Archive of Our Own

Adam saw them first, the figures standing around the clunker of a car, bright afternoon sun obscuring their faces as Adam shouldered his bag and headed down the street.

“Banks! Adam! Cake-eater!”

A chorus of greetings met Adam and he couldn’t help grinning, dropping his bag as Connie, Guy, and Fulton enveloped him in a crushing hug all together.

“We thought you weren’t coming,” Guy said, sounding genuinely worried as he slapped Adam’s arm, and Fulton grabbed Adam’s bag from the ground, tossing it in the back of the car.

“It’s my parent’s lake house,” Adam pointed out, grimacing at the crunch as Fulton shut the trunk. He wasn’t sure this car was entirely safe. “How were you planning on getting in?”

“Puck to the window.” Fulton shrugged before clapping Adam on the shoulder. “Come on. The faster we get up there, the faster we can crack open that illegal bottle of vodka Guy thinks he’s smuggling in just for him and Connie.”

“Hey!” Guy complained, a hand around Connie’s shoulder.

“I had to swear on my life that nothing would happen on this trip, guys,” Adam said, serious, glancing around at all of them. “If even one of you throws up in a drawer—”

“Would you relax, Banksie?” A familiar voice stopped Adam and he twisted to the car behind him, feeling his heart thud at the sight of Charlie climbing out of the driver’s seat, mouth spreading in a grin as he straightened up, pulled Adam into an all-too-brief, and yet way-too-long, hug. Adam didn’t have enough time to do anything but stand there awkwardly before Charlie let him go, ruffling his hair. “I see you survived without us.”

“I’m more surprised you did,” Adam jockeyed back, somehow able to fall back into the easy banter. He hadn’t been sure, after a year away at college, that he’d still fit in with the guys, with the team.

“Ha ha,” Charlie mocked, rolling his eyes, looking Adam up and down. “How is it possible that you got even taller?”

“You’re just short,” Adam replied, although that wasn’t quite true. Charlie may have been shorter than him by a few inches, but he was strong, sturdy, warm and comforting in a way Adam had forgotten about after being away for so long.

He’d been nervous about coming back for the summer, seeing his old friends, as if maybe college had changed them. It didn’t seem like it, though, as Charlie barked out a laugh, slinging an arm around Adam’s shoulders just the way he used to.

“I missed you, Banksie,” was all he said, all he had to say for Adam’s stomach to flutter nervously as Charlie dragged him to the car. “Now let’s get this show on the road, right, guys?”

The rest of the guys cheered in agreement, piling into the car, and Adam was the last in, taking a breath before sliding in next to Guy. Surrounded by his old teammates, he didn’t say anything as the car sputtered to life and rolled into the street.

*

Birds twittered in the trees, sun dappling the grass, a light wind echoing through the leaves above, and the sun sparkled off the lake beyond the house. The furniture on the large porch was still covered as Adam climbed the stairs and unlocked the door.

“Jesus, Adam,” Guy breathed as they entered behind him, staring up at the tall ceiling, the thick wooden beams crossing the whole of the living room, a straight shot out the large picture windows to the lawn and the lake. “How come we’ve never come here before?”

“Because no one ever said ‘where could we go chill for a week with no parents?’ before,” Adam pointed out. That and there was no way their parents would have ever let them go anywhere without adult supervision before now. He wasn’t really sure they should be without it now considering the way Fulton was inspecting the glass vase on the coffee table. It wasn’t as if going to college suddenly made them real adults.

“You were holding out on us,” Charlie said, dumping his bag by the door as he gazed around.

“Have you ever brought a girl up here?” Guy asked, flinching when Connie smacked him in the stomach. “What?”

Adam chose to ignore that question, turning to the living room instead. “So, this is the house. There’s a kitchen through there. There’s only three bedrooms, so we’ll have to share and somebody’ll probably have to be on the couch once the other guys get here.” He paused, glancing back at Charlie, who was still gazing around, hands on his hips, as though decently impressed. “When are they getting here?”

“Averman and Jesse are coming up tomorrow,” Charlie said. “Everyone else was busy.” He rolled his eyes as though it was a crime that anyone would have plans other than hanging out together.

“I call the single room for tonight,” Fulton said quickly, drawing everyone’s eyes to him. “I snore. You don’t want to bunk with me, trust me.”

“Connie and Guy are gonna take the other room, obviously,” Charlie said, and neither of them seemed embarrassed by the suggestion. “So I guess you’re stuck with me, Banks. Unless you want the couch.”

Adam swallowed the lump that rose in his throat at the idea of sharing a room with Charlie. They hadn’t shared a room since Team USA, and he’d been too young to understand then why he’d been nervous about it. He’d chalked it up to nerves about the competition and it had taken quite a long time afterward for him to understand why the feeling hadn’t faded once the games were over.

“It’s cool,” he managed to say, shaking his head.

“Don’t sound so excited,” Charlie teased, bumping Adam with his elbow. He didn’t seem to notice how Adam stiffened at the motion, turning to the back windows instead. “Come on, I wanna see this lake.”

Adam glanced over as Connie squeezed his arm, her easy smile as she nodded after the boys.

“Someone’s gotta make sure they don’t drown.”

Adam supposed that someone was probably him, so he let Connie link their arms and they stepped out of the sliding glass door after the rest of the guys.

*

Adam hadn’t really expected it to feel like nothing had changed, like they all hadn’t spent a year at different colleges, meeting new people, making new friends, dating people, but lounged around the living room, all five of them spread over various couches and chairs, it felt just like old times.

“Oh God, you missed it, Banks,” Fulton said, wheezing with laughter into his beer even as Charlie tossed him an annoyed look. “The first party, Charlie got totally wasted, like falling down drunk. He got up on the roof of the house and kept saying he was going to fly! Like a duck!”

Connie and Guy had dissolved into giggles and Charlie glared at both of them.

“Stop telling this story,” he said, shooting a look at Adam next. “I wasn’t that drunk. I walked home.”

“Yeah, after we tackled you down and then you tried to hit on that girl who had the—”

“Yeah, yeah!” Guy interrupted, enthusiastic, eyes wide, shaking his finger at Charlie, snorting with laughter. “The hole in her lip!”

“What?” Adam asked, confused. He was almost glad he hadn’t been there for that, but there was still a little bit of him that felt left out as Charlie crossed his arms grumpily and everyone else could barely breathe for laughing.

“It was a piercing. You know, like a gauge.”

“I thought she was going to swallow you whole.” Fulton cackled, and Adam could swear Charlie’s cheeks went pink.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he muttered to Adam instead of arguing with them. “You probably went to plenty of parties too, right?”

Adam shrugged. There had been parties, parties with lots of beer and girls older than him, fawning over his hockey jersey, saying things like, “That’s so cute!” when he told them he was on the team. He’d definitely never tried to fly off a roof or hit on a girl with a hole in her lip.

