Archive of Our Own

1. Ages 5 and 3: Bubbles

A week ago mamma bought Even a set of bubble tubes. They're all small enough to fit in his pocket, and each of them has a different colour and a different shape at the end of the stick thing you have to dip into the soapy liquid to blow bubbles with. Mamma eyed him sceptically when he held it up to her in the store and asked for it as politely as he knew how, passing a hand over his hair and explaining that the bubbles would still all come out round, no matter if they were blown through a star, or a circle, or even a little rubber ducky shape.

Even did hope mamma would be wrong, if he's honest, but they're still fun. Every day he gets to pick whichever one he feels like and put it in his pocket before mamma takes him to nursery school. There's just something about bubbles that fascinates Even. The way they’re so many colours and none at the same time. How it feels like if he could just be gentle enough, then he could hold one, maybe.

He picked the bright green star, this morning. It's almost empty, because the tube really is small, and it's his favourite, so he's picked it twice before. He had to share it as well, at nursery school, until he put it away with his jacket by the hangers instead, but mamma said they could refill it at home, so he's not worried about emptying it now.

There's other kids at the playground mamma took him to, but he doesn't really want to go join them right now. There's a group of them playing ball, big kids like him, and a little one who's mostly just chasing after them. Even prefers sitting on his little patch of grass and trying to see how big a bubble he can blow if he does it very, very carefully.

“What are you doing?” a curious voice interrupts him, just as Even has blown the biggest bubble so far. It breaks as he startles at the interruption, before he could try and get it to float off the bubble wand.

When Even looks up to glare at whoever interrupted him, it's that little kid he's seen chasing the older kids more than the football earlier.

“Blowing bubbles,” Even says, because duh. Isn't it obvious?

“Show me,” the kid demands, face pinched like he can't work it out.

“What, you've never seen bubbles before?” Even asks, incredulous.

The boy scrunches his face up some more, somewhat defensive, and Even instantly feels mean. He didn't mean to pick on him.

“Okay, I'll show you,” he says, and dunks the star back into the tube. He purses his lips and brings it up to his mouth, blowing a controlled breath into it. He makes it a faster one, so there's lots of little bubbles, some of which hit the boy in the face, making him startle and blink.

Even laughs and the bubbles stop.

“Why aren't they stars?” the boy asks him, watching the last few bubbles pop in mid-air. One sinks down and sits on a blade of grass for a moment before it, too, pops.

“Bubbles are always round,” Even says wisely. “That's just how they work.”

The boy wrinkles his forehead again. It makes him look far angrier than Even has ever seen someone look at bubbles.

“That makes no sense,” the boy says, and turns on his heel to go back to the kids playing ball.

Whatever. Even didn't really want him to stick around anyway. At least he can go back to trying to make bigger bubbles now, without this kid interrupting him.

He manages two, but then the boy is back. Even sees his shoes at the edge of his field of vision, but this time the boy doesn't speak until after the bubble pops.

“Why was this one bigger than the others?” he asks.

“When you blow slow you get one big one, but when you blow fast you get many little ones,” Even says. “I was blowing fast for you earlier.”

“So it's not like a balloon then?” the boy asks.

“No,” Even says. “It's bubbles. They're made of soap and water not… balloon stuff.”

The boy looks at him and then nods, once, like he accepts this explanation.

“Can I try?” he asks.

Even wants to say no, he already had to share with the kids at nursery school earlier, but the boy looks so determined, and Even knows mamma would want him to share.

“Fine,” Even says. He dips the star back into the tube and then hands it over to him.

The boy blows in it way too hard, and all that happens is that the soap water gets sprayed in Even's face.

“Hey!” he complains.

“This is stupid,” the boy says with a deep frown, and thrusts the hand holding Even's bubble wand back out at him. Even grabs it back, and the boy whirls around to run over to the swing set. Even watches him swing for a bit, and then goes back to his bubbles. They're not stupid. The boy's just too little to do it properly.

This time, when he comes back, Even isn't even really surprised. He stands a bit further away from Even this time, like he doesn't want to admit he's still fascinated by the bubbles he called stupid earlier. Even lets him be and concentrates on his bubbles, until the tube's almost empty and he has to move the bubble wand thing around and tilt the tube to even get the star fully coated in soapy liquid. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees the boy's face fall. He brings the bubble wand up in front of his face, but then hesitates.

“Do you want to try again?” he asks, holding it out to the boy instead.

The boy startles and visibly struggles with himself for a moment, but then he nods, a little shyly.

“I'm Even,” Even says as he hands the bubble wand over.

The boy squints at it suspiciously, and then looks up at Even.

“I'm Isak,” he says and then holds up four fingers of his free hand before frowning at his hand and curling one finger back down. “I'm three.”

Even holds up all five fingers of his own hand.

“I'm five,” he says proudly. “I'll show you how to blow bubbles, okay?”

Isak nods, handing the bubble wand back over.

“Okay.”

2. Ages 9 and 7: Whistling

Isak kicks the ball a bit too hard and it bounces off the wall of Even's house with a loud smack, leaving a dirty smudge on the wall.

