Micah was thought to be in shock, or perhaps dissociating, for the entire week leading up to Benny's birthday party. He didn't know what to buy Benny, but Kennedy assured him that his surprise attendance would be a present enough for Benny. Micah thought this was bullshit.

    Benny was blissfully unaware of the lunch Micah had had with Hunter, which meant the status quo was still ramping up. Living at Benny's again came with slow steps, awkward conversations, and an understanding that Micah would be exiled—or would, most likely, exile himself. He worried that, upon learning that he and Hunter were on limited (and tense) speaking terms, Benny would start to invite Hunter over again.

    I guess we'll find out, Micah thought, trying not to feel nauseous at the thought of Benny's birthday party. To distract himself, he texted James and invited himself over before the event.

    James lived in an ancient building with exposed brick and a roommate he allegedly didn't know a thing about. "I think he grows mushrooms in his room," James explained.

    "Classy," Micah said.

    "I'm surprised you're going to the party. I didn't expect you to change your mind."

    "You and me both," he said, grumbling it off to the side. He crossed his legs, settled back, and said, "Benny likes the color pink. Do you have anything pink to wear?"

    "I have salmon pants?" he offered.

    "Salmon as in the color or salmon as in the fish?"

    "Now that you mention it, I think I have both."

    "Definitely the one with the fish then," he said, just so he could see them. When James stepped out of his room in navy pants with a fish pattern printed on them, Micah said, "Pretty sure those are tuna."

    "Lucky for us, I'm not a fisherman."

    Micah knew for a fact Benny would lose it if he saw those pants, so he said, "Fisherman or not, you're wearing them to the party."

    James flushed. "Don't you think it's overkill?"

    "No way. Do you have a pink shirt, too?"

    "I looked and I don't think it exists." James rolled up the sleeves on his equally loud, patterned sweater. His brow tensed and he shook his head. "I don't know why I'm trying. He's taken, I can't just... You know."

    "He's gonna take one look at your ass in those salmon pants and it'll be over."

    "I highly doubt it!" And then, souring, James collapsed on the beanbag beside him so they both sunk together. "Is it okay for me to say that... if I wasn't still head-over-heels for Benny, I'd date you?"

    Micah stopped breathing. Perfectly still, he listened as James inhaled to take it back, maybe just to speak, but either way Micah was suspicious that James knew about Micah's dating insecurities. He hadn't talked to Benny in detail about them, but Alistair knew.

    Maybe Alistair told Kennedy, and Kennedy told Benny.

    "Sometimes I wish I'd met you first. You wouldn't have... strung me along for four years," James said.

    "You've... liked Benny that long?"

    James laughed a little. "Well, when you say it like that it sounds pretty pathetic. I'd call it a low-level crush for three years, hopeless for the last year. I knew he was dating someone so I think I just sort of... compartmentalized. And then that all went away when he and Hunter broke up the first time."

    "I'm sorry," Micah said. "I wish I knew."

    "Eh. Doesn't matter now," he sighed.

    "He's such an oblivious idiot, holy shit."

    James burst into laughter, moaning, "Don't say that...!"

    "You're, like, entirely his type of guy, too. Dark-haired, moody man with a bleeding heart."

    "Stop—" James' face was red now, covering himself as Micah made cheeky jabs at him.

    Kennedy had rented out the top floor of an arcade for that Thursday. It was the very same arcade Benny had forced Micah to play the claw machine until he won them a stuffed animal, which they still owned (shoutout Sir Walrus in the chat). Sir Walrus' third birthday was coming up.

    The arcade could be found down a long, black-lit hallway filled with neon scribbles and arrows directing party-goers to the stairwell. When Micah and James arrived, people they recognized were just arriving and shrieking at the sight of them. It was bound to be a night full of hugs, that much Micah dreaded.

    At the top of the stairs, he discovered Erika on sticker duty. She glared at him when he walked up, and then glared at James.