There’d also been a couple guys who’d given him a look up and down from across the room, a few who nodded towards the door and Adam had followed. He remembered every one of those guys, even if he hadn’t seen them after, even if it had just been a hurried make-out in a dark corner, away from everyone else, Adam trying not to let his nerves get the better of him.

He’d always been so worried someone would see, that he shouldn’t have been doing it. It had taken three months of parties like that, sneaking off with some random guy while everyone else was hitting on girls or doing keg stands. It had taken until his roommate had told Adam off-handedly that if he wanted to bring a guy over, he didn’t give a shit, for Adam to figure out that he didn’t need to be worried.

Of course, it was different at college. Everyone he met was new. It wasn’t like the Ducks, who’d known him since he was ten years old, since he was a Hawk, pushing them down after school, terrified at the idea of having to become one of them.

“Yeah, tell us what it’s like not having to see these idiots every day,” Connie said, leaning forward on the chair to grab another warm beer from the pack on the table. Adam wasn’t sure who’d brought it, but the one in his hand was barely half-empty and he took a swig anyway.

“What’s it like?” he asked, pretending to think for a second. “Heaven?”

Charlie reached over to smack his knee, grinning. “You fucking—”

Adam smiled, scratching the back of his neck instead as he let out a breath. “No, it’s, it’s okay.” He shrugged, knowing they were all looking at him, expecting more. “I mean, it’s weird. I miss talking to you guys.”

“But there’s plenty of hot girls there, right?” Fulton asked. “And you’re a center in the best college hockey program there is.”

All of that was true, Adam admitted. But it wasn’t the same without the guys there, without Charlie.

Speaking of Charlie, he merely sat back on the couch, arms crossed in his lap, tapping at his can. He glanced up, though, as though he could sense Adam watching him.

“I can’t believe you haven’t gone pro yet,” he said, finishing his beer and setting it aside. “What are you waiting for, Banks?”

Adam didn’t know the answer to that. After so many years trying so hard to make it for real, now that he was in college, finally away from everything, he kind of liked it.

“For you to catch up,” he shot back at Charlie, ducking his head as a chorus of “Ohhh!”s filled the living room. When he finally looked up again, Charlie was still watching him, but there was a small smile there. Taking a breath, Adam looked away, draining his beer as Guy started telling a story about yet another party.

*

Adam was glad he got the master bedroom as he gazed down at the king-sized bed. He was sure Connie and Guy would be perfectly comfortable in the smaller room on the queen mattress, but Adam was grateful for the space as he carefully changed into his pajamas. Charlie, on the other hand, merely stripped off his shirt, leaving him in only his boxers as he climbed under the sheets.

It wasn’t as if Adam hadn’t changed in front of Charlie a thousand times before, but that had been a locker room with stark lighting and their rambunctious teammates all around them.

The bedroom was quiet, the dim light of the table lamp falling over the quilted comforter, and Adam bit his lip as he watched Charlie fluff the pillow for a second. He couldn’t stand by the bed all night, though, so he crawled in quickly, leaving a large gap between himself and Charlie as they settled down and Charlie turned off the light.

Through the darkness, he heard Charlie sigh, and he turned to gaze at him, his eyes adjusting slowly until they could see his outline. Charlie lay on his back, hands clasped on his stomach, and Adam couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or not.

“You didn’t come home for Christmas.”

The words surprised Adam and he jerked his gaze away as if Charlie could see him.

“Yeah, my parents wanted to go skiing, so they rented a cabin in Aspen and everyone went up there.” It had been weird, not coming home, not seeing the guys, Charlie.

“Easier for you then.”

Adam chanced another glance at Charlie beside him. He hadn’t moved, still facing the ceiling, as still as a statue.

“I guess,” he admitted. It hadn’t been a four hour flight at least. Still, he paused, nestling his face into the pillow before he said his next few words. “I wanted to come home.”

Charlie moved finally, rolling onto his side to face Adam, and from this angle, the pale moonlight lit up the curves of his face in the darkness, a smile tugging at his lips. “Nah, you didn’t miss anything,” he said, quiet, shaking his head. “Except Goldberg taking a nose dive in Connie’s mom’s punchbowl and staining some expensive rug. We’ll be hearing about that for the rest of our lives.” He laughed slightly, tucking his hands under his head. “Besides, I’m sure you had a lot more fun up in the mountains. Did your mom make that amazing hot cocoa like she usually does?”

Fun wasn’t exactly how Adam would have described the few weeks he’d spent in the cabin, mostly alone while his parents skiied. He wasn’t really a skiier and there was no way his coach would have been happy if he’d come back with a broken leg from running into a tree.

“Yeah, I mean, it was okay,” he said, jerking his shoulder. “My brother came up, but he spent most of the time on the phone with his girlfriend.”

Charlie shifted, closer to Adam. “Maybe we should get you a girlfriend so you don’t feel left out.”

Adam couldn’t help the way he snorted, but he stopped himself quickly. Instead, he paused, gazing at Charlie through the darkness, the way his hair flopped in his eyes, a little too long, a gentle wave that it only got when it was this fluffy.

“You don’t have a girlfriend…” he said slowly, frowning as the thought occurred to him. “Do you?”

Charlie made a noise that might have been dissent or noncommittal as he lay there. “Why be tied down?”

Adam remembered the host of girls Charlie had “dated,” for lack of a better term, in high school. Most had only lasted a couple of dates before Charlie got bored or distracted.

“I think it might be nice to have… someone,” Adam said finally, mumbled the words into the space between them, and he could see Charlie smile this time.

“Always the romantic, huh, Banks.” Romantic wasn’t exactly how Adam would put it and he tried not to frown. “Don’t worry. You’re a star hockey player. Girls eat that up.”

He could just tell Charlie right now, he thought, curled into the mattress, only a foot away, without everyone else around him. He’d told himself when Charlie had suggested this trip, that he was going to do it. He was going to come out to Charlie properly.

He’d conveniently left out the part about why he’d agreed so easily to Christmas away, about the moment he’d told his parents, the way they’d kind of stared at him for far too long before his dad sort of cleared his throat and asked if he was quitting hockey. When he’d said no, his dad had let out a relieved breath and his mom hugged him and Adam figured that was probably the best reaction he was going to get out of them.

Charlie probably wouldn’t react that way. Charlie probably wouldn’t do anything but clap him on the shoulder as if everything was cool, as if nothing had changed. That didn’t make it any easier to say the words.

So he didn’t, staring across the mattress in the dark.

“Hey,” Charlie said after a minute, making Adam blink out of his thoughts. “Whatever you’re thinking—stop. This week is gonna be fun, okay? No thinking about school or practice or whatever is going on up there.” He gestured vaguely at Adam’s head before reaching over to pat his cheek, friendly. “Okay?”

Adam couldn’t bring himself to say no, so he just nodded, and Charlie did too, as though the matter was settled. Adam wished it was that easy, but he didn’t say anything else as Charlie rolled onto his back again and closed his eyes.

