Chapter Text
Moving out of the kollektiv had been hard, harder than Isak thought it might be. When Noora came back from London his second year at Nissen he had worried that he might end up on the street again. Or worse, be made to face the mother he had abandoned the year before and go back to thrown dishes and sleepless nights interrupted by screaming at the walls and bibles in every room, highlighted, dog eared, and sticky-noted.
But he kept living at the kollektiv through his years at Nissen, and was able to keep his room while Noora went between sharing with Eskild and the hallway. It was comfortable for a while- until the middle of his third year, when Noora and Eva started dating- which was totally out of left field for Isak, but that meant Eva was over at the apartment more often than not, forcing them to mend what Isak had so stupidly broken their first year. Eva was more kind and forgiving, Isak thought, than he deserved.
That also meant that Eva was over every night more often than not. And if four people living in an apartment meant for three was bad- sharing one bathroom and one tiny kitchen between the five of them was even rougher. Eva knew she was a guest though, girlfriend or not, and tried to take up as little space as possible. She was constantly letting Isak and the others take the bathroom or use the kitchen before her, and sitting on the floor between Noora’s legs during movie nights, letting them use the couches.
The real problem came when Eskild got a steady boyfriend- which Isak found even more unbelievable than Eva and Noora dating. Isak had been ready to tell Eskild no, to take him somewhere else, but when Eskild looked at him with the most sincere expression Isak’s ever seen and pleaded with him, “ please say yes, baby Jesus,” Isak had crumbled- which he immediately regretted.
Eskild’s beaux was a nice enough guy, but not nearly as considerate as Eva and in any case- an apartment for three with double the occupants was bordering on ridiculous, if not illegal.
So, just before graduation, Isak announced that he was moving out over the summer before he started at UiO. He was moving to a small two person shared apartment with a guy he had never met face to face but had spoken with plenty over e-mail. He happened to be a friend of a friend of Sana’s. The guy’s old roommate, Yousef, had moved out to go to school in Turkey so when he mentioned to Sana he was looking for a place- well, things were too perfect to turn down.
At the time he was more than ready to be rid of the overflowing trash cans, unwashed dishes in the sink (admittedly, most of them were probably his.), bras hanging from the bathroom towel racks, and walking in on his roommates in compromising positions.
He thought he was ready to be rid of Noora telling him how to eat, Linn complaining, and Eskild’s overbearing tendencies- which Eskild had doubled down on when Isak finally came out at the start of his third year. But when he finally packed up the last box, zipped up his suitcase, and tied shut the last garbage bag (he got a little lazy while packing), he was almost sad to go.
He thought about Noora teaching him how to chop vegetables, shared looks of exasperation or amusement with Linn, and quiet heart-to-hearts with Eskild, who had been there for him through his coming out even when Isak had insulted him to his face.
Okay he was more than almost sad. He would furiously deny this to Eva later, when she walked in on him looking through the pictures on his Insta from when Eskild stole his phone at Eva’s 18th birthday bash- but he definitely had to wipe away some tears, more than once.
He definitely did not cry, however, when he finally met his new roommate face-to-face for the first time as he moved in (with some much appreciated help from Jonas and Madhi).
Because holy shit, he was hot. He was more than hot, Isak thought as he struggled to keep hold of the heavy box in his hands, he was beautiful.
Isak thought finally putting a face to all the e-mails (signed Even B.N.) they had exchanged all summer would be a relief- nothing had come up on any social media searches, to his annoyance. But putting that face, all cheekbones and plush lips and eye-crinkling smiles, to the name signed on those e-mails was nothing short of a religious experience.
Isak was supposed to live with this guy?
He barely remembered getting all of his things to his room, and he let Madhi and Jonas take the lead in small-talk with Even as they all went from the van to their third floor apartment several times, lugging Isak’s things with them.
It was awkward at first because Isak didn’t know how to handle anything ever- he kept to his room with the excuse of unpacking the first three days. But after that, Even had coaxed him out with some weed long enough for a short movie marathon; full of popcorn throwing, laughter, and (totally not from Isak, ever, Romeo + Juliet was lame ) crying- and there was no turning back.
That first day with Even was the start of the worst and best living situation of Isak’s life.
Best because he got to know Even- enthusiastic, movie-loving, teasing, dancing-at-9AM, sunshine-smiling Even.
Worst because Isak had Even so, so close and yet he was farther than Isak could ever stand. Even had just come out of a five year relationship. With a girl. So not only was Even probably straight, but he had just ended a long term relationship- Isak couldn’t do anything for five hours most days, let alone five years- even Narcos got boring after some point.
But whatever, Isak decided he would deal with maybe having a possible crush on his stupid hot, kind, funny roommate. He got over Jonas, didn’t he? He was more than equipped to deal with it. And he refused to be that guy again- that guy who’s always crushing on his unattainable straight friend, and wallowing in his self-pity.
So Isak did deal with it. He was always, always pushing away the urge to put his hand on top of Even’s at the dinner table, or lean his head on Even’s shoulder when they were watching movies, sitting together on the couch way too close for Isak’s comfort, and he definitely trained himself to stop staring. Mostly.
Isak and Even spent a lot of time together- which Isak was sure wasn’t totally sure was okay in his situation, but Even’s company was too good to resist.
