Chapter Text
“What the hell?” Henry slammed his fist on the armrest, breathing heavy.
“I was landing hit after hit—and you still won. You must be hacking.”
Drew leaned back, half-smirking. “If I was hacking, I’d let you win.” His voice was casual, but his eyes flicked over Henry’s tense posture.
“Rematch.” Henry’s jaw clenched; the word came out low and sharp.
Drew shook his head without looking away from the screen. “I don’t get why you keep going—you know I’ll beat you.” Henry ignored him as he started up a new game.
It was a typical Friday night. Drew, Henry, and Liam were having a sleepover—something they did often whenever their schedules aligned. It was nearly midnight, and the only light in Drew’s dark room came from the soft blue glow of the TV screen and the moonlight spilling through the window. Super Smash Bros was their go-to.
Drew usually bowed out early, not wanting to wreck his sleep schedule. But tonight, Henry and Liam had somehow convinced him to stay up.
"What are you guys up to?"
Liam walked in, a white towel draped over his shoulders, his brown locs still damp from his shower. He smelled faintly of lavender.
"Smash Bros," Drew and Henry replied in unison, eyes locked on the screen.
"Cool."
Liam dropped onto the bed, relaxing for a moment before frowning. He scanned the room.
"Have you guys seen my phone?"
He stood up, patting the sheets, checking under the bed. A hint of panic crept into his voice.
"Nope," Henry replied.
Drew shook his head, too focused to answer verbally.
"Just use mine to call it," Drew said, handing his phone to Liam without looking up.
"Oh—right. Good idea."
Liam grabbed it and left the room.
Drew’s house was huge—almost too big. Liam sighed as he walked through its long, quiet hallways. His phone could’ve ended up in any of the dozen rooms scattered across the place.
Thankfully, after retracing his steps, he found it ringing on the bathroom counter.
"Thank God," he muttered, grabbing it.
Just as he turned to head back, Drew’s phone buzzed in his hand with a new notification.
Liam hesitated.
He knew he shouldn’t look. But his curiosity was louder than his conscience.
Just a quick glance.
He tapped on the message, it read.
"Drew, please answer me. Listen, I know your upset with me but why can't we just talk this out? I was wrong about not telling you about Zoey sooner. And I was wrong about spending all my time with the music club and ditching you, Liam, and Henry. I want to make it up to you. Please could we Talk soon?"
Liam didn't really know what to make of the message, until his eyes wandered up to see who the message was from.
It was from Jake.
Liam blinked. His stomach dropped.
He stared at the name for a moment, as if confirming it.
Jake.
Liam didn’t know what to feel—annoyed? Protective? Jealous?
Jake had ditched them for a club he barely knew. He never gave a proper explanation. Liam had wanted one… but over time, he’d accepted that some answers never came.
The fallout between Jake and Drew had happened almost three months ago. and apparently Jake never stopped texting. You'd think after three months of no answer you'd get the message and just move on, but Jake seemed really desperate.
Liam just wanted to block him. He wanted to just forget about Jake and everything that had happened. Of course, he wanted to hear jake out, he never finished explaining himself, but what was there to explain? Jake had just ditched them for a club he barely knew, it was fucked up. And that's all there was to it, really.
Now that Liam could really think about it Drew had lost Zoey and Jake in the same day. Sure, Zoey was only using him. And yeah, Jake acted like a real asshole.
But what other feeling could you muster up other than longing, and despondency? Liam hadn't really missed Zoey, but he had missed Jake. And just because he did doesn't mean that drew felt the same way. Liam knew it probably wasn't a good idea to keep going through Drew's phone, but he just couldn't help himself.
Not after seeing that message.
Liam tapped the screen and swiped he eyes squinting due to the white light that illuminated his face in the dark hallway. He clicked on the camera app and swiped through Drew's camera roll. There wasn't much in Drew's camera roll other than photos of expensive looking food and an endless hole of selfies of himself.
"This is stupid, I shouldn't be doing this anyway. Its none of my business." Liam said, his tone exasperated.
He was about to close the phone until he stumbled an unnamed photo album.
He opened it.
Photos of Drew and Jake filled the screen.
Liam's chest tightened.