    "Hi again," James said.

    "What are you doing," she said, plucking a green star off the sticker sheet like it was one of Micah's teeth.

    "We had class together today," Micah said.

    Erika jabbed the star onto his cheek. He sputtered, bewildered by the hit, which was promptly followed by a yellow heart to his nose. He plucked it off and stuck it on his opposite cheek as Erika moved on to James.

    "Go get 'em, tiger," Erika said, patting James on the back. He sported a lightning bolt on his forehead, Harry-Potter style.

    James giggled, going cross-eyed trying to look at it. "Thanks."

    "Gift table's by the bar."

    The second floor sported a fully-stocked bar, skee ball, and Micah's all-time favorite arcade game, Crystal Castles. He canvassed the area as they fetched cups of pre-paid coins from the entry table, along with name tag stickers. After setting his gift on the table, James approached Micah's side to survey the name tag situation.

    "Fuck—I forgot to write my name first. Can you write my name for me?" James asked, and so Micah ducked down to scribble "James" in all caps with a sharpie on the sticker placed above James' breast pocket.

    Micah stuck his name on and slapped it. "Alright, I'm about to sink an hour into that game over there."

    "Can I watch?"

    Micah rose an eyebrow.

    James grimaced. "I'm nervous. I'll leave once I find someone else I know."

    Micah rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine."

    "But shouldn't we congratulate Benny first?"

    "He's probably swamped." They'd arrived nearly an hour after the start time, after all. Benny was likely still making the rounds, and he hadn't even seen Kennedy.

    Micah marched up to the game with a vengeance. "Time to fuck up some bees," he said, a feral smile on his lips as he slammed his cup down and shoved a coin in like it was his dick. He groaned, forehead to the screen. "I missed you."

    "Jesus," James said, "you really like this game, huh?"

    He dragged his hands down the sides of the game as the first level came on screen. "What I wouldn't give to own Crystal Castles... Let's fucking go, dude! Come on!"

    "D-Don't yell!"

    After two warmup rounds, Micah was making headway on level three and was quick to make it to the top of the measly leaderboard. James was enthralled, staring from over his shoulder as Micah's bear ate up those pesky little dots like they were Cheerios.

    They broke into level four.

    Micah jumped, feral. "Fuck yeah! Holy shit—"

    "What's the farthest you've gone?"

    "Six rounds," came the voice of Micah's horny subconscious. It was Alistair, standing at a distance from Micah's opposite elbow, watching the screen. "With me, anyway."

    "Wha—" James started.

    "Level eight, actually," Micah said, sparing a glare at Alistair.

    "I didn't think you'd come," Alistair said, "pun intended."

    "Ignore him," Micah said to James, who squeaked like a dog toy at Alistair's comment.

    James collected his fallen jaw to say, "I think I'm gonna go get something to drink."

    "I'll be here," Micah said, and once James left, he said, "I gotta focus."

    "So you can't focus with me whispering innuendos in your ear? Skill issue."

    Micah wouldn't realize until the end of level five that Alistair had walked away and was nowhere to be seen. Did I just hallucinate that? Micah thought, returning to the screen. He shook the hallucination of Alistair from his head and went on to lose in the sixth round—level! Level!!!

    "God dammit," he swore, fetching a fresh coin. He glanced around the floor for a familiar face, and when none struck him, he continued. All the while, he felt the sense that Alistair was watching him, even if he was nowhere to be seen.

    Alistair was in the room, at the party, and was purposefully ignoring him now.

    He's probably talking to people, Micah thought, irritated for unknown reasons. He loathed how readily Alistair could ignore him whereas Micah was thinking insane things about Alistair at all hours of the day if he let his mind drift far enough.

    Like how Alistair just expected Micah to live with him.

    Fuck, Micah thought, rubbing his forehead. His bear got absolutely decimated a second later. "Fuck!"