They made movie nights into a weekly occurance, held on Thursdays. They were supposed so switch off on who picked the movies, but most of the time he let Even pick because he would complain whenever Isak chose Die Hard or anything that was more than 20% explosions.
They also ate dinner together more often than not- Even was an amazing cook and when he realized the most Isak knew how to cook were microwave burritos, he insisted on making them dinner every so often- which turned into ever week, which turned into almost every day. They turned it into mini cooking lessons, Even teaching him how to cook meat without burning it or even the science behind marinating. By the time school began, Isak could probably make pasta and meatballs all on his own. That didn’t stop Even from doing most of the cooking, though.
More than the movies or the cooking, though, Isak loved the conversation. They could just talk to each other so comfortably, changing topics without notice, teasing and laughing. When Even got home from a late night class and found Isak studying on the couch; when Isak would knock on his door and stand in Even’s doorway while Even layed in his bed, too tired to get up; when they were headed to or from campus together, even though one of them didn’t have class for another two hours. They would just talk.
And if things got heavy, Even never pushed or looked at Isak any different, he would just nudge him with his foot and make a stupid dick joke that put the both of them in stitches.
They were friends. Really good friends.
But that didn’t stop Even from popping up in Isak’s brain when he was dreaming or when he- well, when he really shouldn’t be thinking about his roommate, anyway.
It didn’t stop Isak’s heart from constricting whenever they touched, or his breath catching when Even smiled.
Almost six months trying to stop his lungs constricting whenever Even teased that they should just get married for the tax benefits, and Isak was no closer to getting rid of his crush than he was on day one.
But he was dealing with it. Definitely.
What he wasn’t dealing with was his mother- who called him every other day, now.
When Isak came out to his friends, he bit the bullet and also came out to his father- in an angry and passive-aggressive text, but still. He did it. And immediately, Terje had responded with have you told mamma? I’m sure she’d be very happy for you but you know how stressed she can get stressed.
Father of the year, right?
Isak almost didn’t tell her, the thought of her reaction almost made him sick sometimes. But. But he needed this.
After another week of deliberation and writing and re-writing text messages, Isak finally messaged her. He thought about going to see her, but now that she lived in an assisted living home about forty minutes out of town by shuttle- well. Seeing his mother at all, let alone while she was in what Isak considered effectively a nut house, was not something he felt up to.
But he sent the message, long and apologetic, and it went better than Isak dared to expect. She responded the next day and Isak cried, more than once, alone and then with Eskild.
And now, they texted a few times a week- and the bible verses were considerably less, barring a few mild episodes. And Isak visited every other week or so, which he actually kept up with consistently.
He learned that the assisted living home was not in fact a nut house, and they helped all kinds of people, including the elderly, mentally-ill, and disabled. It wasn’t as clinical as he expected, and at this point he had played both backgammon and parcheesi with several of the patients and nurses, who were all really nice and actually kind of funny.
His name was eventually first on the emergency contact list and the nurses knew to call him if his mother needed him or was having a rough time.
It was good. It was really good.
But the calls. Isak’s mother called often depending on her state of mind, sometimes as little as once a week and other times as frequently as three times a day. Thankfully, however, most of those calls didn’t feature the fire and brimstone he had expected at first, but a worried mother.
Isak had spent his late teens with a distant, mentally ill mother who wasn’t all there- and then wasn’t there at all. He hadn’t had to answer to anyone about his life in a long time. It was weird, and a little suffocating at times. He sometimes thought his mother was attempting to make up for everything, and he didn’t know how to handle it or tell her to stop without sounding like he didn’t want to talk to her at all- which wasn’t true.
So the calls continued.
This week, Marianne was fixating on Isak’s love life. She had called four times in the last two days, first broaching the topic with a “you know, sweetheart, I’ve been wondering how you’re doing… romantically,” which wasn’t something Isak had ever wanted to hear from anyone, let alone his mother. He brushed her off and said he was perfectly fine, had plenty of friends, and was focusing on his first semester of university.
But then the second call happened.
And then the third.
And by the end of the fourth, Isak didn’t know what to do. What if she thought Isak wasn’t happy and had a mental break? Isak had just patched things up with her and they had been so amicable, even familial , up until this point- and now…
Isak remembered what it was like living with his mother, how she would sometimes obsess over things and how anything could set her off when it was a bad day- a door closing too loudly or Isak asking to go out with some friends had sometimes sent her into hour long fits or worse on a bad day.
And the last thing Isak wanted, ever, was to be the reason his mother went back to that, to screaming and banging on walls, or furiously flipping through bibles, or fighting with his father and the voices in her head into the late hours of the night.
His heart clenched when she called the next day.
He was in the kitchen, making himself coffee for a night of studying when his phone went off, the contact “ Mamma” appearing on the screen. He pushed the heavy feeling in his chest from his mind and answered immediately.
“ Hallo,” he said, lodging the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he scooped coffee grinds into the tray.
“Isak,” his mother greeted, “I’ve missed you.”
We spoke yesterday night, he thought. “I missed you too,” he replied carefully. “How are you, mamma?”
“Oh, well. I had a visit from Doctor Falk this morning, he says everything is going great and the new medicine I started is settling well, but he wants to watch my behavior over the next few days because of something or other.”
