Archive of Our Own ^beta

The sky was white. Well, it was probably grey, but it easily looked like pure, eerie white. Not a trace of blue anywhere—and there hadn’t been all day. The fog was so thick, you could look directly at the sun without even knowing. Gabriel was glaring up at it from where he sat on the grimy bench at the bus stop, wearing a rental suit and bouncing his leg furiously. He wasn’t really angry, just agitated. It’s June, he thought, we’re supposed to be done with this weather.

This attitude was the main giveaway that he was nervous.

That morning, one of Gabriel’s mothers had joked about the fog, which, the evening before, had been a beautiful cloud formation basked in a breathtaking sunset. “Welcome to North Creek,” she’d said, “if you don’t like the weather, wait ten minutes.” 

Gabriel didn’t laugh. His only response was a quiet hum of acknowledgement. His eyes remained unfocused. She asked if everything was alright. He said he was fine. She told him to tell her what was wrong. He said he was fine. She said he was acting like he was upset. He didn’t respond. She asked if this was about prom. He didn’t respond. She asked if it had anything to do with you-know-who. He didn’t respond. She said it was okay to be scared. He didn’t respond. She told him that she knew firsthand how terrifying it was. He didn’t respond. She said that he couldn’t let fear keep him away from someone he loved.

…He called her a sap.

She laughed, and Gabriel managed a small smile as she ruffled his black hair and kissed him on the forehead. “No pressure, but I had a feeling you two liked each other the first time he came over.”

“Ma,” Gabriel laughed with her.

“I know,” she said, dramatically, “two years before you even came out! Your mother said I was crazy, but look who was right.”

His (other) Mom called from the kitchen to quit talking about her or no one was getting breakfast. Gabriel and his Ma quietly snickered.

He was extremely lucky. Some gay kids were born into families that thought they were unnatural, or evil, or disgusting—parents prioritizing reputations or religion over their own children. Some gay kids lived in fear, desperately trying to hide an integral part of their very being, or risk becoming homeless. Out of his own two best friends, one had a family that was negligent and always disappointed, and the other had a family that was overbearing and paranoid.

Gabriel’s place was the main hangout spot for a reason. He was a gay kid who’d been born into a gay family. He’d only realized his own sexuality just a few months prior and he hadn’t been scared of telling his parents for a second; nor had he been scared to bring up the fact that he didn't think he was a boy. Not… entirely, at least. He’d felt that way for most of his life, and he thought he’d been going crazy until the start of tenth grade, when he began hanging out with a kid who would quickly become one of his best friends—Florence.

They were genderqueer, too.

The first time he hung out at Florence’s house, as his friend fixed the black-and-white raccoon tails in their dirty-blond hair, Gabriel noticed several dresses and skirts in their open closet.

“Huh,” Gabriel commented, flicking through them and thinking back to all the times he and Florence passed each other in the halls in middle school, when they’d been in the same class but didn’t really know each other yet. “I don’t think I’ve seen you wear any of these.”

“Hm?” Florence looked up from where they were sprawled on their bed. “Oh, yeah, my grandma got most of those for me. Not really my style, though. You can have em’ if you want.”

Gabriel froze. He thought about it for a moment. “But, I mean… they’re for girls.”

Florence laughed warmly. “It’s just fabric, dude. They’re for whoever wants to wear them.”

By the time the hangout was over and Gabriel had to go home, he’d tried on several skirts and had ended up keeping one, on Florence’s insistence. After that, he was so excited to have such a cool friend, a friend who never judged him or his family and who encouraged him not to conform and who had his back no matter what. He was ready for it to be the two of them against the world. Or, against high school, at least.

And then, literally the next week, Florence had introduced Gabriel to him.

Gabriel had been a little disappointed at first, when Florence said that they wanted him to meet their best friend since middle school, who’d missed the first few days of the school year thanks to a rough sinus infection. He was probably overthinking, but Gabriel had felt like a backup for the only friend Florence actually cared about. He was scared that if he kept hanging around the preexisting duo, they’d both treat him like nothing more than an understudy. 

Those fears would be gone within the day.

“Nice to meet you,” the best friend in question had smiled brightly, “my name is Toby.”

Gabriel often felt like he was in a dream. After trying and failing to make friends for practically his entire life—always aware that there was something he was missing out on—finally finding that something (camaraderie, solidarity, community) was more than worth the decade-and-a-half wait. Toby and Florence were the two coolest people he’d ever met, he still couldn’t believe that they wanted to hang out with him. Looking forward to school rather than dreading it was an unfamiliar feeling, but a welcome one. Gabriel couldn’t wait to talk with them both in art, more focused on telling each other funny childhood stories than doing their work; or to sit next to Florence in English, where they could whisper about the other kids’ novel study projects and try their hardest not to laugh out loud in the quiet classroom; or for him and Toby to be stuck in gym, always partnering up together whenever the activity required it, and then hoping the teacher wouldn’t notice them standing off to the side not actually doing anything.

Summer came and brought walks and picnics and sleepovers. Gabriel’s Mom would knock and poke her head into the room, informing the teenagers that she was ordering pizza and asking what kind they all wanted. They would then sneak bites of their slices between rounds of whatever video game they’d dug out of Gabriel’s collection to play. He’d have to wipe grease and tomato sauce off of his controllers before putting them away later, but he never minded. All three of them would walk to the mall on Tuesdays, when movie tickets were half-price. They’d bring bags or wear clothes with pockets and stock up on snacks from the drugstore before making it to the theatre. When they wanted fresh air or to watch the sunset, they went to the roof of Toby’s apartment building and stayed up there for hours. When Florence dug an old deck of cards out of their desk, all three enthusiastically played whatever games they could remember the rules of.

When school started up again, accompanied by a chill in the air, they would loan each other coats and scarves and gloves. They went trick-or-treating together and went to Gabriel’s house to trade candy and watch a horror movie after (immediately followed by a comedy or Gabriel wouldn’t be able to sleep). The walk to the gas station down the road from North Creek High was an easy, pleasant trip in spring, and a treacherous one in winter; they’d march down the sidewalk, huddled together, arms linked, faces down against the freezing wind, all for a bag of gummies and an energy drink. Gabriel would think about how quickly the first year had gone by, about how much had changed and how much was still the same. He answered the door in the middle of the night one weekend, to find Toby, alone and shivering, in nothing but a t-shirt and shorts while the first snow of the year danced around him, curly hair out of its usual ponytail and tears on his face. After being ushered inside and given a blanket by Gabriel’s Mom and a mug of hot chocolate by his Ma, Toby would mumble about a fight he’d had with his parents and that he was so, so sorry for intruding but Florence’s parents probably would have turned him away and he didn’t know where else to go. Not only had Gabriel’s parents insisted he stay the night, but the following week, they had spare keys made for both him and Florence, in case of any emergency.

