Josh had never seen Mark's apartment so crowded. There was Michelle, the usual gang — Zoe, Dan and Sam — and a few other people with whom Mark wasn't quite so close, but who he still counted among his friends. Josh had met them all at various points in time, though he had the hardest time remembering their names. There were also a few friends of Michelle's, and if the apartment was already small for previous birthday parties, it was a can of sardines when the number of attendees doubled.

The table where they usually played board games had been set aside, currently holding a number of finger foods meant to serve as dinner, an assortment of drinks, including Josh's favorite brand of energy drink, and enticing desserts. He picked a plate and helped himself to a slice of cheesecake, eyes scanning for his best friend.

Mark had a kind of glow to him, as if he were walking on air instead of being elbowed in the ribs or back, sometimes both, by every other guest, and he wouldn't stop smiling. Michelle, too, seemed to float on clouds, which was quite a feat for someone walking in very real, undeniably fashionable high heeled boots. And there was Emery. Emery, who looked right at home, chatting left and right with people Josh hadn't even met — Michelle's people, then — who all looked like they knew him. Which made sense, considering how many people ended up using his services once both Mark and Michelle sang his praises.

Once upon a time, Josh remembered, Emery had mentioned he wasn't good at interacting with clients. That it was Roger who served as a mouthpiece, as a PR expert. This man wasn't that Emery. It was only now, with the benefit of hindsight, that Josh realized not all of Emery's aloofness had been a result of shyness or poor social skills. That it had likely been a byproduct of Emma's impending death, and of the time Emery had been unwilling to waste explaining things he perceived as simple to those less gifted than himself.

Granted, he was still direct and abrupt, but it was clear these people had been treated to his best side at some point, and not just his dismissive attitude. Emery wasn't hiding anymore, and it made him appealing. Handsome. Beautiful, even. He'd finished whatever conversation he was having for the time being and seemed content to stand closer to the kitchen, surveying the room much as Josh himself was. Their eyes met. Josh looked away first, towards his plate. This wasn't supposed to be a night about Emery.

He tried a piece of his cheesecake to clear his mind; at the explosion of flavor, he rushed over to Emery, navigating the overpopulated room to share his delicious discovery before he could think it through. "Have you tried the cheesecake? It's so good it's probably illegal in some states."

He loved it when the corners of Emery's lips curved upwards because of something Josh said or did.

"I haven't. Is it truly that good, or is it one of your quirks, like the leftovers?"

Josh speared another piece of cheesecake and held his fork in front of Emery's mouth. "Try it and see for yourself."

Emery opened his mouth so Josh could feed him, and couldn't disagree that it was, as far as cheesecakes went, a work of mouth-watering art. There were too many people between the two of them and the table to go and get Emery a slice of his own; relatively secluded in their own corner, it felt only natural to continue sharing.

#

Somehow everyone had managed to sit down for dinner, spread out between couches, chairs and the rapidly-shrinking floor space. Emery was sitting right beside him on the floor, looking dignified and composed; it would be unkind of Josh not to brush away the single crumb that had settled on Emery's tie, or to fix said tie afterwards. If Josh leaned a little into his orbit in the process, it was only so he could be certain there were no more crumbs to be brushed. There was a softness in Emery's warm brown eyes, crinkled at the corners the way Josh found so endearing, that he'd never seen in public. It made him want to —

The tinkling of a fork against a glass interrupted his thoughts. He sat up straighter, looking at Mark, who was sitting next to Michelle on the couch, strategically moved to the center of the room beforehand.

"I have something to say. You thought all you had to do was show up, eat my food and look pretty but, no. You have to listen to my speeches too. The door is locked, by the way, for those of you planning on making a run for it." All over the room, people laughed. Josh's stomach tightened in fond anticipation, knowing what was to come.

"I invited you all over," Mark continued with a grin, "to celebrate my 45th birthday, yes. We won't be having another of these parties here, by the way — there are just too many of you these days, so expect something different next year. But, anyway. That was just half of it. I've also invited you here to witness a reenactment."

Michelle huffed a laugh, her eyes shining, dimples made obvious by the curve of her smile.

