Micah decided that he'd cried enough for the rest of his life, so he made a late New Year's Resolution to not do that anymore. Period.

In the morning, dazed, dehydrated, and sweaty thanks to having cuddled with Benny all night, Micah sat up and sniffled. His room would have been pitch black if it weren't for the light strips under his bed that he'd timed to the passage of time. It was morning, and Micah was due to work that evening.

Benny groaned into the pillow. "'M phone," he slurred.

Micah searched for it in the sheets. He passed Benny his phone before getting up to reacquaint himself with their shared bathroom.

Which was now shared by an unfamiliar toothbrush.

Brilliant, Micah thought, already getting heart palpitations. He fetched a clean toothbrush from the cupboard and began his day.

When he returned to the kitchen, Benny was awake and coffee was in the works. The living room was cleaned up, blankets folded in the basket, and the television was on once more. They sat together on the couch, leaning into one another's shoulders. Benny tipped his head atop Micah's and sighed.

"God, I missed you," Benny said.

"Did you mean it?"

"Yes." A second passed. "Wait, mean what? That I missed you?"

"That the way you mean to me weighs the same as Hunter to you," Micah said. He turned his head to look at Benny properly—properly, newly-found lens and all.

Micah was flakey, yes, resistant, sure, but he would and had taken Benny back in a heartbeat once their compromise was agreed upon. He would always be Benny's so long as Hunter was kept at a distance.

Had Micah been the one making sacrifices this entire time? He'd thought Benny had sacrificed him for the sake of his relationship when Micah had given up all of Benny, too.

Benny blushed. He leaned away a little, clearing his throat. "I think so. I mean, obviously it's different."

"Obviously. But weight-wise?"

Benny nodded. He was already tearing up again, though his eyes were still pink and swollen. "I feel so awful. I don't know what to do," he cried, high-pitched and frantic. "I-I didn't think I'd have to give up my best friend for the love of my life, but you—I'm—"

"You just have to keep us at a distance like feral cats," Micah said. He shook his head. "And you have to talk to me. And not spend every fucking night at his place or else I'll rip your head off."

Benny nodded, sniffling. He tipped back into Micah's chest, almost spilling coffee in the process.

"So what happened with you and Rory?" Benny asked, glancing up at him. "Did it have to do with Alistair?"

Micah winced. "Kind of. That's where it started."

Benny straightened. "Is it because I brought him up at brunch?"

Micah couldn't lie. Pained, he watched Benny crumble, crying, "I ruined your first relationship...!"

"It's not your fault entirely," Micah sighed, passing a hand through Benny's hair. "I should've talked about him sooner. It was just too... weird and fresh."

"Weird how? Fresh how?"

Micah took a deep, unsteady breath. "Kennedy's been giving him advice. I wouldn't call it dating advice, but she's the reason he knew the parties I was at. If I was at work."

Benny clamped his mouth shut. "I told Kennedy."

Micah sat up straight, staring. "You what. When? What did you tell her?"

"When you got up to get ready I texted her that we cuddled all night and that you didn't want to live with Alistair."

Micah put his head in his hands, folding over his knees.

"I thought she might be able to help you get a place!"

"Benny," Micah stressed, teeth clenched, "I'm pretty sure she's been declining to help me because she wants me to live with him."

Benny flopped back against the cushions, groaning.

"What else did you tell her."

Benny pouted, puppy-dog eyes and all. Micah rose his eyebrows, and Benny caved. "I may have also mentioned that you bawled your eyes out and weren't doing well."

"B-Benny..."

"I'm sorry! I betrayed you again—! Can I pay for my crimes with hugs?"

Micah glared out the window. "Sure."

Benny cashed in on his forgiveness instantly. Micah set his mug aside to properly burrito Benny in a blanket so he'd stop squirming and they could watch Sunday morning cartoons.