It wasn’t until their second summer together that Gabriel first realized… something.

One afternoon, the three of them ended up hanging out at the local arcade. It wasn’t as crowded as they expected it to be on a Saturday. Then again, it was mid-July and beautiful outside. A perfect day for a walk through the park, or a trip to the beach; or, in three teenagers’ case, a perfect day to have the arcade practically to themselves.

The group was tightly-knit by this point and were being their usual rambunctious selves. Well, Gabriel and Florence more so than Toby. Of course, being around the other two had the same intelligence-lowering effect on him as it did his friends, but more often than not, Toby was still the voice of reason. The others, meanwhile, had once been assigned a project where they had to come up with an original board game, and spent nearly the entire period laughing at their blank sheet of paper with ‘blakes and bladders’ written at the top, instead of actually working. Anyways, at the arcade, they were all being stupid. Which was great, and a lot of fun, and it meant that having an epiphany about something major he’d been repressing for who-knows-how-long was the last thing Gabriel was expecting to happen.

They’d wandered off from the group and found a photo booth, and just as they were about to give up on digging enough change out of their pockets to actually use it, someone cleared his throat behind them.

It was Toby.

Gabriel nodded at him in greeting, casually and normally. There was a strange nervousness in their chest that they didn’t think had been there a few minutes ago, but they had a tendency to be awkward—especially when it came to social stuff—so they didn’t pay too much attention to it. Still, it was frustrating that whenever Gabriel got needlessly anxious like this, speaking suddenly became a herculean task, their inner monologue devolving into a frantic shout of SAY SOMETHING which, as one could imagine, didn’t actually help much.

“Um,” they managed after a few extremely long seconds. “You… wanna get some pictures taken? With me?”

He did. (Together, they had enough coins, thank god).

It was far too cramped for them both, they were shoulder-to-shoulder.

Gabriel’s hands were sweaty and trembling as they slung an arm across Toby’s shoulders to help free up room. They had no idea why they were so nervous all of a sudden to come into familiar and comforting and normal physical contact with the same person they slept in the same bed with at sleepovers. It was probably just them being the over-thinker they have historically been known to be. Still, Gabriel decided they’d rather be safe than sorry.

“Sorry,” they said, “is this alright?” Their voice was quiet, practically a whisper.

“Yeah,” Toby said shakily.

It was… weird, having this middle-school-esque discomfort with one of their best friends in the world. The two of them hadn’t even acted like this when they first met. Gabriel held as still as they could, wondering why their breathing sounded ten times louder.

The first picture was normal with wide (if nervous) smiles; during the second picture, Gabriel had quickly said, “pretend to punch me,” and the camera clicked just in time for the result to be awkwardly-positioned and blurry on the little screen; the third picture captured them both laughing at the second; and the fourth picture showed Gabriel abruptly stop laughing and freeze in place, with Toby slumped over on them from laughing so hard. Not their shoulder, though—where it probably would have been a lot more socially acceptable for a good friend to shove their face in a laughing fit—their chest. From where Gabriel had moved their arm earlier, when Toby leaned over, his head was more or less on their collarbone. Right under their chin.

It only lasted a second, and Toby barely seemed to notice. When they finally got up and shuffled out, Gabriel’s entire face was warm.

…Which was probably the result of the stuffy booth.

Later that evening, the three ended up on the roof of Toby’s apartment building as the sun began to set. They kept talking, laughing, sharing stories. Gabriel had once slept so heavy, their mom couldn’t wake them when she shouted. Florence tried bleaching their hair in sixth grade and turned it orange on accident. Toby had the opportunity to practice driving when he was fourteen and almost crashed the car. Gabriel found a spider in their room in the middle of the night the summer before last, and slept on the couch. Florence tripped trying to get on a scooter as a kid and fractured their wrist. Toby once spent 30$ on bowling alley fries (it was 5$ a serving. He bought six servings. “They were really good fries.”).

Florence chugged the last of their soda, and announced that they should be getting home. “See you losers later!”

A response of ‘bye’ and ‘see ya’ from Toby and Gabriel respectively, and then they were alone. Sitting a hand’s distance away from each other. On the edge of a roof. Facing the sunset. The lighting made Toby look like a painting, from his kind brown eyes to the gorgeous curls hanging from his ponytail. He looked pretty, Gabriel thought to themself… which was, of course, a normal observation for them to have about their platonic friend which didn’t mean anything at all.

After a few moments of silence, the conversation picked up more or less where it had left off. And as the minutes went by, the tone changed from goofing around to makeshift therapy. Specifically, Toby confessed that his parents weren’t planning to let him move out once he graduated (if Gabriel didn’t already hate Toby’s parents, this would’ve done it. They wished he could come live at their house and this was not the first time they’d thought it).

“I just…” He rubbed a hand over his face and took a breath. “The thought of moving out one day kept me going, you know? And now I don’t even know when that’s going to be, and I just don’t know how much longer I can wait.”

Gabriel nodded. “Yeah, I get that. My house is pretty small. I don’t mind it too much, though. But to be fair, my moms aren’t like… that.”

Toby sighed. “Yeah. And now it looks like they’re going to keep looking over my shoulder at everything I do all through college, at least,” he deadpanned. “Yay.”

“Well, what’s stopping you from applying for a dorm, and leaving anyways? You’d be an adult by then.”

Toby hesitated. “I… could, but…”

He was quiet for a minute.

“…I’m trying to be subtle, I guess. My parents really want me to stay with them. I don’t know why. And I love them, but… they don’t…”

All of a sudden, Toby’s face got serious. He turned to look straight at Gabriel.

“Can I tell you something?”

Gabriel’s eyes widened. An idea popped into their head. They pushed it down. “Yeah, what is it?”

“You’re the last person I’m worried will judge me for this, but you cannot tell anyone else, okay? I trust Florence, obviously, and your parents, too, but… I’m just… I want to be able to tell them myself, when I’m ready, you know?”

That could mean anything, “of course,” this could be about anything, “I promise I won’t tell anyone,” don’t get your hopes up.

He was shaking. He was visibly shaking. He took a very deep breath, and let it out very slowly.

…Why am I hoping it’s—?

“I’m gay.”

That’s when it clicked.

Just being around Toby could cheer them up like nothing else could. And whenever they were with him, they felt safe and comfortable, no matter where they were. And whenever he fought with his parents or struggled with schoolwork or even had a headache, Gabriel wished more than anything they could protect him from all of it; they wanted to give him their umbrella when it was raining and their coat when it was cold. They wanted to lift each and every weight off his shoulders for him. And during the dead of winter, when they found out that he’d bought an extra pair of gloves for them—not to give to them, just to keep in the pocket of his winter jacket in case Gabriel needed to borrow them—the thought made them giddy for months after. And when the trio went swimming at the rec centre, Gabriel could barely look at Toby without their face heating up. And he, on several occasions, walked to the gas station by himself during lunch, only to buy them a pack of their favourite gum, because he’d noticed they were having a rough day. And Toby listened intently no matter what they were talking about, and vice versa. He could make any topic interesting effortlessly. And Gabriel enjoyed their conversations so much, they’d spent hours on the phone with him; they never even realized people actually did that, until then.

