— t w e n t y - o n e —

WITH REED'S WRIST OUT of commission, Oliver was left to tackle the green slopes on his own. It was only one day of this that he came to the conclusion it was nowhere near as fun when he wasn't with Reed, without anyone to tease or laugh with when he epically failed at slopes little kids around him skied down with ease. So he decided to just give up on the slopes altogether and join Reed in trying to find entertainment elsewhere in the resort. He had been tempted to do this from the first day that Reed couldn't go skiing, but seeing as he was literally on a skiing holiday, it felt wrong to give up that quickly. At least he could safely say that although he had come to a resort designed for skiing, he much preferred Reed's company to any of that.

Surprisingly, it wasn't hard to find ways to pass the time while the others took to the slopes. The pool became a more significant element of the holiday. They would usually go in the morning, racing each other in adjacent lanes, although Oliver refused to let Reed go for too long in case he fucked up the healing of his wrist. They wandered the market that was open every Tuesday and Thursday, advertising cheeses and cold meats and wine. They ate out for lunch a lot more, returning to the cafe they liked best for the exceptional toasties. But a lot of the time, they just hung out at the chalet, sprawled out on the sofas watching movies on the huge TV, drinking an obscene amount of hot chocolates, lazing about in the hot tub so much Oliver was surprised they didn't end up permanently pruned.

Between all the time they spent together and sharing a bed, Oliver couldn't help feeling like it all came a little too close to something that could be classified as dating. Not that anything had happened between them. They teased each other daily, toeing that line between friendly banter and flirting with more boldness with every passing day. They stuck to the sides of the bed Reed had been very clear in assigning but sometimes, when Oliver happened to wake in the night, one of them had crossed the invisible boundary down the centre of the bed. Often times it was both of them, practically cuddling as they shared the sheets and each other's warmth. Reed was always already up and out of bed by the time Oliver woke up in the morning; Oliver had no idea if they were still tangled together like that when Reed woke in the morning, careful to extract himself before it could lead to awkward conversations.

Oliver caught Reed watching him sometimes, his icy gaze so piercing it left him tingling over. But Reed would always look away when Oliver turned to catch his eye. Reed refused to talk about anything that strayed into the territory of the two of them, even when it was Oliver very blatantly teasing to the point of outright saying it to his face. He just deflected and sniped until the topic was changed.

Oliver didn't know how much longer he could keep living like this, caught in this limbo of longing and desire that was so close he could taste it. He didn't know how much longer he could settle for Reed's presence and nothing more.

One evening, the four of them decided to spend the night in the hot tub despite the fact night had fallen and the air was bitingly cold. As long as Oliver kept his body completely submerged in the water, it wasn't too bad. Clair had disappeared inside and returned ten minutes later, clutching something behind her back.

"Ta-da!" She revealed a large bottle of champagne, all green glass and gold foiling. It looked like it had cost a fortune. She dove back into the water with a satisfied smile. "I know, I'm amazing. Feel free to fall over yourself with praise."

Adam seemed to have no intentions of doing anything like that. "Have you lost your mind?" he hissed, snatching the bottle from her. "If my parents found out you stole this from them — "

Clair snatched it back with a look that could have frozen hell over. "I didn't fucking steal it from your parents," she snapped. "But thanks a lot for assuming I'd do something like that. Nice to know you think so highly of me."

Oliver exchanged a weary look with Reed. While things had been great between the two of them, Adam and Clair's already fraying relationship was two seconds from completely falling apart. They were arguing more frequently with each passing day, over the most stupidly insignificant things. It seemed as if they went out of their way to pick fights with each other and on the rare occasion they weren't arguing, there was a constant sense of uneasy tension between them. It had gotten to the point they weren't even skiing together, but going off to find their own slopes to ski in the day. Oliver was finding it exhausting just being around them and Reed's patience for their sniping was even shorter.

Oliver really didn't understand why they hadn't broken up at this point. Maybe it was a sense of self-preservation seeing as they were stuck in a different country on holiday together; maybe their relationship had gotten so dysfunctional that this was normal for them now.

