Work Text:
10 things isak does to say i love you to even
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realistically, sharing clothes isn't a good thing. it's unsanitary and your small wardrobe becomes even more limited because your boyfriend is wearing about a quarter of your clothes. still, though, isak lets even root through his closet until he finds a shirt or hoodie he likes. even rarely dresses under three layers -- something about wanting warmth and the feeling of being surrounded (safe) -- and isak adds on an extra layer or two himself so he can randomly surprise even by taking off a jacket or a hat or scarf and making him put it on. (he feels safe when even wraps an arm around him, keeping him close.)
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even sleeps more these days, although he says that it's better if he's with isak. even doesn't ask isak if he can stay the night after two nights in a row spent together, and isak knows even won't ask him. even's afraid to ask because the answer is always yes. yes, isak will let him stay over even if there's a possibility they both won't sleep. yes, isak will let him stay because he woke up without even beside him for only a handful of times and already knows he doesn't like it. yes, isak will let him stay because he wants even to stay. (i sleep better when you're here too.)
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there are tins of sweets and packets of biscuits in isak's bag, and granola bars in the pockets of his jackets. it's for those times when even's mind is running a million times faster than usual and his body tries to catch up but fails because he forgets to eat. so isak will casually hand even a shortbread when he's talking and watch it disappear in two huge bites. there's always a water bottle in his rucksack and a stick of chapstick too. there are extra pens and a sheaf of blank papers tucked away in one of the pockets; even's backup meds kept carefully behind the zipped pouch on the inside of his bag. he carries a lot more things now for even but doesn't really mind the weight of them. (geez isak, what have you got in your bag? it's fucking heavy! here, give me some of those will you? ah, chapstick! just what i needed!)
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isak can't look away from even. he's beautiful and bright, and so, so kind. he sucks up all the air out of isak's lungs just by being there, so close, and he can't help the way he stares at even with half-lidded eyes like he's dreaming even though he knows that he's not. this is real, he can touch even and feel him and then feel even touch him. it doesn't matter where they are, in school or at a party or eating out or just aimlessly wandering the city, isak's gaze is always drawn to even, tracing the length of his smile, the wrinkles around his eyes, the moles on his cheeks. captivated by every expression that animates his entire face. isak will always look at even as though he's drowning a little bit -- the boy who couldn't hold his breath -- until even, who has been looking back at him the entire time, finally kisses him. (magnus: isak, dude, how do you always know the exact moment to look up just as even appears? it's like magic! gross, really.)
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sex is so fucking amazing. yes, finally: the right parts, the right height, the right hardness pressing all around and in him. even feels so right breathing hard into the scant space between their faces, unable to kiss when he's so intent on making isak lose his fucking mind. isak blinks through the sweat, loves watching even's pupils swallow the irises. the pale arch of even's neck needs to be licked and sucked. they leave finger-shaped bruises and marks on each other in the sweetest way possible. isak begs for kisses with soft needy sounds and gasps. it's hot between them, inside of him, and isak feels so much more acutely that breathless, heady, desperate feeling when even looks at him like he can never be close enough to isak, deep enough, and isak holds him tighter, needing to be closer, for it to be deeper. then finally it happens -- it's close enough, deep enough -- and isak blinks his eyes open the next moment and loosens his hold on even's damp hair (but never lets go) and tugs even closer for a kiss though their lips are still tender. (then they begin all over again.)
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e: so if this universe has yellow curtains, what would we be doing now? i: i thought we were done with parallel universes? e: it's your scene, isak. come on, look, see, the curtains are yellow. i: oh, uh, well. we're doing something else. e: *eyebrows* i: outside. we, we don't know each other yet. we're... e: lonely? i: yeah, but. we're also waiting, i guess. like there's a feeling that something's gonna happen. something good. e: hmmm, i know that feeling. so when do we meet? i: don't get ahead of my story! so. we're just in different places at the same time but only like a few steps away, you know? and if only you didn't walk the way you do - e: again? let me tell you i've seen you copy me, isak. i: lies! but anyway, shhh, okay, if you walked like everyone else we'd probably bump into each other much sooner - e: and if you didn't wear your snapbacks you'd probably see me sooner too. i: don't diss the snapbacks! besides i wear them backwards and they're cool! baby, come on. e: sorry, sorry, hmmm, go on. i: it takes a while for like, um, the planets to align just right until we're both at the same meeting or something, and the other isak is so bored that he hides in the bathroom playing with his phone and when he goes out there's this, the other even who's really fucking unbelievable and takes out all the tissues - ! e: that's our story! are you, you're plagiarising our story, i can't believe it! i: hahaha *kisses* it's such a good story, though...