“Isak!” Even complains. “Ugh, mamma's gonna be mad at me.”

“Sorry,” Isak says, eyes wide. “Can we wash it off or something?”

“No, it'll come off with the rain,” Even says, putting his hands on his hips and sighing. “You need to be a bit more careful though.”

“I said I'm sorry. I didn't mean to,” Isak grumbles, turning away from Even to go fetch the ball.

Isak's always so sensitive about being called out when he does something wrong. It's really annoying sometimes. Even huffs another sigh and tries to smooth out the frown he can feel sitting on his face. He’s sure he wasn't this pouty at seven. And, okay, for the most part Isak's great. Just sometimes Even can't believe his best friend is really a kid two years younger than him.

“Even!” Isak calls out to him then, interrupting his train of thought.

Even looks over at where Isak is just in time to see him line up a shot.

“Not towards the--!” is all Even has time to yell before Isak frowns, pulls back his leg, and kicks the ball over to Even so perfectly, all he has to do is remember to stop it with his own foot.

When Even looks up from the ball under his own foot over at Isak, Isak's beaming proudly, drawn up to his full height. Even lets out a complimentary and surprised whistle.

“That was amazing,” he says when Isak jogs back over. “Please always do that, and not the thing where you kick the ball against the wall of my house.”

“Shut up,” Isak grumbles, but Even sees the pleased flush on his cheeks and the way he can't quite bite down the grin. Because he's a nice person though, he's not going to tease Isak for it. They'd just lose the light to squabbling, and the days are already getting so much shorter than Even would like. They only have another half hour or so probably before mamma's going to call them back inside to do the homework they abandoned earlier, and Even really doesn't want to waste it.

“Okay, we'll move the goal over there, so you won't have to kick towards the house anymore. Just please don't kick it over the hedge either,” Even says with a grin.

Fine, maybe he's not that nice.

Isak rolls his eyes and gives Even a little shove, but not one he really means. Even laughs and jogs over towards the hedge.

“Bet you can't get five past me!” he calls back over to Isak when he's found his place.

“Bet I can!” Isak yells, lining up the ball.

“Loser has to give up their pudding!” Even suggests, and Isak thinks it over for a bit before nodding.

“I could always do with a second cup of pudding,” he says.

Even laughs.

“As if, Isak,” he says. “You won't be having even just a spoonful of pudding today!”

“I'm the best player in my class!” Isak boasts, putting his hands on his hips.

“A class of ninety-niners ,” Even taunts. Nothing riles Isak up like lording their two year age gap over his head.

“You're the one about to be beaten by one!” Isak calls over, and makes sure the ball is lined up exactly how he wants it.

“Not over the hedge, remember,” Even says, because the angrier Isak is, the sloppier he'll be.

Isak ignores him – something Even would be impressed by under different circumstances – and takes a few steps back. He looks up, staring Even down, and then jogs up to the ball. Even sees him draw his leg back, sure this shot will go wide like most of Isak's do, but his foot connects with the ball perfectly and makes it fly right over Even's shoulder, crashing into the hedge, but bouncing back down on their side of the garden.

“Ha!” Isak yells, pumping his fist in the air.

“I let you have that one,” Even says. He didn't.

Isak huffs. Even can see his glare from here.

“Whatever,” he grumbles. “Just kick the ball back over.”

Even does, and Isak repeats his careful lineup from before.

“Wait, five out of how many?” he then asks, looking up suddenly.

“What?”

“You said to get five past you. Five out of how many?” Isak repeats.

Even grins. He didn't think that far ahead when he proposed the challenge, but now that Isak's letting him set the terms…

“Five out of five,” he says with a grin.

Isak's mouth drops open in indignation. That's not how they usually do things.

“That's not—!” he starts, but then huffs and steels himself, determined. “Fine. Five out of five.”

A minute later he's got two out of five and that frown on his face is momentarily replaced with a grin. He gets the third and fourth one as well, and Even has to admit he's grudgingly impressed. They're all carefully lined up shots, probably nothing Isak can reproduce in the heat of a game yet, as evidenced by their earlier messy horsing around, but they're still good.

“Four down, one to go,” Isak taunts, and Even glares over at him. Isak will definitely actually make him hand his pudding over if he gets this one too. Isak is a sore loser and an even sorer winner.

They stare each other down for a few moments, and then, as if not wanting to give Even a chance to prepare, Isak pulls his leg back suddenly and kicks. Even flings himself to the side, arms outstretched, and lands with a soft thud on the grass, ball cradled safely against his stomach.

“Ha!” he yells. “Told you!”

Isak kicks at the grass in frustration and then plops down on it, crossing his arms and legs.

“Did you see that? That was good,” Even gloats, pushing himself back up and then ambling over to Isak. “Frankly, I deserve that second pudding.”

Isak rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, and imitates Even's earlier impressed whistle, only-- it sounds absolutely nothing like a whistle.

Even's smile turns from triumphant to amused and he laughs as he sits down in the grass opposite Isak. It's a bit damp on his bum, but not too bad to sit.

“Isak, do you not know how to whistle?” he asks.