*

Adam blinked in the light shining through the curtains, listening to the birds chirp out the window for a second as he lay there, groggy as though his brain wasn’t ready to wake up.

Shifting, he found he couldn’t move, forcing his eyes open despite gravity pulling them down. They fell on an arm slung across his chest, a mess of hair too close to his on the pillow, pink cheeks and warm breath on his collar bone as he stared down at Charlie. He felt too warm as he lay there, wondering how to get out from under Charlie without waking him up.

A part of him didn’t want to—wished he could lay there forever, that Charlie might wake up and smile that dopey smile of his, like all of this was okay and not weird at all. But that wouldn’t happen. Adam knew better than that.

Still, he maybe took an extra second to breath in the scent of Charlie’s hair, close his eyes and dream, before he sighed and gently extricated himself from the bed.

The living room was quiet, the sun barely cresting the curve of the Earth, everything gilded in pale blue as Adam pulled on a sweatshirt and slid open the glass door at the back.

On the porch, Adam paused, gazing out over the lake. There was no wind this early in the morning, the only ripples in the water made by fish touching the surface, birds picking insects off the top. Shivering a little, he moved over to the set of chairs overlooking the lawn, settling down in an old, creaky one.

It had to be early, though Adam hadn’t checked the time before coming out. But he was used to it by now, between school and practice. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to sleep in again and he envied people like Charlie who could.

He liked this time of day anyway, when the world seemed quiet.

Sighing, he closed his eyes for a second, listening to the birds, the chirp of insects, the gentle rustle of leaves in the trees above him. He opened his eyes a second later at the sound of the sliding glass door opening behind him.

“You’re up early,” Connie said by way of greeting as she stepped out, rubbing her bare arms. The teeshirt she wore was at least a few sizes too big and Adam wondered if it was Guy’s as she sat down in the other chair next to him.

“Five AM practices will do that to you,” he replied, watching her instead of the lake now. “Why are you up so early?”

“Guy’s a flailer,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Adam smiled. “What are you gonna do when you’re married?”

She shrugged. “Separate beds?”

Adam just nodded, relaxing back into the chair.

“How was sleeping with Charlie?” she asked, and Adam hesitated.

“Fine,” he said after a moment, clearing his throat. It wasn’t as if anyone on the team knew he was gay, as if he’d told anyone his secret. He wanted to. He’d promised himself he was going to do it this week.

“He’s not a flailer?” she asked, sounding annoyed as she hugged her arms and swept her messy hair behind her ear.

“Apparently he’s a snuggler,” Adam muttered, and Connie laughed.

“I bet he’s soft like a teddy bear, huh?”

He kind of was, Adam had to admit, though he didn’t say it out loud. He didn’t really want to talk about Charlie, not right now. Not this early, not after just having woken up next to him as if they did it all the time, as if maybe they could do it all the time.

“How’s school been?” he asked instead, and Connie shrugged.

“It’s good. Weird not seeing everyone all the time, but you know how that is. I saw one of your games—one of my friends in the dorm hacked the cable to get college ESPN. I think it was when you played North Dakota and that big defender almost took you out.”

“Yeah.” Adam nodded slowly at the memory. “That wasn’t a great game.”

“Are you kidding? You were top pick for so many schools. The rest of us don’t even get to skate anymore.”

“Sometimes I wish you guys were still my teammates,” he said, quiet. “It would make things easier.”

Connie glanced over at him, pulling her legs onto the chair and curling up for warmth. “What things?”

For a moment, Adam didn’t say anything. He’d thought about this moment, with Connie, with anyone from the team, and he still didn’t know how he was supposed to do it. With his parents, it had been nerve-wracking but he’d wanted to get it over with. With the team, it felt like telling a secret that he’d been holding back, almost like he was guilty of keeping it from them. Even if he hadn’t completely figured it out until last year.

He swallowed, tugging the sleeves of his sweatshirt down over his hands, not quite meeting Connie’s gaze. “I told the team I was… gay.”

Connie didn’t reply and Adam couldn’t help sneaking a glance, just to make sure she wasn’t about to yell at him or get mad. But she just nodded.

“And what’d they do?”

It wasn’t the answer Adam had been expecting, and he shook his head. “Uh, most of them were okay. A couple got really weird and stopped talking to me until Coach shut us all in the locker room for three hours.” He mostly remembered a lot of yelling from different people, shoving, talking about how it was bad for the team that they couldn’t work their shit out. In the end, he supposed there’d been some sort of grudging agreement to not talk about it, but Adam still felt it when they were out on the ice.

He still wasn’t sure he should have done it, told all of them. He could have just told a few, but it hadn’t felt right to keep a secret with the guys he was supposed to trust.

And that was why he looked at Connie, waiting for her reaction, but she just nodded again, as though not surprised at all.

“Aren’t you surprised?” he asked finally when they sat there in silence, watching the sun rise over the lake, the world waking up around them.

She glanced at him after a second, biting down on her lip. “I kinda knew.”

“You did?” he asked, taken-aback, and she made a face.

“Well, I had a hunch. It’s not like you were dating a bunch of girls in school. You didn’t even talk about them.” She paused, watching Adam as though she was concerned about his reaction now. “But don’t worry, Guy has no clue and I won’t tell him if you don’t want me to.”

Adam didn’t know what he wanted, so he shook his head. “Just don’t tell anyone until I tell Charlie, okay?”

Charlie was the one he was worried about the most. Not because he thought he would react badly—although that was always a possibility—but the minute he told Charlie, everything would be different even if it wasn’t.

“Lips are sealed,” Connie promised, miming the action. “But at some point, you’ve gotta tell me about the guys in Colorado. They’re way cuter than in Minnesota, right?”

A small wave of relief flowed through Adam as he smiled and let his head fall back against the chair. “No,” he said after a minute. “I don’t think they are.”

*

“Oh good, we brought food!” Fulton said as he trotted down the stairs and Adam looked up from the bacon sizzling in the pan.

“Did you think we’d forget it?” Charlie asked, coming up behind Adam to slide the carton of eggs on the counter.

“I was only in charge of beer,” Fulton said as he flopped down on the couch next to Guy, who was busy stacking last night’s empty cans into a pyramid. “Of which there is plenty, am I right?”

“Man can’t live on beer alone,” Charlie said, stepping in next to Adam and nudging him out of the way. “Come on, you’re gonna burn it.”

“I can cook bacon,” Adam argued, but Charlie elbowed him out from in front of the stove, and Adam hardly protested.

“You can burn bacon,” Charlie corrected him, shutting off the burner and pulling the pan from the heat. “Why don’t you just go get the plates?” He shot Adam a shit-eating smile, and it was only that that made Adam abandon his post to rummage in the cupboards.

“When are we going in the lake?” Guy asked as he topped his pyramid with the last can and swiveled toward the kitchen.

“It’s not warm enough yet,” Adam said, glancing out the window. The sun had risen fully now and it promised to be a hot summer day, but the early morning mist still hovered over the grass, a pale ghost across the surface of the lake.

