makes something coil in his stomach, consuming his insides all at once.
If there's one thing he hates, it's that other people's attempts to dictate him on what he can and cannot feel; on what he should and shouldn't do.
"Get out," Isak hissed out. He can't bear to hear anything more from the other boy. Julian gets the message, debating whether he should say something more with the visible conflict he's having with his face, but decides against it. Julian leaves. Isak is all alone once again with his thoughts puddling around his feet while Even sleeps soundly in his bed.
*
"Good morning, sunshine!" A cheery and all-too familiar loud voice greets Isak when he barges into the kitchen. He rubs his eyes with his fingers, groaning.
"You can't just keep barging in here whenever you want to, Eskild," he deadpans before moving to where the coffee maker, not at all surprised to see the pot half-filled, courtesy of Eskild. He'd never admit it to Eskild but he's grateful for his presence, here, in his apartment. He doesn't know if he can be around Even alone after his conversation with Julian last night.
"Sure I can! Don't be such a party-pooper, Isak," Eskild chirps just as Isak groans once again at the mention of the word party. He retrieves a mug from the cabinet, filling it with coffee and takes a small sip. "Oops, touched a nerve there." Eskild laughs.
"Why are you even here anyway?" He asks begrudgingly. The warm liquid works its way down Isak throat. He breathes out through his nose to indicate that he was satisfied with Eskild's sentiment which doesn't go unnoticed by the ginger. Eskild only beams at him, thankful for the silent appreciation of his coffee.
"I was just stopping by to let you know that I heard from one of your little uni friends last night that your exam was rescheduled at a later date since I know you won't stop bitching about it at the party when you were drunk, so you can stop being grumpy now."
Shit. Right. The exam.
He puts down the mug hastily, groping his pockets to feel for his phone and the blood almost drains from his face when he notices it's not in either side of his pants. He scurries to the couch, his phone staring back at him in the crack of the said furniture. He opens the phone, and true to Eskild's word, his exam had been pushed to a later date as he scrolls through the group chat of their class. He retreats back to the kitchen, sighing in relief before picking the mug up again and sitting by the table across his friend. "Thanks, Eskild." Isak mumbles shyly.
"So. What's up?" Eskild asks after a moment of comfortable silence, smiling at him. And it wasn't the kind of smile that was welcoming nor warm; this was Eskild's smile when he wants to indicate that he knows something about Isak before Isak could even know about it. "What do you mean?" Isak narrows his eyes at the ginger, licking his coffee-stained cupid bow lip and frowns.
"I heard you called Julian last night," Eskild asks with a raise of his brow, the same smile still lingering in his lips. "Were you drunk or something?" he adds.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
The smile drops off Eskild's face and he rolls his eyes at Isak, clearly exasperated. There really is no escaping Eskild. "Don't-know-what-you're-talking-about my ass. Come on, spill!" Eskild says with eagerness, squeezing Isak's hands that were planted on the table.
"How'd you even find out about that? It hasn't even been 12 hours yet or something. Last time I checked, there wasn't even anyone outside at that time aside from us." Isak says with a frown still etched on his face.
"What can I say," Eskild says smugly, a playful smirk ghosting on his lips. "You underestimate your guru too much." The ginger leans back, smile still wide for Isak's liking. It was Isak's turn to roll his eyes now.
"Even's too heavy to carry, it was late so there basically were no trams available at that point, I had no other option but to call him up so he can bring Even and I's ass here. There. That's all." He says in a rush, leaving out the details of his argument with Julian.
Eskild disdained Julian. And that's saying a lot considering the fact that Eskild Tryggvason was not one to plant unnecessary anger where it isn't needed—always giving out smiles and joy at every person he encountered, never bothering to waste energy on things that didn't matter. But never Julian. He's never dared to change nor convince Eskild of his opinion on people as most of the time his assumptions about them were true and more so justified. He's never asked, either.
So the chances of him sharing that piece of information with Eskild are close to zero.
At the mention of Even's name, Eskild perks up. It was a bad idea. Eskild's never gonna let him live this down.
