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“How did you know?” Vilde is staring at Isak a bit too intensely. She’d been staring at him like that for a few seconds, which is the kind of thing he probably should have noticed, except he’s been too busy staring at Even. At his bright, bright smile that never fails to light up the entire room. At the little crinkles in the corners of his eyes. At the way he gets on so well with everyone, charms them all with his perfectly charming face and that perfectly charming grin. He’s charming them now – Eva and Noora sitting close side by side on the other sofa, Sana perched on the arm, Magnus, Mahdi and Jonas lazing on the floor. Isak is so proud of him – so proud of him and the way he makes everyone love him. So proud to be the one that loves Even the most. So proud to be the one that Even loves back.
Just a few weeks ago, Even had barely been able to get out of bed, trapped beneath the haze of his depression. Unable to gather the strength to go and have a shower, let alone entertain others for hours. The idea of talking to anyone for an extended period of time was exhausting, Even had admitted. But now look at him, look how he’s bounced back. His bright beautiful boy, livening up the room, right where he belongs. Isak is just so proud of him.
Isak glances around again and finds that Jonas is looking at him. Isak tries to dim his smile a little, no need to be so obvious, but Jonas glances at Even and raises his eyebrows: his way of asking if Even is okay. His best friend, Isak still tells him – not everything, but most things – so Jonas knows how tough it was a few weeks ago. Isak lets his smile grow wider again, tips his beer as if in salute. Everything is good. He take a sip and Jonas does the same.
Maybe Isak should slow down on the beer, but it gives him a chance to stare at his boyfriend and blame it on the alcohol, not on the fact that he’s totally whipped, whatever, like they wouldn’t be totally whipped if they were his boyfriend as well. But they’re not, he is, and it’s the best feeling in the world. He thought they were just words: bliss, joy, love, before Even came along and showed him how real they are. Isak takes another sip of his beer.
“Isak.” Vilde’s tone is decidedly less patient.
Isak turns to face her with a start, having forgotten that she was there.
“Hmmm?”
“How did you know?”
“Know what?”
Vilde glances pointedly at Even. “You know. That you liked him. Liked-liked him. As more than a friend.”
Normally he would brush this kind of question off, make a joke about the questioner, deflect the attention. But tonight the beer has warmed beneath his skin, and Even warms the outer of his skin, solid and real where he’s pressed against Isak’s side on the sofa too small to hold the three of them. The buzz from it all makes him feel more confident, more open. She’s not asking to be mean. He can see the curiosity on her face, along with something else he can’t quite pinpoint. And besides, it’s Vilde. She’s as harmless as a – well, a kitten, if what Magnus says is anything to go by.
“No, I -” Isak frowns. He can’t pinpoint a moment, an exact lightning bolt of clarity when he knew. It was a build up, he supposed, a collection of moments, each making him fall deeper and deeper.
“I was always intrigued,” Isak admits. “From when I first saw him.”
“Aw.” Vilde gazes up at him, looking at him like he’s the cutest thing in the world. He thinks back over his words. A bit too cheesy. He takes another sip of his beer. A sure way for instant extra man-points.
“But were you sober?”
“Yes.”
“When did you first meet him?”
“At your kose meeting, actually.”
“We brought you together?” He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Vilde look so happy.
“Guys!” Vilde addresses the room loudly. The other conversations stop. “We brought them together.” She gestures vaguely at Isak and Even. “They met at our kose-group!”
Isak can feel everyone’s eyes on him. He ducks his head, wishes his cheeks weren’t so red. He’s never had a moment where he literally wishes the ground would swallow him up, he’s not in some crappy film, after all, or a badly written story, but huh, there’s a first time for everything. He raises his beer to his lips, swigging desperately.
Even bumps Isak’s shoulder with his own shoulder. Isak knows what’s going to happen when he looks at Even but he can’t help it, he looks at him anyway. He feels the answering smile on his face to Even’s grin, the raised eyebrows that should look ridiculous, but it’s Even so somehow they don’t. I was there to meet you. Isak’s heart beats a little faster.