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the wheels screech a little noisily under isak's weight as even pushes the trolley past the detergents and rows of tissues. isak tries to direct him towards where the cereals are but the other boy takes a convoluted path through the aisles. it's 02:18 in the morning and they're the only ones in the supermarket aside from the poor sods manning the tills, half-asleep and ignoring the two boys who are way too excited about going shopping at this unholy time of the night. isak is perched on the front of the trolley, arms reaching back to grip the sides of the cart for balance. they try not to make too much noise but it's useless because even keeps surprising him with sudden stops and quick turns, and isak laughs and shrieks in equal measure, warning even to quit it. even merely answers him with bright smiles that curl up mischievously at the corners. they smell like smoke and are a little high and they make out for a few minutes next to the condoms display, and when they break for air, even wags his eyebrows suggestively and isak rolls his eyes (trying and failing not to giggle) but obligingly takes an extra large box from the shelf. they spend a long, loud time browsing through the spice racks and argue about which vegetables are acceptable to eat (e: a fair few of them; i: fucking none). even finally turns the trolley into the cereal aisle (the reason they're here in the first place) after an employee stirs enough to shout at them when they nearly knock over the pyramid of soup cans. isak lets go of the cart and reaches for a box, one of those sugar-coated kinds that could rot teeth, tossing it beside the nutella and six pack of beer. snorting, even grabs the box and goes round the trolley, pauses to give isak a lingering kiss, and puts it back and takes an organic one out of the shelf. isak rolls his eyes. (you know you keep doing that and someday you're face is gonna be stuck that way forever...you'll still be fucking hot, though.)
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the worry is like a loose tooth isak can't help but touch again and again with the tip of his tongue. it's like that, a constant tick in the back of his mind, watching even sink deeper into the blankets until he's all but disappeared from the world. isak himself can't move, stuck to the circumference of the bed and the precious person nestled on it, sad and quiet and beaten. he wishes he could just keep his arms wrapped around even and protect him from the lows and the highs but that's impossible, and it makes him ache in the unprotected spaces between his ribs. as the hours crawl by, isak eventually goes to do other things, kissing even's forehead and whispering he'll be right back. even's eyelids flutter but remain closed, and isak runs a hand through his soft hair before leaving. the flat is quiet and isak fixes himself a quick brunch, toasting bread with nutella, adding extra slices for even if he can be persuaded to eat later. even's mum texts him and isak answers duly, knowing how hard it must be for a mother to worry about her ill son from anywhere else that isn't directly beside him. isak understands all too well. he checks on even but he's still asleep, so isak takes a shower and picks up all the dirty laundry he resolves to do later (really). he texts his friends an update on even when they ask him how he is and finishes washing the dirty dishes. it feels a little lonely like this, in the quiet flat with even in a different world, and isak dries his hands and goes back to the bedroom, carefully crawling on the bed and lying down next to the other boy. after a moment, even stirs, blurry gaze finding isak. isak looks back at him, just breathing slowly along with him, patient and soft-eyed. after a longer moment, even whispers hey and isak whispers hey back and the worry doesn't lessen, not at all, but isak relaxes into the pillows and talks to even like he's been wanting to all weekend until even grows tired again and isak kisses his fluttering eyelids and tells him i'll be here. (he's still sleeping but i'll check if he'll eat something later. yeah, yup, i'm fine. there's, we have food here, mrs næsheim, you don't have to...oh, okay, thank you.)