“You just wanna see Connie in a bikini,” Fulton teased, and Guy shot a look over his shoulder to make sure Connie wasn’t out of the shower yet.

“Guys, you think we haven’t…” He raised his eyebrows, and Charlie laughed.

“I think she’s gonna make you wait until your second wedding anniversary just because she can.”

Guy rolled his eyes but he didn’t argue it.

“Plates, maestro,” Adam said, setting the stack of plates on the counter, and Charlie ruffled his hair playfully.

“Such a good sous-chef.”

Shoving his hand away, Adam clenched down the way his chest fluttered at the easy touch, Charlie’s familiar teasing.

“Be a dear and pour the orange juice,” Charlie said next, and Adam rolled his eyes.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh! There is a little bit of the hockey player off the ice.” Charlie laughed, pulling Adam in by the shoulder, squeezing with one hand and flipping eggs with the other. “I like this Adam who stands up for himself.”

Adam found himself gazing at Charlie instead of coming up with something to reply, Charlie’s hand firm on his shoulder, the carefree smile on his face. If he let it go on for a second too long, who would notice?

A banging at the door had him jumping, away from Charlie, jerking around as the front door opened and Averman and Jesse burst through.

“I smell bacon!” Averman proclaimed, tossing his dufflebag in the corner as if he owned the place.

“What did you guys do, fly up here?” Charlie asked, seemingly unaffected by the way Adam had jumped out of his grip, as if a frightened cat.

“Pretty much,” Jesse said, nodding in greeting at Adam as if it hadn’t been a whole year since they’d seen each other. “I am never getting in a car with that maniac again.”

“We were fine!” Averman said, pulling off his jacket and tossing it with his bag. “I never went more than twenty miles over the speed limit.”

Jesse just shook his head, shooting Adam a long-suffering look. “The things I do for you guys.”

“Hey, you didn’t come to Eden with us,” Charlie reminded him.

“I didn’t want to leave my brother all alone, you know that,” Jesse shot back, but he headed for Adam a second later, pulling him into a one-armed hug. “Good to see you, cake-eater.”

Adam smiled as he hugged Jesse back. “You too.”

“Enough of the warm and fuzzy greetings,” Averman interrupted, shoving Jesse aside so he could throw himself at Adam, clapping his back. “How about that bacon?”

“You don’t get any,” Charlie said, to which Averman balked in protest, and Adam just shook his head and went to find the silverwear.

*

Adam hadn’t been to the lake house for a couple of years—every summer of high school had seemed to be focused on training rather than relaxing—but not much had changed. The trees were a bit taller maybe, but the pebble-covered shore was still warm under his toes and the water lapped gently at the edge, rippling out from where Averman, Jesse, and Guy were dunking each other in the water and Connie watched on from a safe distance.

Pulling his knees to his chin, Adam didn’t join them, glancing up at Charlie stepping up to his side, pausing for a second, gazing out at the lake, before he settled down next to him, shifting on the pebbles, trying to get comfortable.

The mid-afternoon sun shone down on his bare back, and Adam felt only mildly uncomfortable in his swim trunks with Charlie right beside him. Charlie looked good in his Hawaiian-patterened shorts, skin gleaming in the sun, and Adam looked away from the cluster of moles on his shoulder.

“Afraid you’ll burst into flames if the sun touches you?” Charlie asked, grinning at Adam even as Adam rolled his eyes.

“The water’s cold.”

“It won’t be warm until August,” Charlie pointed out. “So if you want to wait that long…”

Adam didn’t reply for a moment, brushing his hair back. He’d let it grow out a bit since last year, much to his dad’s disapproval. He’d probably cut it before school started again, but at the moment, the wind blew it into his eyes and he shook it out again.

“It hasn’t changed,” he said finally, knowing Charlie looked at him as he said it.

“What?”

“The house, the lake.”

Charlie smiled after a second. “Did you expect it to?”

Adam shrugged. “I guess not. It just reminds me of when I was kid and we came here, when all I cared about was playing hockey and hanging out with my friends.”

“How is that different from now?” Charlie asked, nudging Adam, laughing.

“Everything was simpler then,” Adam muttered instead of answering Charlie. Back then, his stupid little crush on Charlie had been just that. He hadn’t really known what it was and it hadn’t mattered.

“Jesus, Banks.” Charlie sighed, grabbing his knee, giving it a firm shake. “Don’t you ever live in the now? We’re only nineteen, for God’s sake. We’re not even real adults yet. There’ll be plenty of time for that sad nostalgia stuff when we’re thirty.”

Adam just watched Charlie’s hand on his knee, wishing he would take it away so he wouldn’t have to feel the tingling on his skin, the way his stomach curled into a knot.

“You don’t wish you could go back to being a kid sometimes?” he asked, letting out a breath when Charlie finally took his hand back to shrug vaguely, reaching for a pebble and turning it over in his fingers.

“It’s easy to just remember the good parts of being a kid, but there was plenty of other stuff I wouldn’t want to go through again.”

“Like Freshman year,” Adam muttered, and Charlie actually frowned.

Most of the time, Adam tried to forget those few months he’d been on varsity, when Charlie and the rest of the guys had treated him like he’d abandoned the team. He hadn’t asked to be on varsity, hadn’t wanted to leave his friends, but hockey always seemed to come first. They’d never really talked about it—he’d rejoined the team without much fanfare and no one had brought it up again. But Adam knew Charlie remembered. He certainly did.

“Adam, I—” Charlie started, but Adam shook his head.

“You don’t have to,” he said quickly, watching Charlie fiddle with the stone in his hand. “It was a long time ago. We were stupid kids.”

Charlie looked away, dropping the rock, but he didn’t try again.

Adam had never been mad about it—more hurt that they would think he wanted to leave them, that they’d treated him like he’d chosen it. He’d felt more at home with the Ducks than he ever had with the Hawks, ever had with any of the kids from his preppy school.

But just because he had felt at home didn’t mean he was.

“Are you guys gonna sit there the whole time?”

Connie came sloshing toward them through the water, hands on her hips.

“Come on, it’s not gonna be that cold,” Charlie said, grabbing Adam’s arm and pulling him up, dragging him down what little bit of shore there was.

“Holy—Charlie!” Adam cried as they hit the water and he jerked his arm from Charlie’s grip as the freezing water bit at his skin.

Charlie just laughed and before Adam could escape back to the shore, Fulton jumped on his back, bringing them both crashing into the lake.

Spluttering to the surface, Adam could barely move, panting for breath, drenched in cold water, hair plastered to his hair as he stood frozen, letting it drip off him as he blinked, in shock.

Charlie was still laughing even as he yanked Adam out of his frozen state, barely up to his knees in water. “You’ll get used to it, Banksie.”

“I hate you,” he muttered through clenched teeth, and Charlie barked out a laugh, pushing him into deeper water.

“No, you don’t.”

No. He didn’t.