Eskild has known Isak's blooming feelings for Even ever since—way before Isak even knew them himself. He was dense like that.
"Again? How many times has this happened?"
Isak groans. "I don't know, Eskild, and if I did, I'm not telling you anything either way."
"Mhm. Sure. Keep your secrets, baby Jesus," Isak buries his face in his hands as Eskild continues. "And also—Even? Where even is that lanky best friend of yours if you two went home together?" He misses the teasing tone on Eskild's voice.
"Bedroom," He grunts out, missing the implication that could squeeze itself in Eskild's mind before he could even process out the thought. "Oh? About time you finally did something about your pining." Eskild rarely gets surprised—but this one specifically he shows the shock in his face.
"What—no! Not like that! Jesus Christ," Blood rushes from his neck to the tip of his ears, and by the looks of Eskild's expression, he's ninety percent sure he looks like a tomato by now.
"I let him sleep there, okay! Again, he was drunk. Basically unconscious. And I slept on the couch." He huffs out. He doesn't even know why he's explaining this to anyone—let alone Eskild.
Eskild could only smile slyly and nods. "Okay, whatever you say, lover boy."
"Who's a lover boy?" The familiar feeling of want and need forms in the pit of Isak's stomach at the sound of the newcomer's voice vibrating through the walls. He flushes, Eskild's implications earlier finding their way in Isak's brain once more.
Eskild claps in delight, his smile bigger than ever. Isak was going to kill him.
"Even! So nice of you to finally join us," Isak doesn't have to turn around to know that Even's eyebrows are currently furrowed, confusion displayed on his pretty face. Isak would always know. He knows Even like the back of his hand.
Isak sometimes thinks he knows Even more than he knows himself.
"Hello to you too, Eskild," Even seems like he's amused now. Isak hears the clanging of utensils as Even moves around Isak's kitchen on his back. He hears water running from the tap. It stops.
Even plops down on the chair next to him, his blinding smile radiating across the entire apartment as if he didn't pass out last night and have Isak drag his huge body.
"So! What were you two talking about? Who's this lover boy I'm hearing?" Even flickers his eyes back and forth to both men—one amused and one in conflict with himself. Eskild was about to answer when Isak beat him to it. "No one," he squeaks out. Embarrassing.
"No one." He reiterates, his normal voice returning once he clears his throat. Even only gives him a side-eye, the corners of his mouth curling upwards.
"Okay. Whatever you say, Isak." Isak shudders. He'd always loved hearing Even say his name. It felt different—like it might actually mean something to Even as much as it did to him; but he thinks it's all in vain. Even can't—no—won't possibly return his feelings.
Even and Eskild chat away, leaving Isak once again to his own thoughts.
He has to do something about this—about his feelings with Even. This push and pull with Even has gone on for as long as he can remember. From shy, hesitant touches, friendly cuddles that get Isak riled up whenever Even's lips brush against his forehead ever so delicately with or without intending to, to silent and comfortable coffee and library 'dates' at 1 in the morning. He knows there isn't a chance; he knows Even won't ever look at him the same way nor reciprocate what he feels. But. It's not completely a definitive answer if they haven't directly come out of Even's mouth, right?
Tomorrow, he thinks. He'll bask in this—in the peace and quiet with Even for the next 24 hours. He'll worry about the rest later.
*
"Get off me, you goon!" Isak yelps, grunting as Even's elbow jabs on his chest; carrying Even's entire weight on his body.
"Not until you take back what you said about Baz Luhrmann!"
They both decided to skip school that day with Even's hangover still looming around and Isak... well, he didn't have an excuse, per se, but he felt that he'd grab this opportunity to process Julian and Eskild's words.
Eskild had pulled him aside, away from Even, when he insisted Isak walk him out of his apartment. Isak started to protest but decided against it when Eskild shot him a look. Even had offered to walk Eskild out as well, but the ginger only waved him off and pushed him to the living room. Even had laughed at that.
Once outside, Isak was about to interject about Eskild's shenanigans; deeming it unnecessary to bring the conversation outside if it would only involve university or friends. But he'd been wrong. He should've known when Eskild told Even off to 'just rewatch your Romeo and Juliet or something!'