If Drew really hated Jake like he always claimed, why did he still have these?
Memories of Drew loudly declaring how “over it” he was suddenly felt hollow.
Maybe he hadn’t moved on.
Maybe he just didn’t want them to know.
Liam clenched the phone, his cheeks heating up. He shouldn’t care. But he did. He shouldn’t feel jealous. But he was.
He knew Drew and Jake had been close—closer than anyone, really. But he couldn't help but wish those pictures had been of him and Drew instead.
Liam and henry would usually try their best not to bring up jake or even hint at it, with Drew around anyway.
But if they did Drew would just go on and on about how he was "Happy" that Jake was gone, or he would constantly say he "hated" him. If all that were true, would he really have a photo album of just him and jake together? It made Liams stomach churn. A fire burned in his throat, and his cheeks flared up.
Why was he getting jealous over this? It's not like Liam would be mad at Drew if he wasn't over Jake. But he couldn't help but stare at the photos wishing it were him and Drew instead. To be fair Drew had known Jake for almost three years. His breakup with Zoey was probably affecting him as well.
Liam just couldn't blame him.
"What are you doing?"
Liam flinched, dropping the phone he was holding and gasped. Drew stood on the other side of the hallway his expression confused, but it almost felt like he also felt frustrated. Liam couldn't pinpoint it. Drew had always been hard to read.
"Were you going through my phone?" Drew said, slowly stepping closer.
"Uh, no. I was just- Your phone was going off, so I was just turning it off." Liam winced at how bad that sounded.
"For fifteen minutes?" Drew's eyebrow raised, clearly not convinced.
"Exactly." A bead of sweat trickled off of Liam's forehead.
They Just stared at each other for a few seconds. Maybe it was because Liam had been so clearly caught, and he was lying straight through his teeth. Or maybe it was because Liam knew that Drew had been lying about how he felt, and he knew that Liam knew. Or maybe it's because Liam's jealously was skyrocketing because of some photos and all he wanted was for Drew to deny it all and say he had just forgot to delete them.
But it was probably because they were unbelievably close, and Liam could feel Drew's breath on his neck.
Yeah, that was definitely it.
"I- um, Drew, can we-"
“Can I have my phone?” Drew cut him off, voice tight. “I kind of need it.”
“Right. Yeah. Sorry.”
Liam handed Drew his phone his hands slightly shaking. Drew turned around and started walking back to his room stopping briefly to look over his shoulder and at Liam.
"Me and Henry are about to watch a movie, are you coming or are you going to sit in a dark hallway like a dumbass?"
"I wasn't- yeah, yeah very funny." Liam said, walking slightly faster to catch up with Drew "What Movie are we watching?"
"The new cringey Lettuce Chan movie, I think you can guess who suggested it." Drew spoke, his hands going through his magenta locs.
"Lettuce Chan isn't that bad."
"Sure, dude."
The room was quiet now, save for the cheesy soundtrack of the movie.
Liam and Drew sat across from each other on the bed. Henry was in the middle, laser-focused on the screen.
Liam tried to concentrate, but his mind wouldn’t stop spinning. The photos. The message. The way Drew looked at him earlier. Why did it all bother him so much?
He was lost in thought when Drew’s voice cut in:
“You’re not even watching.”
Liam blinked.
“Oh—I was just—”
“It’s fine. I don’t blame you. This movie sucks.”
“This movie does not suck!” Henry protested without looking away.
“It’s the sequel to the original Lettuce Chan series, which hasn’t been updated since 2001!”
Drew rolled his eyes. “Okay, nerd. No one asked for a history lesson.”
Henry nudged him with a grin. “Shut up, dude!”
Liam laughed faintly but quickly fell quiet again, his eyes flicking to Drew.
Should he bring it up now? The photos? The message?
A part of him wanted to let it go.
Another part needed to know the truth.
------------------------------
The movie had ended, and henry was passed out on the middle of the bed. loudly snoring with his phone still in his hands playing a random video.
Drew sat on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed, scrolling through his phone. Liam hadn’t moved from his spot. He kept his eyes on the ceiling, arms crossed, mind racing.