Micah almost—almost!—managed to stop thinking about Alistair. Compartmentalization was hard at work, and he wasn't inclined to open that particular can of worms. All he knew was that the worms were writhing, slithering, and would take over his brain if he freed them. To keep them at bay, mental force was required.

Because if he thought about Alistair, he knew he'd do something he regretted. He knew he'd ruin yet another attempt at a relationship—if he could call Alistair's reassurances the previous night a proposal.

It was too late. Micah was already thinking about it and flustering, knees drawing up to his chest. After Rory, he feared there wasn't a single person on Earth with a tolerance for the poison that saturated his entire sexual history.

And even if Alistair was that person, it didn't excuse the lengths he went to and how, increasingly, Micah was beginning to realize that he was in a cage. A cage with a boundary Alistair could control. That Alistair, knowing Micah entirely, could predict Micah's patterns and move the cage accordingly.

But it was a cage nonetheless.

Did he just expect me to not want to move? Micah thought, and more terribly, Had he suggested the apartment-swap because he knows I have nowhere else to go?

Micah was just trying to walk himself out of this thought spiral when a knock sounded on the door. Alistair forgotten, all Micah could believe was that it was Hunter come back to give Micah a piece of his mind.

Micah glanced down at Benny, who looked up at him, confused. "Has Hunter texted you?" he asked.

Benny reached for his phone, which gave Micah leverage to push off the couch and head for the door. Benny startled, scrambling to the floor. "Wait—It might be him—"

Good, let it be, Micah thought, rolling up his sleeves.

"Don't punch him—! Micah!" Benny shrieked, horrified, but Micah was already seizing the doorknob, unlocking it, and yanking it open.

"If you got a problem with—" Micah started, already boiling.

A stranger stood on the other end, slightly out of breath and holding a hot pink box with a note on top. "Hi. Donut delivery?"

"Donut what?" Micah said, accepting the box anyway.

The man saluted him and walked off. Micah leaned out after him, baffled, and looked back at the box the delivery guy left behind. When he turned the note over, he rolled his eyes.

"What is it?" Benny asked as he returned.

"Kennedy sent us donuts," he said, tossing the box onto the counter. Upon further inspection, she'd successfully picked out Micah's favorites. "Shit, this is a good selection actually. You want one?"

"Do I ever!"

The day progressed without issue beyond a temporary pang through Micah's system he could brush aside as indigestion. It was always accompanied by thoughts of Rory, thoughts of Alistair, and a sensation that made him want to thrash and throw a tantrum like he was bound and gagged by Alistair's shibari.

He appreciated having people wealthier than him nearby to help him when he fell, but it was starting to feel pointed. It was one thing to be dressed like a doll and shown around parties by Kennedy, but another to have his autonomy revoked by people with "good intentions". To debate how best to break the news to Micah that his living situation was hopelessly at the whims of Alistair and Benny's desires.

Micah loved Benny, he did, but the writing was on the wall, and the wallpaper was being torn asunder as the week carried on, and Benny spent every other night with Hunter.

Benny was just humoring Micah. Out of courtesy of them being... best friends.

Micah picked up his things from Kennedy's when she wasn't around and Erika was working. It made sense now that every night he'd spent at Kennedy's had been also occupied by Erika. He recognized Erika's favorite mug in the cupboard now, her towels in the bathroom, and her ratty shoes interspersed with Kennedy's on the foyer shoe rack.

She'd been living there for a while.

If Benny had spoken to Alistair, Micah wasn't aware. Graduation was in two months and Benny didn't bring it up. They didn't mention the kitchen renovation, though it was all Micah could think about when he watched Benny cook for them. They didn't talk about marriage, even when Micah caught Benny playing with his necklace.

And Micah wasn't seeing anyone, so there was little else—outside of classes—to talk about.

Anything that deviated from the script threatened to raise Micah's blood pressure.

"Kennedy said she's throwing a party for you," Micah said, casually.