*

“I never got to go to camp,” Charlie said, flames from the fire pit flickering across his face while, next to him, Averman attempted to get a dripping marshmallow in his mouth and not on the ground. It had taken them a while to get the fire going, between Guy insisting he knew how to do it and Fulton blowing too hard and putting out the tiny flame. But it was burning nicely now, casting a glowing light on everyone around the circle, the lights of the house behind them on the porch.

“It’s overrated,” Jesse piped up, leaning back on the bench next to Adam. “Bugs, arts and crafts, counselors watching your every move.”

Charlie ignored him. “I always wanted to but we couldn’t afford it.”

“I went to hockey camp,” Adam offered, insignificant, and Charlie smiled.

“Of course you did.”

Adam felt a blush on his cheeks, somewhere between embarrassment that he was so predictable and that Charlie wasn’t surprised at all by it.

“So what you’re saying is, we need to have a glowstick party?” Guy asked, eyes wide, hand twined with Connie’s as they snuggled in a chair that was too small for both of them.

“A what?”

Connie shook her head. “Did you bring glowsticks?”

Guy paused. “No.”

Fulton snorted and Charlie shook his head as Connie smiled at Guy, patting his cheek.

“Do you ever think ahead?” she asked, and he frowned.

“Of course I do. When we get married, we’re gonna live in a tiny apartment with our five kids and you’re going to be a super successful lawyer, and I will learn how to make really good cakes.”

“Idiot,” Connie murmured before she kissed him, and Adam sighed. He couldn’t remember a time they hadn’t been talking about getting married, as if it was meant to be.

“Have you actually proposed?” Jesse asked, skeptical, batting away a piece of ash as it drifted toward him.

“A hundred times,” Guy assured him, wrapping his arms around Connie’s waist.

“For real? With a ring?”

Guy hesitated, and Adam frowned. They all knew Connie and Guy would end up together but actually married, for real, with a house and kids and everything, had always seemed theoretical.

“That’s gotta be special,” Guy mumbled finally, pressing his face to Connie’s shoulder as she smiled.

“We’re too young to be talking about marriage,” Fulton said, breaking the quietness that had fallen over the fire pit. “Conway can’t even get a girl to stick around past one date.”

Adam’s gaze swiveled over to Charlie, watching Charlie scoff, punch Fulton in the shoulder.

“Who’s trying? I’m busy trying to pick a major.”

“You could always join me,” Averman said, arms wide.

“I can’t believe you’re pre-med,” Charlie said, and Adam couldn’t really either.

In his mind, everyone was still twelve years old, playing at the Goodwill Games, not worried about careers beyond hockey. He still wasn’t worried about a career beyond hockey. Sure, he went to class, studied political science, was doing a Spanish minor, but it wasn’t like that was leading up to anything in particular.

“I’m never gonna let you operate on me,” Charlie went on, reaching for the bag of marshmallows and popping one in his mouth.

“I’m not gonna be a surgeon,” Averman said dismissively. “I’m gonna be an embalmer.”

“Gross.”

“Hey, it’s a secure, well-paying, interesting job.”

Adam didn’t think he’d ever hear any of them talk about job security, at least not sitting around a crackling fire, hands sticky with marshmallows, one year into college.

“Well, we all know what Banks is gonna do,” Jesse said, smacking Adam’s shoulder. “He’s gonna be the one to go pro. One of us should.”

Adam didn’t say anything to that. It had always been his dream, the only thing he wanted, but surrounded by everyone else talking about real future plans, it seemed so insignificant. Hockey didn’t last forever. What would he do after it was done?

Everyone was growing up, he realized, slumping down on the bench as Fulton explained to Averman that he was working on a construction crew. It hadn’t felt like much had changed—missing parties and Charlie getting drunk was one thing—but things had. Their lives were changing and Adam wasn’t there to change with them.

“Hey, man, what’s up with you?”

Adam blinked at Jesse’s voice, quiet beneath the conversation going on across the circle.

Jesse watched him, eyebrows raised. “You’re quiet.”

“I’m always quiet.” It wasn’t anything new, and Jesse had to know that. His half-smile didn’t seem to convince Jesse, though.

“I know we didn’t talk much last year, but I’m still here,” Jesse said, and Adam should have felt grateful. He should have, but instead, he just felt guilty.

It hadn’t been Jesse’s fault that they hadn’t talked. They had both been busy with school, and every time Adam had thought about calling, he’d known the conversation would be all of five minutes and he’d never say what he needed to. And now, surrounded by all his friends, he could feel the moment slipping away. If he didn’t tell them now, tell Charlie, it would only be a matter of time before everyone had gone their separate ways and it would be too late.

He’d lose him.

“I’m fine,” he lied, though, jerking his shoulder.

Jesse just nodded, slowly, as though he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t push it, turning back to the group. Adam’s sigh was covered up by the crackling from the fire, and he took the bag of marshmallows Fulton passed to him, digging his hand inside instead.

*

Charlie’s soft breathing seemed loud as Adam lay beside him, eyes open as he stared at the ceiling. Charlie had fallen asleep practically the moment his head hit the pillow, but not Adam.

Insects chirped outside the window, and Adam tried not to think how weird it was to be sleeping in his parent’s bed. He’d hardly spent much time in here as a kid, and it felt strange, the quilted comforter bunched around his waist, shifting with Charlie as Charlie rolled over.

His arm slid over Adam’s waist, and he made a soft noise, almost a mumbled word that Adam couldn’t quite make out, face pressed to Adam’s shoulder.

There was enough space for Adam to slide away, but in the darkness of the bedroom, he didn’t.

Turning gently, he took a second to gaze at Charlie, his peaceful expression, mouth open slightly as he slept. He smelled like the campfire as Adam breathed him in, tried not to get lost in the comforting warmth of Charlie’s arm around him.

Closing his eyes, Adam just tried not to think about it, letting out a breath as he turned into Charlie and let sleep take him.

*

“That’s cheating!”

Adam looked up from the sink, over at Averman’s outburst, audible through the screen door. Across the table, Fulton swept the poker chips toward himself.

“It’s poker,” Fulton only said.

Turning back to the dishes, Adam turned on the water, taking his time scrubbing down the plates. Everyone else was out on the porch, gathered around the round table to either play poker or offer unsolicited advice to the players.

He set the dishes aside to dry, scrubbing down the sink next, not sure why he was avoiding going outside, joining everyone else.

The sound of the door sliding shut caught his attention, and he watched Jesse head for the fridge, rummaging inside for a soda before shutting the door and leaning against it.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked, watching Adam pull off the rubber gloves and set them over the faucet.

“Cleaning,” he said, as if it wasn’t obvious.

“What kind of kid does dishes while his friends are having fun?”

Adam paused. “The good kind?” It sounded like a trick question.

Jesse rolled his eyes, moving to the counter, cracking open the soda and taking a sip. “Is it possible college made you more uptight?”

Frowning, Adam didn’t answer that, and Jesse glanced at him.