Isak flushes red.

“Shut up,” he says and ducks his head.

“Wait, you really don't know?”

“No, I can't do it! I don't know why, but it doesn't work! You can stop laughing at me now,” Isak grumbles, still not looking up at Even.

Even frowns a little. He wasn't laughing at Isak. Not, like, in a mean way.

“I could teach you, if you wanted,” he says instead.

Isak looks up at Even like he's an idiot and rolls his eyes.

“Pappa already tried,” he says. “I can't do it.”

“Well, that's stupid; everyone can whistle,” Even insists.

“Obviously not. Because I can't.”

“Show me how you do it,” Even demands, setting the ball down next to him and scooting closer to Isak so he can get a better look.

Isak shifts a little, clearly uncomfortable, so Even sighs impatiently. He wants his pudding and if Isak is going to be unbearably stubborn about this, then fine. He won't teach him how to whistle. But then Isak purses his lips, though timidly, and blows a gust of air in Even's face.

Even wrinkles his nose.

“You need to purse your lips more,” he says. “Like this, watch.”

He demonstrates a short whistle, trying to keep his lips like that a moment longer.

When Isak copies, his mouth still looks nothing like it needs to.

“No, you need to do it more like...” Even says, and reaches out to squish Isak's lips together vertically with his fingers.

Isak immediately flinches back and bats his hand away.

“Even!” he complains, and Even laughs.

“You just need to practice, dummy,” Even says, climbing up to stand again. “People are idiots if they're mean to you about it.”

“Oh, so you're an idiot?” Isak asks, smug grin on his face.

Even gives him a shove and then leans down to pick up the ball.

“Come on, I want my puddings now,” he says.

Isak grumbles all the way into the kitchen. Mamma doesn't let Even have two cups, tells him they know perfectly well they can only have one so close to dinner, but if Isak lost his in a game, she can always eat it. Moments later, she walks out of the kitchen with the cup of chocolate pudding and Isak and Even stare after her with mouths open wide in shock.

Even takes pity on Isak and grabs a second spoon so they can share his cup of pudding. Later, when they're finishing their homework at the kitchen table while mamma cooks, Even even pretends he can't tell Isak keeps pursing his lips like he's more worried about figuring out why he can't seem to manage a proper whistle than the maths problems in front of him.

3. Ages 13 and 11: Kissing

“Snowboarding is way more fun than skiing, Isak, I'm telling you,” Even says, reaching up to brush a strand of hair back from his forehead.

Isak makes a vague noise, but doesn't turn away from the book he's got his nose buried in. Even's not even sure if it's for school or not. He's been reading since before Even came over.

“It's so much more, like, dynamic, you know?” Even says, prodding Isak's leg with his foot. They're both on Isak's bed, Isak leaned up against the wall with his legs criss-crossed in front of him, the book resting in his lap. Even's stretched out with his head by the foot end of Isak's bed.

“Isak,” Even says, poking Isak's thigh a little harder with his toes. “Isaaak.”

“Snowboarding is dynamic, yes, I can hear you, Even,” Isak says, but doesn't look up, just bats at Even's foot so he'll stop digging his toes into Isak's leg.

Even heaves a sigh and rolls his head to the side so he can look around Isak's room. There's not really anything interesting in here. Even's been over so many times, he knows this room as well as his own. He supposes he could always get up and go grab a book of his own from Isak's shelf. One of the Harry Potters maybe.

Ugh, he's just so bored . Isak was supposed to be impressed with Even's snowboarding tales, but instead he had asked exactly one question (“Can you go faster than on skis?”) and when Even had answered that (“It's about the same”) he'd gone back to his book.

“I kissed a girl,” Even says, in a last ditch attempt at catching Isak's attention.

Even remembers having his first crush at eight years old. Mari had had a head of wild, blonde curls as bright as sunshine, a loud laugh, and in the summer she'd had a few freckles sprinkled over the bridge of her adorable nose. Even's not sure why he thought her nose was so particularly adorable, but it was, and he'd been in love. He'd walked her all the way to her front door every day after school for two entire months before he dared ask her if she liked him back. She told him she thought he was nice and held his hand on the walk home the next day.

Then there'd been Eva, and Marte, and Jorunn, and Karoline, and Hedda. And now there'd been Cecilie, with her long red hair braided around her head like a crown. The afternoon Even had kissed her, she'd taken it down, and it had fallen down her back like a sea of copper. Like autumn leaves. Or a sunset. Even's fingers had gotten tangled in it even before they'd leaned in to press their mouths together. She was fourteen already, and Even had spent the entire first day convincing her that his February birthday meant he was as good as fourteen himself, never mind that she was about to turn fifteen in March.

But Isak, at eleven years old, has never had a crush. It's not that he minds girls, as far as Even can tell. He seems to like Sara from his class, who he got randomly seated with and who's really smart, according to him. He also gets along well with Thea, who walks almost the exact same way to school as him and thus they walk together more often than not. Yet whenever Even brings up a girl or asks Isak if he's had a crush yet, Isak wrinkles his nose and tells him he just doesn't think any of the girls he knows are that cute.