Benny dropped the spatula and his elbow hit the pan handle on the way down. It flew off the stove with a boisterous clatter. Their breakfast splashed onto his shirt.

"Fuck!" Benny screamed, popping his shirt out to avoid third-degree burns.

Micah lurched to his feet, shouting, "Holy shit! Are you all right?"

"Yeah, yeah, you just scared me."

"I scared you? What about your birthday is scary?" Micah snorted. He fetched a handful of paper towels to help clean the mess.

Benny joined him, sighing, "Nothing. Nothing. I just—You know Hunter's gonna be there, right?"

Micah studied him, hand hesitating.

Benny looked up from the paper towels and shrugged. "I know you don't want to see him, but I... don't want to uninvite him."

"So you're okay if I don't go?" Micah said.

Benny blinked. "Is that bad?"

Micah leant back on his heels. Though it hurt, he admitted, "Well, you know I'm not really into birthdays unless a party's involved. And I don't mind skipping a party. We can go out to dinner or something another time."

"Yes! Completely!" Benny cried, thrilled and grabbing Micah's wrist. His hand was full of food.

Micah winced. "Your hand is dirty."

"R-Right! Sorry! I was so nervous to talk to you about that."

Every conversation with Benny went like this now. Feelings. Micah felt like he was an actor on the script of "How to Validate and Talk About Feelings." It was a new dynamic Micah wasn't familiar with, didn't like, and felt awkward engaging in.

But after Rory, Micah had taken sharing his feelings to a whole new level. "I was worried you'd think I was an asshole for skipping your party," he confessed.

"No! Honestly, it's for the best. And I don't mean—Like, I'd love to have you there. But—"

"It's your birthday. You shouldn't have to mediate me and Hunter," Micah said. "And you already know I love you, man. I don't have to be at the party just to say that and give you a stupid present."

"Y-You got me something?"

"Fuck, no, it's on my list of shit to do, but—"

"You don't have to get me anything!"

"Fuck you! Yes I do!"

That night, perhaps to prove she was, in fact, omnipresent, Kennedy called him. "I want you at Benny's birthday party."

Micah was walking back from work, which Kennedy likely knew considering she had his location as was probably watching his little avatar stroll down the block. "I already talked to him. He's fine if I don't go."

"What best friend doesn't attend their birthday party! He's gonna be 23, that's a big milestone! Taylor Swift even made a song about it!"

"Kennedy, that's 22. Not that I know. Don't put Swiftie on my resume."

"Well, you're going."

"I'm not going because Hunter's gonna be there and we'll tear each others' throats out. So." Micah tucked his hand into his pocket and sighed. "I appreciate the effort, though. Really."

"If you were on better terms with Hunter, would you attend?"

"I mean, yeah, but that's never gonna happen."

"Can I organize a lunch tomorrow with you, me, and Hunter?" she said. Micah stopped walking. "No Benny! And I've iterated to him what I'm iterating to you right now: What happens at the lunch never reaches Benny's ears. Benny won't know this is happening."

"You—He accepted?" Micah said, started to sweat. "Why would he accept?"

"Why, were you gonna decline?"

"Yeah, obviously. Why would he want to talk to me?" There were several obvious complaints he was sure Hunter had with him.

He didn't hear what Kennedy said, but it didn't matter. He'd made up his mind. "Yeah, I'll meet him," Micah said. "Fuck. I wish it was summer so we could get an outdoor table."

"You know, I had that same thought. Less of a hassle if you two start a commotion. But it's not like you're gonna turn the restaurant into a WWE match."

Micah said nothing.

"You're not gonna turn the restaurant into a WWE match, right?"

"Right," Micah said, unconvincingly.

"Practice writing what you want to say to him!"

"This isn't classwork. Don't give me homework."

"You'll regret it if you don't. Just practice!"

Kennedy added the event to his calendar and titled it: Sexiest United Nations Meetup. Micah rolled his eyes.