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“Congratulations!”
The shout was so loud the glasses rattled. Flux flinched and then laughed, already half-drunk, staring up at the massive ice sculpture of himself melting in the center of the room.
“Holy shit, this is outrageous,” he said, hands on his hips.
“Yooo!! He said the line guys!!!” Rotation howled, and everyone burst into laughter.
“Still can’t believe you’re getting married, dude,” Seraphim laughed, throwing an arm over Flux’s shoulders.
“It’s about time isn’t it?” Snowbird called over the music, swirling his drink. “They’ve been together for how long?”
“Since graduation,” NewKids supplied, handing Flux another drink.
Flux raised it like a toast.
“When Saps popped the question, who was I to say no?” He downed it in one go, grinning at the chorus of cheers. “God, guys, this setup seriously is insane. The penthouse, the pool up top?”
“Hey, you really gotta thank your best man for that one!” Gotoga yelled, pointing toward the staircase.
Thomas stood at the top of the stairs, a drink in his own hand and half-smiling like he wasn’t sure what to do with the attention. At the sound of his name, he spun around, giving the room a bright smile.
“Come down here!” Gotoga grinned. “You’re supposed to greet the groom properly!”
Thomas laughed, heading down the steps two at a time. “But of course.”
Flux opened his arms wide. “C’mere, man.”
Their hug was clumsy, arms stuttering for a second like they weren’t sure where to put them, half-balancing around the cups in their hands. Yet, as soon as their arms wrapped around, they collapsed into each other—a tight embrace, something warm and familiar.
The room erupted into cheers, some still cackling at their failed attempt for a simple hug.
Flux whispered with a chuckle, “Thanks, Thomas. This really is awesome.”
Thomas felt a chill run down the back of his neck with Flux’s breaths against his ear.
“Hey, only the best for you,” Thomas mustered a smile. “Gotta live up to my role as the ‘best man,’ am I right?”
Fluixon pulled away, giving him a small, almost awkward, pat on his shoulder.
“And that you did,” Flux grinned before he turned to the rest of the group. “Now, let’s get the games going, please!”
The crowd blurred together after that. Music blasted and people shoved drinks into Thomas’s hands faster than he could take them. He accepted them all generously, not entirely sure if he was drinking more to celebrate or for some other entirely unrelated reason.
In the centre, he hovered by Flux’s side, as he always did. Flux lit up the room, with his all too-bright smile and quick-witted remarks. He was always like this, since they were boys. Loud, golden, magnetic.
Thomas would be lying if he said he was immune to the pull. But how could he be?
Even Saparata couldn’t resist it.
It seemed like despite the schemes, the lows, the heartbreak, somehow through it all, Saparata and Fluixon fell back together like a crash landing on the moon.
Thomas was there through it all. Flux’s one and only confidant. He was there, as Flux’s ears to talk off, his shoulder to cry on—if Flux dared let himself to. It wasn’t one-sided, though. There was no one else Thomas would rather share his deepest, most inner thoughts with.
That was the sole thing their relationship was built upon, their devotion to one another. Their faith. Their trust.
But there was only one thing he hadn’t shared with Flux, one he could never. Feelings that were never meant to develop.
Thomas thought they would have faded by now, had hoped to god that they would. He had spent years watching Flux’s light reflect off of others, one shone for Saps now. A light never made for Thomas to bask in.
He still waited, praying that when the wedding bells, not meant for him, rang one last time, it would signify the end of something inside him.
An arm wrapping around his shoulders snapped him out of his thoughts.
“Hey, have another drink,” Flux offered with a smirk. “What’re you looking so gloomy for?”
Thomas laughed him off, taking it from his hands. “Wow, you sure know how to party, don’t you?”
“Yeah. I do better when you join me though,” Flux responded mischievously.
Thomas wished he could just smack him in the face sometimes for how he made him feel. He took a large gulp from his cup to try and subdue the burning in his throat.