Now though, Isak looks up from his book and over at Even. His nose isn't quite wrinkled, but he does look a bit like he's not sure what to do with that information.

“You did?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Even says with a sly grin. “With tongue and everything.”

Now Isak's nose is definitely wrinkled.

“Why would you want to put your tongue in her mouth. That sounds really gross,” he says dubiously.

Even laughs.

“That's because you're a baby,” he says.

“No, I'm not,” Isak protests immediately, still as predictable when it comes to that as ever. “I just don't want someone's half-chewed sandwich leftovers on my tongue or something.”

“Gross,” Even says. “That's not how it goes!”

“Maybe you just got lucky,” Isak taunts. “You've only done it the once.”

“That's once more than you. You've never even kissed someone without tongue.”

“Not my fault I don't have a crush on any of the girls in my class. We can't all fall in love with literally everyone we meet the way you do.”

“Well, I'm not in love with you, so not everyone,” Even teases.

Isak rolls his eyes. “Well, obviously.”

“Don't worry, Isak,” Even goes on dramatically, and sits up to lay a heavy hand on each of Isak's shoulders. “Someone will fall in love with you eventually.”

“I'm not worried,” Isak says, trying not to smile at Even's antics.

“Good,” Even says. “You're really not that ugly.”

Isak huffs and reaches up to push Even's hands off his shoulders.

“Oh, shut up.”

Even laughs and pinches Isak’s cheek just because he can.

“Well, in the meantime, you should try kissing a few girls,” Even says with a shrug. “It's fun, and you don't have to be, like, in love with them to kiss. I'm not in love with Cecilie, she was just really cute.”

“I really don't think it sounds that great,” Isak insists, picking his book back up.

Even reaches out to snap it shut and set it down behind his own back.

“How would you know, you've never done it,” he challenges.

“Do you like Brussels sprouts?” Isak shoots back, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“What? No, they're gross, you know that, but wh--”

“Well, how would you know when you never try them,” Isak challenges him right back.

Even huffs a sigh.

“That's different. I can smell how gross they are, you can't smell kissing.”

“Yeah, but I can see it, and it doesn't look like something I want to do,” Isak insists.

“Maybe you don't like girls,” Even suggests, shrugging. “Maybe you like boys instead. Do you think I'm cute?”

“What? I don't like boys, Even, oh my god,” Isak groans, glaring at Even with his arms still crossed, shoulders hunched defensively.

“There's nothing wrong with it! I'm just saying, maybe you don't have crushes cause you've been looking at the wrong people! Like, what about that Jonas guy? You like him, right?”

“We're friends Even! I'm allowed to have friends!” Isak blusters. “If I don't want to kiss girls, I definitely don't want to kiss boys!”

“How would you know if you've never tried?” Even insists.

“Well, how do you know?” Isak shoots back, looking triumphant when it makes Even stumbles in his thoughts for a moment.

How does he know?

“I suppose I don't,” he says with a little shrug.

The surprise at the admission leeches the tension out of Isak's body, shoulders falling back down.

“I mean, it can't be all that different,” Even goes on. “Lips are lips, right? Girls have them, boys have them too. I'm sure if you had your eyes closed and didn't know who was kissing you you wouldn't be able to tell if it's a girl or a boy.”

“You want to kiss boys?” Isak asks, face still slack with surprise.

“I didn't say I want to, just that I don't know,” Even says. “Why? Will you not be my friend anymore if I kiss boys? That's stupid, you know.”

“No, of course not. I don't care who you kiss,” Isak says.

Even smiles a little, and Isak smiles back, like he's not even thinking about it.

“So how do you know?” Even asks.

“What?”

“How do you know you don't want to kiss a boy?” Even asks.

Isak huffs a breath and his arms tighten a little, but he doesn't say anything for a moment or two and then shrugs.

“I suppose I don't either,” he finally says.

Even nods, plan forming in his head.

“We should try,” he says.

“What?” Isak asks, eyes going wide.

“Yeah, it's perfect! We can find out if we like kissing boys, and you learn how to kiss at all, too! If you think about it, I'm really doing you a favour,” Even says.

“I never asked you to teach me how to kiss!” Isak insists, blushing a little.

“Yeah, but if I do, then whenever you do want to start kissing people, you'll already know what to do and they'll be all impressed,” Even says with a grin.

Isak sighs like he knows Even's not going to let this go.

“You are not putting your tongue in my mouth,” he says, pointing a stern finger right between Even's eyes.

“Fine, I don't want to anyway,” Even says, and shuffles around so he can sit opposite Isak on the bed. Their legs are kind of in the way, but it'll have to do.

“Okay, so,” Even starts, putting his hands on his knees and leaning forward. “You have to purse your lips a little.”

“I do know how kissing works, Even, I'm not an idiot,” Isak says, copying Even's stance.

“Alright then,” Even grins. “Show me what you got.”

Isak squares his shoulders like he's going into battle or something, and Even bites down on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from grinning too widely. That won't do this whole endeavour any favours.

