Not Casual
Monday morning, Callum wanted his photograph.
Ryan had barely sat down before Callum leaned across Noah.
“The one beside the rock.”
Ryan dropped his backpack beside the seat. “Good morning.”
“Morning. The photo.”
Noah opened his laptop. “You waited two days to ask?”
Callum looked at Ryan. “I was giving you time to send it.”
Ryan stared at him. “You have 84 photographs.”
“83,” Callum corrected.
Noah turned. “You deleted one?”
“It was blurry.”
“Growth.”
Callum ignored him. Ryan pulled out his phone. “I found the skink. Surely that gives me some ownership over the documentation.”
“You saw something move.”
“It was the skink.”
“After I told you it was.”
Ryan looked genuinely offended. “I said, ‘Is that it?’”
“Exactly.”
“That is identification through interrogation.”
Callum stared at him. Noah smiled. Two weeks ago, Ryan and Callum had barely known each other. Now Noah sat between them while they argued about intellectual ownership of a reptile sighting. Ryan eventually found the photograph. “This one?”
Callum leaned across Noah to look. “Yes.”
Ryan sent it. Callum immediately picked up his own phone to check it had arrived. Noah glanced down as he opened his gallery. The photograph appeared. Then Callum swiped once. Noah caught sight of the next image.
“Wait.”
Callum stopped. “That one.”
It had nothing to do with the skink. Noah and Ryan stood several metres away beneath the trees. Ryan was holding out one of the drinks he had brought, and Noah was taking it from him. Neither was looking towards Callum. Ryan was saying something. Noah was laughing. That was all.
Callum looked at the photograph. “Oh. I think I took that while I was checking the light.”
Ryan leaned across Noah’s other shoulder. “Why do you have a photo of us?”
“I have 83 photos from Saturday. You’re in several of them.”
Ryan studied it. “Huh.”
Noah said nothing. There was something strange about seeing the two of them from outside himself. No Grindr. No bedroom. No deliberate flirting aimed at getting somewhere. Just Ryan handing him a drink while Noah laughed at something he had said. They looked comfortable. More comfortable than Noah remembered feeling at the time.
Ryan glanced at him. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Ryan looked back at the photograph. “You want it?”
Noah hesitated. “Yeah.”
Callum sent it without comment. A second later Noah’s phone buzzed. Ryan looked over his shoulder as Noah opened the image. “I look good.”
Noah laughed. “Of course that’s what you noticed.”
“You look all right too.”
“Generous.”
Callum had already returned to his own phone, examining the photograph Ryan had sent him. “Actually, this one’s good.”
Ryan leaned across. “Obviously. I took it.”
“It’s crooked.”
“Artistic.”
Noah laughed. Ryan looked at Callum. “You could at least acknowledge that I found the skink.”
“You saw movement.”
“Movement that turned out to be the skink.”
“After I identified it.”
Ryan looked at Noah. “He’ll never give me this.”
“Probably not.”
Eleanor arrived a moment later and looked between the three of them. “What happened?”
“Ryan found a pink-tongued skink,” Callum said.
Ryan leaned back triumphantly. Noah slowly turned towards Callum. Callum closed his eyes. “I hate both of you.”
Eleanor looked confused. “Long story,” Noah said.
Callum did not consider that an acceptable reason not to tell it. By the time the lecturer arrived, Eleanor knew where the skink had been found, approximately how large it was, which photographs Callum considered usable and why Ryan’s contribution remained “important but overstated.” When Eleanor casually called it a lizard, Ryan corrected her. “Skink.”
Callum stopped talking. Ryan smiled. “I learned.”
Callum looked almost proud. Noah noticed that too. A week ago, Ryan joining them had been unusual enough for Callum to comment on it. This morning nobody had. Ryan had simply arrived, sat beside Noah and joined the conversation. Somewhere between practicals, the beach and one unnecessarily serious reptile hunt, the three of them had become something resembling a group. Noah glanced once at the photograph still open on his phone before locking the screen. Ryan apparently belonged in more than one part of his life now.
Tuesday practical returned them to station twelve. Noah arrived first. Ryan appeared less than a minute later, pulled on his lab coat and placed the practical sheet beside the bench. Noah looked at it. Then at him. Ryan noticed. “What?”