“One of the last nights you’re free from Saps,” Thomas joked, but it felt more bitter on his tongue. “How does it feel?”
Flux took Thomas’s glass back in his, taking his own swig from it. “Feels like we should get wasted.”
On that note, the crowd called them away before Thomas could offer him a response.
The night unravelled quickly after that.
Shots were lined the counter, the group chanting Flux’s name as he downed them one by one. Someone dragged a speaker closer to the pool, and Seraphim dared Rotation into it. Thomas doesn’t even remember who won, just that Flux's had ended up dragging him into the pool with them and getting soaked, laughing too hard to breathe.
People were climbing on furniture, nothing was where it was supposed to be anymore, and at one point, Thomas had been pulled in with Flux to a round of karaoke, screaming songs they barely knew into a microphone.
By the time the music and laughter thinned out, half the group had crashed wherever they landed. Most were sprawled over the couch or carpet in front of the TV, NewKids laid dead on an arm chair, and somehow, only Rotation seemed to find his way into one of the bedrooms.
Flux showed up at the doorway where Thomas stood on the balcony, leaning against the railing on his hands. He turned around and Flux smiled at him, holding a new bottle by the neck.
“Still standing?” he asked.
“Barely,” Thomas said, chuckling. “I don’t know if I’ll wake up tomorrow.”
Flux raised the bottle to him like a toast. “One more before the night ends?”
“Why not?”
They slipped onto the balcony couch, the city humming below them with distant sounds of angry cars and people. Flux handed him the bottle and Thomas took a slow sip, the glass cold against his lip, their knees just barely touching.
As he brought the bottle back down, Thomas started.
“Hey—congrats again. On the wedding. Saps is… lucky.”
Flux chuckled, taking the bottle in his own hands again. “Yeah, anyone would be to marry me.”
Thomas laughed in response, resting his back on the sofa. He sighed, glancing up at the stars staring down at him. How pathetic he was. How pathetically bold he was going to be.
“You think it’ll feel different?” Thomas asked.
Flux blinked. “What, being married?”
“Yeah.”
Flux let out a breath, almost a laugh, but not quite.
“Everyone keeps asking me that. Like I’ve got some revelation lined up. I don’t know. Probably not. Saps and I have been—” He waved his hand vaguely. “Whatever this is—for years.”
Thomas nodded, not taking his eyes away from the sky. “Still. Ceremony makes it real, doesn’t it?”
Flux hummed, noncommittal. “Guess it makes it official. People like official.”
The corner of Thomas’s mouth tugged up. “Never thought you’d care about that.”
“I don’t.” Flux glanced at him then, a crooked grin flashing before it faded just as quick. “But Saps does.”
Thomas shifted, angling toward him. The bottle sat between them, half-empty, the glass catching what little light there was. He could smell the alcohol on Flux’s breath, on his own skin.
“Have you thought about it?” he asked.
Flux looked over, lazy, lids heavy. “About what?”
“The future.”
Flux’s fingers stayed hooked around the bottle’s neck. Thomas let his own hand fall there too, their knuckles brushing. Flux didn’t move away.
“Saps will probably have me on a leash. House, kids, dog, all that boring shit.” He shrugged, grin slipping crooked again. “Maybe I’ll like it.”
Thomas huffed a laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’d hate mowing the lawn.”
“I’d make you do it,” Flux smirked.
“Yeah, right. You think I’m sticking around to babysit you two?”
Flux tilted his head, smile flickering softer, smaller. “You’d stick around. You always do.”
Thomas sighed with a smile. “Not anymore.”
Flux frowned, sitting up. “What do you mean ‘not anymore’?”
“You’ll be a married man, Flux.” Thomas laughed, but it came out too light. “You won’t need me anymore.”
“Shut up, don’t say that.” Flux grumbled back into his seat. “I need you.”
The way Flux said it—too real, too earnest—made Thomas’s chest go tight. He turned away, his face burning.