"The reason why this is a reenactment, in case you're wondering, is that I like all my organs intact. If I'd dared do something like this without doing it in private before, I don't think there'd have been much left of me to bury. But now I get to make a grand production."

He rose from the couch only to fall to one knee in front of Michelle amid a chorus of "Ohs" and "Ahs," with a wolf whistle from Sam. Somewhere across the room, Zoe and Dan shared a brief look before dragging their eyes from one another and setting them on the happy couple once more. Josh would never understand those two, but he'd given up trying.

"Michelle: if I'd have known all I needed to be this happy was to almost run you over, I'd have driven to your front door and chased you down with my car years ago." Everyone laughed, including her. "When I saw you fall in front of the car, I have to admit, the only kind of contract that flashed through my eyes was a lawsuit." More laughter. "Instead you got up, dusted off your clothes as if it were nothing, and walked straight into my life and my heart without asking my opinion on the subject. It's a very high opinion, in case you were wondering," he added conspiratorially, addressing the room even though his eyes never left Michelle's. The laughter that ensued was softer now.

Mark had told him about having gone through with the proposal the night before, had actually called Josh once Michelle had fallen asleep because he was too over the moon to be able to fall asleep himself. It had been an intimate, heartfelt moment between two people who loved each other; it had, according to him, been beautiful, but there had been no grand speeches like this. Michelle's eyes were moist. Josh's weren't exactly dry either.

His fingers found Emery's on the floor and intertwined with his. Emery stiffened for a moment then tightened his fingers back. Josh caressed the back of Emery's hand with the fingers of his other hand, eyes fixed on the scene in front of him for fear of giving too much away.

"I love you more and more every day," Mark continued, and something inside Josh twisted, longing for the chance to so freely declare his feelings without past history holding him back. He wondered if Emery would look like Michelle did now, torn between love and wonder, if things had worked out differently between them.

"For whatever mysterious reason, I haven't scared you off yet, so I have to ask." Mark opened a small box, a glittering ring inside it. "Will you make an even happier man out of me and marry me?

Michelle ignored the box in favor of kneeling in front of Mark on the floor and kissing him for the longest of times. Josh looked away, feeling like a voyeur for witnessing the moment, and his eyes met Emery's without meaning to. He felt suspended in time, the room fading away into oblivion, reduced to their interlocked fingers and eyes. He wasn't smiling, and neither was Emery. Breathing felt like an impossible task.

What would he lose if he leaned in and kissed Emery? If he said to hell with history and slights? It wasn't as if he believed Emery would laugh in the face of his love again, if that had even been what had happened between them that night.

But he didn't lean in. His heart and his mind seemed to agree, yet his body wouldn't obey, just as it hadn't the day before. Would it move the other way, if Emery were to do the leaning in himself? Would Josh actively refuse such a gift? He didn't think so, but Emery would never put that theory to the test, Josh knew. Emery was aware of the hurt he'd dealt, and far too grateful for the second chance at life Josh had afforded him, to ever risk doing something Josh wouldn't welcome. Did Emery even want to? Josh thought he did, most days — now in particular — but he could never be sure. He'd been sure once before, and that had led nowhere good.

"Yes," Michelle said, soft but audible, "I'll marry you, you silly romantic man. Now look what you've done." Her voice was choked. "You've ruined my makeup."

The rest of the room seemed to breathe collectively as Mark slid the ring on her finger, even though her positive answer had been assured before the night had started, and soon people were waiting for their turn to greet the happy couple. Josh and Emery didn't budge from their spot on the floor, people moving around them as if they were part of the furniture.

What would it be like, to ask a question like Mark's, and have it answered in the affirmative? To hear 'Yes. Yes, I love you enough to want to commit to being with you for the rest of my life and, even if things break apart at some point in the future, you'll always know I loved you enough for that once'?

"Emery?" he asked, not knowing what he was going to say.

"Yes," Emery replied, and it didn't sound like a question. Fuck.

Josh rose abruptly, pulling Emery up with him and letting go of his hand at last. "Let's get in line to say congratulations."

Emery's smile was tight and pained as he replied, again, "Yes."

The hardness in Mark's eyes when he accepted their congratulations was unfamiliar, but Josh couldn't pinpoint what could have caused it.