"I've got a problem," Jesse said, as they opened their third beers.
"I know,” Michael said.
“You know?” Jesse asked. “What do you know?”
“You're in love with Fi," Michael said.
“Um,” Jesse stuttered, surprised. He hadn’t thought it was that obvious. “Look, Michael, I-”
“It’s ok,” Michael said, perfectly calm.
For a brief moment Jesse wondered if he’d heard correctly. OK? Fine, he thought. If you want to go there, let’s go.
"It's, um, worse than that," Jesse said. He started peeling at the label on the beer bottle, suddenly feeling unsure. Could he really say this now?
"Whatever it is, Jesse," Michael said. “I’m sure it won’t make the world come to an end.”
They sat quietly a few minutes, neither looking at each other.
Jesse took a deep breath. Time to admit it. "It's not just Fiona."
"OK," was all Michael responded.
"Dammit," Jesse put the bottle down, then dropped his face into his hands. "I'm in love with you, too, Michael."
"That- that doesn't bother you?" Jesse asked, almost afraid of the answer.
"Huh." He hadn't been expecting that response.
“Michael-” Jesse started to say, but ground to a halt when Michael got right into his space.
One of Michael’s hands was on the side of Jesse’s face. “Your mouth is open,” Michael commented, calmly, and then fixed the problem by kissing Jesse senseless.
“Hey! Leaving me out?” Sam’s voice called across the room.
Only belatedly did Jesse realize he’d heard the door of the loft open and close.
Michael pulled his lips off Jesse’s with a noise. He looked at Jesse, arching an eyebrow.
Jesse opened his mouth, trying to respond. Nothing but small squeaks seemed to come out.
“I think he’s ok, Sam,” Michael called back to Sam. “But you better come over here and make sure.”
By then Sam had dropped the parcel’s he’d brought to the loft [Beer, Jesse thought, and probably more yogurt.] and stalked over to the two men. He leaned in and gave Michael a kiss that made Jesse sure that Sam was examining the top of Michael’s lungs from the inside.
Suddenly, Jesse found his voice again. “Wait. The two of you?”
“Three,” Sam said, with a huff of laughter behind it. He walked over to Jesse. Looking straight into his eyes, he gave Jesse a throat-clearing kiss.
Jesse felt faint, glad he was sitting down. "How long? How long has this been going on?"
Michael looked at the ceiling, appearing to count in his head. "About, maybe, eight months."
’Maybe’ my butt, Jesse thought. He was sure Michael could count it down to the hour.
"What the hell? How did I manage to not notice this?"
Sam shrugged. "We weren't trying to hide it."
"Well, maybe from my mom,” Michael commented. “But we weren't hiding it from you."
Something about that made Jesse's brain scramble even further. "You
mean you wanted me to-"
"We've been fighting for at least two months about how to approach you," Sam said, giving Michael an odd look. "Each of us wanted to do it differently and we couldn't agree how."
Jesse started mentally kicking himself for not getting this earlier.
“Hello, boys, I’m home,” Fiona’s voice rang from across the room. Jesse felt a surge of panic. He hadn't even heard the door of the loft open that time. He shouldn't be so unaware of things.
He felt transfixed to the floor as Fiona came over. Looking at his face, she looked at the other two men and simply said, “Huh.”
“Fiona, look,” Michael started. “We- It just- Jesse-”
“Oh, stop, Michael,” Fiona told him. “What matters is it’s done.”
“Finally,” Sam commented, getting him a dirty look from both Fiona and Michael.
"We do have a big problem, though," Michael said.
"What's that?" Jesse asked.
"We're gonna need a bigger bed.”