Isak felt that weight settle in his chest again and he was worried that the something or other was just what he had been thinking of the last few days every time his mother called him.
“Good, good.” He capped the coffee can and put it back in the cupboard.
“I was wondering,” his mother trailed off, and Isak could hear it coming. God, not again.
“Doctor Falk has a son,” she started, “who’s around your age- and, I know, I know you said you wanted to focus on your studies but I just worry that-“
Oh God, Isak was horrified. His mother not only brought it up, but now she was trying to push guys on him. Her doctor’s son kinds of guys. That was it, Isak didn’t want this to go on any longer- but just the thought of telling her no, now, when she might-
Fuck.
Isak was about to do something really stupid.
“Actually, mamma, I have a boyfriend,” he said as he set the coffee machine, trying to sound as convincing and confident in the statement as he could muster.
He never thought his mother could be so loud and happy at the same time. He winced as a shrill “ really! ” sounded straight into his ear.
Usually when she was shouting it was for reasons that made his stomach fill with lead- it was a new and pleasant kind of sensation to think his mother was yelling for excitement because of Isak.
“Yeah, um,” he fished around for something to say as he moved his phone away from his shoulder with one hand and leant on the counter with the other. “We just- we’ve been keeping it very casual and kind of quiet.”
“That’s amazing sweetheart- when did you two meet?”
“A while ago,” Isak said vaguely. “We started dating a few weeks ago but, yeah, like I said we’ve been keeping it kind of quiet, so I haven’t really told anyone except you.”
“I’m the first person you’re telling,” Marianne said after a pause, like she couldn’t believe it. Isak had never felt so touched that his mother cared about something like this- or more ashamed for lying to her about it. His first real I have a boyfriend talk with his mom and it was all fake. Awesome.
Isak wandered over to the small kitchen table and fiddled with some left-over ketchup packets as he chatted with his mother. They spoke quietly for a few minutes more about Isak’s boyfriend (“Yes, he lives pretty close. We see each other all the time. He goes to UiO. No, we’ve been on quite a few dates, actually. Yes, he is very, very nice!”) when Isak heard the faucet turn on abruptly behind him.
He whipped around to see Even starting on some day old dishes in the sink. Even threw him a glance and a half hearted smile and Isak immediately made his excuses to his mother, saying goodbye and pointedly not answering her last question about his non-existent boyfriend.
“Hi,” Isak said as he stuffed his phone into his jeans.
“Hey,” he returned, but Isak could tell something was off immediately. His face was set and his lips were pursed, twisting his mouth from one side to the other as he concentrated on the dishes. He glanced back up at Isak.
“Your mom?”
“Ah- yeah,” he answered. Should he tell Even about the boyfriend thing? He had a feeling Even would laugh at him but- no, Isak already knew he wouldn’t tell him. He didn’t want Even thinking he was desperate or weird. It was embarrassing, wasn’t it? Who was so pathetic that they lied to their sick mother about having a boyfriend?
He was, apparently.
“What, ah,” Even cleared his throat, “What did you talk about?” he briefly glanced at Isak again, his face still tense
“Just telling her about the usual- classes, doctor stuff. She started watching the Golden Girls. Loves it,” Isak nodded, trying to look totally chill. She had talked about that- last week.
Even hummed in response.
Isak tried to steer the conversation away from his call with his mother, but Even went oddly quiet. . He kept his attention on the dishes and didn’t answer using more than three words at a time. Isak thought it was strange since Even was usually the one carrying the conversation. He tried again to get Even talking, but their conversation was short and stilted, devoid of its usual easiness. He didn’t make the usual jokes or try and flick Isak with water or even bring up their last movie night
“You feeling okay?” Isak scrunched up his brow. Maybe Even was sick.
Even shrugged and gave him a half hearted smile, said he was tired and left it at that.
“Okay. I’m just,” Isak mumbled awkwardly after another full minute of silence, “going to go to my room… I guess.”
Even only nodded as Isak retreated out of the kitchen and back to his bed.
-
Two weeks went by. Two weeks, and suddenly, the quick and close friendship he had with Even had all but dissipated and they were strangers.
Even cancelled their next movie night and cut it short the week after that- they weren’t even watching Transformers!
He left Isak on read not once, but several times, apologizing for it later with the excuse that he’d meant to reply and got distracted.
Every time Isak suggested they do should something together, Even would make excuses and say he knew Isak ‘was busy’ and wouldn’t let Isak get another word in- as if Isak had ever been too busy for Even.
Every once in awhile, as they both sat quietly in the living room- Even on his computer while Isak was buried in his phone- he’d abruptly cut the silence just to ask what Isak was doing.
Like tonight.
“Who’re you texting?” Even asked, like he was trying not to sound annoyed.
“Uh,” Isak stuttered, caught off-gaurd. “No one- just, you know, Jonas.”
Even nodded and went back to his computer like he hadn’t said anything at all, leaving Isak to furrow his brows in confusion and wonder what the hell was going on.
He’d thought about way more than was probably normal, thinking of excuses as to why Even would retreat like this. At first he thought maybe Even was sick or had a big test or something had happened with his family.
Then he wondered if Even was depressed. Did Even get depressed without being manic first? Isak didn’t know, he’d only seen one mild episode of Even’s early on, and it wasn’t anything like this.