“I mean it, Thomas,” Flux’s hand landed on his knee, the warmth of it cutting through the chill of the night. Thomas looked back, startled, meeting his half-lidded gaze. Flux’s mouth curved faintly. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
“God, you’re so embarrassing.” Thomas put his hand over Flux’s, trying to deflect with a grin. “I wonder how Saps puts up with you.”
“The same way you do, I suppose.”
“Yeah, but I won’t need to.” Thomas meant to tease, but his voice came out softer than he intended. “That’s Saps’s job now. He’s… good for you.”
Flux’s eyes lingered on him—longer than they should have—before his mouth twitched. “If you say so.”
Thomas raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think so?”
Flux shrugged, shoulders loose, pulling his hand away. “He gets me better than anyone. That’s… enough, right?”
Thomas’s throat tightened. He wanted to say no. He wanted to say it should be more than enough. Instead, he laughed, short and rough.
“You sound like you’re settling.”
“You know I never settle,” Flux grinned, bright and blinding.
Thomas rolled his eyes, taking another long drink. The bottle was nearly empty now, but he held it out anyway. Flux took it, tipping it back and swallowing the last of it. He lowered the bottle slowly, placing it somewhere between them on the sofa.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The noise from the city echoed below them, quieter now, as if it was also in wait for their next words. A chill breeze passed through them, a reminder of where they were—just the two of them. Like it used to be.
Flux leaned back, stretching his arms out along the couch behind them, close enough that his knuckles brushed Thomas’s shoulder.
“You think it’s weird?” he asked suddenly.
Thomas glanced over. “What is?”
“Getting older,” Flux said, voice softer now, a little slurred. “Feels like we were just idiots yesterday. Now I’m… getting married.”
“You still are an idiot,” Thomas said automatically, but it came out warm.
Flux laughed, the sound rough. “Shut up.”
The city light caught in Flux’s hair, slightly damp from the pool and sweat. Thomas hated that he noticed. Hated that he couldn’t look away.
Flux was staring out over the railing now, but his hand had dropped from the back of the couch, fingers tracing lazy patterns against the cushion between them. Thomas could feel the warmth radiating off him.
“You ever regret anything?” Flux asked, not really looking at him.
Thomas hesitated, biting his bottom lip. “Plenty.”
Flux let out a small hum, thoughtful, almost absent. “Like what?”
He usually would’ve brushed it off, made a joke, but the drink made him all too bold.
“Not saying things when I should’ve.”
Flux turned then, slower this time, his eyes finding Thomas’s. The teasing edge was gone. “Like what things?”
Thomas forced a laugh. “Doesn’t matter now.”
Flux swallowed, leaning in slightly. His voice came out quieter.
“Tell me anyway.”
Thomas laughed under his breath, shakier than he wanted.
“You wouldn’t want to hear it.”
“You don’t know that.” Flux smiled faintly. It wasn’t his usual grin, but something smaller, almost bashful.
They were close now. Too close that Thomas could count the eyelashes on each eyelid, not that he hadn’t already. Their gazes caught, and didn’t let go. The air between them thickened, heavy and fragile all at once.
Flux’s hand drifted again, brushing against Thomas’s lower thigh before resting there, hesitant but deliberate. Thomas didn’t pull away—he wouldn’t.
The bottle slid off the couch, clinking dully against the floor, but neither of them noticed. Flux leaned in—not much, just enough for Thomas to feel the ghost of his breath across his jaw.
“Thomas…” Flux’s voice came low, almost a sigh, almost reverent.
That was all it took.
They closed the distance between them, their lips meeting in a slow, unassuming fashion. Unsure at first, tasting of heat and drink and something else they refused to name. The kiss pressed on, with the weight of the years and the words left unsaid.
Flux shifted closer, bracing a hand on Thomas’s chest before swinging one leg over his lap. Thomas gasped against his mouth at the motion, hands finding Flux’s sides to stablise him.
