Chapter Text
By the time Gareth realized Moka had stolen the popcorn bowl for the third time that evening, he had also realized three other things.
Firstly, Moka had somehow learned that batting a full bowl off the coffee table resulted in Gareth crawling around the living room collecting popcorn one piece at a time while Kayden sighed in the background, which apparently qualified as peak entertainment if the cat's twitching tail was anything to go by.
Secondly, Kayden had been pretending to work for the last twenty minutes. His laptop was open. But the document on the screen hadn't changed once. Every now and then he'd type three words, delete two of them, then stare into space with the expression of someone who had spent the entire day dealing with people who continuously dropped the average IQ of the world population.
And thirdly, Gareth was bored.
Dangerously bored.
There were hobbies. There were healthy coping mechanisms. There was reading. There was television.
There was, according to Kayden, "simply existing quietly for a little while."
Gareth had tried that once.
It had lasted six minutes. Maybe seven.
He scooped another handful of popcorn into the bowl before glancing towards the sofa where Kayden sat cross-legged, glasses balanced low on his nose, one elbow resting on the armrest while he reread the same paragraph for what had to be the fifth time. Gareth smiled to himself. Most people would've looked at Kayden and seen someone completely absorbed in work. Gareth knew better. There was a tiny line between his eyebrows that only appeared when he was tired enough to lose focus but stubborn enough to refuse to admit it, and every couple of minutes he'd unconsciously rub the bridge of his nose before forcing himself back to the screen.
He'd had a bad day.
A really bad one.
Which was exactly why Gareth had cancelled dinner plans with the Heathens and insisted they stay home instead. Bad days meant takeaway, comfortable clothes and doing whatever ridiculous thing eventually earned him one of Kayden's exasperated little smiles. It had become something of a personal challenge over the years.
Sometimes it only took five minutes. Sometimes it took an hour. Once, memorably, Gareth had spent an entire evening speaking to Moka in a terrible French accent until Kayden finally looked up from his book and muttered, "If you're going to traumatize the cat, at least commit to the pronunciation."
Worth it.
Entirely worth it.
Tonight, however, Kayden hadn't smiled once.
Not properly.
Which meant Gareth was now contractually obligated, under laws he'd invented himself, to fix that.
"Moka," he whispered.
The cat's ears twitched.
"I have an idea."
Moka blinked.
"See, that's why you're my favourite."
From somewhere behind the laptop came a very tired voice. "I heard that."
Gareth looked over innocently. "I was talking to the cat."
"I know."
"You sounded jealous."
"I'm exhausted."
"Those aren't mutually exclusive."
Kayden didn't even bother looking up, “I refuse to engage."
"Oh?"
"No."
"What if I said something incredibly intelligent?"
"I'd assume you've been replaced."
Gareth gasped dramatically enough that Moka looked offended on his behalf. "You wound me."
Silence.
Then, without taking his eyes off the screen, Kayden reached blindly towards the coffee table until his fingers found Gareth's wrist. He squeezed once. Briefly. Barely two seconds.
Then he let go.
That was it.
Not a kiss, not a hiar ruffle. Nothing anyone else would've thought twice about.
However, Gareth, naturally, was completely ruined by it.
Honestly, it was embarrassing how little affection he required before his brain started acting like an overexcited Labrador. A hand on his arm? Wonderful. Fingers through his hair? Incredible. Kayden absent-mindedly stealing fries from his plate because he'd decided Gareth's looked better? He'd probably write poetry about it.
He glanced down at Moka. "Don't judge me."
Moka yawned.
The cat stretched lazily before wandering over to Kayden, jumping onto the sofa with all the confidence of someone who paid exactly zero rent yet somehow owned the apartment. Kayden automatically scratched behind his ears without looking away from the laptop.
Gareth narrowed his eyes.
"Moka."
Nothing.
"Moka."
Still nothing.
"So this is mutiny."
The cat settled more comfortably against Kayden's thigh.
"Oh, now you're cuddling him."
Kayden snorted quietly. “Because she isn't making speeches."
"I'll have you know my speeches are universally beloved."
"They're universally endured."
Gareth placed a hand dramatically over his heart. "I don't know who you are anymore."
"You'll survive."
"I don't think I will."
Kayden finally looked up, "You've survived worse.”
There it was. The smile, tiny, almost invisible, but there nonetheless.
Gareth immediately decided that, yes, this was absolutely worth the conversation they'd just had.
One smile down, several more to go.
He tossed a piece of popcorn into the air.
Caught it.
Tossed another.
Caught that too.
Moka's eyes followed the movement with increasing interest.
Gareth noticed, conjuring up a plan in his brilliant mind, "Oh." He grinned, "Oh, this..."
Another piece of popcorn was tossed up into the air, landing neatly on the cushion beside the cat.
Moka pounced.
Gareth threw another one, this time a little further away.
Moka bounded after it with remarkable enthusiasm for someone who had ignored an expensive feather toy approximately an hour earlier.
Another piece.
Another leap.
Another increasingly ridiculous attempt from Moka to predict Gareth's aim.
Behind them, keys clicked steadily across the keyboard again.
Good.
Kayden was working.
Moka was entertained.
Gareth was, admittedly, entertaining himself just as much.
Everybody won.
He tossed another piece. It bounced gently off Moka's forehead before falling onto the rug.
The cat stared at it, looking slightly dumbfounded.
Then she looked at Gareth.
Then chased it anyway.
Gareth laughed.
“Kayde, see? She's having fun."
“I bet she is.”
Gareth scoffed at the attitude in Kayden’s voice, “Well, she definitely is .”
"I doubt Moka has an opinion."
"Moka has many opinions."
"Moka's only opiniona are on food."
"That's incredibly judgmental."
"It's incredibly accurate."
Gareth considered that, then shrugged, “Fair."
Five more minutes passed.
Another handful of popcorn disappeared.
Moka grew bolder, launching himself after each piece with increasingly dramatic jumps that would've impressed Olympic gymnasts.
Gareth applauded after one particularly ambitious leap. "You magnificent little baby.”
Moka meowed triumphantly.
Kayden sighed.
Gareth glanced over, the little line between Kayden's eyebrows had deepened. His shoulders looked tighter now.
He hadn't moved from the same paragraph.
Gareth's smile faded slightly.
Maybe he'd pushed enough.
Maybe...
One last throw. For luck.
The kernel arced neatly through the air.
Moka launched after it.
Unfortunately, so did the entire bowl.
It tipped off the coffee table.
Popcorn exploded across the rug.
Moka, apparently delighted by this unexpected development, immediately began chasing individual kernels around the apartment like he'd just discovered the
greatest game ever invented.
For one glorious second, Gareth burst out laughing.
Then he saw Kayden close his eyes, not dramatically.
Just...
Tiredly.
Like something inside him had finally reached capacity, “Gareth."
"Hm?"
"Can you..." Kayden stopped and slowly rubbed a hand over his face. "Can you stop acting like a child for five minutes?"
Silence.
Not awkward, not necessarily.
Not heavy.
Just…still.
Gareth looked at him for a second before smiling, small and easy, the same smile he wore whenever Kayden complained about him leaving mugs on the counter or stealing hoodies that technically weren't his,
“Oh.”He rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah." A tiny laugh."Sorry."
He stood without another word, crouched down and began picking up the popcorn one piece at a time while Moka tried very helpfully to eat the evidence. "No, buddy."
He scratched behind the cat's ears, “We've apparently lost popcorn privileges."
Moka meowed in protest.
"I know."
Gareth smiled again. "My fault."
Within five minutes the living room looked exactly as it had before.
The bowl was back on the table.
The popcorn was gone.
Moka had los interest and wandered off towards the bedroom.
Kayden was already working again.
Gareth watched him for a second.
Then quietly sat down at the opposite end of the sofa.
Far enough away that he wouldn't accidentally distract him again.
He picked up the book he'd abandoned earlier.
Opened it.
Read the same sentence four times… and didn't absorb a single word.
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
After another hour, Kayden finally closed the laptop with a relieved sigh. "Done."
Gareth looked up immediately. "How'd it go?"
"Better."
"Good."
Kayden smiled faintly.
"You kept yourself occupied."
"Mm."
"Thank you."
"No problem."
Something about the exchange felt...
Off.
Not wrong.
Just unfamiliar.
Usually Gareth would've already been halfway across the sofa demanding attention, insisting that surviving a workday entitled Kayden to at least twenty minutes of cuddling before either of them was allowed to think about dinner.
Instead, he stayed where he was.
The silence settled strangely between them.
Kayden noticed it, but he blamed it on the long day.
By the time they got ready for bed, he'd almost forgotten the conversation entirely.
Because Gareth still brushed his teeth beside him.
Still made sure Moka had food.
Still climbed into bed on Kayden's side first because, despite every debate they'd ever had about it, Gareth insisted that warming up Kayden's side of the mattress was an act of selfless devotion.
Only… tonight he stopped nightly routine after that.
Normally, Gareth would have immediately reached for him, wrapping himself around Kayden with complete confidence before stealing one last kiss, mumbling a sleepy "Love you," against his shoulder while complaining about Kayden’s feet being too cold.
Tonight, he simply settled beneath the blankets, rolled onto his side and waited.
When Kayden slid in behind him a minute later, Gareth still curled instinctively into his chest, still fit there perfectly.
But he didn't reach back.
Didn't tangle their fingers.
Didn't tip his head up for the kiss that had quietly become part of every night they spent together.
Kayden frowned slightly in the darkness, “You okay?"
A pause.
Then Gareth's voice, soft with sleep and entirely ordinary, “Yeah."
Another pause, “Just tired."
"Hm." Kayden pressed a brief kiss into his hair. "Goodnight."
"...Night."
It wasn't until several minutes later, lying awake with one arm around Gareth's waist, that Kayden realised something felt different.
He just couldn't figure out what.