And there were a million more ands, too many to list. Still, the blinding light in their chest was impossible to describe. No words in existence would be able to capture what they were feeling. But they knew what it was.

The realization was so fresh that, as badly as Gabriel wanted to say all of this right then and there, they were not in any state to do so. But they also knew that if they ignored it, they might shove it down again and never find the courage to drag it back out.

It was too soon to open the door and walk through, but maybe, that evening, they could unlock it.

“Me too.”

Honestly, the fact that it took Gabriel so long to put the pieces together was astonishing, Florence had joked after he told them (he kept his promise, only talking about his own sexuality and leaving out Toby’s). Then they added that they’d suspected it for a while. He told them to shut up. They laughed.

“So?” they asked after they caught their breath.

Gabriel tilted his head at them. “What do you mean, so?”

Florence grinned. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

Nothing.

Well, he didn’t want to do nothing. But every time he tried to say something, he’d chicken out. His heart would bounce around uncontrollably in his rib cage, his hands would shake, breathing would require thrice the effort, and the biggest roadblock was that he was never able to find the words. Sure, he could spend all week daydreaming what he’d tell Toby, but as soon as they were alone together in real life, all of it would escape him, like the titles of every song he liked as soon as someone asked what his favourite was. Gabriel considered writing a letter a few times, but this was something he truly wanted to do in person… as soon as he figured out how.

The first day of twelfth grade was nothing short of bittersweet. Several of Gabriel’s classes were shared with Toby; combined with lunch, this totalled three and a half hours together per day, five days a week, and that wasn’t counting all the after-school and weekend hangouts (which there were a lot of). Still, every time Gabriel thought they might have built up the courage to say something, the words got stuck in their throat. Meanwhile, the more time they spent with Toby, the harder their feelings were getting to avoid. 

Gabriel’s seventeenth birthday arrived, Florence got them a poster of one of their favourite movies, and Toby got them a little stuffed penguin which they slept with on their bed every night. Halloween, trick-or-treating, trading candy, watching horror movies; except this year, Toby dozed off with his head resting against Gabriel’s shoulder, and the taller one had committed to not moving no matter how stiff their neck got and no matter how scared of the movie they were.

On the last day of school before winter break, the trio spent lunch sitting on the floor of the hallway, backs against the row of lockers, to exchange presents. Florence got Gabriel a new video game, and Toby a fluffy blanket. Gabriel got Florence a yellow flannel jacket, and Toby several CDs of his favourite band (which they’d burned themself, they added). Toby got Florence a themed ramen bowl, and Gabriel roller skates. He stammered something about how they clearly didn’t like their old, outgrown childhood scooter, but that they used it because it was all they had to keep up with him and Florence on their skateboard and bike respectively. Gabriel, regrettably, didn’t hear much of this, too distracted admiring their new skates and also fighting to stay calm.

Valentines Day passed them by. Gabriel had almost confessed, then, before throwing out the half-finished letter they’d been scribbling instead of doing their homework. I’ll tell him in person, they told themself, again. They didn’t. Again. They bought cheesy valentine’s cards for both of their friends and didn’t utter another word about the day.

College applications were sent and accepted, learner’s permits were acquired (for everyone except for Toby), Florence missed a week of school after getting their wisdom teeth taken out. Then Easter was gone, then Mother’s Day, then Father’s day, and suddenly finals were over with and Prom was next week.

This is it, Gabriel had thought, I have one week to ask him to Prom. This is it. I’m going to do it.

They didn’t.

Instead, the trio’s original plan to all go together as friends went ahead.

Now, Gabriel was shivering on a bench at a bus-stop, grumbling about the fog because he wasn’t just nervous, he was frustrated. What the hell was wrong with him? He knew how he felt for nearly a year and he still hadn’t said anything? He finally, finally reached the point where he wouldn’t survive another day hiding this, and that he didn’t even care what the answer was going to be (which is what he told himself, but of course he did), he just had to ask.

Tonight, Gabriel thought. In response, his heart started with its stupid ass gymnastics routine again. His leg continued to bounce. It didn’t stop until the bus arrived and he had to stand. Once he was sat down on one of the stained seats, he forced his leg still, picking at his fingernails instead, all the way to his stop. His heart rate steadily increased during the ride. By the time he stepped back onto the sidewalk, he felt as though he had enough energy built up to sprint the rest of the way.

There were a few people mingling outside of North Creek High, sitting on the steps in their formal wear with paper plates and plastic cups. When Gabriel stepped past them, through the main doors, and into the hallway, it was nearly deserted. The blue door leading to the gym loomed down the hall to his left, a million miles away. What, exactly, would he tell Toby? Gabriel wanted to at least have an idea, so that he wouldn’t blank again and miss another opportunity. Or, wait, would he even get an opportunity in the first place? The gym would be crowded and loud, and the trio were planning to all come over to Gabriel’s house for a sleepover after; he didn’t want to make anything awkward or put Toby on the spot by asking with Florence there, but he also would never kick them out of the hangout that the three of them had been looking forward to for months. Speaking of awkward, actually, what about the very real possibility of Toby not feeling the same? Then what? What if this whole thing was a mistake? What if Gabriel tore apart the first friend group he ever had? He nearly smacked his face on the door that he was suddenly right in front of.

Breathe, he told himself. Standing there and slowly managing to inhale, he took the chance to run a hand through his hair, adjust his glasses, tighten his tie, and check that the red chrysanthemum was still secured to his chest. 

His sneakers were glued to the tiled floor, and Gabriel found that when he tried to go into the gym, he couldn’t. The muffled music and shouting taunted him. There had been a small handful of other moments before in his life where he was paralyzed with fear, enough so that by this point, he knew how to break out of it.

He didn’t enter the gym, he only took a step towards the door. He didn’t enter the gym, he only rested his hand against faded posters and chipped blue paint. He didn’t enter the gym, he only applied pressure on his arm and pushed. He didn’t enter the gym, he only looked into the crowd of people illuminated by flashing overhead lights and surrounded by music. He didn’t enter the gym, he only stepped forward again.

And then he was in the gym.

And it was as loud as he’d been scared it would be, but Gabriel quickly realized his biggest problem was the lighting. He walked slowly, scanning the room, keeping close to the wall, and squeezing past people where it was necessary. Right when he was seriously considering the possibility that he’d only imagined that he was running late and that his friends hadn’t arrived yet, he caught a glimpse of familiar hair extensions.