“You read it.”
“I always read.”
“Before the practical.”
Ryan looked offended. “I’m capable of development.”
Callum passed behind them on his way towards Eleanor. “He knows what a skink is now too.”
Ryan pointed after him. “Exactly.”
Noah smiled. “What are we doing?”
Ryan looked down at the protocol. “Protein quantification.”
Noah stared at him. Ryan smiled. “See?”
“This is unsettling.”
The practical itself was almost disappointingly successful. No mixed buffers. No inexplicable readings. No calculations requiring rescue. They prepared the standards, measured absorbance and produced a calibration curve that behaved roughly as it should. Ryan did most of the calculations while Noah entered the results. At one point Noah looked at the graph and frowned. “This feels suspicious.”
Ryan leaned closer, shoulder pressing firmly against Noah’s through the lab coats. “What?”
“It worked.”
Ryan nodded seriously. “We should report it.”
Noah laughed. Their shoulders remained pressed together for several seconds longer than the graph required. Neither moved. The contact no longer carried the uncertainty it had during their first practicals. Noah knew what Ryan felt like beneath his clothes now. Knew what he looked like asleep. Knew the weight of Ryan’s arm across his stomach. Knew the exact heat and tightness of Ryan’s body when Noah was buried inside him. That knowledge existed quietly beneath everything else. They could still do science. Mostly. Noah’s jeans brushed against his bare cock every time he shifted; the sustained contact with Ryan made him half-hard by the time they finished the curve.
Near the end of the session, Callum arrived at their station carrying his laptop. “Can you two look at something?”
Noah turned towards him. “What?”
Callum set the laptop between them. “Our standard curve.”
Eleanor appeared behind him. “One point is wrong.”
“Potentially wrong,” Callum said.
“It’s an outlier.”
“It may represent biological variation.”
“We made standards from the same stock.”
Callum looked at Noah and Ryan. “You see what I’m dealing with?”
Ryan leaned towards the screen. Noah did the same, their thighs pressing together under the bench. The point was clearly sitting away from the line. Ryan frowned. “Did you repeat the reading?”
“Yes,” Eleanor said.
“Same result?”
“Almost.”
Ryan nodded. “Then something probably happened when you made that standard.”
Callum considered it. Noah watched him. A few weeks ago, Callum would probably have waited for Noah to answer. Now Ryan spoke first and Callum listened with exactly the same attention. Not because Ryan had suddenly become the authority. Because Callum trusted him.
“What would you do?” Callum asked.
Ryan pointed at the graph. “Keep it in the raw data, exclude it from the regression and explain why.”
Noah nodded. “That’s what I’d do.”
Callum looked between them. “So Eleanor wins.”
“Yes,” Ryan and Noah said together.
Eleanor smiled. Callum closed his laptop. “I preferred both of you before Saturday.”
“No, you didn’t,” Ryan said.
Callum thought about it. “No.”
He returned to his station. Ryan watched him go. “Progress.”
Noah smiled. “Definitely.”
They finished ten minutes early. Callum and Eleanor left together, still arguing about whether an outlier could possess character. Noah packed his laptop into his bag. Ryan zipped his own. “What are you doing now?”
“Gym.”
Ryan looked interested. “With Marcus?”
Noah paused. “Yeah.”
The corner of Ryan’s mouth moved. Noah immediately recognised the expression. “No.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were going to.”
“I was going to ask if I could come.”
Noah stared at him. Ryan stared back. “You?”
Ryan frowned. “What do you mean, me?”
“You go to the gym?”
Ryan’s expression changed from confusion to genuine offence. “Yes.”
Noah looked him over deliberately - shoulders, chest, the way the T-shirt sat across his torso, the soft outline already visible at the front of his chinos. Ryan noticed. “Wow.”
“What?”
“You’ve seen me naked.”
“I’m aware.”
“Several times.”
“I remember.”
“And somehow you’re surprised I exercise?”
Noah laughed. “I didn't say you looked bad.”
Ryan stared at him. “I certainly hope not.”
“You just never mentioned going to the gym.”
“I go a couple of times a week.”
“How did I not know that?”
Ryan folded his arms. “I assumed you'd looked at me at some point.”
Noah laughed harder. Ryan shook his head. “This is actually insulting.”