“It doesn't hurt,” he teases, and Isak huffs at it, but he relaxes too.

Even licks his lips a little, watching the way Isak's eyes are drawn to the movement, and then decides if he doesn't lean in and go through with this now, he's not going to at all. So he leans forward and tilts his head to line his lips up with Isak's, pressing them together. It's not… much. Isak's lips are a little pursed, to match the way Even's are, but they're both just sitting there, sort of staring at the blurry images of each others' faces up close with their mouths pushed together unspectacularly.

Even pulls back.

“I don't see what the big deal is,” Isak says.

“Because you did it wrong,” Even says.

“Me? I did exactly what you did!” Isak insists. Even supposes that's technically true.

“Just let me...” Even starts, but doesn't finish his sentence, leaning in again instead. He lifts one one of his hands from his knee to put on Isak's face, his thumb on the soft of Isak's cheek, palm along the line of his jaw. “Follow my lead, okay?”

When their lips come together again it's not much different, truth be told. It's a little better, because Even tries moving his lips against Isak's, and Isak starts to copy it after a moment's hesitation, but all in all it's not very exciting. It's not terrible either, but there aren't any butterflies in Even's belly, no excitement at having gotten this far, no nothing.

Probably testing the whole kissing boys thing on Isak wasn't the smartest move. Kissing Isak is just kissing Isak who he's known for almost as long as he can remember.

Isak goes along with it until Even pulls back, only makes a tiny noise of complaint when Even prods at his lips with his tongue once, but when Even opens his eyes again, Isak's nose is wrinkled a little in something like distaste.

“You're not making a good case for kissing,” he says. “This is boring.”

“Well, you're not making a good case for kissing boys either,” Even pouts. It's not like he was expecting to wow Isak or anything, but he doesn't have to be quite that unimpressed.

“I wasn't trying to,” Isak says.

Even sighs and leans back, letting his hand fall from Isak's face.

“It's fine, Isak; you're only eleven, after all,” he says.

For once, Isak doesn't protest. The silence between them feels a little bit awkward, and Even sort of feels like it’s his fault, so he decides to drop it and instead lets himself fall down onto Isak’s bad to dramatically groan into his hands.

“But can we please play FIFA or something? I'm so bored,” he whines.

4. Ages 15 and 13: Cigarettes

Isak looks a little swaddled in Even's jacket, but he'd forgotten his own at school and Even isn't about to make him walk around in just his thin jumper, is he. The October chill is seriously starting to creep in now. But they'd been meaning to go see A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence for weeks now (okay, maybe not weeks, and maybe mostly Even), so when they left Even's earlier for the cinema, he'd grabbed another jacket for himself and handed Isak the one he'd been wearing to school all week. Isak hadn't even tried to protest that he'd be fine, just hunched his shoulders against the cold. Now that they're stood on the far warmer tram, Even can practically watch him relax again.

“You should consider a style change,” Even teases, pulling at the hem of the jacket. “It suits you.”

Isak rolls his eyes. “Not going to happen, Even.”

“Denim jackets are going to come back around, you'll see,” Even insists.

“Absolutely not,” Isak says, though Even's pretty sure he's really only doing it to contradict Even.

“Absolutely yes. And then I'll have been wearing them for years,” Even grins.

Isak gives him a dubious look and shakes his head a little, like he's disappointed. “Could you be any more of a pretentious hipster?”

“I could go to Katta or Bakka,” Even suggests.

Isak grins and nudges him with his knee.

“You are going to Bakka next year,” he points out.

“If I get in,” Even says, which makes Isak roll his eyes like he hasn't even considered Even might not. “And anyway, that's next year.”

“You can always ask Sonja to tutor you, if you're worried about your grades” Isak suggests with a sly smile.

Even rolls his eyes and tries to fight down the grin that's threatening to take over his face at the mention of her name. “I never should have told you about her.”

“Like you could. I've known about every single girl you've ever had a crush on. You can't shut up about them,” Isak says and laughs a little.

“I could if I wanted to,” Even says, and gives Isak's jacket a firm tug, just to see him wobble a little.

“So then why don't you spare me your gushing about her blond hair and her cute nose and her sparkling smile,” Isak groans, pouting at Even a little exaggeratedly.

Even laughs. “Because, Isak, you're my friend, and you obviously want to hear everything that's going on in my life.”

“I really don't,” Isak says, but he's grinning too now. “And anyway, it's not like there is anything going on except you pining from a distance.”

Even turns his head away for a moment and just barely resists the temptation of trying to rub the blush off his cheek somehow.

“Well,” he says a little helplessly, gaze flitting back to Isak. He looks a bit intense, like he's trying to figure Even out, but he's still smiling, if a little softer now. “It's different, with Sonja. I really really like her.”

Isak seems to mull it over for a moment and then frowns.

“You didn't like all the others?” he asks.

“No, I liked them; of course I did,” Even says. “It's just different with Sonja. With a lot of the other girls I knew it wasn't going to last, you know? It wasn't that serious, just a bit of infatuation. But I really like Sonja. She's awesome. You know?”

Isak hums like he does.