And suddenly, it wasn’t careful anymore—it wasn’t fragile.
The taste of all the alcohol flooded their senses, smelling it in their shared breaths. They lost themselves in it, getting even more drunk simply off the feeling of one another.
It was wet, it was sloppy, uncoordinated as their teeth knocked together. But Thomas didn’t care, and it didn’t seem like Flux did either, only pushing Thomas further back into the couch as if the space between them was more suffocating than being practically attached to each other.
For a long moment, the world seemed to fade away. The party, the ring on Flux’s finger, the life waiting for him beyond the balcony—forgotten.
Then, like a spark cutting through the fog, Thomas thought of Saparata.
It wasn’t right for them to do this. They shouldn’t be doing this, not at Flux’s bachelor party no less. In a week, Flux was due to be married to a nice man. And here they were, drunk stupid and making out like their lives depended on it.
Thomas didn’t actually have any ill will towards Saparata. Saps hadn’t done anything wrong to him, at least never intentionally. What was he doing, standing between them? Saps didn’t deserve this.
Yet… At the same time…
With the feeling of Flux’s chest pressed against his, Flux’s mouth and panting breaths intertwined with his own, Flux’s hands roaming across his hair, his face, his torso…
Who was Thomas to throw away this moment?
To throw away this one chance of everything he’d longed for?
So, maybe it was the drunkenness enabling him or some sober thought trying to take advantage, but for once in his life, Thomas let himself be selfish.
He grabbed Flux’s hair, deepened the kiss even further like he would miss something if they weren’t any closer. Flux sighed against his mouth at the touch, and Thomas couldn’t help but grin into it.
Thomas wasn’t sure how long they were like that for. Only when they finally pulled away, Thomas could see the work he’d done to Flux.
His lips were swollen, puffy, and his face flushed red and shone with sweat.
Thomas wondered how he himself might have looked at the moment, breathing heavily beneath Flux.
He couldn’t tell what Flux was thinking, his hazy mind not being able to quite place that look in those vibrant eyes. Tired? Satisfied? Still… hungry?
And yet, as always, it was all consuming. Once again, Thomas felt all too heavy under his gaze, like he was something more than his friend, more than his best man. Like Flux hadn’t seen anything more precious in the world.
But Thomas wasn’t an idiot, and he could already feel the moment passing him by like water trickling down a stream. He knew better to ask for more, to ask for change.
He knew Flux could feel it too, both Flux’s hands trailing up to cup Thomas’s face.
Flux gave his lips one more peck, too gentle for only a fling or too soft to mean anything—who knew? Thomas accepted it, feeling Flux’s lips against his own for the last time.
He didn’t know what Flux was thinking, or more likely, he probably wasn’t thinking at all.
Thomas’s voice finally cracked through the silence.
“I… should go,” he said. His throat was dry from alcohol and the kissing.
“Yeah,” Flux responded, voice resigned and just as hoarse. “You’re right.”
Flux peeled himself off of Thomas’s lap, flopping over beside him on the couch.
Thomas stood, brushing the heat and sweat off his pants lightly. The space between them suddenly felt all too cold and stale. They didn’t dare say another word to each other as Thomas went back inside.
He didn’t look back.
They never talked about the kiss since then, not that that was surprising in the slightest.
Really, what were they going to say anyway?
‘It was a mistake, I’m sorry.’
‘I meant it, but it’s too late now.’
‘I was just drunk.’
Plenty of options for either of them to say. None of those Thomas really wanted to hear.
It wouldn’t fix anything, wouldn’t change anything.
He was a grown man now, for crying out loud. He couldn’t afford to keep yearning after his best friend like they were still dumb, lovesick teenagers in high school.
Whatever it was, whatever it meant…
It simply didn't matter.
So, the day of the wedding arrived, and Thomas didn’t say anything as he fixed Flux’s tie. At least, not until Flux said something first.