    Before Micah could give it another shot, James returned with two drinks: his own, and a sexy little number that appeared to be a cosmo just for Micah.

    "I asked Erika what you drink," James explained. "Who was that tattooed guy?"

    "Benny's older brother," Micah said, taking a sip. "I should've introduced you two."

    James nodded to the machine. "I take it you lost the game. Can I give it a shot?"

    He observed from beside the machine as James played and died a dozen times using the last of Micah's coins. Try as he might to coach, James was the sort of person to scream and lose control when the monsters got near him. Micah ended up beside himself with laughter before long.

    With no more coins, James had secured a place in the top twenty names on the board. They high-fived just as Micah caught sight of an arm full of tattoos in the next row over.

    He paused to look, but realized it was just someone from their old dorm circle. He relaxed, though it was an odd reminder that any gay or bisexual man in the vicinity had likely had Micah's dick up their ass, and that included the buff, tattooed guy from freshmen year. And now that he was looking around, he caught no less than two previous partners watching him. One smiled, blushing, and the other waved amicably. Neither approached him and seemed to be with their significant others.

    Benny was still nowhere to be seen.

    The present table had grown in size and scale—the staff brought out a second table to accommodate the presents that were currently occupying the floor. Micah blamed the sudden boom in gifts on a New York's uncanny habit of arriving to every function two hours late so as to optimize the most energetic part of the night.

    James dragged Micah to the Dance Dance Revolution crowd where, upon closer inspection, he discovered that this was where Benny had been hiding.

    Micah spared only a second to assess that Benny was absolutely crushing it before scanning the faces around them. As he expected, Hunter was nearby, arms crossed and looking less enthused than everyone else in the crowd.

    At least look impressed, dammit! Micah thought, because he always knew Benny was the best dancer of their group and he was proving it. Right now! Right in front of Hunter's eyes!

    "Oh, there's Hunter," James whispered, nudging Micah.

    "I've been glaring at him for two minutes."

    "M-Micah, lighten up!"

    Micah sighed, dragging his stare away to discover that he'd completely glossed over Alistair.

    Alistair was stationed near the bar now, chatting with someone from an internship Benny had done the previous summer. Micah had gotten a blowjob from that guy at a beach party Kennedy had thrown.

    Every significant party like this came with the expectation that he'd slept with a handful of guests, maybe more. He looked at James and realized he'd probably never experienced something like that. To step into a room and feel the tension, especially if significant others were involved.

    When Alistair glanced at the DDR crowd, he either didn't see Micah or blatantly glossed over him. The intern guy put a hand to Alistair's wrist on the bar, inspecting one of his ring tattoos. Alistair smiled, canines and all, and responded to a question the man had asked.

    "I'll be right back," Micah said, stepping away.

    Micah approached the bar, first in view of the intern then Alistair, who followed the intern's startled, "Micah! Hey. You look—Wow. Great."

    "Thanks," Micah said, arms crossed. The man was staring at his pecs like they were tits, and maybe they were. He'd worked most of his frustrations from lunch with Hunter out on the benchpress that week.

    He glanced at Alistair, raising his eyebrows.

    "I don't have to introduce you two, do I?" Alistair said.

    "No, we know each other," the intern said. "Last summer. We attended a few parties together."

    "Do you mind if I talk to you?" Micah said, pointedly at Alistair. "Alone."

    The condescension in Alistair's grin lit Micah's blood on fire. All-knowing and ever-present, Alistair stepped closer to Micah as he pushed away from the bar and said, "Sure."

    To the intern, Alistair said, "I'll catch up with you later and give you my artist's contact info."

    "O-Okay," the guy said, and was left, dumbfounded, behind them as Micah walked Alistair away from the bar and the crowd.

    Since the majority of the guests had flocked to watch the dancing tournament, the far back row of arcade games was empty. Micah paused at the racing game to lean against the back of the leather seat.