"Okay—I know, I know—I normally wouldn't be giving you advice about stuff like this, Isak, but I think you should hear it anyway. This pining that you have for Even is becoming unhealthy and increasingly agitating. Not for us, but for you," Eskild pauses, taking in the look painted on Isak's face: confusion, curiosity, irritation.
He continues. "You barely eat whenever Even hooks up with someone at parties he drags you at. You think I don't notice but I know when you're purposefully starving yourself to, I don't know, create this image of you that Even would want. You sabotage potential relationships you could be having because of your unresolved issues with Even and yourself; and I'm not going to just sit here while you waste your life around going after this boy who doesn't even want you back."
Isak winces at Eskild's words. This time, he feels like he's been stabbed repeatedly with a dull knife.
Eskild sighs in defeat. "Figure your shit out, Isak, please. I just want what's best for you. And I know you've created this version of Even in your head—but the Even that's in your mind is different from the Even that is here physically."
Isak hates it. Hates that despite moving into an apartment away from the kollektivet where he once lived with Eskild, Noora, and Linn, Eskild can still read him like an open book. He hates that Eskild knows how his mind works, how he operates.
Eskild had left shortly after that, squeezing him into a much-needed tight hug.
Him and Even are now in a tangled mess on the carpet, gangly limbs and sticky skins pressing against each other as the sun continues to shine through the window.
"In your dreams, Næsheim." Using all the energy and force he has left in his arms, he pushes Even off of him, the taller boy thudding on the floor. Even sits up, a pout forming on his plump lips.
Isak thinks they look so kissable. He wants to lean in and take Even's lips in his. But he doesn't. Instead, he stifles a laugh and leans back on the couch, returning to his original position before Even had attacked him for something he said about the older's favorite director.
Even, on the other hand, copies his move, sitting on the spot next to Isak. They stare at each other side by side, puffy breaths and the faint sounds of the movie playing in the television plays in the background.
He takes in Even. All of Even. His eyes as green as the forest, pink lips parted, his nose carved to perfection, freckles scattering across his cheeks and nose. Isak thinks nothing could ever compare to his best friend's beauty. Not even all of his exes combined.
In the midst of the quiet, Eskild's words come rushing back to him. Before he could stop himself, the words flow out of his mouth like tidal waves.
"Do you wanna know something?" He whispers, afraid to break the serene atmosphere between them.
Although he thinks it'd all be useless anyway, because what he's about to confess is nothing close to being serene.
Even hums, eyes still focused on Isak.
"I'm in love with my best friend." He says, swallowing thickly. He could feel his stomach flipping, the coffee he'd had earlier climbing up his throat.
Even's expression is unreadable. It leaves him at the edge of his seat, eager to know what's going on in Even's mind.
Even opens his mouth to speak before closing them again. Isak would laugh at the sight before him—would tease Even endless as he looks more and more like a fish closing and opening his mouth like that, but with given their current situation, he doesn't.
He could only wait, scared.
His heart drops at the pit of his stomach when Even finally speaks.
"I can't." Even whispers back, his voice cracking.
Everything he'd imagined—everything Isak had gone through in his mind comes down to him in a flash. He feels as if he'd been pushed off a freezing lake. He feels as if a bucket of cold water had been poured on him, everything he is and has getting wet in the process.
He looks away, eyes brimming with tears. He knows. Of course, he knows. He should've expected this.
He stands up, heart thrumming in his chest, and he feels cold all of a sudden now that Even's body heat isn't enveloping him. And it's sad; because this is the reality that he now has to accept. A life without Even after he confessed his love with Romeo+Juliet playing in the background, pieces of his heart scattered on the floor of his apartment.
"You should go," He mumbles weakly. He doesn't wait for Even's response. He drags himself to his bedroom—away from Even, away from rejected love confessions, away from misunderstood actions and words.
He'd been so stupid. He should've seen this coming.
Isak cries himself to sleep that night. He dreams of Even.