He knew he couldn’t pretend nothing happened. Not after everything he saw. Not after the way Drew looked at him earlier—like he knew what Liam had done.
The silence stretched, only broken by the quiet hum of the fan in the corner.
Finally, Liam spoke.
"You still miss him, don't you?"
Drew looked up from his phone.
"What?"
"Come on Drew. You know I went through your phone. " Liam said, clearly not buying the confused act. Drew knew more than what he usually let on.
"You-what? I-"
Drew just sighed.
"I don't really miss Zoey anymore." Drew swallowed, hard.
"I wasn't asking about Zoey, Drew."
Liam's brows furrowed. His red eyes practically burning through Drew.
"You know I meant Jake."
Drew didn’t answer right away. He looked down at the floor, his fingers curling slightly around the edge of the rug.
The fan continued its steady hum. Henry let out a loud snore and mumbled something in his sleep, shifting under the blanket. But the weight in the room didn’t budge.
Liam sat forward now, elbows resting on his knees, voice quieter but sharper.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Drew’s jaw flexed.
“It’s not that simple,” he finally said, his voice low.
“It never is.” Liam exhaled, bitter.
“But you kept every picture. You read his messages. You didn’t even block him, Drew.”
Drew finally looked up, and there was something raw in his expression.
“What do you want me to say, Liam? That I don’t think about him?
Liam stared, his throat tight.
“I want you to be honest. For once.”
Drew’s silence didn’t feel gentle. It felt like a wall slamming shut. Liam’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. He stood there, waiting for something—anything—but Drew wouldn’t meet his eyes. He turned slightly, like he was going to walk away, but Drew finally spoke—quietly, almost like it hurt.
“I didn’t mean to keep the pictures.”
Liam froze.
“Then why did you?”
Drew hesitated. His mouth opened, then closed. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.
“Because part of me still remembers what it felt like before everything went to shit.” He looked up, voice trembling now.
Liam scoffed, blinking hard. “You mean before he chose the music club over us?”
Drew didn’t deny it. He just looked tired—tired in that way where anger had long since burned out and only the ashes were left.
“I don’t know how to just shut that part of me off, Liam.”
“I’m not asking you to forget,” Liam said.
"Then what are you asking me to do? to just get over it within seconds to please you? Thats just not how it works Liam." Drew said his voice cracking mid-sentence continuously blinking to stop tears from escaping his glossy eyes.
"Thats not what I- Drew." Liam looked down and sighed.
It was silent again. Another silence. A different kind. The kind that happens when two people finally realize how much they’ve been bleeding in front of each other.
Drew didn’t reach for him. Liam didn’t move forward. Neither of them knew how.
But they were both still standing there.
And maybe that meant something.
Then Liam finally spoke.
"You just keep hiding behind this... scared, emotionally unavailable version of yourself like it makes you untouchable.”
Drew’s eyes flashed up.
“I’m not hiding—”
“Yes, you are.”
Liam took a step closer, the space between them electric and unbearable.
“You’re hiding because if you actually let yourself feel something real again, you’ll have to admit that Jake wasn’t the only one who hurt people.”
That landed like a punch.
Drew’s breath hitched.
Liam blinked rapidly, eyes glassy, but he refused to cry. Not here. Not now.
“You think I don’t know what that photo album means? You think I don’t see the way you flinch when Jake's name comes up, or how your whole mood shifts like you're still stuck in that day he walked away?”
He laughed, bitterly.
“Jake wrecked you. Fine. But what’s me and Henry's crime? Still being here?”
Drew shook his head slowly, like he wanted to say something, but couldn't. His lips parted, then closed. Again.
“Say something,” Liam whispered. “Please. Say something.”
And then—
“I’m not over him.”
There it was. The air shattered.
Liam stepped back like he’d been slapped. For a second, he forgot how to breathe. Drew looked like he hated himself for saying it. But he didn’t take it back. He couldn’t.
Liam nodded slowly, jaw clenched, the pain clawing its way up his throat
“Okay,” he said. “That’s all I needed to know.”
He turned toward the door.
“Liam—”
“Don’t.”
Liam's voice broke—finally, the cracks showed.
“Don’t ask me to keep pretending when you’re only just figuring things out."