    Alistair sipped at his beer, leaning back to watch the DDR crowd through the gaps in the arcade machines.

    Micah bristled with annoyance. "I don't get it," Micah said, and the return of Alistair's attention was delayed, distracted. "You harass me for, what, less than a minute? And then walk away."

    "I didn't want to bother you," Alistair said. "Did you want to talk?"

    "No," Micah admitted, which made confronting Alistair about this all the more confusing. And embarrassing. Heated and blushing, Micah said, "I just—I got the impression you wanted to talk to me. So say it."

    "I don't want to talk to you," Alistair said.

    Micah's shoulders tightened. "Then why did you even come up to me? You didn't have to talk to me, you know."

    "I just wanted to let you know I was here," Alistair said. "In case you wanted to talk."

    "Well, I don't."

    "Okay then," Alistair said, and walked off.

    Micah threw his hands up over his head as if to tear his hair out. He took a step after Alistair, too, just to drag him back. But what good would that do? Alistair didn't want to talk to him, and Micah had literally nothing at all to say to him. Nothing! In fact, he had so little to say that Micah thought about it for five minutes more, sulking in the racing seats.

    He wanted to demand Alistair explain his thought process regarding Micah's alleged and expected roommate arrangement. What did Alistair expect Micah to do, to be? Grateful?

    Micah picked at the pealing paint on the gear shift, looking completely pathetic.

    The seat next to him rattled as someone collapsed into it.

    Alistair's hand came into view, setting his beer in the cupholder. Micah tracked the tattoos up to the rolled up sleeves of his shirt as Alistair reclined back in the chair and sighed.

    "I'm going to be blunt and make assumptions," Alistair said.

    "Why did you walk away if you had something to say," Micah said, riled up once more.

    "Because I didn't think you were ready for a conversation yet," Alistair said. He met Micah's eye. "But I'm going to ask and you have to think about it. And then answer."

    "Fine. Whatever."

    "Do you know what you want to say to me? Right now. Not—Think about it for ten seconds, I'll count."

    Micah thought about how irritated he was that he was given a time limit because he didn't even know what he wanted to say. If he'd had more than ten seconds, he might know.

    "Okay," Alistair said.

    "No," Micah admitted. "I'm pissed at you, though."

    "I know. I'd be pissed, too."

    "You don't know that. You'd never be in this situation," Micah stressed. "You've always had money. You probably had a credit card at my age, too. You'd have your own apartment, probably wouldn't need roommates, and—"

    "Okay, so I don't know," Alistair sighed. "I'm trying to be realistic here without... holding your fucking hand through it."

    Micah rolled his eyes. Internally, he was thinking about every tab he had open on his phone detailing apartments way out of his price range or way outside of the city.

    In New Jersey. Bleh. He'd never see Benny or Kennedy again.

    "I still don't get why you're ignoring me," Micah said, but felt foolish for saying it. "I mean—You aren't ignoring me. Clearly. I'm just confused. You said all that at the station and now..."

    "Okay then," Alistair sighed. "I'm going to be blunt again. I don't think we're in sync right now. I think you wish I was dead and I—Honestly, I want nothing more than to take you home right now."

    Micah's eyes left the idle screen to stare at Alistair.

    Alistair's eyes were steady until he spoke again. "And I say that risking you pulling away again. It's fine if you do. I get it."

    "Again," Micah repeated.

    "Do you really want me to define the patterns?" Alistair said. "If I say something's inevitable, you're just going to try and prove me wrong."

    Distantly, Micah was aware of the cycle. Kennedy's texts made it clear to him that he'd been avoiding how aware Alistair was of it now. The best way he could think to prove Alistair wrong now was to prove that they were in sync.

    And Micah needed a distraction anyway.

    Micah swallowed hard. "I think it's rude to leave the party when I haven't even said hi to Benny yet."

    Alistair stared at him. "You don't want to go home with me right now."