This felt like dismissal.
He must have been upset with Isak, He’d decided. Something stupid Isak has said or done- but whenever Isak tried to ask if something was wrong, he’d get shut down and Even would have to leave suddenly.
As Isak locked his phone and retreated to his room, he felt a heavy kind of defeat. He now had a crush on a guy who was straight, more mature than he was, and maybe hated him.
He didn’t know if he could stand much more of this.
-
As it turned out, he couldn’t stand much more of it.
Isak was putting his jacket on and throwing glances at Even, who was curled up on the couch, buried in a text book. Isak had been tip-toeing around Even the last few weeks, but he was kind of over it. His desperation to correct whatever mistake he’d made had given way to annoyance in the face of Even’s indifference.
Isak grabbed his keys from the coffee table (maybe with a little more force than ususal) and was about to head out when Even called, “Where are you going?”
Why do you care?
Isak pivoted around slowly and shrugged. Two can play at this game.
Isak was supposed to deal with Even icing him out and then tip toe around him for no reason, but he had to answer to Even whenever he grilled him on where he was going?
No way.
“Nowhere,” Isak returned shortly.
“Meeting someone?”
“Yeah,” Isak said, mirroring Even’s flat tone with his own.
Even stared. He stared for an uncomfortably long time and there was that fucking look- the one he had sometimes where Isak thought, this is it, he’s going to say something.
“Okay,” he said, turning back to his book. And that was it.
That was it?
“ Okay,” Isak bit out, and left, slamming the door just a little bit behind him.
-
He was going to meet his mother. They settled, like they always did, in the north visitors’ room, which Isak thought resembled a grandma’s floral living room, but it was comfortable enough, with big windows and doilies on all the couches.
She clasped his hands in hers and asked how he was doing and Isak answered as he always did, with details about school and Jonas and whatever he had been eating recently.
But then, of course, she asked.
They had talked about the boyfriend two weeks ago during their last visit, but Isak had dodged those questions like a scene out of the Matrix.
This week, he wasn’t so quite as lucky.
“Why don’t you bring him to visit,” his mother suggested, a soft smile tugging on her lips.
“I don’t, I don’t know,” Isak stuttered out. “He’s very…” Isak tried to think of a reason he wouldn’t have to produce this magical boyfriend.
“ Isak,” his mother pleaded. “I don’t even know this boys name. It’s been weeks now, sweetheart. At least tell me his name!”
“It’s,” Isak sighed, searching for a name.
And he could have said any name, really.
Michael. Herman. Geoffrey. Henrik. Arnold.
“Even.”
What the fuck, Valtersen.
All of the names in the world and Isak “desperate” Valtersen blurted out Even.
He really needed to get on Tinder or something.
“Even,” his mother repeated, like she was testing the name out. “That sounds like a wonderful name. Isak and Even. It’s good.”
If only it were.
“I really am so happy for you,” his mother smiled and Isak returned as convincingly as as he could.
“Yeah, mamma.”
“And he treats you well?” She leaned forward in earnest. Isak wanted with everything in him to snap not recently, maybe in the hopes that somehow Even would feel his salt telepathically from across the city.
“Mamma, I told you, we’re fine. He’s fine,” and maybe Isak sounded a little irritated, and maybe that was a mistake because Marianne recoiled just slightly, her eyes downcast.
“Isak, I know I can be,” she paused, searching for the right word, “a bit much. And I know we’re just getting to know each other again after everything, but- Isak, angel. When I wasn’t well, there were days…. Too many days when I regret not being able to take care of you. And how I wish I could have when you needed it.”
Isak tried to interrupt her. He grabbed both her hands so tight and wanted to tell her no, really it wasn’t her fault and he didn’t blame her for anything, they were all a little fucked up- but she cut him off with a look and continued, “There were so many times I wanted to be there for you but I couldn’t. And it killed me. And sometimes it still does. Isak, I regret it every day. I’m just so glad that you have someone there for you now, who can love you.”
“I love you, mamma,” Isak whispered, tears spilling over.
They both cried, huddled close together on that small floral couch, hands clasped tight together.
When Marianne finally pulled her hands away to wipe at Isak’s tears and her own she asked, quiet and small, “please bring him next time. I would love to meet him. Say yes, Isak. ”
Isak said yes.
-
Why did Isak say yes?
It was Friday, the day before he was meant to visit his mother with his boyfriend, Even, and he, of course, didn’t have a wonderful boyfriend who treated him well named Even to bring.
He was fucked.
There was nothing he could do, so his current plan was to get shitfaced with the boys and tell his mother tomorrow that he and Even broke up. And god, how would she take that?
Isak needed a drink.
As he passed by the kitchen on his way to the front door he spotted Even, making himself a sad microwave dinner. They had said good morning on the way to class earlier, but not much else.
And he was supposed to be mad at him still, but goddamnit Isak missed him. Missed talking to him. He was still angry most nights, but on others he was so sad he thought he would give anything to have those easy conversations and open smiles back.
He was still crushing.
He was pathetic.
He was sad.
And then Isak did something stupid.
“Hey, Even,” Isak called from the kitchen door. “I’m going to a pre-game with the boys and then a party after. Did you want to come?”
Even froze, steaming TV dinner in hand, and stared at Isak.