"Where the hell did you get it from, then?" Adam demanded.

"One of the shops down in the village. Is that good enough for you?"

"No. You just walked in and what, they gave it to you? They didn't ID you?"

"No, you prick, they didn't ID me. The cashier was obviously flirting with me," she said, with a haughty toss of her hair. "Not only did he not ID me, but he gave me a discount for it. That's the only way I could afford this." She glared at Adam like he had slapped her. "I thought I would treat you, get something nice to drink other than shitty beer."

"Oh, of course, I see. You treated me by flirting with the cashier." Adam nodded in mocking understanding, so exaggerated it was clearly sarcastic. "Thanks, Clair. That's great. Really great."

"Do you want the fucking alcohol or not?"

"I do," Oliver said, before this heated exchange could totally ruin their evening. They only had a few more nights left of this holiday and he wanted to enjoy them as much as possible, relationship drama aside. "I'll go grab us glasses."

Reed jumped out of the water like it had shocked him. "I'll join you. No way was I being left with those two," he muttered, as the two of them headed into the warmth of the chalet. Adam's parents had just left for dinner and most likely wouldn't be back for hours, so they'd be fine to have a couple of glasses each now. "They're unbearable, and that's coming from me."

Oliver laughed. "The most unbearable of them all."

"Precisely. Should someone tell them to shut the fuck up?"

"I'm pretty sure you have before," Oliver reminded him, grabbing four plastic flutes from the cupboard. "It clearly didn't work."

Reed huffed. "Do we really have to spend the rest of the evening with them?"

Oliver paused, slowly closing the cupboard and turning to face Reed. "Are you suggesting an alternative plan?" he asked.

He didn't know whether it was the question, or the way he said it, but something seemed to shift between them. The air suddenly felt charged and electric. Reed's gaze flicked down to Oliver's mouth, heated in a way that sent sparks shooting down Oliver's spine. Oliver let his own gaze roam down Reed's body, the toned lines of his torso and the water dripping from his hair, making it very impossible to focus on much else. Oliver wanted to touch him so badly it felt like a physical need and he saw that need reflected in Reed's face. Reed's fingers twitched by his side and he curled them into fists.

His voice was low and husky when he said, "Maybe."

"Okay," Oliver said, and took a step towards him.

That seemed to startle some of the reality back to Reed and he took a hesitant step back. "But unfortunately," he said, looking away even as the roughness to his voice gave away how affected he actually was, "the other two are the ones with the very expensive champagne. It would be a shame to let that go to waste."

With that, he turned and practically fled. Oliver had to resist the urge to growl in frustration. This was always how it went. They teetered so close to something, the possibility of more right within their reach, and then Reed would retreat back into his shell too abruptly for Oliver to even comprehend what he had done wrong. He didn't give a shit about the champagne, no matter how expensive it might have been and how dramatic of an argument it's acquisition had triggered. He wanted to kiss Reed and would have happily thrown away any other plans for the night to do just that. But evidently, that wasn't happening. So he grabbed the flutes and resigned himself to an evening of trying to diffuse tension.

By some miracle, Adam and Clair had calmed down enough that the argument was no longer verbal when Oliver joined them outside. It was clear they were still annoyed at each other; there was at least a foot between them in the hot tub and they would barely even look at each other. Still, Oliver was willing to take what he could get. Reed still wouldn't look at him but Oliver tried not to think about it as they popped the champagne and poured themselves out glasses of fizzing bubbles. It wasn't long before they'd polished off the whole bottle and with all them tipsy enough to be on the way to drunk, the atmosphere had eased up a little. Clair was back on Adam's lap, winding her fingers through his hair. Reed sat close enough to Oliver that their legs were pressed together.

"Okay, okay," Clair said, flapping her hands to get everyone's attention. "I propose a game of truth or dare."

Oliver tried not to wince. Truth or dare had been one of his and Reed's favourite games when they were kids, and he was sure they both remembered all too clearly how that last disastrous game had ended. Disastrously enough that it had ruined their friendship for five years and Oliver had only just managed to fix the shattered pieces back into a semblance of friendship again. He glanced at Reed and knew from the way he was already watching Oliver that his thoughts were taking a similar route.