Drew stood frozen, like the words had pinned him to the floor.
“I just can't.”
Liam opened the door. The hallway outside was dark and quiet, the kind of quiet that felt miles away from where he used to feel safe.
He stepped through it anyway.
And this time, Drew didn’t follow.
------------------------------
The room was dim now, the TV long since gone black. The only sound was the low hum of the fan and the occasional car rolling past outside.
Henry stirred, snorting softly as he shifted and blinked himself awake.
He rubbed his eyes, the blue light from his phone still glowing faintly in his hands.
“…What time is it?” he mumbled, voice gravelly with sleep.
He sat up, stretching, then glanced around.
“Where’s Liam?”
Silence.
Drew didn’t answer. He was still on the floor, back against the bed, staring blankly at his phone screen—though he wasn’t really looking at anything.
Henry blinked again, more awake now.
“Dude.” He nudged Drew’s arm with his foot.
“Where’s Liam?”
Drew exhaled slowly through his nose. “He left.”
Henry’s brows furrowed.
“Wait… what? It’s like 3 a.m. What happened?”
Drew’s jaw tensed. He let out a soft, shaky exhale but still wouldn’t meet Henry’s eyes.
“We argued.”
“About what?”
“…Stuff.”
Henry narrowed his eyes.
He’d known Drew long enough to know what that tone meant—dodging, defensive, shutting down.
“What kind of ‘stuff’ makes your best friend leave a sleepover at three in the morning?”
Drew stayed quiet.
And that silence said more than any lie would have.
Henry swung his legs off the bed and sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His voice was quieter now.
“Drew… seriously. Talk to me. You’ve been acting weird for months. I didn’t push because I figured you needed space. But I’m not blind. Neither is Liam.”
Drew gave the smallest shake of his head.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah, it kinda does,” Henry said, sharper now.
“You say nothing’s wrong, but you barely eat when we hang out, you don’t laugh at my jokes—which are objectively hilarious by the way—and now Liam’s gone. What the hell are you holding onto that’s more important than us?”
Drew’s head finally tilted back against the bedframe. He stared at the ceiling, blinking hard. His voice came out quiet, rough.
“I’m tired, man.”
“Of what?”
A pause.
“Everything.”
Henry's stomach dropped a little.
“…Is this about Jake?” he asked cautiously.
Drew flinched—just barely—but it was enough.
Henry sat still, carefully watching him now.
“You never talk about it. About him. We all just kind of… pretended he didn’t exist after he ditched us. But you—” He stopped himself. “You never really said how you felt.”
Drew gave a breathy laugh—dry and humorless.
“What was I supposed to say?” he muttered.
“That it felt like he ripped something out of me and never gave it back?”
Henry blinked. He wasn’t expecting that.
“…Drew.”
“It wasn’t just the friendship, okay?” Drew said suddenly, more edge in his voice now.
“It was everything. Jake knew me. All of me. And I thought that mattered. But I guess it didn’t.”
Henry leaned back slightly, taking it in.
He was quiet for a moment. Then, gently:
“You ever talk to Liam about that?”
Drew’s eyes flicked toward the door, then back down.
“No.”
“Why not?”
Drew’s voice cracked when he spoke again.
“Because I think I’m already too late.”
Henry didn’t respond right away.
Then he sighed, stood, and sat down on the floor next to Drew.
They didn’t look at each other.
Henry leaned back against the bed, shoulder barely brushing Drew’s.
“You’re not too late,” he said quietly.
“You're just not ready to face it yet."
Drew swallowed hard. Didn’t deny it.
They sat in silence for a while after that.
And for once, Drew didn’t push it away.
Liam sat on the curb outside Drew’s house, elbows on his knees, hoodie pulled over his head like it might hide him from the weight pressing on his chest.
The street was dead silent, just the faint buzz of a streetlamp flickering overhead. Every few seconds, a car passed in the distance, headlights slicing briefly through the dark before vanishing again.
His phone buzzed. He ignored it.
He didn’t even check if it was Drew.
He couldn’t.
Not yet.