“You've had girlfriends before too though,” Isak points out. “And you've, like, introduced them to your parents and such.”

“Yeah,” Even says. “But it's still different with Sonja. I don't know how to explain it.”

“You don't have to explain yourself,” Isak says. “They're your feelings, so if you say you feel a certain way about her then that's that. I just don't understand, I guess.”

“And that's why I want to explain,” Even says with a grin, heart warm with Isak's words. He's not always sure Isak realises just how much the things he says sometimes mean to Even, or just how smart and mature they are, but he treasures them anyway.

“It's okay,” Isak shrugs and grins at him. “I'll know it when I feel it, right?”

Even laughs. “Yeah, you will.”

He thinks Isak worries sometimes that he's never going to feel it. On the one hand Even wants to reassure him that he probably will, that it just takes more for some people, that Even is just particularly open with his affections. On the other he wants to tell him even if he doesn't ever feel it that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with him, but-- Even's gone on about the joys of being in love in all its various forms so much, it'd probably come off disingenuous.

“And my point still stands anyway; nothing's happening with Sonja. And it won't, unless you make it happen,” Isak says.

“Or she makes it happen,” Even points out, but Isak only rolls his eyes in response.

“Yeah, sure, but do you want to wait for her to like you back and grow the courage to do something about it, or just do something about your crush yourself? You never know, she might not have given it much thought so far but like you well enough to go on a date and then she falls in love with you,” Isak says.

Even resist the urge to groan. Isak and his lack of experience really shouldn't be making so much sense when talking about relationships.

“I know,” he whines a little. “But what if she turns me down?”

“Then your heart will be broken and you will whine for a few weeks until you're over her,” Isak says.

“That does not sound like fun,” Even complains.

Isak laughs. “I don't think it's supposed to be.”

“Shut up, smartass.”

Even reaches out to swat at Isak half-heartedly, and Isak ducks with another bout of laughter.

“But, honestly,” Isak starts, shifting his weight a little and gaze skitting away from Even. “I hope it happens with her and it's as great as you think.”

“You big old softie,” Even teases, but nudges Isak's leg with his knee. “Thanks, though. I'll let you know if anything does happen.”

“I'm sure you will,” Isak groans with what Even is going to staunchly pretend is fake annoyance.

“You complain, but you really love me,” Even insists.

Isak rolls his eyes, but he doesn't protest, which is as good as a declaration of love from him these days. It's odd, Even thinks, that they've known each other for ten whole years now. That's two thirds of his life. It's almost three quarters of Isak's. They're not making pacts to stay best friends forever anymore, but Even's pretty sure if they've made it through the last ten years, they've got a good shot at making it through the next however many.

“Anyway, what's this movie about again and why do we so absolutely have to see it?” Isak asks, and Even launches into an explanation of the genius that is A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence . Isak's only half listening, but that's already half more than he does when he really can't be bothered, so Even counts it as a win.

About three hours later when they leave the cinema, Isak's first comment is, “What exactly was that?”

“You know, I'm not sure,” Even says, grinning over at Isak who only gives him one of those long-suffering looks.

“And it's really fucking cold. Thanks for the jacket,” Isak adds, stuffing his hands into the pockets and hunching his shoulders against the cold.

“You're welcome. You can keep it and just give it back to me at school tomorrow,” Even says.

“Thanks,” Isak mumbles, and then frowns before pulling a slightly dented cigarette out of one of the pockets of Even's jacket.

Right. That's in there. Even really shouldn't have forgotten that that's in there. It's highly unlikely Isak's going to tell on him, but from the way he frowns down at it, Even figures he's about to receive a 'smoking is bad for you and I'm disappointed' lecture.

“You smoke now?” Isak asks, finally looking up at Even with a frown on his face.

“Not much,” Even says defensively. “I've just done it a couple times with Eskil. He stole a few from his older brother and we wanted to know what it's like.”

Even takes the cigarette from Isak's hand and then pushes his hand into the pocket Isak just pulled the cigarette from and pulls out a lighter.

“What, you're gonna smoke it now?” Isak asks, eyes wide. “Your mother's gonna notice.”

“No, she's not. We've been out. I could have just stood next to someone who smokes.”

Isak raises a dubious eyebrow, but Even stares him down and brings the cigarette up to his lips, lighting it. At Even's first exhale (slightly inexpert, but it's not like Isak can tell), Isak coughs pointedly and waves the smoke away from his face.

“At least don't blow it right in my face,” he complains.

Even grins and waggles his eyebrows, laughing when it makes Isak blush even as he rolls his eyes. He pulls Isak along by the sleeve a little ways away from the entrance so they're not blocking it quite as much before he takes his next drag. If he's honest, he's not yet quite used to the way the smoke feels filling up his mouth and throat and lungs, but there is something weirdly soothing about the controlled breathing and the rhythmic nature of it.

“You know smoking's not a good idea, right?” Isak says, fretting a bit.

Even rolls his eyes.

“Neither is junkfood and energy drinks and staying up late,” he says.

Isak rolls his eyes again.

“Not the same thing.”