God what was he thinking. Of course Even would say-
“Okay,” Even shrugged.
Wait, what?
“Uh, okay,” Isak repeated, dumbfounded.
“Just let me change,” Even trashed the plastic tray, still steaming, and slipped past Isak into his room.
-
And just like that, they were at Jonas and Madhi’s apartment with the rest of the boys, sipping beer and chatting. It wasn’t exactly like old times- Even stuck to chatting with an enthusiastic Magnus, who had missed spending time with Even more than Isak had, if the way he tackled Even into a bear hug when they arrived said anything.
But, still. It was something.
“So, is this it?” Even asked around fifteen minutes after they arrived.
All the boys gave him a questioning look.
“Is this everyone?” Even qualified, with emphasis in his voice.
“Yeah,” Jonas said, “why wouldn’t it be?”
When Even shrugged and went back to chatting about music, and none of them questioned it.
-
They ended up playing a drinking game when it got closer to party time and they had barely made half the dent in the beer they had wanted to. It was just a bunch of embarrassing questions and you either answered or you drank. Simple.
Isak drank. A lot.
“When was the last time you masturbated?” Jonas asked.
Isak and Madhi drank.
“Two days ago,” said Magnus- who didn’t seem to see that the point was to drink more and was just answering every question.
“Today,” Even said casually, and Isak almost spit out his beer. He didn’t want to think about that- or, you know maybe he did but not in front of his friends.
“Chill,” Jonas said, taking a swig of his beer.
Magnus’s turn came and he always asked the dumbest fucking questions.
“Okay,” Magnus said, holding his hands up as though this was important. “If you were paid two million kroner to blow a guy, would you and who would it be?”
Isak rolled his eyes as Madhi and Jonas starting talking about how making gay sex seem like a punishment wasn’t cool- Isak was too embarrassed to say anything but, fuck, he loved his friends.
“You wouldn’t have to pay me,” Even said, catching Isak’s attention. “I’d do it for free, for one. Also Leonardo Dicaprio.”
What?
“ Wait,” Magnus yelped, “Even, are you fucking gay too?!”
“Magnus, we’ve talked about this,” Jonas groaned.
“Yeah but why is everyone gay,” Magnus asked, looking around at all of them and Isak would have wanted to disappear into the floor if he hadn’t also been thinking,
Is Even fucking gay too?
“ I’m pan, actually, but close.” Even smiled good naturedly at Magnus, “But I don’t know man, maybe you’re missing out on something if everybody’s doing it.”
Was Even looking at him? Was this Isak’s imagination? Wishful thinking? Or did Even lock eyes with him on purpose, trying to tell him-
“The fuck, man, maybe!” Magnus laughed. “Current Leo or Young Leo?”
“Sucking any Leo’s dick would be a privilege, Magnus,” Even said very seriously and the boys all fell into laughter.
Isak certainly had a lot to think about for the rest of the pre-game.
-
They got to the party about an hour later, and of course Isak lost everyone in the span of about fifteen minutes- Jonas and Madhi off to make out with whoever, Magnus off to try and fail to hit on girls and Even off to- do something. Suck Leo DiCaprio’s dick, probably. Isak grabbed himself a rum and coke and chilled out on the sidelines, watching the mass of people on the dancefloor.
But, thankfully, he didn’t suffer alone for long.
“Hi, Isak,” Julian Dahl called, shouting over the crowd and music as he leaned in close to talk to Isak. They ended up glued to the wall together for about half an hour, just catching up.
Isak had known Julian since his first year at Nissen- and the guy was pretty weird, wearing suits every so often for no reason and shit- but he was cool to talk to and Isak hadn’t seen him in a while.
In the middle of trading class schedule details, Isak looked up to spot Even across the room and they made eye contact. More than eye contact- through a group of dancing girls, he saw Even staring at him intensely, like he was trying to burn a hold in Isak with his eyes. Isak froze for a long second but quickly turned back to Julian to answer, yeah biochem is a real bitch, and when he glanced back Even was still staring.
What the hell?
Eventually, Julian excused himself to go talk to his buddies and Isak gave him a good-natured pat on the back as he walked away.
Which left Isak alone again, in a hot, crowded house party.
He tried to look for Even again, meet his eyes and figure out what that stare meant. Isak craned his neck for a good five minutes looking for Even, but he'd disappeared like smoke somewhere in the mass of moving bodies on the dance floor.
Maybe he was seeing things? He grabbed another drink to occupy himself and glanced around every few seconds, trying not to hope that Even would appear from nowhere. Whatever, Isak decided, throwing away his solo cup and picking up a fresh can of beer. He could have fun with his Non-Even friends.
Eventually Isak went looking for the boys- he found Jonas with his tongue down some girl’s throat and did an immediate about-face. He had no such luck finding Magnus or Madhi, shittily enough.
Fuck. Isak was on his sixth drink by the time he decided to give up and that tonight just wasn’t his night. The room had a tilt to it he was sure wasn’t there before and he knew if he had anymore he’d be a goner.
He had at least wanted to get high with the boys on the patio. Oh, Well.
He checked his phone and decided if he hurried he could catch a bus not too far away and be back at his place within the hour.
But, like everything that night, it didn’t go the way Isak expected.