“Did you do anything crazy this year, Banks? Any stupid team hazing or one-night stands?” Jesse said it as though he already knew the answer, as though it was pointless to hope Adam had let go at all since leaving high school.

Adam hesitated. He didn’t know why it was so hard every time, to just say the words. Biting his lip, he couldn’t help glancing out the window to where Charlie was laughing at something Averman said.

“There was a hookup,” he admitted finally and Jesse’s eyes widened.

“Oh!” He sounded both surprised and impressed. “Was she hot?”

Adam took a breath. “Yeah, he-he was pretty hot.”

He paused, watching Jesse for a reaction, but Jesse just said, “Oh,” again, as if he hadn’t considered that option.

Adam wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not as he stood there, hands clasped around the edge of the counter, nervous again.

Jesse hummed after a second. “Did you just come out to me?”

“I, yeah?”

For a second, Adam wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but then Jesse laughed.

“I guess you wouldn’t have done it any other way,” he said, and Adam paused, unsure.

“You didn’t know already?”

Jesse reached for his shoulder, reassuring. “I don’t spend my spare time thinking about your sex life, cake-eater, and I honestly don’t care who you’re sleeping with, but I’m glad you told me.”

Adam was glad too, but he still sighed. “I still have to tell everyone else.”

“You mean Charlie,” Jesse filled him for him, and Adam frowned, turning to the back door, the guys sitting around the table.

He knew exactly why telling Charlie would be so much harder, why he’d been putting it off.

Jesse watched Adam instead, head tilted to the side. “You know Charlie cares about you. You know you’re his best friend.”

Turning back, Adam shook his head. “Pretty sure that’s Fulton. I’m just the Hawk who accidentally got stuck on the Ducks.”

He didn’t miss the way Jesse rolled his eyes. “Will you just accept you’re one of us? You always have been.”

“Except I haven’t,” Adam reminded him. There had been plenty of times over the years when he’d questioned if the guys really wanted him on the team, if it was where he belonged. His friendship with Charlie hadn’t always been smooth sailing, and he couldn’t say with one hundred percent confidence that he believed Jesse. “Remember when you hated me?”

“I was a kid. I didn’t trust you.” Jesse scoffed, setting his soda down, glancing out the window. “But Charlie wanted to give you a chance.”

“Why do you keep talking about Charlie?” Adam didn’t want to think about Charlie, that he had to tell him this week, and then he’d get his answer once and for all.

Jesse shook his head. “Man, you’re my friend, but sometimes you can be so dumb.”

Adam had no idea what Jesse meant by that, but he didn’t get to ask as the door slid open again and Guy popped his head in.

“We were thinking of going into town to get ice cream. You guys in?”

Adam glanced at Jesse before shrugging. “Sure.”

Maybe ice cream was just the distraction he needed.

*

The guy scooping ice cream was cute, and Adam was pretty sure he was checking him out, smiled wider at Adam when handing him his cone. He knew he was right when Connie nudged him in the side, shooting him a grin.

No one else seemed to notice, and Adam left the guy behind in the shop. It wasn’t like he was going to ask him out or anything.

“Town” wasn’t more than a few streets of shops, a couple small restaurants that Adam had visited as a kid, some trinket shops and a small grocery store where his parents had used to let them buy popsicles in the heat of summer.

The streets were lined with leafy green trees, wide sidewalks with benches every couple hundred feet, and they strolled down the street, not going anywhere in particular.

“I can’t believe you got to come up here every summer,” Charlie said, licking the ice cream as it dripped down his hand. “It’s, like, picture perfect.”

“Not every summer,” Adam corrected him, kicking a leaf off the sidewalk, watching the rest of the group in front of them. “I think the last time was after eighth grade. Then my parents kept sending me to training every summer.”

“I remember,” Charlie said. “I remember being jealous that you got all that extra training. But really, you were the best of us. You deserved it.”

Adam glanced at him, watching him eat his ice cream. “I was jealous you guys got to hang out all summer.”

Charlie smiled slightly, nudging him as they walked. “Grass is always greener.”

Adam had wished for a lot of things growing up—to make it on a pro hockey team, to spend the summers doing nothing with his friends, for Charlie to one day to smile at him in a way Adam just knew meant what he wanted.

It wasn’t going to happen, though, the far away fantasies in his head, so he licked at his melting ice cream and headed with Charlie back towards the house.

“You’ve got some…” Charlie gestured at Adam’s face, and when Adam reached for it, he shook his head.

Adam froze as Charlie reached up, brushing away the bit of ice cream on his cheek.

“You’re a mess, Banks,” Charlie said, soft, wiping his finger on his napkin, and Adam couldn’t even argue.

*

“Would you stop quoting this thing?” Fulton said, smacking Averman in the stomach as he echoed a line from the movie. “Not all of us have seen it.”

“It was the biggest movie this year,” Averman argued, gesturing at Anthony Hopkins on the screen. “I saw it three times in theaters.”

“Then that makes you a dork.”

Adam hadn’t gone to a single movie this year, least of all Hannibal, and he grimaced at the image on the screen, turning away as Charlie climbed onto the couch beside him, sliding over the back and squishing down next to Adam. Scooting over, Adam wondered why Charlie didn’t just take the empty arm chair.

“Conway,” Fulton complained as the four of them had to squish together, and Averman practically fell off the couch as Charlie settled in, unbothered, pressed to Adam’s side.

“There’s a glare from the lamp,” he said simply, nodding at the chair. “Averman can take it since he’s already seen this.”

“None of you have seen it?” Averman demanded, incredulous as he moved to the chair and Adam could breathe slightly easier with a little more space between him and Charlie. “You’re so culturally inept.”

“Maybe we were just busy getting laid,” Jesse shot back from his spot on the floor, playing solitaire instead of watching the movie.

Averman rolled his eyes, but he didn’t quote the next line, and Adam grimaced at the gory image on screen, the blood and organs, turning into Charlie’s chest on reflex.

“Too much for you?” Charlie asked, voice low in his ear, amused, and Adam shook his head.

“It’s just gross.”

“You’re a delicate little flower,” Charlie said, sliding an arm over the couch behind Adam, shifting into a more comfortable position, his leg pressed to Adam’s, his hand falling over his shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’d never let you get eaten.”

“Reassuring,” Adam muttered, but he was more distracted by Charlie’s hand than anything, how close he was on the couch.

“Yeah, Clarice,” Averman echoed. “We’ll keep you safe.”

“Shut up, Averman,” Charlie said, tossing a pillow at him instead.

“Would you all be quiet?” Connie snapped, staring at the TV. “I’m trying to watch.”

The guys all exchanged a glance, but they fell silent anyway. Adam was glad, although he wasn’t really watching the movie.

Charlie had always been open with his affection with the team—easily giving hugs, not shying away from friendly touches, and Adam knew it would change, after. Maybe that was a good thing, he thought, eyeing Charlie’s hand resting over his shoulder. He wouldn’t have to feel his heart pounding like this anymore because Charlie wouldn’t be hanging all over him like usual. Maybe it would make things easier.