Even doesn't reply, just takes another drag, exhaling carefully away from Isak's face this time and watching the way Isak's eyes track all of his movements.

“Want to try?” he offers, holding the cigarette out between them.

Isak looks a little sceptical and the cigarette burns down far enough that a bit of ash falls down from the tip between them before Isak makes a decision, reaching for it.

“What do I do?” he asks.

“You suck a bit of it into your mouth – actually your lungs, but that's just gonna make you choke, so go slow,” Even advises.

Isak stares down at the cigarette for another moment and then mimics Even's earlier movement, bringing the cigarette up to his mouth. Despite Even's warning, he starts coughing almost immediately, holding the cigarette back out to Even while he turns away and coughs into his other hand. Even laughs a little as he takes the cigarette back, omitting to tell Isak that he'd reacted pretty much exactly like that the first time.

“That's horrible,” Isak says, voice a little scratchy from coughing. “Why on Earth do you do that?”

“I don't know,” Even says. “Calms me down, kinda.”

Isak frowns at him for a moment again, but doesn't say anything until Even's finished the cigarette, rubbing it out underneath his foot before picking it back up to throw away.

“We should go get some gum on the way home,” Isak says. “In case we smell. So your mother doesn't notice.”

Even grins.

“Good thinking,” he says, and he and Isak easily fall into step on their way back to the tram stop.

Ages 18 and 15: Weed

When Even comes back into his bedroom with a bag of popcorn in one hand, and two glasses in the other, a large bottle of Fanta cradled in the crook of his arm, it's to Isak holding up a pre-rolled joint, an eyebrow quirked. Even has a bit of déjà-vû.

“You smoke weed now?” Isak asks.

Even shrugs, because obviously he's not just 'holding it for a friend'.

“Yeah,” he says, and moves over to set the popcorn and soda down on the floor by the small sofa underneath his loft bed. Isak's already dragged over a stack of books on which to balance Even's laptop. “Have you picked a movie yet?”

“What's the point, Even? Of me picking a movie when you're not gonna let me watch it anyway.”

“I don't always--”

“Yes, Even, you do. Just pick one, I already pulled up Netflix,” Isak says and carries Even's laptop over from the desk.

Even flops down onto the sofa, stretching his legs out to one side of the pile of books, and reaches out his arms to take the laptop from Isak when he holds it out. He scrolls through the list of recommendations while Isak plugs in the charger so they won't have to scramble for it halfway through the movie.

“You know what we're gonna watch today,” Even suddenly says, fingers flying over the keyboard.

“No,” Isak says, tone fondly exasperated.

“ Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters ,” Even says.

Isak throws himself down onto the sofa next to him and then looks over at him with the most fantastically confused expression.

“What now?”

“It's this absolute trashfest of a movie,” Even explains. “It's so bad it's good, and it was directed by a Norwegian guy, so. Also, Gemma Arterton is super hot. You're gonna love it; trust me.”

“Not like I have a choice,” Isak mumbles, but when Even elbows him in the side he laughs. If Isak really minded watching Even's movie choices he'd probably fight harder to take control of their movie nights. It's not like Isak ever shies away from letting Even know exactly what he thinks.

“It's a fantasy action comedy,” Even says, and presses play before leaning down to pour them each a glass of Fanta.

Isak takes his with his eyes already on the screen and then reaches over to take the bag of popcorn from the floor by Even's legs, pulling it open and shoving his hand inside as he sets it down on the sofa between them. It's all very routine by now, and neither of them even bother apologising when their hands inevitably bump together inside the popcorn bag.

“Yeah, okay,” Isak says when the movie's done, slumping down even further onto the sofa and letting his head loll back against the backrest and then rolling it over so he can lazily grin at Even. “That was amazing. Well done.”

Even beams back.

“See? I told you you'd like it,” he says, and reaches out to poke Isak in the side only to watch the way his entire body flinches from it.

“Assface,” Isak grumbles and scoots a little out of Even's reach.

Even grins and swings his legs up onto the sofa, digging his toes into Isak's thigh. Isak sighs but doesn't react beyond eyeing Even's feet warily. Even debates the merits of trying to tickle Isak with his toes for a moment, but instead only wiggles them underneath Isak's leg, enjoying the warmth there. It's already spring, so it's not that cold anymore, but somehow spring always makes Even feel colder. Like the promise of warmth and sunshine make every spell of cooler weather feel that much worse.

“Hey, Even?” Isak says into the silence, already looking over at him when Even drags his eyes back to Isak from where he'd been staring into the middle distance.

“Hm?”

“Can we smoke your joint?”

“Why?” Even asks.

Isak shrugs a little.

“I wanna know what it's like,” he says.

Even mulls it over for a moment. He'd rolled the last dregs of green he'd still had up the other day, deciding to save it for a special occasion, as his usual dealer got busted by his parents and Even hasn't really wanted to find a new one yet.

“Come on, you shared a cigarette with me when I was thirteen,” Isak prods, like he thinks Even's hesitation is over Isak's age. It probably should be, all things considered, but if it's not to taunt Isak with their two year age gap Even tends to forget it even exists. Isak is just Isak.