“I've looked at you.”
“Apparently not very carefully.”
Noah let his gaze move deliberately from Ryan’s shoulders down his chest and stomach, lingering on the soft bulge at the front of his chinos before returning to his face. Ryan watched him do it. “Better?”
Ryan considered. “Somewhat.”
“You're ridiculous.”
“And yet you invited me to stay Saturday.”
“I withdraw the invitation retroactively.”
“You can't. I already used it.”
Noah smiled despite himself and pulled his phone from his pocket. “I still have to ask Marcus.”
Ryan leaned against the bench. “Ask him.”
“You’re really coming?”
“I need to train.”
Noah looked at him again, eyes dropping once more to the clear outline in Ryan’s trousers. Ryan pointed. “Stop doing that.”
“I’m reassessing the evidence.”
Ryan laughed. Noah opened his messages.
Ryan wants to join us. That okay?
The reply came less than a minute later.
Lab Ryan?
Noah glanced at Ryan. “He knows who you are.”
“I made an impression.”
Noah stared at him. Ryan smiled. “Too soon?”
“Always.”
Noah typed:
Yeah.
Marcus replied:
Sure.
Noah showed Ryan. Ryan picked up his bag. “Excellent.”
“You invited yourself.”
“I know.”
“Just establishing that.”
Ryan slung the bag over his shoulder. “High standards.”
Noah stopped walking. Ryan continued several steps before turning around. “What?”
“You are not saying that in front of him.”
Ryan grinned. “I wasn't planning to.”
“You were thinking about it.”
“Can't regulate thought yet, Commando.”
Noah caught up with him. “I regret introducing you to everyone.”
“No, you don't.”
Noah looked at him. Ryan smiled. Annoyingly, he was right. Noah’s jeans brushed against his bare cock with every step; the conversation had left him half-hard already.
Marcus was already warming up when they arrived. He looked towards the entrance as Noah and Ryan came through. Ryan wore dark shorts and a black training shirt that fitted closely enough for Noah to feel mildly stupid about the conversation they had just had. There was, objectively, evidence - the lean lines of Ryan’s arms and shoulders, the way the fabric clung across his chest, the soft outline of his cock against the dark shorts. Marcus pulled one earbud free. “You made it.”
Noah nodded towards Ryan. “He followed me.”
“I was invited.”
“You invited yourself.”
Marcus looked between them. “Good start.”
Ryan held out a hand. They had met Saturday, but mostly across a crowded lounge. “Ryan.”
Marcus shook it. “Marcus.”
“I remember.”
Something about the way Ryan said it made Noah look at him. Ryan's face remained perfectly innocent. Noah narrowed his eyes. Marcus missed it entirely. “What are you training?” Ryan asked.
“Upper body.”
Ryan nodded. “Works for me.”
Marcus looked at him properly then. “You train?”
Ryan glanced at Noah. Noah immediately knew what was coming. “Yes,” Ryan said. “Apparently this surprises people.”
Marcus looked at Noah. Noah held up both hands. “He never mentioned it.”
Marcus smiled. “Right.”
Ryan pointed at Noah. “Thank you.”
“You haven't done anything yet,” Marcus said. “He might still be right.”
Ryan looked at him. Marcus replaced the earbud around his neck. “Warm up.”
Noah smiled. Ryan looked at him. “You enjoy this?”
“Immensely.”
Marcus trained differently when someone new joined them. Noah noticed that almost immediately. With Noah, Marcus already knew what weights he could handle, where his technique slipped when he tired and exactly how many extra repetitions he could force out of him by refusing to accept the words I’m done. With Ryan, he watched first. They started with presses. Ryan completed his first set. Marcus looked at the plates. “Too light.”
Ryan sat up. “I just did twelve.”
“You could have done fifteen.”
“How do you know?”
“You stopped looking unhappy.”
Noah laughed. Ryan turned towards him. “You brought me here deliberately.”
“You invited yourself.”
Marcus added weight. “Again.”
Ryan stared at the bar. Then Marcus. “You do this for fun?”
Marcus shrugged. “Mostly.”
Noah leaned against the next bench. “Welcome.”