He couldn’t put it off much longer, he thought, staring down at his lap instead of watching the movie. He had to do it no matter how much he didn’t want things to change, and he sighed to himself.

“The gory stuff’s over,” Charlie whispered in his ear a minute later, and Adam glanced up, forcing a smile as if that had been the reason he hadn’t been paying attention, and Charlie returned it with one of his own, far more genuine, and Adam forced himself to turn to the TV this time and pay attention.

*

Sitting in the arm chair, legs swung over the side, Adam crossed his arms, gazing unseeingly out the window. When he’d woken up that morning, Charlie curled up into his side, it had taken all his strength not to curl into him the same. Instead, he’d carefully removed Charlie’s arm, rolled him away, and spent the next few minutes contemplating the way his heart was beating in his throat.

The living room was relatively quiet, Connie lying on the couch, head in Guy’s lap as she read a book and he stroked her hair aimlessly. Averman was nodding off in the other chair, as if the afternoon was dragging him down. Jesse’s unfinished game of solitaire sat on the coffee table as he stood in the kitchen with Fulton and Charlie, discussing what they should do for dinner, even though it was hours away.

Adam didn’t care about dinner. He didn’t care about what they did that afternoon at all. All he could think of was what he had to tell Charlie, that he couldn’t put it off any more. They only had a few days left at the lake, and if not now, when?

Besides, Jesse and Connie had taken it as well as he’d hoped. There was no reason why Charlie wouldn’t as well.

“Fine, we’ll figure it out later,” Charlie said, sounding annoyed as he threw up his hands. “I vote we all jump in the lake and stop talking about this.”

“When I was a kid,” Averman piped up, seemingly perking up. “We had those cool pool float toys. It’s too bad we don’t have any of those.”

Adam paused, glancing between Averman and Charlie.

“Actually, we used to have some,” he said slowly. “I bet they’re still in the shed. Charlie, you want to help me look?”

Adam didn’t miss the glance Jesse shot his way as he swung his legs the right way around on the chair, and Charlie shrugged.

“Yeah, sure.”

The shed wasn’t far, just around the corner of the house in a grove of trees that seemed bigger than Adam remembered as they approached it. He wasn’t really interested in looking for old lake toy, but he yanked open the rusted latch as Charlie stood behind him, watching.

The door squeaked loudly as Adam got it open, heavy on its hinges, and he stepped back at the sight of the dark, foreboding inside of the shed, cluttered with old garden tools, machinery parts that he didn’t know what they were for, dirty pots for plants.

“You’re not gonna go in there.” He could hear the smile in Charlie’s voice before he turned. “It’s probably full of spiders.”

Adam shuddered at the thought, taking a step back. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

Charlie didn’t speak for a moment as they stood there, and Adam tried to figure out how to do this. Again.

“Are you okay?” Charlie asked finally, and Adam glanced at him. Charlie jerked his head. “You’ve been… kinda weird since we got up here.”

This was it. Adam swallowed down the nerves climbing into his throat.

“I need to tell you something,” he said, slowly, and Charlie frowned.

“You can tell me anything.”

Coming out three times in one week seemed ridiculous, even to Adam as he stood in front of Charlie, nerves bundling in his chest. He hadn’t been this nervous with Connie or Jesse or even his parents, who could have full-well disowned him. But it was Charlie’s reaction he was the most concerned about.

Charlie just looked confused, worried, as Adam hesitated.

“So,” he started slowly, taking a breath, staring down at the grass beneath his feet. “This year was different, you know, being away from everyone, trying to figure things out, and I think I did.” He looked up at Charlie, biting his lip, heart pounding in his chest. Charlie just waited, frowning now. “I-I’m, I like guys. I’m-I’m gay.”

Charlie’s eyebrows rose slightly and he paused for a minute, a long minute that left Adam trying to remember to breath, not to freak out yet, not until he said something.

“Okay,” Charlie said finally, and Adam frowned.

“Okay?”

Charlie jerked his shoulders after another second, but Adam didn’t exhale quite yet. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

Adam paused. “Well, Jesse and Connie didn’t really say anything either.”

He caught the way Charlie’s head snapped up at that, tilted to the side.

“Wait, you told everyone else before you told me? Why?” He didn’t sound angry, more confused, and Adam didn’t know what to say. “Did you think I’d hate you or something?”

Adam’s eyes widened, opening his mouth quickly as he shook his head. “No, I just—I didn’t want anything to change.” It sounded so stupid as he said it out loud, staring at Charlie. He took that to mean Charlie wasn’t upset or angry or weirded out by what he’d just told him. But Charlie looked more concerned now of what Adam thought of him. “I know life has to change and we’re gonna get older and the longer we’re apart, it’s going to get harder to keep up, and I just wanted everything to stay the same for a little while longer because it’s easy for people to say nothing’s going to change but then—”

“Adam, breathe,” Charlie interrupted him as he rambled on, stepping up to him, pulling him into a surprising hug.

Tight against Charlie’s chest, Charlie’s arms around his neck, Adam forced himself to inhale, exhaling shakily.

“It’s okay,” Charlie assured him, keeping him there, and Adam blinked back the unexpected tears that sprung to his eyes. “You don’t have to be scared to tell me anything. And I promise it’ll be okay.”

Swallowing, Adam forced himself to nod, taking another fortifying breath.

Brushing away the unbidden wetness in his eyes, Adam stepped back from Charlie, out of his grip. “I’m sorry this was weird,” he muttered, but Charlie shook his head.

“If you can’t trust your teammates to accept you, who can you trust?”

Nodding, Adam let out a breath as he turned back to the shed. He felt drained as he stood there, gazing into the darkness. He didn’t know what he’d expected from Charlie, what he’d hoped might happen in return, and he couldn’t stop the sinking disappointment deep in his stomach when he didn’t get it. He knew better. He thought he had.

“So, do you have a boyfriend?” Charlie asked curiously, stepping up to his side after a second, and Adam frowned.

“No, no. There’s been a couple guys that I—but no.” It was weird talking about guys with Charlie, and he didn’t really want to.

“I think that ice cream guy was checking you out yesterday.”

“You saw that?” Adam hadn’t thought any of the guys would have noticed.

Charlie shrugged and didn’t answer the question. Instead, he nodded at the shed. “I’m guessing neither of us are going in there?”

“Averman can brave it if he wants to,” Adam allowed, stepping back. He glanced at Charlie, the way he was just gazing into the shed. He didn’t know where they went from here, but at least Charlie knew. At least it wasn’t a secret anymore.

Charlie nodded back towards the house. “I bet we can talk Guy into baking cookies.”

Adam didn’t say anything as he turned to follow Charlie. He did sigh, though, as they crossed the lawn. Maybe now he could finally get over his mild fantasy about the future with Charlie, move on for real, and find an actual boyfriend. Maybe.