“That’s so sweet!” Eva exclaims. She’s grinning at them, the alcohol making it brighter. Sober Isak would roll his eyes, but tipsy Isak smiles back.
“Yeah, but it wasn’t your love-exercise that brought us together, so don’t go taking the credit. What was that, anyway?” Even asks.
Vilde and Eva rush to defend the exercise. Isak tunes it out. Even actually looks like he’s listening – this is why people like him, he’s just so nice – and then he glances back to Isak, his eyes slightly wide: his way of asking are you okay? And that is so Even, Isak realises belatedly. Always knowing when Isak is uncomfortable, when to shift the focus. Isak raises his chin – not so far that Even thinks he’s asking for a kiss, not with everyone here – but he raises it just a little: I’m okay.
They joke about the kose-group for a few minutes. The attention off them, Isak settles back deeper, wiggling into the small space he has between Even and Vilde. He looks at Even’s shoulder, thinks how nice it would be to rest his head on it, the way he does when they watch films sometimes. Even has the best shoulders. They’re so comfortable. Even has the best everything, really.
“So did you know you liked him before you two kissed?” Vilde’s back to questioning him. Isak does roll his eyes this time. Considers: would she be asking this if he was dating a girl? Probably not.
“Yeah.”
“But did the kiss make it clearer? Like did you think ‘maybe I like him’ and then you kissed and that’s when you definitely knew?”
Isak sighs. “Yeah. Maybe. I liked him, we kissed, we got together.” He waves his hand in the air in front of him. “Some other stuff happened between that, but. Yeah.”
“Okay.” Vilde looks thoughtful. She gazes across the room, staring at something for a few seconds. Isak turns his head to find what she’s looking at. Eva, possibly. It’s hard to tell with everyone squashed in together.
“But did you know that you liked boys before that, or was Even the first -”
“Vilde, I’m not gay!” Isak interrupts.
Vilde tears her gaze away from the girls, looking up at Isak with wide eyes. “I was just asking. Don’t get offended. It’s fine if you’re gay or bi or whatever. It’s not a problem.”
“Yeah.” Isak already regrets his outburst. “Yeah, I know.”
Vilde looks back over to possibly Eva. She takes a breath. “I was just asking because-”
“Do you want another beer?” Even puts his hand on Isak’s knee, the warmth of his skin spreading all the way through Isak.
Isak glances down at his bottle, sees that it’s almost empty. He considers. He doesn’t really need another one. He’s in a good place, feeling buzzed without being too drunk. He shakes his head.
“Vilde?” Even asks.
“Oh – no. Thank you.” Vilde raises her wine glass to show Even. She frowns, noticing that it’s almost empty. She bends down to pick up her wine bottle from where it stands on the floor by the sofa. She concentrates too hard on pouring it out, her hands a little unsteady. For the first time, Isak realises that maybe she’s pretty tipsy, too.
Even slumps back on the sofa, new beer in his hand. He glances back to Isak.
“Are you ok?” Even asks.
Isak nods. “I’m ok. Are you okay?”
Even smiles. “I’m good.” He leans in closer. God, Isak can just smell him. He smells amazing. “Do you need me to save you from Vilde?”
Isak smiles. “No, it’s all good.”
They share a smile, faces close together. Isak could live in this instant, could stretch it out and be happy forever. He wonders if all of the Isaks and Evens in the parallel universes are this happy. He hopes they are.
Even pulls back, knows Isak, is aware that they’re surrounded by his friends. He starts a conversation with Sana, gesturing animatedly as he speaks. Isak’s attention is caught by Even’s hand, moves his gaze up his arm, to his shoulder. Even has the best shoulders.
Isak closes that little gap between them to rest his head on Even’s shoulder, happy to listen to the conversation.
Yeah. It’s all good.