Even supposes introducing Isak to weed is a special occasion.

“Just don't tell Sonja or my parents,” Even says, and gets up to grab the joint from where Isak had put it back into Even's desk drawer.

“Why would I even talk to your girlfriend?” Isak mumbles from the sofa, and Even can't help the quick grin that flits over his face.

Sonja and Isak actually get along well. They're both competitive as fuck, for one, so whenever they're both around for the board game night Even and his friends instituted a couple months ago they tend to team up and gloat when they proceed to decimate everyone else. They're both smart too, and Even's caught them having a conversation or two that they were both engrossed in, but he knows Isak gets frustrated with how sometimes he feels that Sonja's patronising him, and Sonja doesn't fully understand why one of Even's closest friends is a kid two years younger than him. So they don't hate each other, but they're not meeting up for coffee either.

“Just making sure,” Even says, and then returns to his place on the sofa, feet tucked under Isak's leg. Isak watches him light up and inhale, and Even watches him back.

“Can you even smoke?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Isak says.

“Since when?”

“I don't do it a lot,” Isak says. “But I can.”

Even hums contemplatively, but holds the joint out to Isak without comment. From the way Isak takes it and doesn't hesitate to inhale, Even supposes he really has learned how to smoke at some point. The thought makes him frown, somehow, even though that's terribly hypocritical.

“But you've never smoked weed before?” Even asks, taking the joint back when Isak holds it out.

Isak shakes his head a bit and then exhales slowly. He looks like he's concentrating on it, but he doesn't choke or cough.

“Never really knew how to go about getting it. Don't really know anyone who's into it,” he says. “Or, well, I thought I didn't.”

He grins at Even and Even grins back, taking another drag.

“Always glad to help out,” Even says, after he's exhaled himself.

“Why didn't you tell me you were doing it?” Isak asks, curious, but no hint of judgement on his face.

Even shrugs. “Dunno. Never came up.”

Isak lifts both eyebrows at him in a look of complete disbelief.

“Since when do you not just make things come up when you want me to know about them,” he teases.

Even grins and shrugs. “Suppose I didn't want you to know about it then.”

Isak fakes a hurt gasp, complete with a hand on his heart. “I can't believe there are things that you want to keep secret from me. That's it. Friendship over.”

Even laughs, and wiggles his toes a little under Isak's thigh, because Isak hasn't even bothered to pretend to get up, and Even delights in pointing it out. Friendship decidedly not over.

“Will this even get us high?” Isak asks when he takes his next drag, studying the blunt contemplatively before he passes it back over to Even, about half of it already burnt away.

“Maybe,” Even says. “It's different for everyone. Like, how much it takes.”

“Hm. So you're saying if I'm a lightweight...”

It's not, actually, but Even laughs and grins. “That's exactly what I'm saying.”

“Thanks,” Isak drawls like he didn't set that one up himself and reaches to take the blunt back when Even holds it out to him.

They smoke the rest of it in comfortable silence, Even's feet toasty warm under Isak's legs and his mind comfortably relaxed.

“I think I can feel it,” Isak says when Even drops the butt of it into the old mug they've been using as an ash tray.

Even hums his agreement and then settles back against the sofa, flopping over sideways against the backrest. He watches the way Isak slouches and tilts his head back against the backrest, eyes closed. Isak's chest moves with his deep, relaxed breaths, one hand falling down to rest on Even's ankle. Even contemplates playing some music, but finds he doesn't want any right now. Just this. The relative quiet of his room, with only the distant traffic noise filtering in through the open window and Isak's occasional sighs.

“I didn't mean to keep it secret from you,” he says then, apropos of nothing.

Isak opens his eyes and turns his head so he can look over at him.

“Yeah, I know,” he says. “It's fine. Also, you're allowed secrets. I don't need to know everything.”

He's smirking a little, making the jibe in it both more and less poignant.

“Yeah, but I don't want to have any secrets from you,” Even says. “Not big ones.”

“What qualifies as a little one then?” Isak asks.

“Like, I don't have to tell you what I have in the cafeteria in school everyday and which jacket I'm wearing.”

“Because it's cheese toasties and the denim one,” Isak teases.

Even rolls his eyes. “I don't always eat cheese toasties.”

“I see you're not even trying to protest the jacket.”

“You know it'd be a lie,” Even says with a lazy grin.

Isak barks a laugh and nods. “Yeah, I do.”

Even watches Isak's grin fade back into a more relaxed, tiny little smile. He kind of wants to pinch Isak's cheek, but he also doesn't want to move.

“Hey, Even?” Isak says, drawing his attention back to his eyes from where Even's been staring at the rosy apple of his cheek.

“Hm?”

“I had waffles in the cafeteria yesterday,” he says and his cheeks plump up even more with a grin.

Even rolls his eyes. “That's great, Isak.”

“And the day before I also had waffles.”

“Riveting,” Even says, and lets his eyes slip shut in the hopes that not seeing Isak's bright grin might make tamping down his own a bit easier. It won't do to make Isak think he's funny.

“But the day before that, I had cheese toasties too,” