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The problem was, Andrew and Neil had stopped noticing.
They didn't notice when grocery shopping turned into something they just did together, wandering through the aisles in easy silence like they'd always shared the same list.
They didn't notice when Neil started keeping Andrew's favorite cereal in the apartment, hidden behind his own so nobody else would take it.
They didn't notice that Andrew always made enough coffee for two, setting Neil's mug beside his without even asking if he wanted one.
They didn't notice that Neil had slowly ended up with about half of Andrew's wardrobe, until Andrew's sweatshirts and shirts became the safest, most familiar things Neil owned.
And they definitely didn't notice that everyone else had noticed.
Until Allison finally said something.
It started with breakfast.
Neil walked into the kitchen wearing Andrew's sweatshirt, the sleeves covering his hands and the collar hanging loose around his throat.
Andrew sat at the table with his coffee, one ankle resting over his knee.
Without looking up, he pushed a plate toward Neil.
Neil sat down, still half-asleep.
“You made eggs.”
“You eat eggs.”
“You remembered.”
Andrew glanced at him, his expression flat, though his eyes went briefly warm.
“Obviously.”
Neil smiled and started eating.
Across the table, Kevin stared at them like they were some especially confusing problem.
Nicky stared at them, looking more delighted by the second.
Aaron stared at them like he regretted waking up.
Allison stared at them without even trying to hide it.
Matt looked mildly amused.
Dan was doing her best not to laugh, pressing her lips together while her shoulders shook.
Neil looked around.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Allison said, way too innocently.
“You're staring.”
“I'm observing.”
“That's creepy.”
Allison's smile sharpened.
“So.”
Andrew's eyes narrowed.
“No.”
“You don't even know what I was going to say.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Allison leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.
“You two are basically an old married couple.”
Neil nearly choked on his eggs. He coughed into his fist, eyes watering, while Andrew stopped halfway through a sip of coffee.
The kitchen went silent.
Nicky's grin slowly spread across his face.
Aaron closed his eyes like he was bracing for impact.
Kevin looked between them, clearly trying to figure out what the accusation meant.
“What does married mean?”
Everyone stared at him.
“You're hopeless,” Aaron said.
“We are not married,” Neil said, wiping his mouth.
Allison shrugged.
“I didn't say you were.”
“You said we're basically married.”
“Because you are.”
“No, we're not.”
Andrew looked at Neil, his gaze direct and unreadable.
“Do you want to be married?”
Neil's brain completely stopped.
“What?”
Andrew blinked once.
“I asked a question.”
“You just…”
“Never mind.”
“No.”
Neil put his fork down with a sharp click.
“No, you don't get to say something like that and then say never mind.”
Andrew stared at him, calm as ever.
“I was asking hypothetically.”
“Hypothetically?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Allison said we're basically married.”
Neil frowned, his pulse suddenly beating way too hard.
“That doesn't mean you'd marry me.”
Andrew looked genuinely confused.
“Why wouldn't I?”
The kitchen went silent again, but this time it felt heavier.
Nicky's mouth fell open.
Allison slowly covered her face with both hands.
Aaron muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a prayer.
Neil stared at Andrew.
Andrew stared back, like he couldn't understand why this was so difficult.
“You'd marry me?”
“Yes.”
“You've thought about this?”
Andrew shrugged, completely unfazed by the fact that everyone else looked ready to explode.
“Obviously.”
Neil's ears were burning.
“How long have you been thinking about this?”
Andrew thought about it, his eyes briefly flicking toward the ceiling.
“Long enough.”
Nicky made a strangled noise.
Andrew turned toward him.
“Don't.”
Nicky immediately shut his mouth, though he kept grinning.
That should've been the end of it.
It wasn't.
Because now Neil was thinking about marriage.
Constantly.
Not that he wanted to.
Obviously.
It was just…
Andrew had said he'd marry him.
Andrew.
Who didn't like unnecessary commitments.
Who hated being touched by most people.
Who'd spent years building walls and protecting himself from anyone who might try to get too close.
Andrew had looked at Neil and said:
Why wouldn't I?
Neil couldn't stop thinking about it.
Three days later, he was lying on the couch with a book open in his lap, even though he hadn't read the same paragraph in almost ten minutes, when Andrew sat down beside him.
The cushions dipped under Andrew's weight.
Neil glanced over.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Depends.”
“Why would you marry me?”
Andrew turned his head and looked at him.
“Why wouldn't I?”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it's true.”
Neil swallowed, his fingers tightening around the edge of the book.
“I don't know if I'd be good at it.”
“At what?”
“Marriage.”
Andrew shrugged.
“Neither do I.”
“You'd probably be terrible.”
“Definitely.”
Neil smiled despite himself.
“You'd forget anniversaries.”
“Yes.”
“You'd refuse to dance.”
“Yes.”
“You'd threaten the wedding guests.”
“Only if necessary.”
Neil laughed before he could stop himself.
Then the laughter faded, leaving something more fragile behind.
“What if I mess it up?”
Andrew's expression changed.
Barely.
A slight tightening around his eyes. A small shift in his mouth.
But Neil knew him well enough to notice.
“You won't.”
“You don't know that.”
“I know you.”
Neil looked down at their hands, close but not touching.
“I've never really had anything that was supposed to last.”
Andrew was quiet for a moment.
The room seemed to close in around them, filled with the apartment's soft hum and the weight of everything neither of them had figured out how to say.
Then Andrew reached over and took Neil's hand.
No hesitation.
No fear.
Just Andrew, warm and steady, his thumb resting against Neil's knuckles.
“Neither have I.”
Neil looked at him.
Andrew squeezed his hand once.
“So we'll figure it out.”
Neil's chest hurt.
In a good way.
In a way that felt dangerously close to hope.
“You're really serious.”
“Yes.”
“About marrying me?”
“Yes.”
Neil smiled, small and uncertain at first, then brighter when Andrew didn't look away.
“Okay.”
Andrew raised an eyebrow.
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
“You're agreeing?”
“Maybe.”
Andrew stared at him.
Neil's grin turned mischievous.
“You're going to have to ask properly.”
Andrew looked deeply unimpressed.
“You're annoying.”
“You like me.”
“Yes.”
Neil's grin widened.
“Say it again.”
“No.”
“Andrew.”
“No.”
“You love me.”
Andrew sighed, long-suffering and fond despite himself.
“I love you.”
Neil's smile softened.
“I love you too.”
Andrew leaned closer.
Their foreheads touched, their breaths mingling in the small space between them.
For once, neither of them needed to say anything else.
The next morning, Neil walked into the kitchen.
Nicky looked up from his breakfast, his eyes immediately lighting up with suspicion.
“So.”
Neil grabbed a cup of coffee.
“So?”
“When's the wedding?”
Neil nearly dropped the cup.
Andrew walked in behind him, silent and lethal.
“Shut up, Nicky.”
Nicky grinned.
“I'm just asking.”
“There is no wedding.”
Neil looked at Andrew over the rim of his cup.
“Yet.”
Andrew stared at him.
Then, very slowly, the corner of his mouth lifted.
Nicky screamed.
Aaron left the room.
Kevin looked confused.
Allison started laughing.
And Neil decided that maybe this was what having a family was supposed to feel like.
Loud.
Ridiculous.
A little terrifying.
But theirs.