As he slammed the front door open and headed for the steps he heard someone call his name from behind him on the patio.
“Isak!” Even’s deep baritone rang out, and Isak found him leaning up against the brick house, smoking.
(Isak would later blame the way he stared at Even’s hollowed cheeks as he inhaled the joint sharply on all the alcohol and would deny thinking about anything else those cheeks could hollow out on in that moment.
He’d be lying, of course.)
“Hey,” Isak called, not so much walking but gravitating closer to Even, like he wasn’t even conscious of it.
“Heading out?” Even asked, blowing smoke off to the side.
“Uh, yeah,” Isak said sloppily, doing his best not to slur his words. “It’s getting a little, you know, I’m just. Over it. And shit.”
Even nodded casually.
“Okay. Going to meet your boyfriend or something?”
Isak stopped. Or maybe the world stopped, he couldn’t tell since his alcohol induced sluggishness it took him a few seconds to absorb what Even had said.
He tried to scoff but it came out weak. “My what?”
“Your boyfriend,” Even enunciated, flicking ash onto the ground.
Some group of girls burst out of the house, laughing obnoxiously and stumbling past them onto the yard.
Why the fucking fuck did Even think he had a fucking boyfriend? Isak couldn’t wrap his head around it. His head spun too much.
“You can tell me,” Even continued. “I get you want to keep it low profile or whatever, but I don’t know man, we’re friends, right? You can tell me if you ha-“
“I don’t,” Isak blurted, louder than was probably necessary to cut Even off. He fought around his serious case of cotton mouth and stuttered out, “I don’t have an- an anything, man, what? What?”
A couple of people walked out onto the porch and settled near them, passing a few cigarettes around and all of the sudden, Isak couldn’t do this here. He wanted to talk to Even, but this was too much. He wanted to talk to Even while at home. In bed or something with lots of blankets and no lights.
“Can we get out of here?” Isak asked, grimacing. “I want to be quiet. Or have quiet. And blankets.”
Even cocked his head in question, but relented, and soon they were walking down the dark sidewalks, side by side.
It had been raining earlier, and the sidewalks were still wet, the streetlights reflecting off the puddles that had gathered in the streets, dew glistening on the wet grass. Isak thought it would be nice to lie down. But then it’d be wet and cold.
“So,” Even said eventually because Isak couldn’t think of anything and was trying hard not to either stumble and fall or just give up and lie down on the wet sidewalk. “Your boyfriend.”
“Yeah, my what?” Isak laughed at the thought, trying to lighten it all up. Everything with Even had been too heavy the last few weeks. “Who in the fuck would ever touch this with a ten foot pole, man?” Isak gestured sloppily to himself.
Even looked at him, and Isak’s stomach did flips instantly. He looked so sad.
“Don’t say that.”
Too fucking heavy. And now Isak made him even more upset. Cool. Great job, Isak.
“Sure, whatever,” Isak mumbled.
They were silent.
They walked. Their steps were the only sounds, aside from the occasional car zooming by.
“I heard you,” Even confessed into the silence, refusing to look at Isak. “I heard you talking to your mom in the kitchen when you told her. About your boyfriend.”
Isak stopped walking.
“You what?”
He grimaced apologetically. “I’m sorry, I just. I was going to do my dishes and you were talking or whatever- anyway, it doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped, but still. I know you don’t owe me anything and we haven’t known each other that long relatively, but. You don’t have to lie to me.”
“Even,” said with some force. “That was a fucking lie. ‘S not… I lied to my mom about that. ”
And so Isak told him, the confession spilling out in mixed up jumbles and a little too quick in his drunken haze, all about how worried he was for his mother and their new relationship, how he didn’t want to put any stress on her and so made up a fake boyfriend to appease her and the shitty situation he was stuck in now.
(He did not tell him, no matter how prone to over sharing drunk Isak was, that he’d told his mother his boyfriend’s name was Even. )
-
They ended up lying in the wet grass.
“And she was saying all this shit about how happy she was that I had someone and how she wished she could be there for me. So now I gotta fuckin’… walk in tomorrow and pretend like I broke up with the guy and it might just end worse than if I had just never told her he exists in th’ first place.” Isak sighed, his voice thick with alcohol induced emotion.
They were laying side by side, limbs sprawled out so that their legs were touching and Isak knew if he just inched his pinky finger a few centimeters , he could hook it around Even’s- but, no.
“Shit,” Even mumbled, turning his head to face Isak.
“Yeah.”
“You’re that worried about your mom?” Even asked.
“Yes,” Isak answered quickly. Then screwed up his face and backtracked. “Or no. I don’t know. I don’t think she’ll, like, die if I’m not with someone. I just… I just think she’s worried. And I’ve seen her go from zero to one-hundred over less shit. And I.. I think she thinks if my life isn’t perfect that means she was a bad mom. And I don’t… wanna be the one making her feel shitty like that again or whatever. We just started talking before I moved in, you know? I don’t want to fuck up that progress over something like this. I don’t know,” Isak breathed, feeling more emotional than he really should. He could hear the tremor in his voice as he spoke and the more he tried to stop it the closer to the edge he got.
He hadn’t told anyone this, yet. It felt big, saying it out loud, even if it was only half coherent. “I don’t know.”