They were close, maybe unnecessarily so, but they kept their hands to themselves this time. Cordial. Sober.
Thomas tried his best to keep his eyes off of Flux’s suit, however, his mind kept wandering, as it typically did around Flux. God, save him already.
“I think it’s all good now, Thomas.” Flux tilted his head up, cracking a smile. It was bright, as per usual, and so utterly warm.
How could Thomas not smile back at that?
“Just making sure you look perfect for your big day,” Thomas chuckled, finally taking his hands off around Flux’s collar, but neither of them stepped back. “Don’t want Saps to cancel the wedding because of a wonky tie.”
“He’s stayed with me after worse incidents, I’m sure he can handle a little wardrobe malfunction.” Flux laughed, nudging Thomas’s shoulder playfully. Then, he gestured to his outfit. “So, do I look perfect?”
Thomas blinked, his eyes flickering down to what he was avoiding. In an instant, he took it in. The sharp edges of Flux’s jacket, the rose pinned to his pocket, his hair done partially up how Flux always had it, but much cleaner this time.
He really did look perfect.
Thomas coughed, answering hastily. “‘Course you do. I did all the work.”
“Sure, buddy,” Flux sighed, patting Thomas’s chest, but he was smiling.
Flux’s hand lingered on Thomas’s chest for a second too long before dropping away. He adjusted his cufflinks, glanced toward the door like he was trying to steady himself, then looked back at Thomas.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Thanks for… y’know. Everything. For being here.”
Thomas shrugged, trying for lightness. “Where else would I be?”
Something tugged at the corners of Flux’s mouth, something sentimental.
“Still.” A pause, the kind that stretches just long enough to feel dangerous. “I love you, man.”
He said it easily—like it was nothing, like it was just something friends said before weddings—but his voice caught on the ‘you,’ the way it always did when he meant something more than he wanted to admit.
Thomas froze.
He wanted to respond, wanted to say something, anything. Just a simple ‘I love you too,’ would suffice. It’d be casual, friendly.
But the words died in his throat, uneasy and dry.
Briefly, part of Thomas wondered if Flux even remembered that night. They were wasted out of their minds, a moment that could so easily slip their memories with no consequence. If he did remember, did he even care? Thomas shouldn’t.
Then Flux grinned again, easy and bright, breaking the moment before it could settle. “Alright, let’s get this show going before Saps thinks I ran off.”
After a beat, Thomas returned Flux’s own grin.
“I’m right behind you.” Always.
The wedding continued onwards with no blunders.
The ceremony went exactly as rehearsed, and Thomas watched it all from the side as Saps and Flux stood in front of each other at the altar, both in perfectly fitted suits, matching colours.
The two of them exchanged vows. Some audience members laughed, some cried.
Thomas didn’t really catch the words, too focussed on the way they both looked at each other—how intently they stared into each other’s eyes. Something so pure, full of adoration, and… love.
There was something so soft in Flux’s eyes, a look he’d only seen a few times—one it seemed now reserved only for Saparata.
When the minister said, “Does anyone have a reason why these two should not be joined in marriage?”
Thomas almost laughed at the thought of objecting.
“Then, the rings, please.”
Schpood, surprisingly teary-eyed, waked over from Saparata’s side with the two rings. The two took them, held each other’s hands with such gentleness as they slid the bands on.
When they finished, the minister finally said those last words.
“I now pronounce you both husbands.”
They kissed. And in that moment, Thomas couldn’t help but wonder if Flux could tell the difference—the difference between the way Saps kissed him and the way Thomas once had.
Maybe Saps was a better, sweeter kisser.
Or maybe the kiss Thomas and Flux shared would have been better if they were both sober.
The ceremony rounded out, and sooner than he expected, it was time for Thomas to speak.
Rotation stood on the mic, grinning hard.
“Everyone, please, a round of applause for Flux’s best man—Thomas!” Rotation’s voice carried through the room, and the crowd cheered.