Ryan completed the next set with considerably less commentary. By the final repetitions his jaw had tightened. Marcus stood behind him, hands hovering near the bar, close enough that Noah could see the way Marcus’s gym shorts sat low on his hips and the soft outline of his cock against the fabric. “Two more.”
Ryan pushed once. “One.”
Another. “Good.”
Ryan returned the weight and sat up breathing hard. Marcus nodded. “Better.”
Ryan looked towards Noah. “That felt judgmental.”
“It was,” Noah said.
Marcus moved to Noah next. The familiarity returned almost immediately. Noah lay back. Marcus adjusted the weight without asking. “Same as last week?”
“Yeah.”
“Eight.”
“Ten.”
Marcus looked at him. Noah smiled. “Ten.”
Marcus shrugged. “Your funeral.”
Ryan sat nearby drinking water, eyes openly tracking the way Noah’s soft black shorts stretched across his hips and the clear outline of his cock as he lay on the bench. Noah started. The first six were easy. Seven slowed. Eight required effort. Marcus's hands hovered beneath the bar. “Nine.”
Noah pushed. His arms shook. Marcus leaned closer, the heat of his body close enough that Noah could smell the clean sweat on his skin. “One more.”
Noah got halfway. The bar stalled. Marcus caught it enough to keep it moving, fingers brushing Noah’s for a second. “Come on.”
Noah forced it upward. Marcus guided it into the rack. Noah exhaled and let his head fall back against the bench, cock half-hard inside the soft shorts from the sustained physical proximity and Ryan’s open staring. Ryan looked at him. “You're an idiot.”
Noah was still breathing too hard to answer. Marcus smiled. “He asked for ten.”
“I've learned not to encourage him,” Ryan said.
Noah lifted one hand and gave him the finger. Ryan laughed. They moved through shoulders and rows after that. Marcus corrected Ryan's elbow position once, placing a hand against his upper arm and shifting it slightly. “Here.”
Ryan adjusted. “Like that?”
“Yeah.”
He repeated the movement. Marcus nodded. “Better.”
Noah watched them in the mirror. Nothing about it was unusual. Marcus corrected people constantly. He had done the same thing to Noah dozens of times. Still, Noah watched - the way Marcus’s hand stayed a beat longer on Ryan’s arm, the way Ryan’s dark shorts stretched across his ass as he bent, the soft outline of Ryan’s cock shifting with every repetition. Ryan met his eyes in the reflection. His mouth curved. Noah looked away, cock throbbing inside the soft fabric.
A minute later Marcus came over to Noah and adjusted his shoulder. “Stop rolling forward.”
“I’m not.”
Marcus pressed two fingers against the front of his shoulder, then slid them lower, correcting the angle with firm pressure. “You are.”
Noah corrected it. “There.”
In the mirror, Ryan was watching, eyes dark, the front of his own shorts showing a clear, thickening outline. Noah saw him. Ryan knew he had been seen. Neither reacted. Noah completed the set. When he stood, Ryan handed him his water bottle, fingers brushing Noah’s deliberately. “Good session?”
“Shut up.”
“I asked a question.”
“You're very interested in my technique.”
Ryan smiled. Marcus was changing weights and didn't hear. “High standards,” Ryan murmured.
Noah nearly choked on the water. Ryan walked away before he could respond. By the time they moved to the last exercise, the three of them had settled into something easier. Ryan stopped treating Marcus like an exhibit Noah had accidentally brought to life, and Marcus seemed to enjoy having someone else around who argued almost as much as Noah did. During a break Marcus handed Ryan the bottle he had left beside the bench. “You play anything?”
“Sport?”
“Yeah.”
Ryan shook his head. “Not properly. Mostly gym.”
“Couple times a week?”
“Usually.”
Marcus nodded. Ryan looked towards Noah. “He said you're brutal.”
“I did not.”
Marcus smiled. “He complains.”
“I’m standing right here.”
Ryan took a drink, eyes lingering on the way Marcus’s sleeveless shirt clung to his chest and the soft outline in his gym shorts. “I’ve noticed.”
Marcus laughed. Noah looked between them. Saturday, Ryan had made Liam laugh. Now Marcus. It should not have meant anything. Probably didn't. Still, there was something strange about watching Ryan fit himself into another corner of Noah's life with apparently no effort at all - and about the way both of them kept looking at him. The gym had belonged to Noah and Marcus. Not exclusively. That would have been ridiculous. But it had been theirs in the way routines became shared without anyone deliberately making them so. Now Ryan was here. And somehow that felt fine too. Noah’s cock stayed half-hard the entire time, the soft shorts doing nothing to hide it.
