LOGINMarcus arrived just after eleven, still in his jacket from the morning chill, a small paper bag of pastries in one hand that he set down on the counter without ceremony the moment Ethan opened the door."Hey," he said, studying Ethan's face carefully. "You sounded serious on the phone last night.""I am," Ethan admitted, stepping back to let him inside. "Come sit down. Please."Marcus's easy smile faded slightly at the tone, replaced by something more careful, more attentive. He followed Ethan to the small living room and sat down on the edge of the couch, leaving space beside him that Ethan didn't take, choosing instead to stand near the window, his arms crossed tightly over his chest."Okay," Marcus said gently. "I'm listening. Whatever it is."Ethan's heart hammered hard against his ribs. He'd rehearsed this a dozen different ways overnight, and every single version felt wrong now that Marcus was actually sitting in front of him, patient and open and completely unaware of how much
Ethan couldn't stop smiling on the drive home, his fingers still tingling faintly where Marcus's hand had held his most of the night, the memory of the kiss replaying itself over and over like something he couldn't quite believe had actually happened.He dropped Asher off first, waving through the car window as Asher climbed the steps to his building, still looking lighter than he had in weeks despite everything else weighing on him. Then Ethan drove the rest of the way home alone, the radio playing something soft and forgettable in the background while his mind stayed firmly fixed on Marcus.He kissed me, Ethan thought, grinning at nothing in particular as he pulled into his own driveway. He actually kissed me. And it was good. It was really, really good.He sat in the parked car for a few extra minutes, unwilling yet to let the feeling fade by walking inside and returning to ordinary life. He thought about Marcus's hand curling gently against his jaw, about the warm, steady way he'd
The small rooftop bar Marcus picked was quiet for a weeknight, string lights strung loosely overhead, a handful of other tables scattered with students still buzzing from finishing their own exams that week."To survive contract law," Marcus said, raising his glass once the three of them had settled at a corner table, the city lights spread out beneath them."To survive contract law," Ethan and Asher echoed, clinking their own glasses against his.Asher sipped carefully at his sparkling water, the only thing on the menu that felt safe, while Ethan and Marcus both had actual drinks, easy and relaxed in a way none of them had managed to feel in weeks."You looked terrifying in there today," Ethan said, glancing at Asher. "Like a machine. I've never seen anyone write that fast.""I was running on pure fear," Asher admitted. "Fear is an excellent motivator, it turns out.""Noted," Marcus said. "I'll try that next time I have to give a business presentation."They talked easily for a while
The exam hall smelled like nervous sweat and cheap pencil shavings, rows of desks spread out with careful distance between them, proctors walking slowly up and down the aisles with their arms folded behind their backs.Asher sat near the middle of the room, his pen tapping lightly against his exam booklet while he waited for the clock to hit nine. His stomach felt tight, though he couldn't tell anymore how much of that was nerves about the test and how much was simply how his body felt most mornings now.Ethan sat two rows over, giving him a small, encouraging nod when their eyes met briefly. Asher managed a weak smile back, grateful, not for the first time, that they'd been placed close enough to see each other in a room full of nearly two hundred stressed strangers."You may begin," the proctor announced.The room filled instantly with the soft rustle of pages turning, pens scratching against paper. Asher opened his own booklet and forced himself to focus, reading the first question
Killian hadn't slept properly in three days.He sat in his study long after midnight, the same untouched glass of scotch sweating quietly on the desk in front of him, a habit he'd fallen back into so completely lately that Marcus had started joking he should just buy the bottle its own chair.Except nothing about the last three days had felt like something to joke about.Prenatal, he thought again, the word refusing to loosen its grip on his mind no matter how many times he turned it over, examined it, tried to force it into some other shape that made more sense. Anemia. Iron. Julian's voice.He'd asked Marcus to find out the truth three nights ago. Marcus still hadn't come back with an answer, which told Killian almost as much as an answer would have. Whatever Marcus was uncovering, it clearly wasn't simple, and clearly wasn't something he wanted to hand over half-finished.Or he already knows, Killian thought, something colder settling into his chest at the idea. And he's trying t
Julian showed up two days later with a bag of groceries in one hand and a rolled-up piece of paper tucked under his arm, letting himself in the way he always did now, like the apartment belonged to him just as much as it belonged to Asher."I brought something to show you," Julian said, setting the groceries down on the counter before crossing to the small kitchen table.Asher looked up from his notes, curious despite himself. "What is it?"Julian unrolled the paper carefully, smoothing it flat against the table's surface. It was a printed image, professionally rendered, showing a bright, sunlit room with soft yellow walls, a white crib positioned near a large window, a mobile of small paper stars hanging above it.Asher stared at it, his stomach twisting slowly."What is this?" he asked, though some part of him already knew, dread creeping up his spine before Julian even answered."A nursery design," Julian said, his voice warm, almost proud. "I had someone put together a few concept