"Yeah, no," Reed said. "Pass."

"Second that," Oliver said.

"You guys love truth or dare," Adam said, with a questioning look between them. "It was all you ever wanted to play at sleepovers all those years ago. I remember being dragged into one too many of those stupid dares."

Oliver was all too aware of Reed, so close that he felt the way he tensed up. "Things change," Oliver said, and wondered if he imagined the way Reed swallowed.

"Ugh, fine," Clair said. "Let's play a different game, then. Never have I ever?"

Oliver said, "No way," at the exact same moment as Reed exclaimed, "Fuck no." The last disastrous game of that was far too fresh for either of them to have forgotten it even if they tried. They'd spilled more than enough secrets in that basement and Oliver didn't trust either of them to keep a better handle on things this time around. Reed was so tense beside him now that Oliver wanted to put his hand on his leg. But he knew that wasn't a good idea, not with Adam and Clair sitting across from them.

"You guys are so boring," Clair complained, twining both arms around Adam's neck and dropping her head against his shoulder. "But I supplied the drinks tonight and this is Adam's holidays, so your opinions are irrelevant. We'll play whatever game we want. What do you think, babe?"

"Truth or dare," Adam said. "For old times sake."

"For old times sake," Reed echoed, looking a little like that simple statement was a death sentence. He glanced at Oliver, who shrugged in response. It would be interesting, that was for sure. "Okay, fine. Whatever. Truth or dare it is."

The game started off tame enough. It was small things such as dares where someone had to suck someone else's toes (Adam kicked up such a fuss about this one, but they convinced him to do it in the end) and truths of saying who someone thought was the fittest person in their year (this one almost sparked another argument between Adam and Clair). Reed was dared to do a streak through the snow around the chalet and Oliver was dared to do a mystery shot prepared by someone else, some kind of oily vinegar concoction that was almost bad enough to make him throw up

"For fucks sake," Oliver said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, unable to stop himself grimacing. He cast a glance at a grinning Reed. "Let me guess, that was a recipe of your making?"

Reed touched his chest. "Yours truly, of course."

"I'll get you back for that," Oliver said casually. "Just you wait."

"Oooh, I'm so scared."

"You should be."

"I'm going to need more of a specific threat than that, Oliver. That's something your six-year-old sister would say."

"Lexie would give you a far more detailed description if she was trying to threaten you. But okay," Oliver said, shifting his foot where it rested at the bottom of the hot tub until it was pressed against Reed's, keeping his gaze on Reed as he did so. Reed went very still, but he didn't look away and he didn't move away. Oliver let his lips curl up into a smile at the acceptance of that challenge. "That enough of a threat for you?"

"I don't know," Reed said, and shifted his own foot a little higher up Oliver's. "You tell me."

The air was charged again, sparking in the sparse few inches between them. Oliver felt flushed all over and he didn't think it had anything to do with the hot water, and everything to do with the press of Reed's wet skin against his own. He was suddenly very aware of the fact they were sharing the hot tub with Adam and Clair. Adam was on his phone and barely paying attention to the game anymore, but Clair was studying the two of them with sharp eyes. There was no way she could see the game of footsy they were playing from where she was sitting, not with the way their feet were tucked under the seat of the hot tub out of sight. Yet the way she was studying them like she could see every thing that had ever happened between them put Oliver on edge.

Not that he was moving away from Reed anytime soon.

He should have known Clair wasn't leaving it at that. When it came back to Oliver's turn to play, and he made the mistake of saying dare, she looked pleased. "Amazing," she said, tapping her long nails along the edge of the hot tub. "I have the perfect one for you, Oliver."

"Do you," Oliver said, already regretting his choice. "Can I choose truth instead?"

"Nope, sorry, no take back's!"