After the final set, Marcus checked the time. “I’ve got ten minutes before work.”
Ryan stared at him. “You’re going to work after this?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
Marcus looked confused. “Money?”
Ryan nodded. “Strong argument.”
They headed towards the changing rooms. Marcus opened his locker and pulled off his training shirt. Broad chest, dark hair trailing down his stomach, the soft shorts sitting low enough that the thick outline of his cock was clearly visible. Ryan glanced towards the showers. “You’re not showering?”
“No point. We’ve got staff training when I start.”
“More exercise?”
“Not really. Some practical stuff.”
“Still sounds terrible.”
Marcus smiled. “You get paid for this part.”
“That improves it.”
Marcus reached for a clean shirt. Noah looked. He knew Marcus noticed. Neither of them bothered pretending otherwise anymore. Marcus’s eyes dropped openly to the front of Noah’s soft black shorts and the clear, half-hard outline of his cock before returning to Noah’s face. Marcus simply pulled the shirt on and started changing his shoes. Ryan, standing a few lockers away, glanced from Marcus to Noah. Then back again. Noah saw it. “Don’t.”
Marcus looked over. “What?”
“Nothing,” Ryan said.
Noah closed his eyes. Marcus smiled faintly. “That word means something different around you two.”
“It’s become complicated,” Ryan said.
“You’re not helping.”
“I rarely do.”
Marcus shoved the rest of his things into his bag and closed the locker, he then looked towards Ryan. “You’re welcome next time.”
Ryan glanced at Noah. There was that expression again. “Thanks.”
Noah pointed at him. Marcus laughed. “I’m going to work before whatever this is gets worse.” He slung his bag over one shoulder. “Later.”
“Later,” Noah said.
Ryan lifted a hand. Marcus disappeared through the changing room door. Noah waited until it closed. Then looked at Ryan. “Don’t.”
Ryan smiled. “I haven’t said anything.”
“You’ve been not saying things for an hour.”
“I was going to say he seems nice.”
“Sure.”
“He does.”
Noah grabbed his towel. Ryan did the same. Then, much more quietly: “And your standards are fine.”
Noah shoved him towards the showers. Ryan laughed. “You're obsessed.”
“I was curious.”
“You came because of Marcus.”
“I came because I needed to train.”
“And Marcus.”
Ryan considered. “And Marcus.”
“At least you're admitting it now.”
“I never denied it.”
The showers were almost empty. One guy was finishing at the far end, his back towards them. Noah chose a shower several spaces away and turned on the water. Ryan took the one beside him. Noah looked over. Ryan caught him immediately. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“No. You've been doing that since the changing room.”
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me like you've remembered I have a body.”
Noah laughed. “I knew you had a body.”
“Didn't know I went to the gym.”
“You never told me.”
Ryan turned beneath the water, the spray running over his shoulders and down his chest, following the lean lines of his stomach. His cock was already half-hard, hanging heavy and thickening further under the open attention. “You've had plenty of opportunities to inspect the evidence.”
Noah let his eyes move deliberately over him - the wet skin, the silver chain, the way Ryan’s cock continued to fill out under the water. Ryan watched him do it. “See?” Noah said.
“That's better.”
The other man shut off his shower, wrapped a towel around himself and left. The room became quiet except for running water. Noah rinsed shampoo from his hair. When he opened his eyes, Ryan was looking at him. Not teasing now. Just looking. Noah recognised the change immediately. The same shift that happened before Ryan kissed him. Except there was nowhere private to go. Noah glanced towards the entrance. Empty. When he looked back, Ryan's eyes had moved lower, lingering openly on Noah’s cock, which was already fully hard and standing out under the water. Noah smiled. “Subtle.”
Ryan looked up. “You spent half the workout staring at Marcus in mirrors.”
“I did not.”
Ryan's expression said otherwise. Noah stepped closer to Ryan, the gap between the showers narrowing. “You were watching too.”
“I was conducting research.”
“On Marcus?”
“On you watching Marcus.”
Noah laughed, the sound rough. “That sounds worse.”
“It was interesting.”
Ryan's eyes dropped again. Noah was already reacting - fully hard, the head flushed and wet under the spray. So was Ryan. That wiped most of the humour from the moment. Neither moved for several seconds. Water ran over Ryan's shoulders. Noah looked at him. Ryan looked back. “Still surprised I go to the gym?” Ryan asked.
Noah smiled. “Less.”
Ryan's hand moved down his own body, wrapping loosely around his cock and giving it one slow stroke under the water, eyes locked on Noah’s. Noah watched, heat flooding him. There was nothing particularly new about seeing Ryan like this. But here, standing under separate showers with an open doorway behind them and the lingering heat of the workout still in his muscles, it felt different. Riskier. Stupider. Which probably explained why Noah's own hand drifted lower, wrapping around his own hard cock and stroking once in answer. Ryan's mouth curved. “This was your idea.”
“I haven't done anything.”
“Neither have I.”
Noah looked down at both of them - hard, wet, stroking slowly in the open showers. “That's objectively untrue.”
Ryan laughed quietly. For a short while neither of them said anything. The water covered most of the sound. Their eyes kept meeting. Noah could feel the tension building much faster than he had intended - the slow drag of his own hand, the way Ryan’s foreskin slid over the head with each stroke, the mutual awareness that they were doing this in a public changing room with only a partial barrier between them. Ryan stepped half a pace closer, close enough that Noah could have reached out and touched him. Noah’s cock throbbed hard in his fist. Ryan’s did the same.
Then the changing-room door opened. Both of them froze. Voices. Two guys came in laughing about something that had happened on one of the courts. Noah immediately turned back towards his shower, hand dropping. Beside him, Ryan did the same. Neither looked at the other. Noah reached for the shampoo bottle despite having already used it. Ryan made a strangled sound that might have been a laugh. Noah stared at the tiles. “Don't,” he muttered.
One of the newcomers chose a shower farther down. The other continued talking from the changing room. Whatever had been happening between Noah and Ryan was over. At least for the moment. Noah finished rinsing and shut off the water, still hard and aching. Ryan followed almost immediately. They returned to the lockers wrapped in towels. Neither spoke until Noah had pulled on his soft black shorts - the thin fabric clinging immediately to his still-hard cock, outlining every ridge. Then Ryan looked at him. “That went well.”
Noah stared. “You invited yourself.”
“To the gym.”
“You started it.”
“In the shower?”
“You were staring.”
Ryan smiled. “You were doing considerably more than staring.”
Noah threw his damp towel at him. Ryan caught it. “Evidence.”
“Give me that.”
Ryan handed it back, still laughing. They finished dressing. Outside, the afternoon had cooled slightly. For a few steps, neither of them said anything. Then Ryan looked at Noah. “Good workout.”
Noah glanced at him. “You actually mean that?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m surprised.”
Ryan frowned. “Why?”
“You complained through most of it.”
“That’s how you know I was enjoying myself.”
Noah laughed. Ryan adjusted the strap of his bag. “Marcus is good.”
Noah looked over. “At training.”
Ryan smiled. “Obviously.”
“Right.”
They walked a little farther. Then Ryan added, “I get it now.”
Noah knew exactly what he meant. “You’re not saying it.”
“I didn’t.”
“You were about to.”
Ryan’s smile widened. “Your standards remain acceptable.”
Noah shoved him lightly with one shoulder. Ryan laughed. “There it is.”
“You invited yourself purely to investigate him.”
“Not purely.”
Noah looked at him. Ryan shrugged. “I did need to train.”
“Apparently.”
“And I was curious.”
Noah smiled. “About Marcus?”
Ryan met his eyes. “About you with Marcus.”
That caught Noah slightly. Ryan kept walking. “Different thing.”
Noah followed. He wasn't entirely sure it was. His soft shorts still clung to the residual hardness; every step reminded him of the open showers and the way Ryan had stroked himself while watching him.
Wednesday felt ordinary until Noah got home. Claire's shoes were beside the front door. That was normal. She had been at the house often enough that Noah barely noticed them anymore. Sophie sat at the kitchen table with her laptop. Marcus stood at the bench eating directly from one of his meal-prep containers. Liam and Claire were in the lounge. Noah heard them before he saw them. “We can still go,” Liam was saying.
Claire sat at one end of the sofa with her phone in her hand. Liam was beside her with his laptop open across his knees. She looked up when Noah entered. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
Liam glanced over. “How was uni?”
“Fine.”
Noah put his bag down. Claire looked back towards Liam's screen. “What time do you think?”
“Half an hour?”
Claire exhaled through her nose. Not dramatically. Not angrily. Liam noticed anyway. “I know.”
“You said half an hour before.”
“I just need to finish this section.”
“Okay.”
Liam closed his eyes briefly. “No, don't do that.”
Claire looked at him. “Do what?”
“Say okay like that.”
“What way am I supposed to say it?”
“I don't know.”
“Then I said it correctly.”
Noah suddenly became extremely interested in putting his bag away. He headed towards the hallway. Behind him, Liam said, quieter, “Claire.”
“I know you've got work.”
“I do.”
“I know.”
There was no shouting. That made it harder to pretend he hadn't heard. Noah went to his room. He changed into soft grey shorts, nothing underneath. Opened his laptop. Read the same paragraph three times. Eventually the front door opened. For a second Noah assumed they had finally gone out. Then it closed again. No car. No voices from outside. He waited several minutes before leaving his room. Claire was still there. Her shoes remained beside the door. The lounge was empty. Sophie looked up from the kitchen table as Noah entered. “Where are they?”
She nodded towards the hallway. “Liam's room.”
Marcus glanced up from the sink. Noah looked towards the closed door. “How long?”
“Twenty minutes?” Sophie said.
Something in her voice made him look at her. “What?”
She shrugged. “Nothing.”
Noah almost laughed. Apparently nothing had become the most dangerous word in the house. “Arguing?”
Sophie considered. “Talking.”
That somehow sounded worse. Noah poured himself water. He tried to ignore it. For nearly forty minutes, nothing happened. No raised voices. No door slamming. Just the strange awareness of two people speaking quietly behind a closed bedroom door. Noah sat at the kitchen table and pretended to read. Sophie stopped pretending to work before he did. Marcus washed his container even though Noah had never seen him wash anything immediately after eating. Nobody commented on that either. Then Liam's door opened. Claire came down the hallway carrying her bag. Her eyes were red. Noah knew before anyone said anything. Sophie stood. Claire managed a smile. It barely held. “I should go.”
Sophie crossed the room and hugged her. Claire held on longer than Noah expected. Marcus moved away from the sink. “You okay?”
Claire nodded automatically. Then stopped. Her mouth tightened. “No.”
Marcus waited. Claire took a breath. “But I will be.”
He hugged her too. Briefly. Carefully. Claire looked towards Noah. He stood. For a second neither seemed sure what was appropriate. They hadn’t known each other long. She was Liam's girlfriend. Had been Liam's girlfriend. The thought landed before Noah wanted it to. Claire crossed the room and hugged him. “It was really nice meeting you.”
The past tense landed harder than anything else had. Noah swallowed. “You too.”
Claire stepped back. “I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah.”
She looked towards the hallway. Liam had not followed her out. For a moment her face changed again. Something Noah couldn't quite read. Sadness, certainly. Maybe the same disbelief he felt. Saturday she had been curled against Liam on the sofa, stealing his blanket and arguing about takeaway. Sunday she had walked into the kitchen wearing his shirt and stolen his coffee. None of it had looked temporary. Claire looked away. She picked up her shoes from beside the front door. Sophie followed her. “You want me to drive you?”
Claire shook her head. “I ordered one.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Sophie nodded. Claire opened the door. Then stopped. She looked back at them. “Bye.”
Marcus lifted a hand. Noah managed, “Bye.”
Sophie said her name. Claire smiled once more. Then she left. The front door closed. Nobody spoke. Sophie stared at it. Marcus rubbed one hand across the back of his neck. Noah looked towards the hallway. Liam's bedroom door remained closed. Sophie followed his gaze. “Give him a bit.”
Noah nodded. Nobody returned to what they had been doing. An hour earlier, Claire’s shoes had been beside the front door, familiar enough that Noah had barely noticed them. Now they were gone. Liam's door stayed shut.