    "You don't know that. How could you know that?"

    "Then no, we aren't going to my place."

    "Fine, we'll go to mine. At least my place has mirrors."

    Alistair tipped his head back against the seat, closing his eyes. "Micah..."

    Micah leaned past his armrest, gripping the headrest of Alistair's seat. His eyes were on Alistair's barely-parted lips. "Say my name like that again. See where it gets you."

    Alistair tipped his head, opened his eyes, and glared. It shook loose Micah's resolve to be respectful of business property. And he would have climbed onto Alistair's seat, too, if he hadn't heard his name called from down the aisle.

    His head hung. "Fucking hell..."

    Micah turned and found Kennedy, clad in a glittery purple dress with a flared skirt, marching down the aisle. Her hair was up in a bow and her cheeks dotted with neon stickers.

    She put her arms out as he lugged himself to his feet. "Where have you been?! I saw James. He said you got here, like, an hour ago!"

    "I know. Got distracted with Crystal Castles," he said.

    "Damn! I shoulda known that!" They hugged, and since Kennedy failed in her attempt to shake him to and fro, he picked her up and swung her in a circle. She shrieked with delight, heels clicking back on the tiles.

    By then, Alistair had risen to his feet and was drinking his beer. Kennedy startled at the sight of him. "Oh! Oh, my God, I interrupted something."

    "No, you didn't," Alistair reassured.

    "Yes, you did," Micah said.

    Kennedy glanced between the two of them, a smile growing on her face. She swatted Micah. "So you aren't angry?"

    "He's livid," Alistair said.

    "I'm not," Micah lied.

    "He's trying to prove me wrong," Alistair explained.

    "Would you shut up?"

    "See? Livid."

    Kennedy had her fingers over her mouth, watching the two of them bicker.

    Micah pushed his thumb and forefinger over his forehead to stave off the headache. "What do you need me for?"

    "Sex," Alistair said.

    "You need to—Okay, after you say hi to Benny," Kennedy said.

    "Take me to him. Get me away from this strange man," Micah said, and so Kennedy took him by the hand and dragged him away. Alistair went back to sipping his beer and, probably, feeling smug about being right all along.

    It took a while to get to Benny. Familiar faces were more inclined to approach when Kennedy was at his side, and people he'd fucked said hi and focused on Kennedy while their partners looked and glared suspiciously at Micah. Micah rolled his eyes away from those particular conversations.

    He caught a glimpse of Alistair again. The man seemed to know where Micah was at all times because he was an expert in avoiding Micah's glare and pissing him off. He was back to the intern guy. Exchanging... numbers?

    Someone pinched his side.

    "Ow! Fucker," Micah said.

    "Stop glaring. You're harshing the mood," Kennedy chided. The couple had left.

    "You do realize I fucked that guy, right?" Micah said, which caught Kennedy off guard. She glanced after the couple before turning to him. "I'm pretty sure his partner wanted to murder me with witnesses. You didn't notice?"

    "No."

    "What, so me glaring harshes the mood but when your precious little guests do it—"

    "Yeah, well, you're a host by association. And hosts. Don't. Scowl like that!" She pinched his cheeks and pulled them for emphasis.

    He swatted her off of him and massaged the pain from his cheeks. "Whatever."

    The DDR tournament was still ongoing when Kennedy dragged Micah over by the hand. And, surrounded by the eager crowd cheering for the current dancers, was Benny.

    Despite Hunter within inches of Benny, Micah's heart clenched with pride. Even with his back to Micah, he could tell Benny was in his element and vibrating with energy as he always did in a crowd. All smiles, hair wild, fake neon tattoos glowing brilliantly in the black lights. And he was chatting with a nervous James.

    Hunter caught sight of Micah and Kennedy first. His expression, while neutral, was better than the usual hostility Micah felt from him as Hunter tapped on Benny's sleeve to get his attention. And that attention, he directed toward Micah.