“That’s okay,” Even said gently. And then, without taking his eyes off Isak, his warm eyes that could be so intense, felt around to take Isak’s hand, slotting their fingers together. “You don’t have to know. Sometimes you can just feel.”
Isak almost stopped breathing. They were so close. They were so, so close and now Even was holding his hand and his breathe was on his face, and when did they get so close?
Isak felt a surge of confidence in him, aided by alcohol and the warmth of Even’s hand in his, he was going to say it. He would tell Even how he felt and they would kiss, and man, Isak couldn’t stop looking at Even’s fucking lips-
“I’ll be your boyfriend,” Even said suddenly and Isak thought he was dreaming. Did Even tell him he wanted to date him? Were they going to date? Did that mean he could kiss him on those lips, with his lips and-
“When you go visit your mom tomorrow,” Even explained. “I can pretend to be your boyfriend.”
Everything broke.
Isak pulled his hand from Even’s and sat up abruptly. His heart had been in his throat and he was going to tell Even he liked him and now it sat in his stomach like a lead weight, in less than thirty seconds.
“You’ll what? No, what?”
Isak felt like a rug had been pulled from under him. He was so sure they would- they had been so close, had he been imagining the softness in Even’s eyes?
Even sat up, following Isak. He shrugged like it was no big deal, like he had offered to do Isak’s dishes.
“You want to be sure your mom is okay. You think this will make her feel better, and it’ll make you feel better. So I’ll help you out.”
Isak shook his head. “No, you won’t. That’s so... fucking awkward and- and weird, I’m not asking you to do that.” Isak couldn’t even take holding hands with Even for a few seconds, let alone imagine pretending to date him for hours, with his hands on his waist, smiling, meeting his mother.
“Isak,” Even said in earnest. “It won’t be. I want to help you. I wan t to do this. Say yes, Isak.”
His name falling from Even’s lips just sounded so nice- and Isak was lost, had never really been able to deny Even much when he asked. He would definitely come to regret it later when he finally said,
“Fine. Okay. You can come with me tomorrow.”
Even smiled at him, a true smile, for the first time in weeks. His eyes crinkled just a little and his teeth showed and Isak couldn’t think about regretting anything in that moment, as long as Even was smiling at him.
“Cool. So tomorrow? If we’re doing this, we’re going all out! So wear your favorite button-down, baby.”
Isak almost choked. Baby?!
Sitting there in the wet grass, Isak was sure he wouldn’t survive the next twenty four hours.
-
And just like that, Isak found himself in his least wrinkled grey button down shirt and khakis, stepping off the hospital shuttle bus with Even in tow.
Even, who not only was dressed up in well-fitted dress pants and a stark white dress shirt, but decided they just had to buy his mother a small bouquet of daisies for the visit and spent the entire ride there torturing Isak by practicing couple-y things and making up their backstory.
Even had slung his arm around Isak as soon as the bus took off. Isak, already a bundle of nerves, had almost jumped out of his seat.
“Relax, baby ,” Even laughed. “We’ll have to be close like this for a couple for hours at your mom’s, at least. Might at well get used to it.”
Isak hummed nervously as he tried to loosen up, but the weight of Even’s arm around him, the feeling of Even’s fingers drawing little circles on his shoulder, the word baby dripping from Even’s tongue so naturally, made Isak a lot of things, but loose was none of them.
And now they’d arrived, story in place, details ironed out, and fresh daisies in hand. They sat on one of the many familiar floral sofas, waiting for Isak’s mother to meet them. Even was bouncing his leg at a quick, nervous pace and Isak wondered if he was really as anxious as Isak felt, despite all his bravado.
“Are you okay?” Isak nudged him.
“Yeah,” Even replied absently, stilling himself. “I just don’t do hospitals or, like, medical care stuff often. Bad experiences.”
And Isak felt so dumb because of course Even would be uncomfortable- he’d told Isak some less than thrilling stories about his own experiences with being put in institutions, once- and god if he wasn’t the most inconsiderate fucker for not even asking.
“We don’t have to stay,” Isak started but Even cut him off with a wave and a smile.
“No, really, it’s fine,” he replied. “This is nothing like any place I’ve ever been. Much less “Girl, Inturrupted.”
“Never seen it.”
Even went slack jawed and stared Isak down like he’d grown a second head.
“I don’t know if I can date you anymore,” he said, feigning shock. “I have to break up with you.”
Isak rolled his eyes. Even always pulled out the dramatics when Isak told him he’d never seen this or that obscure film Even was obsessed with.
He couldn’t help liking happy movies, okay?
“Shut up,” Isak crossed his arms and tried not to smile.
“I see you’re desperate for me to take you back,” Even put his arm around Isak, again, and rubbed his shoulder. “It’s alright, you don’t have to beg, really. We’ll watch it together, then I can date you.”
“Shut up,” Isak laughed, elbowing Even gently.
When Marianne appeared with a nurse at her side, Isak jumped out of Even’s embrace and nearly sprinted to his mother.
“ Mamma,” he said, giving her a quick embrace. “Hi! Hi. How are you?”
“I’m lovely, dear,” she said, looking over his shoulder with a barely contained smile. “And who is this?”
Even introduced himself and pulled Marianne into a light bear hug. He presented the flowers with a bright smile and a gentle, “for you. They were Isak’s idea.”