*

Adam expected it to feel different once everyone knew, but it sort of felt the same. Of course, it wasn’t as if he’d announced it to everyone at the cabin, but the ones he hadn’t told, they’d figure it out eventually.

Charlie had gone off somewhere with Fulton after they’d gotten back to the house, and it had only taken the suggestion of cookies for Guy to volunteer to bake some.

Now, the house smelled like chocolate chip cookies and they’d opened the windows to let the afternoon warmth seep inside.

“Where’s Charlie?” Connie asked as they both watched Guy fiddling with the oven.

Adam shrugged, and she glanced at him.

“Did you…”

“Yeah.”

Connie scooted closer to him on the couch so she could lower her voice. “You okay?”

Adam didn’t really know how he was feeling. He should have been happy that nobody cared, that they all accepted him without question. He was—it was just weird.

“I’m fine,” he assured her after a moment, and he was. He was fine. Whatever happened next, at least there were no more secrets.

“Well, they better get back soon,” Connie said, leaning back. “It’s almost time for dinner and I’m hungry.”

As if on cue, the front door to the house opened and Fulton and Charlie appeared, carrying grocery bags.

“Please tell me you got more than beer,” Connie said, and Adam watched Charlie head to the counter, dumping the bags.

“Don’t worry,” Charlie assured her, stealing one of the cookies off the tray as Guy took it out of the oven.

“Hey!”

“Hot!” Charlie said, blowing on the cookie before taking a bite. “Hey, Banks, we’re gonna cook this on the fire. Come help me light it.”

Adam didn’t point out that he was absolutely useless at building fires, but he sighed as he climbed off the chair anyway.

Charlie brought one of the bags with him outside, and Adam hoped it was full of fire-starter, but Charlie didn’t drop it at the fire pit, heading on.

“Uh,” Adam said as he paused, and Charlie turned back.

“We need wood,” he reminded him, nodding towards the lake, the trees growing around the house.

Sighing, Adam followed Charlie despite himself. He didn’t really feel like being alone with him right now, not that any of that was Charlie’s fault. Charlie had no idea Adam had been secretly hoping he might admit he was into Adam.

They passed plenty of fallen branches but Charlie didn’t pick up any of them as they walked. Adam didn’t know what they were looking for if it wasn’t the wood on the ground.

“Where are you going?” Adam asked as they wound their way through the trees toward the lake shore, out of view of the house.

“Just a little further,” Charlie said, and Adam frowned.

“I grew up on this lake, Charlie. There’s nothing out there but more trees.”

At the edge of the lake, they finally stopped, and Adam frowned. What was he doing?

He didn’t expect Charlie to sit down on the ground. There wasn’t a gentle shore here, the dirt giving way to a short cliff down to the water, a fallen tree sticking out into the lake.

“Charlie?” he asked, and Charlie glanced back at him, nodded at the patch of grass beside him.

“Just sit down, Banksie.”

Confused, Adam didn’t know what else to do, so he sunk onto the ground beside Charlie, shifting on the uncomfortable dirt. He opened his mouth to ask Charlie again what they were doing, but he stopped as Charlie dug in the bag and brought out a cold soda that he handed to Adam along with a premade sandwich and a few bags of chips.

“It was all they had,” Charlie said by way of explanation, but it didn’t explain anything in Adam’s opinion.

For a moment, Adam didn’t say anything, watching Charlie open the chips and stare out over the lake, the low sun casting golden rays across the rippling surface.

“What is this?” he asked finally, not eating any of the things Charlie had given him.

“Dinner,” Charlie replied, looking at Adam finally, pausing. “But we could start with dessert.”

Reaching into the bag, he took out a package of Snoballs and held it out. That wasn’t what Adam had meant.

“Charlie,” he said again, confused, and Charlie set the Snoballs aside.

“Earlier,” he said slowly, “when you told me… I didn’t do it right.”

Frowning, Adam shook his head. “What are you talking about? You were fine. I’m the one who nearly had a panic attack.”

“There was something I should have said,” Charlie said, turning to Adam, and Adam felt his stomach turn over, start to churn as all of the possibilities filtered through his brain.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said quickly. If it was bad, he definitely didn’t want to hear it. He’d rather live in denial than know for sure his best friend hated him.

“I do,” Charlie said, firmer now, but he was chewing on his lip like maybe he was nervous. “You told me you’re gay and I just stood there like an idiot when what I really wanted to say was ‘Thank God!’ because I’ve always wanted to do this.”

Adam sat there, almost in shock, as Charlie leaned in, licked his lips, and kissed him.

He could feel his heart, pounding against his ribcage, feel Charlie’s soft lips pressed to his, gentle, careful, hesitant as he moved back, gazing at Adam.

“Adam?” Charlie asked, a hint of worry in his voice, and Adam blinked stupidly, like he couldn’t process anything that was happening to him.

“Is this a date?” he managed to ask finally, and Charlie paused.

“Maybe.”

Adam stared at the chips, the sandwiches, the ugly little pink Snoballs in their package. “You took me on a date,” he repeated, as though he couldn’t quite believe it.

“Well, not if you don’t want it to be,” Charlie said, frowning, and that was enough to snap Adam out of it, looking back at him.

“I do,” he said, too quickly, smiling finally, a rush of hope blossoming in his chest as he stared at Charlie. “I—I do.”

Charlie paused, leaning in slightly, tilting his head to the side. “So are you gonna kiss me back this time?”

Adam was smiling too big to respond as Charlie kissed him again, but this time, this time, his hands went to Charlie’s neck and he pressed back, following the slide of Charlie’s lips, only breaking away to laugh at the giddy feeling creeping over his body.

“You’ve always wanted to do that?” he murmured as Charlie swept his hair back, an easy affection that left Adam’s stomach fluttering dangerously.

“Just the last couple years or so.”

“We are idiots,” Adam muttered, and Charlie shook his head.

“We’re Banks and Conway,” he just said, and Adam kissed Charlie this time, grinning against his mouth and holding on tight.

*

The living room was eerily silent when Adam walked through the back door, everyone sitting around, looking as if they were waiting for something.

Charlie came in behind him, shutting the door, and they got two steps inside before Fulton threw up his hands.

“Well?!”

Adam just stared, confused, only distracted when Charlie reached for his hand, twining their fingers together, and the room erupted in cheers.

“I called it!” Jesse said while Connie and Averman cat-called.

“The date was my idea,” Fulton argued.

Adam’s cheeks were bright red as Charlie tugged him into the living room.

“None of you had anything to do with it,” he said, as Fulton scoffed.

“Please.”

“So, you’re dating now?” Guy asked, curious, as Charlie pulled Adam down onto the couch with him, never letting go of his hand, and Adam couldn’t stop smiling.

Charlie glanced at Adam before he shrugged. “It is what it is.”

That was as good an explanation as Adam could think of, and he barely paid attention to Jesse and Fulton arguing over who knew first. He just grinned as he leaned against Charlie, safe and warm, and exactly where he wanted to be.

*

FIN.