    Benny's smile collapsed in an instant.

    Micah stuttered to a halt, only five steps away. He'd never seen that deer-in-headlights look on Benny's face before.

    "Happy... birthday?" Micah said, confused.

    "No," Benny said, urgently. "You—Wait, Hunter—"

    "It's fine. We talked," Hunter reassured.

    "Yeah, I won't tear his throat out unless he does something stupid," Micah said.

    "Easy now," Kennedy said.

    Their honestly impressively nice banter was soured by Benny's inability to calm down. Despite the reassurance, he was already on the brink of what Micah realized was a panic attack.

    "Hey, it's okay," Micah insisted, reaching for him.

    Benny had gone sheet white, clutching his chest. "You—You can't be here—I thought you weren't gonna be here—"

    Micah froze. He didn't... think Benny would hate having Micah in attendance. If anything, Hunter and Kennedy had made it sound like Micah was the cherry on top.

    Hunter was the one to recommend this, he realized, and knew instantly that Benny's entire facade at the apartment was a lie.

    They weren't on good terms.

    Benny didn't want him around at all.

    "Fine, I'll go," Micah said.

    "I don't understand, I thought you wanted him here?" Hunter said as Micah walked away. Kennedy was frozen between the two of them, eyes on Micah and then to where Benny covered his face, tears streaking his cheeks.

    "Oh my God," Benny cried. People were starting to look.

    "Everything's fine, Benny," Kennedy insisted, urging him to walk. Hunter took Benny around the shoulders out of the crowd as their guests stared in horror.

    They walked him to the back row of arcade machines as the hyperventilating started. Alistair was still there, drink aborted at the sight of an inconsolable Benny.

    "What the fuck happened?" Alistair said, stepping out of the chair.

    Hunter sat Benny down, kneeling beside him as Kennedy explained, "I don't know. He just started having a panic attack when he saw Micah."

    "What the fuck? Dude, did you forget he's your best friend or something?" Alistair said, which earned him a glare from Hunter.

    "I can't—I can't breathe—" Benny gasped through a sob.

    "Take your time, there's no rush," Hunter said, hand easing up and down his leg.

    It took a minute for Benny to catch his breath, at which point Benny was in full tears, folded over his knees so his head could drop to Hunter's shoulder. Alistair had claimed the racing seat beside him while Kennedy staved off the concerned guests at the end of the aisle.

    "I-I'm sorry," Benny cried. "I ruined everything."

    "It's okay," Hunter said. "The party's still going. And you're still in the DDR tournament, you know."

    Benny just sniffled, pulling back. "That's not what I mean," he cried. "I-It was gonna be perfect."

    Hunter's brow furrowed.

    Benny slapped his hands down on his lap, crying, "A-And I didn't want Micah here 'cause we've been doing s-so well a-and if he saw me p-propose to you, he'd—"

    Benny broke into a sob, covering his face.

    Alistair stared at Benny's back, beer once again forgotten and nearly slipping from his fingers. He caught it before it could fall, cursing under his breath.

    Hunter had leant back, eyes wide. "You... You were going to propose to me? On your birthday?"

    "A-And now the surprise is ruined..." Benny sobbed into his hands.

    "Well," Hunter said. "I'm already on one knee, so."

    Alistair opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it because Benny had stopped sobbing completely.

    Benny dropped his hands from his face, eyes and nose red from crying. The neon face-paint was in streaks. "You—"

    "I say yes," Hunter said, smiling. "I'll marry you, Benny."

    Benny half-laughed, and then burst into tears. He threw himself at Hunter, smothering his tears into Hunter's neck. Alistair watched as Hunter shut his eyes and buried his smile in Benny's sweater.

    Jesus fucking Christ, Alistair thought and observed from a distance as Benny and Hunter struggled with the chain on Benny's neck. And then, he bore witness to their grandmother's heirloom ring be slipped onto Hunter's finger.