He dragged a hand down his face and let out a frustrated exhale, short and bitter. Why did it hurt this much? He hadn’t even said what he wanted to say. Barely got any answers. But it still felt like his heart had been tossed in a blender.
The photos.
The messages.
Jake’s name glowing on Drew’s screen like a ghost Liam didn’t ask to see.
He knew he shouldn't have gone through Drew’s phone. He knew. But what hurt more wasn’t the guilt—it was what he found.
The way Drew looked at that screen and didn't deny any of it.
Like maybe Jake still mattered.
Like maybe Liam never had a chance to.
Liam gritted his teeth and kicked a loose pebble into the street.
“Stupid,” he muttered. “So fucking stupid.”
He didn't even know what he was angry at. Drew? Jake? Himself?
Maybe all of it.
He had told himself it was over months ago—that whatever Drew and Jake had, it was dead and buried. Liam had done everything to be there for Drew since then. Stayed close. Tried to make him laugh again. Tried to understand him even when he had shut down and changed the subject.
He didn’t ask for much.
Just for him to care. Even a little.
Liam pulled his knees up, resting his forehead against them.
His eyes burned.
He hadn't even cried in while, but right now it felt like something in him was breaking open and there was no stopping it.
And the worst part?
He didn’t even know what he wanted from Drew.
An apology?
A confession?
for him to say, “yes, I still think about him”?
Or “no, Liam, it was always you”?
Anything would’ve been better than that silence.
That horrible, empty silence where everything Liam feared sat unspoken between them.
His phone buzzed again.
This time, he glanced at the screen.
It was Drew.
Just one word:
“Please.”
Liam stared at it for a long time.
His thumb hovered over the screen, torn between replying or throwing the phone into the street.
“Please.”
One word.
One syllable.
It shouldn’t have meant anything. But it cracked something in him.
Why now? Why couldn’t Drew have said more before? When they were still in the same room, still looking each other in the eye? Why did it take him walking out for Drew to say anything that felt real?
The wind was starting to pick up. The sky had clouded over without him noticing, and the air smelled faintly of rain. A chill slid under the edge of his hoodie and made him shiver.
He thought about how warm it was inside. How Drew was probably pacing in that dark hallway, phone clutched in his hand, knowing he messed up but not knowing how to fix it.
And maybe that was the problem.
Drew always waited too long.
Liam’s jaw tightened.
He picked up a small stick from the grass and started drawing lines in the dirt beside the curb. He hated this feeling—this in-between. Like his body wanted to move but his heart was nailed down to the sidewalk.
What would happen if he went back inside?
Maybe Drew would explain.
Maybe he'd open up, finally.
Or maybe he’d just close off again, like he always did. Shrug and joke, deflect everything until Liam couldn’t breathe from all the pretending.
Could Liam handle that again?
The front door creaked behind him.
Liam didn’t look.
He heard hesitant steps—slow, uncertain. Like the person wasn’t sure if they were even allowed to be out here.
It was Drew. Of course it was.
He didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there.
Liam kept his eyes forward.
“I didn’t know how to say it,” Drew finally said. His voice was quiet. Careful. “Inside, when you asked me about Jake.”
Liam didn’t move.
“I still don’t. Not really.”
A pause. A breath.
“But you’re right. I didn’t delete the photos. I didn’t block his number. And I don’t know what that says about me. About what I’m holding on to.”
Liam clenched his jaw. “So you’re still in love with him.”
“No.” Drew sat down slowly on the curb, a few feet away. Close, but not touching. “It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like?” Liam snapped, finally turning his head to look at him. His voice cracked. “Because I’ve been here. I’ve been right here this whole time. And you never look at me like you looked at him in those photos.”
Drew flinched. His eyes dropped.
“I didn’t think you wanted me to.”
That hit Liam harder than he expected. He stared at Drew, searching his face for some kind of lie—but there wasn’t one. Just this quiet, exhausted honesty that made Liam want to scream and cry at the same time.
“I didn’t think I was allowed to want you like that,” Drew continued. “Not after how things fell apart. Not after Jake, and Zoey, and all the stupid shit that happened.”
“And what now?” Liam asked, voice barely above a whisper. “What do you want now?”
Silence.
Then:
“I want you to come back inside.”