Thomas stood, swapping with Rotation at the podium. He tapped on the mic, testing. Slow and steady, he cleared his throat and glanced at the audience, the words sitting heavy on his tongue.
“Hello everyone, if you don’t know me, my name is Thomas. And after knowing these two for years, I can honestly say,” He swallowed, covering it with a grin. “There isn’t a better match I could think of.
First off, Saps, who’s funny, talented, hardworking, smart, and kind.
And Flux,” Thomas smirked, pausing for the crowd, “who is a paranoid and obsessive narcissist.”
Laughter rippled through the tables, especially from the conspirators’ side.
“Jokes aside—though God knows I could go on—Flux is genuinely one of the most inspiring people I’ve ever met. I hate to admit it, but he’s got this drive, this passion that fills a room and makes people want to listen. It’s... incredible to see. Always has been.
And, well, it looks like our dear Saparata fell victim to that charm.”
More laughter. Flux shook his head fondly from his seat.
“I don’t know how you deal with him, Saps, but somehow you do. And it’s clear that, despite the disputes, the flaws, and everything else, these two always find their way back to each other. That’s what’s special about them.”
He took a slow breath, giving a slow smile. “I hope you two end up getting your kids, your dog, your house, and live out that boring domestic dream together. And know that I’ll be there, by your side or wherever you need me. Even if it means mowing the damn lawn.”
He let the laughter settle, breathing out slow. Maybe that was enough. Maybe that was all he needed to say.
Without really meaning to, Thomas caught Flux’s eye, somehow still looking at him with that same warmth, unwavering. Thomas looked away as quickly as it happened.
“To Saps,” he continued, turning his glass slightly toward him, “thank you for making him happy. For always choosing each other, even when it wasn’t easy.”
“And to Flux…” Thomas’s voice caught, looking back at Flux. A smile broke through his face anyway. “I meant to say it earlier, but… I love you too, man.”
It still burned coming out.
He raised a glass to the crowd.
“So—to Saparata and Fluixon, everyone!”
Applause rippled through the hall as the toast ended. Glasses clinked, cheers filled the air again, and the tension in Thomas’s shoulders slowly unwound.
He stepped down from the podium, letting the noise swallow him. A few people patted his back as he passed. Someone joked that he should try stand-up. Thomas laughed politely, still half-dazed from the adrenaline of speaking.
Later, as the evening settled, the crowd dissolved into rounds of drinks and dancing.
When Thomas finally stepped off the dance floor, Saps intercepted him, pulling him into a quiet corner. Thomas’s heart rate spiked, but it calmed once again when Saps smiled warmly.
“I just want to say, before we end this evening that you had a really good speech earlier,” he said, voice genuine even through the buzz of music starting up again. “Flux is really lucky to have you as a friend, Thomas.”
Guilt pulled into his throat, the heat aching at what they’d done behind Saps’s back. What could’ve ruined everything. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.
Thomas mustered a smile back at him. “Just saying what everyone’s thinking.”
Saparata chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah. You said it better.”
He clapped Thomas on the shoulder before Flux called out his name from across the room. Saps turned, his face softening instantly at the sight.
He looked back with a grin. “Excuse me, I owe my husband a dance.”
“I wouldn’t want to keep him waiting,” Thomas chuckled.
Thomas watched as Saparata made his way back to Flux. The two met at the center of the floor, Flux’s hand finding Saps’s waist as the music shifted into something slower. They looked good together—ridiculously good. The kind of good that made sense.
Thomas stood at the edge of the crowd, nursing the same drink he’d had for half an hour now. He watched them spin and laugh and whisper things too quiet to catch.
At one point, Flux glanced over. Their eyes met across the dance floor—just for a second. Flux smiled, bright and unguarded, his eyes gleaming from the lights. Thomas smiled back.
And maybe, just being able to keep that smile, those eyes in his life—that was enough.