(No, they weren’t.)
Marianne absolutely lit up. She thanked Even profusely, remarking what a gentleman he was and how sweet they both were, to bring her flowers.
The nurse offered to put them in some water in Marianne’s room and disappeared with the bouquet as they all took a seat, Isak and Even on a loveseat and Marianne in a cushy single chair across from them.
Isak was immediately lost in a haze of the pretend relationship he and Even set up for his mother. After a while, he relaxed into the causal hand holding and other touches, and even felt himself lean into them.
It felt real. Like he could, for just this moment, pretend none of this was a lie and that he and Even were together in every way Isak had imagined before. He was almost delirious with happiness as they all chatted and laughed and drank cheap vending machine tea.
More than once he felt his heart swell when he saw the gleam in his mother’s eye at the way Even played with Isak’s fingers or put his hand on Isak’s knee.
There was a time Isak never thought this would even be possible- that his mother would be so happy or even accepting of him being in a relationship with a man. Whatever best case scenario he’d dreamed up before coming out to his mother, he could never have predicted feeling this content, this proud, this at home in his own skin and his relationship with his mom.
“So, Even, how did you two meet?”
Even’s smile widened and he took Isak’s hand in his own, staring at Isak with such a convincing love-struck gaze, Isak felt his face flush. They had prepared this part on the bus, so Isak was sure he wouldn’t be surprised by Even’s answer. They’d agreed to stick with the roommate story, and had vaguely outlined it all and Isak was ready for a vaguely more cheesy version of their actual meeting.
“We’re roommates, actually. Isak needed a place and I needed a roommate and we have a friend in common, so- it all kind of fell into place.” Isak nodded along.
“I thought I was getting a new roommate and potentially a new friend to go to bars with and all that- but when Isak walked in the door, his hands full of boxes, I was struck.” Even’s hand tightened around his and Isak felt his breath hitch, unable to look away from Even’s soft gaze.
This was fucking wrong. He wasn’t ready for this.
“We spent some time together and I fell in love almost straight out of the gate,” Even laughed. “He was just so… passionate about his interests, and kind, and funny, and the master of cooking.” Isak was surprised to hear Even referencing the first night they cooked together, when Isak burnt all of the potatoes after claiming to be a master chef. He didn’t think Even would have even remembered that.
“So, after a few weeks, I sat us down to watch one of my favorite movies, Pretty Woman, and I took his hand, just like this,” Even squeezed his hand again, staring at their interlocked fingers, “and I asked him out.”
That whole “ hitched breath” thing was turning into a full-blown breathing problem. Isak had to put extra effort into reminding himself to take a breath every few seconds and he listened to Even wax poetic about their fake relationship and get-together.
Except, how fake was it? Those things had happened, except Even had never asked him out. Even never had any interest in him, but now Isak could see so clearly a universe in which it did happen, what it would have been like had his affection for Even been returned in those first few weeks. And it was all too real for him, suddenly. The hand holding and the goo-goo eyes and the real stories about their time together was too painful. It was like a big slap in the face, like someone spelling out for him in big, bold letters, “ YOU WILL NEVER HAVE THIS.”
His heart dropped into his stomach.
He couldn’t get that thought out of his head for the rest of the visit. He sat through another hour of chatting and a quick game of Scrabble, keeping up a cheerful face as best he could. When they finally said their goodbyes, Marianne wrapped them both in a tight hug, full of love and acceptance and true happiness that only left an ashy taste in Isak’s mouth.
None of this is real. It won’t ever be real.
They walked out of the building with Even’s arm around Isak’s waist and his kiss on Isak’s temple. Only an hour ago, that kiss would have burned so sweetly Isak would have melted on the spot. Now it just felt like the punchline to a cruel joke.
And wasn’t it a joke? The way Even laughed when he called Isak “ baby,” or made fun of him when he went still in his arms. How ridiculously excited was Even to play the “dating” game? To play at making up cute stories and little quirks and nicknames for their “relationship”? To see how well they could fool everyone? This was a great time for him, dating Isak Valtersen was both an amazing favor for Isak and a hilarious joke for Even! Because the thought of really being interested in Isak was a joke, one that he could have fun with while simultaneously patting himself on the back for saving a friend. The realization about Even’s attitude, how Even really saw this whole thing the entire time hit him a little too hard.
Isak was just a joke.
As the automatic doors shut behind them and Isak was sure his mother was no longer watching, he wrenched himself from Even’s grip and went ahead boarding the waiting shuttle.
“Isak?” Even called, climbing up the bus steps after him. He followed Isak to his seat, where he plopped down with his arms crossed, resting his head against the window.
“You okay?” Even asked softly, taking the seat next to him.
Like you care, he wanted to say. He wanted to snap at Even, ask him if he thought Isak being upset was funny, too. But he kept his mouth shut and just nodded. Fuck, keep it together. He wasn’t going to get emotional over this.
He wasn’t.
“Tired,” he explained, his voice rough. He shifted his body away from Even and closed his eyes.
God, please don’t let me fucking cry on this stupid fucking bus.
“Okay,” Even responded beside him. “Let me know if you want to talk.”
Isak pretended to sleep the whole ride home, his face pressed against the window, and hoped that Even didn’t notice the way his shoulders trembled.