Not an answer. But maybe the beginning of one.
Liam looked up at the sky. The first few drops of rain were starting to fall, soft and cold against his skin.
He let them hit his face for a moment longer before sighing and getting to his feet.
He didn’t say anything as he turned toward the house.
But he didn’t walk away either.
He just stood there, waiting. For Drew.
And Drew followed.
They step into the dim room; the movie credits long gone. Henry is laying on the bed, curled under a quilt, playing some kind of mobile video game. The white noise from the fan seems louder now that Liam and Drew are there, filling the space between them.
Drew closes the door quietly behind them. He doesn’t sit on the bed—just stands with his back to the wall, arms crossed tight.
Liam hesitates just inside the doorway. Henry sits up, confused.
Henry blinks.
“Drew? Liam? Dude, you two look like you just survived a tornado.”
Liam steps forward, softer now.
“Henry… sorry, man. You, okay?”
Henry sits up, rubbing at his eyes. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just couldn't fall back asleep.” He glances between them. “You two—everything alright?”
Drew exhales, pushing off from the wall. “We need to be honest now. Like no more hiding stuff.”
Henry drops his blanket, tugs back his legs. “Okay… spill.”
Liam Speaks First. He moves to sit on the edge of the bed, eyes meeting Drew’s.
“Three months ago.” Liam begins, voice tight. “Jake stopped answering. Drew stopped talking about him. And I—I was here the whole time, trying to be there. But tonight I saw messages. Photos. Things I wasn’t supposed to see.”
Henry’s eyes widen, confused.
Liam continues, softer:
“I was angry because I saw him texting your phone—Jake texting—and then you stayed calm. And I saw those album photos… and you never deleted them.”
A heavy silence follows. Henry stares at Drew, clearly feeling out of the loop.
Drew runs a hand through his magenta hair, voice low.
“Yeah. You saw Jake’s message. You saw the pictures. Truth is—there are parts of us that never went away.”
He lifts his gaze from the floor. “Liam, I’m not over Jake. I’m not over losing him. But I thought… I thought I had moved on. I thought I could do that and still… not mess everything up.”
Henry stays quiet, absorbing it all.
Henry stands now, perched where Liam was. “Wait, hold on—you still have feelings for Jake? Like… more than just missing him?”
Drew nods, swallowed:
“Sometimes. But it doesn’t feel real anymore. It’s not him I’m grieving. It’s the version of us I never got back.”
Henry looks between them. “And Liam… this is why you stormed outside?” He glances at Liam.
Liam nods.
“Yeah. Because I didn’t even know where I stood.” He turns to Drew. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Drew exhales slowly. “I didn’t know how. I thought if I said anything, I’d lose everything—maybe even whatever chances were left.”
Liam’s posture shifts, hurt softening to something more open. “I can't keep guessing, Drew.”
Henry runs a hand through his green locs. “None of us can keep pretending this is just about Smash Bros. or sleepovers. Something changed.”
Drew looks at him. Vulnerable.
“Yeah.”
Liam stands, steps closer, voice quiet. “I can't wait forever.” It’s said gently, but firmly.
Drew nods.
“Then come closer.”
Tension softens visibly. Henry exhales too, relief mixed with something like grief.
Henry starts gathering the blankets and pillows.
“You two… sort it. Here. I’m peacekeeping—don’t make a mess, or I’m out.”
He leaves the two of them in Drew’s room, closing the door softly behind him.
Silence fills the space again, but this time it isn’t heavy. It’s full.
Drew and Liam move toward the bed, tentative. Standing a few feet apart.
Drew speaks first, voice shakier than before. “I want to be done hiding. With him. With… everything.”
Liam nods, heart beating loud in his chest.
“Okay.”
Then they move closer—hesitantly, uncertain, but together.
The room is still. Outside, the wind brushes faintly against the windowpane. The hum of the fan keeps time with Liam’s racing heartbeat.
Drew sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, fingers laced. Liam stands near him, shifting his weight like he’s not sure whether to stay or run again.
Liam speaks first.
His voice is tight, like he’s holding something down that's been clawing to get out.
“You know what the worst part is?” Drew looks up. His eyes are tired. Bracing.
“It’s not even that you still have feelings for Jake. It’s that I kept hoping you didn’t.”
Liam laughs softly—bitter and vulnerable all at once.
“I kept sitting next to you, walking beside you, listening to you talk about everything except how you felt. And I thought maybe—maybe you didn’t say anything because you were scared too.”
Drew’s throat works around words he can’t form yet.
Liam steps forward, the distance between them shrinking with every breath.
“I know it’s wrong. I know I went through your phone, and that’s screwed up. But I needed to know if I was the only one feeling this way. And it sucks, because I think I knew the answer the second I saw those photos.”
His voice cracks just slightly.
“I like you, Drew. I’ve liked you for a long time. And I don’t know what to do with that. I’m not asking you to say it back. I just—I had to say it, or it was going to eat me alive.”
Silence follows. It hangs in the air like fog, like heat, like tension.
Then Drew stands up.
Slowly.
He takes one step toward Liam. Then another. They’re inches apart now. The tension between them is magnetic.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Drew says, voice quiet.
“Why didn’t you ask?” Liam shoots back, voice just as low, just as raw.
They’re breathing the same air now. Liam’s pulse is pounding in his ears. Drew’s eyes drop to his lips, then flicker back to his eyes.
And then—
Drew kisses him.
It’s not neat. It’s not polished. It’s shaky, unsure, years of things unsaid poured into one short, urgent moment.
But Liam kisses him back—immediately, wholly, like he’s needed this to breathe.
When they part, Drew’s hand lingers on Liam’s jaw, thumb brushing over his cheek like he’s grounding himself there.
Liam stares at him, stunned and breathless.
“You still like him,” he says quietly, not pulling away.
Drew nods once. Honest. Heavy.
“Yeah. But I don’t want him.”
His voice breaks on the last word.
“I want you.”
Liam exhales like it’s the first real breath he’s taken all night. He leans in again—this time slower. And they kiss again, softer. Not desperate. Just real.
The sound of Henrys video game filters in faintly from outside.
neither of them says anything.
They just stay there—quiet, close, and not alone anymore.
The kiss lingers between Drew and Liam like static in the air. Neither of them speaks for a long moment.
Then, from behind them—
“...Did I miss something?”
Liam jerks back, his eyes wide.
Henry is sitting up in bed, hair messy, rubbing his eyes. He looks from Liam to Drew, then back again. His voice is groggy, but there’s a knowing edge under it.
“You guys kissed,” Henry says.
He blinks again. “Holy shit. You kissed.”
Drew runs a hand through his hair, exhaling hard. “Yeah. We kinda did.”
Liam can’t look at either of them. He turns toward the wall.
But then Henry laughs. A small, tired, warm sound.
“Took you long enough.”
Liam turns back around.
“You’re... not mad?”
Henry snorts.
“Mad? No. Jealous? Maybe. But not in a bad way.”
He shrugs, looking between them both now—more serious.
“It’s just... you’re not the only one who’s been feeling shit. I’ve watched you two dance around this for months. It sucked. But I didn’t say anything, because I thought maybe I didn’t fit into whatever this was.”
Drew moves closer, eyes softening.
“Henry... you do.”
Liam nods, voice low.
“You’ve always been there, man. We’d be idiots to not see that.”
There’s a silence. This one isn’t tense—it’s tender. Fragile.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Henry asks, voice cautious.
Drew smiles, small but real. “I’m saying we figure this out together. All three of us.”
Henry looks like he might laugh again—or cry. Instead, he shifts over on the bed.
“Well, come on then. You guys can’t just stand there being dramatic without me.”
Liam moves first, sitting beside Henry. Drew follows, settling on the other side.
They sit like that for a moment—shoulders brushing, silence falling again. But this time, it feels like something new. Something whole.
Liam speaks, just above a whisper. “We don’t have to label anything tonight.”
“No,” Drew agrees. “But we don’t have to ignore it either.”
Henry leans his head on Liam’s shoulder. Drew’s fingers find Liam’s hand between them, and Liam’s other arm wraps gently around Henry’s back.
They sit like that for a long time.
Three boys.
One bed.
And something like healing finally beginning to take root.