“Florence!” he shouted.

They turned from where they’d been standing at the snack table and, after a moment of confusedly scanning the crowd, noticed their best friend. “Dude!”

It was the first time they’d ever willingly worn a skirt, and they were kind of rocking it. It was red, matching their bow tie, and went down to their ankles, just above their black dress shoes. The top half of the outfit consisted of the top half of a standard suit, a white dress shirt and black jacket. Gabriel felt basic just standing next to them, in his rental suit that made him look like a Men in Black extra. The only thing that set him apart was the flower, and he wouldn’t even be wearing it if not for his friends. The group hadn’t wanted to traditionally match their outfits, but they did want to have something in common; that something ended up being the colour red.

“I just got here,” he yelled (jeez, it was a pain trying to talk with the noise—not even from the music so much as the other students), “where’s—?”

“I dunno,” they replied, knowing who Gabriel was looking for without him having to say it. “We were hanging out earlier but then he wandered off. Or I wandered off. I saw him over there last.” The louder music faded as Florence spoke, and the crowd quieted down too, thank goodness. He followed where they were pointing, at a corner on the opposite side of the expansive room, specifically at the hidden set of stairs leading up to the stage. Gabriel remembered how it was a popular spot for kids trying to avoid participating in gym class, and figured it was as good a place as any to start looking.

“Thanks,” he told them, relieved to be talking at a normal volume again.

They grinned at him. “You two have fun. I’ll be here by the food.”

Gabriel turned back towards his destination and, after analyzing possible routes, decided to just cut through the middle of the gym. There was a small crowd forming in the center, away from the other students and clearly getting ready for a slow dance, but everyone was still finding their places, and the music hadn’t started yet, and Gabriel was convinced that if he was quick, he could slip through them and be out of the way in time.

He broke out past the perimeter of tightly-packed students and into the makeshift circle where the dancers were more spread-out. It was much easier to move then, and Gabriel practically jogged past the couples. Still, he somehow managed to accidentally knock shoulders with someone whose name he didn’t know, just a few feet away from rejoining the masses, and no matter how badly he wanted to keep going, he instead turned and apologized. The other kid waved him off and said it was all good. He nodded and shuffled a few steps backwards before moving to tur—

“Gabe?”

Gabriel stopped where they were and spun around.

For the second time that night, they felt pathetically underdressed.

Toby was—handsome didn’t cut it. Beautiful, maybe. There wasn’t a word in English—or in any language, probably—to describe him. He wore a wine-red dress shirt, with black pants and, instead of a jacket, a matching black vest. His hair was styled in the same ponytail he always wore it in, but the hair tie was a stunning gold, with an eye-catching bow on one side.

Gabriel could only really stare and grasp helplessly at their plain black tie and wonder how the hell they were going to pull this off.

And as if they weren’t already smitten, Toby was staring right back at them, looking equally awestruck for some reason. And it was probably just wishful thinking, but they could have sworn they saw a hint of blush on his face. Gabriel heard but didn’t register the start of the slow-dance music.

He smiled. “You look great.”

And his voice—and the way he said it—

And Gabriel was blanking again.

SAY SOMETHING, they freaked out, like normal, until something changed. A new thought process; so faint that Gabriel almost missed it and had to truly focus to hear it through the waves upon waves of panic.

DO SOMETHING

Gabriel held out their hand. Toby took it.

The next few minutes were the slowest of Gabriel’s life. They wouldn’t have it any other way.

They weren’t much of a dancer, not many high schoolers were, but they quickly got the hang of the motions. Stepping and turning, mostly. Gabriel’s attention was fixed on their own arms, resting on Toby’s shoulders, and his arms, holding their waist. And, for the second time since the two of had known each other, Gabriel nearly froze up when Toby leaned forward to rest his head on their chest (deliberately, this time), before they managed to find the courage to lean forward, too, just to be closer to him. When the pair started moving again a moment later, Gabriel felt more comfortable as they became familiar with the dance, even spinning Toby around at one point (they were so terrified of messing up, but the smile on his face after was worth it). After that, either the lights got brighter, or Gabriel was becoming hyper-aware, they couldn’t tell which. Even still, the only thing that mattered to them in that moment was the person right in front of them.

Something shot through their body, some electrifying spark of confidence, and all of a sudden, Gabriel moved their arms beneath Toby’s, pulled him to them, lifted him up, and actually—literally—spun him around. For just a moment after, he laughed, warm and bright. And then there was fear in his eyes.

Confused, Gabriel glanced over their shoulder at whatever Toby was looking at, and saw—everyone.

Shit, how did they forget they were surrounded by a crowd? And a crowd of teenagers, of all things, who all seemed to be watching the two of them.

What had been an almost pleasant nervousness just a few seconds ago was rapidly turning back into panic as Gabriel frantically looked around, glancing every which way and being met with nothing but staring and disgust and mocking laughter.

Distantly, Toby murmured, “everyone’s looking at us.”

Gabriel wanted to get out of there and they wanted to get Toby out of there and they wanted to go where no one could see them and they wanted the attention to stop and they wanted to stop making a scene and they wanted all their classmates to forget seeing them together and—as they watched several judging gazes fall not on them but on Toby—they wanted everyone to leave him alone.

Toby… might’ve said something, then. Gabriel honestly wasn’t tuned in enough to hear if he had. All they knew was that, one moment, the pair was frozen mid-dance, and the next, Toby was hugging them.

And they felt horrible about pushing him off as soon as they did it. They knew, somewhere deep down, that they couldn’t let fear keep them away from him. But in that moment, the fear itself was so overwhelming, it drowned the thought out. Gabriel didn’t want to fuel the fire, to give their peers more of a reason to hate them, or to hate him.

One of Gabriel’s favourite things about him was how expressive he was. It was his eyes, mostly. ‘The eyes are the window to the soul,’ they’d heard someone say once. There seemed to be very little in between Toby’s soul and whatever—whoever—he was looking at.

In that moment, they could see heartbreak betrayal, clear as day.

Gabriel didn’t get a chance to explain themself before someone shouted, “hey!” An adult voice. One who sounded suspiciously like the shitty social studies teacher no one liked. And, while what they were doing wasn’t illegal or anything (in North Creek, at least), the two of them were probably still going to get an earful from either the guidance counsellor or the principal or both, about being ‘school-appropriate’. And worse, they were more than likely going to get some of that earful right then and there, still in front of all those eyes; Gabriel could hardly picture anything more humiliating than getting loudly told off in front of people their age. And when it also occurred to them that the school might go so far as to contact their parents—to contact Toby’s parents—

Gabriel couldn’t let that teacher get anywhere near the two of them.

So, instead, they grabbed Toby’s arm and made a beeline for the exit.

They had to shove a few people, but most quickly stepped out of the way on their own. Luckily, there were several doors to and from the gym, one even leading directly outside. Luckier still, the snack table was between the pair and that exit, allowing them to grab Florence on the way out (not grab, really. More like, run past shouting, “go, go, go, go!” to which Florence snatched two cookies and their drink before jogging after their friends).

The trio burst into the night—chilly, windy, and starting to get dark, but thankfully not foggy anymore—and booked it down the sidewalk. They made several turns and crossed a few streets before they finally slowed their pace.

As they all gasped for breath on the side of the road beneath an underpass, Gabriel’s ability to think critically and rationally returned, and…

And it didn’t matter, Gabriel realized. It didn’t matter what the other kids at school thought about them, not only because they were graduating in a week, but because some kids’ judgment was nothing compared to the feeling of dancing with Toby. 

It was the best thing that had ever happened to them.

“Gabe?” a timid voice said.

They turned to face him.

“Back there, I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

SAY SOMETHING

“I—I understand, if you don’t feel the same.”

Gabriel noticed the watery glint in his eyes.

“I don’t blame you at all. And,”

SAY SOMETHING

“I still had a lot of fun, with you, tonight,”

he took in a slow, shaky breath,

“and I don’t mind staying friends, if—”

DO SOMETHING

Gabriel grabbed his shoulders and kissed him.

They pulled back almost immediately. Too much, too soon.

They stuttered and stumbled through an apology, before being cut off when Toby grabbed their face and pulled them back in.

He was a few inches shorter than them, and they had to tilt their head down to reach him. Gabriel’s glasses pressed awkwardly between their two faces, but they didn’t dare try to remove the frames, scared that this would end. They wanted it to last forever. Toby’s hands were still cupping their cheeks, and they placed one of their own hands over one of his. Gabriel’s other arm wrapped around Toby’s back, holding him close. He was warm and soft and he tasted like soda. Their heart was trying to claw its way out of their chest to get to him. Gabriel wanted to do this again and again and everyday for the rest of their lives.

The taller half of the pair broke the kiss only because he was running out of oxygen. He fought off the burning in his lungs for as long as he could, but eventually had to lean back and gasp for air.

Toby chuckled. “Breathe,” he whispered.

Gabriel mumbled something that sounded like ‘uh-huh’ and happened to glance over to where Florence was standing. When he saw that they were completely motionless and facing the other way like the guy from The Blair Witch Project, he was so caught off guard that he couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Toby raised an eyebrow and looked over, and then laughed, too.

“You guys done?” they said, still not moving.

“Yeah,” Gabriel wheezed.

At the same moment, Toby responded, “for now.” If Gabriel wasn’t already flushed, that would’ve done it.

Florence took a deep breath as they turned back around.

“Finally!” they shouted. “I have been listening to you two weep over each other for, like, a year now! Oh, don’t tell him any of this, Florence. Don’t tell him I said that, Florence. You have to promise you won’t. And you guys are my best friends, and I’m a man of my word, so I didn’t. Not once. But oh my god, I wanted to. Oh, but what if he doesn’t like me back—? from both of you! In the same day, sometimes! You freaks nearly drove me crazy!”

By the end of their rant, Gabriel was struggling to breathe all over again. Toby was still laughing next to him, too, and Florence joined in a moment later. Inside, he was giddy. From both of you.

The group couldn’t stay out for long before Gabriel’s parents would start getting concerned. So, the pair fully separated, untangling their hands and fixing their outfits and giving Gabriel the chance to wipe the smudges off his glasses. As soon as they were back on his face, Toby casually reached over and grabbed his hand. Gabriel beamed at him as they started walking.

They probably looked strange, dressed in clothes too formal for an evening walk through the windy suburbs. They definitely got some weird looks from the other customers in the gas station when they went to restock on snacks (those two cookies only lasted so long). Well, it was more likely that the staring had less to do with their outfits and more to do with how loud they were being. And the fact that Toby and Gabriel didn’t once let go of each other’s hand.

As soon as they were out of the store, Florence stopped and flipped open their phone, squinting at something on the little screen. The other two stopped as well, turning to their friend.

“Shit,” they mumbled.

“What is it?” Toby asked

“My dad changed his mind,” they groaned, “I can’t sleep over tonight.”

“Aw, what?” Gabriel didn’t think anything would be able to put him in a bad mood for the next month at least, but this was still a massive bummer. All three of them had really been looking forward to that sleepover.

Florence brushed it off. “It’s okay,” they said, “I’ll probably swing by for breakfast tomorrow, if your moms don’t mind?”

He didn’t even need to ask his parents. “Of course they won’t mind.”

With that settled, as the sun finally set, they walked Florence home. It was colder out, by then, and Gabriel’s other hand was just about numb. The wind had fully swept all the fog away (if you don’t like the weather, wait ten minutes), revealing a bright moon and a decent amount of stars, considering North Creek’s level of light pollution.

Quiet laughter and music seeped from the other houses on Florence’s street into the night air. Their own house was silent and dark. On the front steps, they pulled Toby into a hug, and Gabriel dropped his hand for the first time in at least an hour, awkwardly standing off to the side, head turned to examine the sidewalk behind him. He’d had occasional moments like this ever since meeting the other two, where he suddenly remembered they’d known each other for years longer than they’d known him. But then he felt one of Toby’s and one of Florence’s arms both reach out to drag him into the huddle, and he smiled.

After Florence went inside (having promised to hold onto the group’s snacks for their next hangout and not eat everything themself), Gabriel hesitated. They were alone with Toby for the first time that night, and for the first time since… well. They wanted to talk to him about it, to finally tell him everything they had been feeling since last summer. When they turned to him, they noticed he was rubbing his hands together. His sleeve fell back for a split second and Gabriel caught a glimpse of the goosebumps on his forearm.

“Oh,” they said immediately, “here.” They removed their black coat and draped it across Toby’s shoulders.

He stared up at them for a moment, before smiling. “Thanks. We, um... we should probably start heading home, too.”

They took his hand again. I waited this long. I can wait a little longer. They smiled back. “Alright, let's go.”

Despite their destination being Gabriel’s house, they decided to walk a few paces behind Toby, letting him lead the way. Which he did for a long while. They lived in a bit of a different area, still technically within walking distance, but farther than the pair had anticipated. Gabriel wasn’t complaining. 

Their conversations were suddenly few and far between compared to earlier in the night when Florence was with them. It was still nice. The silences were comfortable, and not truly silent as Gabriel could hear their own heartbeat clear as day, picking up noticeably whenever Toby rubbed his thumb over the back of Gabriel’s hand, which was frequently (don’t think about kissing him). A good few of the houses they passed had something going on inside. Most had the sound of voices, either from real people or from TVs. Dogs barked from several more—sometimes directly at Gabriel and Toby—scratching and pawing at whatever window or fence separated the animals from their targets. From a small handful of homes, there was the unmistakable sound of small children laughing.

At one point, they passed an elementary school with a fenced, grassy field, which contained a playground. Being well after all the actual students would’ve gone home, the only figures visible within the fence were a group of kids, younger than Gabriel and Toby—maybe around middle school age. By the looks of it, the group wasn’t doing much more than sitting around on the playground equipment, talking too quietly for any passersby to hear. Two of the kids glanced up and watched silently as the couple trudged by.

They finally turned the last corner onto Gabriel’s street. The smell of smoke from someone’s backyard bonfire filled the air as the teenagers climbed the front steps, and Gabriel saw Toby swatting at mosquitoes out of the corner of their eye as they unlocked the front door. Inside was dark, aside from flashing lights coming from a room down the hall; and it was quiet with the exception of explosion sound effects and quick-paced, tense music coming from that same room. Ma’s still up watching TV, Gabriel noted to themself as they left Toby for just a moment, walking towards the living room, poking their head in, and talking to their mother (quiet at first, then louder to be heard over the shouting actors). When they turned and came back to Toby, he noticed they seemed a little shyer than before.

“You need to borrow some PJs?” they murmured, despite the fact that the TV was really blaring.

“Oh, yeah,” Toby said as he took off his shoes and placed them neatly by the door. “That’d be good, thanks.”

Gabriel did the same, and the two of them went upstairs, where Gabriel dug through the dryer and located the sweater and basketball shorts that Toby usually wore whenever he slept over on short notice, and a t-shirt and flannel pants for themself. They’d left him in their room to change and went to the bathroom to put on their own on pyjamas, when the giddiness from before came back full force. Gabriel couldn’t wait to get everything off their chest. They didn’t have a plan, and for once, this didn’t scare them.

What did scare them was the sight of their Mom standing in the doorway to their bedroom, talking to Toby. Well, not scare, just startle. They’d assumed she’d already gone to bed. Also, not that their parents were strict, but Gabriel was a little worried about the sleepover still being allowed to go ahead, first with how they felt about Toby, and now without Florence being there.

“Hey, Mom.” Gabriel sounded completely normal and not anxious at all. They gently scooted past their Mom and into the bedroom, where Toby was sitting sheepishly on the edge of Gabriel’s bed with his hands resting politely in his lap (and with his gorgeous hair down which Gabriel was also normal about). “What’s up?”

“Oh, just saying hi to Toby,” she responded. “Now, how about you? How was your night?”

Phew. They let themself relax. “Really good.”

“Anything interesting happen?”

Nevermind. “Uhh.” Gabriel glanced frantically at Toby, whose wide-eyed expression they couldn’t decipher. “Not… not really?”

“…No?”

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“…Alright. Well, goodnight, kids.”

PHEW. “G’night, Mom.”

Toby added, “goodnight, Mrs—”

“For the last time, just call me Rose,” Gabriel’s Mom chuckled.

“…Sorry, uh… Mrs Rosalie?”

Gabriel grinned. “I think that’s the best you’re gonna get, Mom.”

She sighed as she closed the door, and Gabriel didn’t have to see her face to know she’d rolled her eyes as well.

And then it was just the two of them. For real this time. Not on the sidewalk of a fancy neighbourhood. In Gabriel’s bedroom.

They stared at each other for a moment. Toby was the first to speak.

“So nothing interesting happened tonight?”

“Shut up,” they groaned “I panicked.”

Toby snickered at them while they sat down on the bed, back against the headboard, legs crossed on the mattress, and facing him. As Toby turned so that he was facing them, too, Gabriel was relieved at the lack of awkwardness between them.

“Honestly,” they continued, “I don’t mind my parents knowing. I just didn’t know if you would mind.”

“I don’t mind, either,” Toby mumbled. “Your moms are the best.”

“Oh, so you’re just using me so you can be around my family,” they joked.

“Yeah,” he deadpanned, “yeah, that’s exactly it.”

This was probably the best—no, second—sorry, third best moment of the night, for Gabriel. They’d been worried that, if Toby didn’t feel the same way about them, he wouldn’t want to be friends anymore, and that even if he did feel the same way, the two of them would act completely different around each other. Either way, Gabriel had been scared that they were going to lose one of their best friends. They were beyond grateful that they hadn’t.

But that didn’t mean nothing had changed.

“…So,” they said finally. “About earlier.”

Toby’s face flushed, Gabriel was more certain of it this time. “Yeah?”

“I…” They took a deep, shaky breath. It’s alright. He sort of already knows this. “I really like you. And I have for a while, and I was wondering if, um, you’d want to go out sometime? On a—like, a date?”

His smile could light up the world at night. And his eyes—gosh, his eyes. “I’d love to. And I like you, too.”

And those were the best words Gabriel had heard in their entire life and they probably should have joked the tension away by saying something like really? I couldn’t tell but they, honest to god, could not find it in their heart to be anything other than completely earnest in that moment.

“Can we kiss again?” they blurted. “If—I mean, we don’t have to, if—if you don’t—”

They stopped stumbling over their words when Toby excitedly scooted closer to them. “Yes,” he said, “please.”

Both of them were a lot more tired than they realized. 

Within a few minutes, Gabriel was lying on their back, watching the person next to them slowly fall asleep. The two teenagers had shared Gabriel’s bed on more than one occasion in the past, but had never been this close. Toby was on his stomach with an arm slung across Gabriel’s torso, which moved up and down with the slow rise and fall of their chest. Their glasses were next to his golden bow on the nightstand. Neither had bothered to reach for the blanket; it wasn’t the warmest summer night, but they had each other. Gabriel shuffled closer to Toby for what was probably the third time in two minutes.

He breathed out a laugh, eyes still closed. “Gabe, ’m trying to sleep,” he mumbled.

“Sorry,” they whispered, unable to resist leaning over and pressing one more kiss to the top of his head. “Goodnight, Toby.”

“Night.”

Despite the warmth and exhaustion pulling him under, Gabriel’s heart rate resembled that of someone on a rollercoaster. That familiar nervousness that always seemed to follow him wherever he went—the anxiety that closed his throat and blanked his mind and made his hands sweat and his knees shake—was, for once, a welcome sensation. He could feel the pressure on his chest move with every breath he took and he could smell Toby’s shampoo (lavender, he was pretty sure) and he could hear quiet breathing aside from his own and he could still taste soda on his lips and, even in the dark and slightly blurry, he could see the most beautiful boy in the world right next to him. Gabriel wanted his heart to sputter as he committed every visible detail of Toby’s face to memory. Where he used to wish he had the ability to remain calm and collected in the face of vulnerability, now he wanted nothing more than to tear his chest open and let all of his emotions bleed across the floor and let his heart run around unrestrained. And he wanted to feel all of it.

Nervousness is the child of fear and excitement; it seemed like Gabriel was finally beginning to feel the effects of the other parent. He couldn’t wait for the future, to get their own place and to run errands together and to fall asleep in Toby’s arms every night. And as tempting as it was to fantasize about, Gabriel didn’t. The future would come to him, all he had to do was wait.

In the meantime, he finally closed his eyes. He didn’t dream that night, not wanting to be anywhere other than where he was.

Years later, during a modest celebration in Gabriel’s parents’ backyard, Florence stands in front of the small crowd with a microphone in one hand and a drink in the other, and recounts the events of prom night. 

It’s funny and endearing, listening to his best friend describe the most important night of his life from their point of view. It sounds more like a stand-up routine than a proper speech, but Gabriel wouldn’t have it any other way. And the guests seem to like it, they’re all listening attentively and reacting expressively to the events of the story, gasping and laughing like they’re watching a romcom. Florence always has been a good storyteller. Way back in high school and college, whenever they started a sentence with ‘guess what happened?’ Gabriel would drop whatever he was doing to listen, wishing he had a bucket of popcorn. Several people cheer and several more laugh when Florence finally gets to Gabriel and Toby’s first kiss and dramatically shouts, “finally!” the exact same way they did that night.

Gabriel is laughing, too, when his left hand is suddenly lifted off the table, and he feels soft lips pressed first to his knuckles, and then to his beautiful new ruby ring. He turns to look at the same man he’d been so scared to admit his feelings for when he was younger; now when he says, “I love you,” it’s as easy as breathing. Toby—his best friend of a decade, boyfriend of eight years, fiancé of three months, and husband of about an hour—meets Gabriel’s eyes and smiles. And it’s the same smile. Despite the changes in his face and demeanour over the years, despite every other emotion that has passed through him, despite everything he’s been through alone and everything they’ve been through together, he has the same smile that he had when he was seventeen, and sixteen, and fifteen. The same smile that Gabriel sees right before he falls asleep and right after he wakes up, the same smile that quiets his fear and lets air back into his lungs, the same smile that he fell in love with; that he keeps falling in love with over and over again.

“I love you, too,” Toby says. It’s nothing new, it’s something he hears almost every day, and yet Gabriel can’t stop himself from tearing up for what is probably the third time in two hours. It’s partially the outfit’s fault, he’s pretty sure. Both of their suits are based on their old prom outfits, with the only real difference being a few altered colours; Toby’s shirt is white and Gabriel’s boutonniere is gold, so now they match completely. Gabriel feels like he’s been brought back to the high school gym with bad music and mediocre food and his first dance with the love of his life, and that feeling keeps getting to him.

Toby reaches forward to wipe the tears away, gently shifting his partner’s glasses off the bridge of their nose. Gabriel leans into his touch with a sigh.

“’Scuse me, earth to the grooms.” The two of them jump and separate like they’re embarrassed to be caught having a moment at their own wedding. Everyone is turned to look at them, which is frightening for a brief moment, but Gabriel relaxes again at the sight of nothing but good-natured smiles, and at the apologetic grin on the best maid’s (best man and maid of honour) face. “Sorry,” Florence continues, voice pouring out of the speakers, “sorry, I need you guys to hear this part.”

“Make it quick!” Gabriel hollers up to the other side of the yard as he readjusts his frames. Almost simultaneously, Toby shouts, “go away, we’re busy!” Florence rolls their eyes while they wait for the laughter of their audience to die down.

“Assholes. Who invited them? Anyways, as soon as we’re done being public disturbances in the local 7-eleven, I get a text from my father which had never happened before and I’m pretty sure hasn’t happened since. But he texts me, like, as the sun is setting the night of, and he says that he changed his mind about the sleepover. The one that was planned about a kajillion years in advance. After not caring where I am or who I’m with once in my entire life. ‘Be home by eight’ dude it’s seven fifty-five and I’m a half-hour walk away—also what prompted this??”

Gabriel chuckles and glances at his partner. The two of them have heard this exact rant about a hundred times since prom night. It’s almost routine. But most of the guests haven’t heard it—not from Florence, at least—so they are very invested and a few people boo at this information. Gabriel, who has spent the entire day focused on Toby (understandably so), takes a moment to appreciate everyone else there. His moms, a handful of Toby’s relatives who’d taken his side and not his parents’, neighbours from their building, a few work friends, Gabriel’s old band (which was a strong word. Their practices involved playing more video games than instruments) from college, several of Toby’s students (“our deal is that if they don’t behave, their final essays are getting shredded.”). It’s… comforting, to be surrounded by such a community at all, and especially today.

He suddenly remembers what was just asked of him not two minutes ago and turns his attention back to Florence. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, cats and kittens. I’m going to tell you a little secret. It’s nothing crazy, it’s not—the second they let me out of their sight I killed someone and hid the body and no one ever found out, it—it’s small, but it’s something I have never told anyone before, okay?

“There was no text. I lied. I’m a liar.”

“What? What?” Toby yells. Gabriel tries to say something, sputters, and then starts laughing hysterically. 

Later, after most of the guests have gone home, Florence is no longer being flocked by teenagers who think that they’re cool, and everyone left has moved inside and out of the drizzle that has since started, the couple ambushes their best friend.

“You piece of shit!” Toby is laughing too much to really sell it, and when he knocks their shoulder, they shove back easily like the two are siblings. “You never told us this whole time?”

Florence shrugs. “I thought you two probably needed some privacy after… everything, and I knew we were gonna have, like, a million other sleepovers.”

“You could have just said that??”

“Naw, then it would’ve been all awkward. Alright, I’ll let you guys get back to kissing now, see ya. Come on, man.”

“Dude, I fully believed you,” Gabriel chimes in. “You complained about your dad for months after.”

“The bit is my top priority. Always.”

“I hope you die,” Toby says with zero bite behind his words and, actually, if you really listen, a hint of affection.

“Yeah. Well. You’re gay.”

“You figure that out just now?”

Gabriel tunes out the bickering as it hits him. Ten years. Ten whole years with these two doofuses. He has to fight to keep from crying again, but his smile is so wide that he thinks it might split his face open.

Later still, after everyone else is gone, Gabriel takes a moment to stretch and crack his back after clearing away the last of the folding chairs and tables, hauling them through the house and into the basement, out of the drizzle which is slowly turning into a shower. He takes deep breath and drags himself back up the creaky, splintery stairs one more time, flipping the light switch and closing the door behind him when he reaches the top. His tie is undone around his neck and his suit jacket has been carefully draped on the back of the couch, the golden flower undisturbed. He glances past the couch and sees his Ma talking to Toby on the other side of the living room. His partner’s back is to him, so Gabriel can’t see the look on Toby’s face when he suddenly hugs her, burying his face in her shoulder like he’s crying. Gabriel is worried for a split second, before he catches sight of his Ma’s smile, half amused and half earnest, and watches her give her adult son-in-law a noogie like he’s ten. She looks up and spots Gabriel.

“And there’s my second favourite son,” she calls over to him, and he fakes offence as he steps around furniture towards them.

“What? That’s not fair, you’re my favourite mom.”

“Keep your voice down before you get us both killed.”

Toby giggles quietly as he steps back and gathers himself, bumping his shoulder against Gabriel’s. The taller half of the pair reaches over and intertwines their fingers, offering a quick squeeze.

“Anyways, you two heading out soon? It’s getting late.”

“Well,” Gabriel relays the consensus that he and his partner had come to when they discussed this half an hour ago, “we’re both really tired, and I had a bit more to drink than I usually do, so we were thinking we could stay in my old room tonight. If it’s alright with you and Mom.”

“Of course you can! Honey, you don’t need permission to stay over—neither of you do, okay?”

Gabriel smiles. “Okay. Thanks, Ma.”

Finally, in the quietest hour of the night, the two of them get to have their uninterrupted, private moment. They’re in Gabriel’s childhood bedroom, getting ready to go to sleep. It’s strange, being here again after so long, especially since the room is barer than it used to be, on account of the fact that Gabriel took lots of his things when he moved into his and Toby’s dorm, and then came back for the rest when the couple got their apartment. But the faded posters are still on the wall, and a jacked that hasn’t fit him since he was sixteen is slung on the back of his desk chair, and a few old stuffed animals are scattered across his old bed. It’s the same bed—same mattress, even—that Gabriel had shared with his now-husband (their heart practically plays hopscotch at the word and they think it will for the rest of their life, which they’re not complaining about) the night of their first kiss. 

…It feels so recent, like he blinked and eight years slipped by. At the same time, the memory of prom night is distant. Gabriel has always had freakishly clear memory, but he only can remember a handful of moments, all of the in-betweens lost. Sometimes it scares him, how quick time moves. He wants to stay here forever, to freeze the world and spend eternity like this, with Toby. And there isn’t really much he can do about that fear; time keeps passing no matter what, not stopping or slowing for anyone or anything… in a weird way, it’s also a comfort. Eight years passed that would have passed anyways, and Gabriel got to spend them with his soulmate. There isn’t anything he would ever really change about that.

He decides not to dwell too much on existentialism or mortality or whatever right now. It’s his wedding night, there’s more important things to focus on—more important people to focus on—one specific person he would much rather focus on. Gabriel glances up at their husband (!) and watches silently for a moment as Toby slips into his improvised pyjamas consisting mostly of his spouse’s old clothes that he dug out of the dresser. There’s something about his composure that Gabriel can’t describe but can still read like a book; he’s overwhelmed, or agitated, or both.

“You alright?” they call over quietly from where they’re sitting on the bed in sweatpants and a tank top.

Toby pauses in the middle of stepping into a pair of basketball shorts, one leg in and one leg out. His breathing is shallow. He mutters, “’s just a headache,” pretending it’s not bothering him as much as it is.

His facade doesn’t work on Gabriel. “Aw, baby, c’mere.”

Toby struggles for a few seconds to balance enough to get his other leg into the shorts, before he gives up and shuffles over in just a graphic tee and his boxers. He sits down in front of Gabriel and leans his head on their shoulder. They kiss his temple and begin to gently massage his scalp. He melts into them, eyes fluttering shut. 

He’s beautiful. “You’re beautiful.”

A weak smile creeps onto his face as he hums contentedly, eyes still closed. “Mm. Thank you,” he murmurs. Gabriel isn’t sure if it’s for the rub, or the compliment, or both, but they whisper, “of course,” regardless.

It’s comfortably quiet, and Gabriel takes the opportunity to mentally rewind and replay the events of the day. He’s not sure he can (or should) decide on a favourite between the vows and the dance, but he keeps coming back to the latter. It was a moment not too different from the present one, if a little less private; the two of them holding each other close, whispering too low for the crowd to hear, only focusing on the other. It felt cathartic, like it was the epilogue of the dance from prom night—this one ending in a kiss instead of a shove, and followed by cheering instead of angry shouts. The silent weight of… something (guilt, maybe?) that had been sitting on Gabriel’s shoulders since that night feels like it’s finally fading away, like a ghost with unfinished business finally getting justice and passing on.

Rain pounds audibly against the window and walls outside. It’s a downpour now, accompanied by violent winds that cause the entire house to creak and groan under the strain of it. Between the rain, the soft light being cast by the lamp on the nightstand, and the close proximity with their husband (!) who could reasonably be described as ‘if-warmth-was-a-person’, Gabriel’s eyelids start to feel a little heavy. Yawning, they pull their hands away from Toby for the moment and lean back onto the mattress. They go to remove their glasses, but he beats them to it, carefully lifting lenses off their face and tucking them away on the nightstand. He then lies down practically on top of them and buries his face in the crook of their neck, pressing a kiss to the dip above their collarbone. It has been eight entire years and their heart still short-circuits in response.

Gabriel is trying not to talk so as not to make Toby’s headache worse, but they can’t stop themself from whispering, “can I see your ring again?”

He chuckles softly and rests his left hand on Gabriel’s right one, palm to palm, right next to their head on the pillow. They tilt both hands ever so slightly, so that the back of Toby’s is facing them, and they have a clear view of the gold band—a small, iridescent opal set in the center. They stare at it for several long seconds.

“…We’re married.” Toby’s voice is quiet but there’s a million things wrapped up in it, excitement and awe and amazement and joy and disbelief and love and—

“I know,” Gabriel says, “I still can’t believe it.” It’s taking super-human amounts of restraint to not shout loud enough for everyone in town to hear that they’re married, that Toby asked them to marry him and that they said yes before the question was all the way out of his mouth. But there is nothing they wouldn’t do for him and in the grand scheme of things, keeping their voice down for a little while is hardly anything.

He is audibly falling asleep, drowsiness and exhaustion seeping into every word when he says, “I love you so, so much.”

They’ll never get tired of hearing it and they’ll never get tired of saying it and they’ll never get tired of feeling it and their heart is tearing its way through skin and muscle and bone to get to him and they can’t believe how far the two of them have come from the very first night they danced together and then fell asleep together in this exact bed and they want the rest of their life to be like this.

Gabriel can’t wait for the rest of their life to be like this.

They reach over to the nightstand and switch off the lamp, covering them both in darkness. “I love you more. Goodnight, Toby.”

“Night, Gabe.”