Oliver glanced at the others and saw he wouldn't be getting any support from either of them. Adam just shrugged, clearly already bored by this game, and Reed an eyebrow in obvious curiosity. He might go out of his way to piss Clair off when he could, but it was clear he wanted to know what the dare was too.

"Fine," Oliver sighed. "What's the dare?"

He was sure Reed regretted not backing him up on the topic of take back's at Clair's next words.

"I dare you to kiss Reed," she said.

Oliver stared at her and Reed inhaled so sharply he somehow managed to choke on his own breath. Oliver snapped out of his shock to thump Reed on the back, heart suddenly pounding a wild rhythm in his chest. Adam was definitely paying attention now, probably the most attention he had given to anything during this entire game. Clair looked between them and seemed delighted by the reactions she had managed to elicit. When Reed had finally recovered from his coughing fit, he shot Clair a furious look.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded.

"What? For Christ's sake, Reed, it's just a dare," she said, tipping her head with a confused innocence Oliver didn't believe for a second. "I didn't realise you were such a prude that you wouldn't kiss your own best friend, not even for a dare."

Reed turned his furious look on Oliver and the accusatory question in his eyes was obvious: did you tell her? Oliver shook his head, too bewildered to even think about defending himself. The last person he would ever talk to about that night on the roof was Clair. It had to be a terrible coincidence that she would ask that, when the only people who knew about it were Oliver and Reed themselves. No, Oliver thought, with a grim certainty, not a coincidence. Clair wasn't blind and the two of them were getting less subtle with every day that passed. She had obviously figured out that there was something going on between them, even if she didn't know what exactly, and thought it would be funny to turn it into some kind of game for her own entertainment.

As much as Oliver wanted to go ahead with this dare, he knew it was a bad idea. Reed wasn't even ready to kiss Oliver when it was just the two of them and it was clear he wanted to. The last thing he'd want to do was kiss him in front of their best friend and his girlfriend.

"What if I don't want to do the dare?" Oliver asked. "What if I forfeit it?"

Clair smirked. "I didn't realise you were too much of a pussy to do such an easy dare."

Even with all her mocking, Oliver wasn't about to let himself be baited into doing something he didn't want to. "Tell me what the forfeit for the dare is, Clair," he said evenly.

"The forfeit?" She flicked an unreadable look towards Adam before turning to face Oliver, a dangerous gleam to her eyes. "You have to kiss me."

Adam stood up so abruptly that Clair tumbled off his lap and fell into the hot tub with a loud splash. She broke the surface with an indignant splutter and shoved her soaked hair out of her face to screech, "What the fuck, Adam!"

"Precisely what I'm thinking," Adam said, and Oliver couldn't help staring, because he don't think he had ever seen his friend so angry before. He had seen Adam irritated, fed-up, bored; all his default emotions. "What the fuck, Clair. What the fuck is wrong with you? I let you come on this holiday with my parents, a holiday you weren't even invited on originally, and first you flirt with other people, then you flirt with my best friend, in front of me!"

"I'm not flirting with Oliver!" Clair was on her feet too, streaming water and dripping, despite the fact it was freezing cold. The heat of their anger rolling off them in waves seemed to be enough that they didn't notice. "Oh my god, Adam, we're literally playing a game. I don't know why you have to make everything such a big deal! It's almost like you want to pick a fight a with me."

"Oh, that is fucking rich," Adam said, with a humourless laugh. "I'm the one picking fights. Of course. All you've done on this holiday is make life difficult for literally every single one of us."

"This has nothing to do with anyone but me and you!"

"It fucking does when you entertain yourself flirting with Oliver, god knows how often when I'm not around! Fuck this," Adam said, and stepped out of the hot tub, refusing to look at Clair as he snatched his towel off the side. "And fuck you. We're done. This relationship is over."

He stalked inside the chalet and the slam of the door behind him was resoundingly loud. Clair looked on the verge of tears but when Oliver tried to say something, not that he had any clue what to say as he was the last person who knew how to comfort a crying girl, she just scrubbed furiously at her eyes and snapped at him to mind his own business. Clair grabbed her own towel and the slam of the door behind her was somehow even louder.