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it's not hard to find his boyfriend in a roomful of wasted people because even is usually the tallest person wherever he goes. isak spots him by the stairs, talking to jena, one of even's classmates who has a huge crush on him. not that isak cares. nope. even greets him with a sweet smile and a kiss and a halla -- their usual -- and wraps an arm around isak's shoulders. isak settles into his side, leaning a bit heavily, and lets the kiss linger before brushing their noses together. even's lips curl in deeper as he pulls away, eyebrows arching up knowingly. isak makes an innocent face and turns to jena, who gives a hasty excuse and leaves. even laughs, and isak loves the fact that they're so close together he can feel the laughter rolling across even's body. the intimacy of it makes his gut clench. hey do you mind if i get another beer? even asks, thumb running along the side of isak's jaw. isak shrugs. uh, no? why would i mind? even's smile turns a little rueful. isak rolls his eyes and reaches up to brush the fringe falling across even's forehead. his hair is so soft and smooth, it's ridiculous. you know your limits isak tells him simply. not my job to -- well, yeah, okay, it is isak says with a half-grin when even lifts an eyebrow at him. but whatever, like i said, you know yourself better than i do. even stares at him with the brightest eyes and isak's heart stumbles over itself because that will never fail to make him fall headfirst all over again. even gently rubs his nose against isak's and lowers his arm so he can tangle their fingers together. come on let's go find some beer and then we can dance. i feel like doing a slow dance, don't you? isak looks at the people jumping and gyrating in the living room and then back at even, lit up by the string of lights flashing from the ceiling. yeah okay isak says, happy to follow along. (you said slow dance! you can't slow dance to fucking eminem, even!)
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nothing else exists except even's tongue reaching for his own, lips sucking at his mouth, noses bumping each time they dive back in for more. isak grips the back of even's head and he goes up on his toes to kiss even deeper. even hums against his lips, big hands slipping under isak's shirt to splay across his waist and hips, tugs him in until their bodies are pressed tightly together. isak probably needs to breathe at some point but who the fuck cares when even is doing that thing with his tongue that he's so good at? isak tilts his head back and even's mouth slips down to his neck, and isak takes in deep, shuddering breaths as he blinks up at the ceiling. they're still outside, his struggling brain manages to point out, and isak grapples for the doorknob and pushes the door open and they stumble inside the flat in a flailing tangle of limbs and surprised laughter. isak's back hits the wall, and he wraps an arm around even, tonguing the smile off his face because fuck, this is hot. this is really, really hot, even pressing him against the wall, pressed up against him from head to toe, heavy and big like this, and isak whimpers and lifts his leg and -- ahem not that this isn't totally hot but we didn't plan on watching gay porn tonight eskild's voice says from a distance and it takes a moment to register that it's not faraway, it's in the same room, and isak pulls back from even in complete shock. eskild, noora and linn are squished on the sofa, staring back at them with varying levels of amusement, interest and embarrassment. oh my god isak groans and ducks out from under even with his hands over his burning face. he wants to die. why isn't the floor opening up to swallow him whole? even, who is the master of recovery, smooths down his hair and tugs down his shirt over his jeans. what are you guys watching? he asks casually, voice still a little low. isak can't even appreciate the sound of it, his boner effectively killed by the equivalent of mum and dad having seen him make out with his boyfriend. if they go into his bedroom now, his roommates would assume that they'll be fucking and -- pretty woman noora says and isak lowers his hands just in time to see the delight breaking over even's face. he grins at isak and bounds over to the couch, grabbing one of the quilts off the table and draping it on the floor. isak watches him fold his long body, four hoodies and all, across it. noora gives isak a kind, knowing look and tilts her head in invitation. isak can sulk in his bedroom because his roommates pretty much ruined what was supposed to be a brilliant night and stole his boyfriend in the process but -- fuck it. isak drops his coat and snapback on the floor and sits beside even. linn has a bowl of popcorn but they'll only get to eat it when they pry it from her cold, dead hands. let's get this show on the road eskild says as he presses play and even sits up attentively when the opening scene comes on and isak says we've only seen this for like the 262627th time and watches even more than the film.
and then
sometimes, isak just says the words. there's no lingering guilt, no doubt, no self-flagellation. three simple words that change everything and nothing between them, making even smile with his eyes closed as he pulls isak closer in bed and touches their foreheads together. three simple words uttered back at him just as easily, like halla and cardamom and other tiny insignificant things that they make their own. isak sighs, tucks his face close to even's, and sleeps well.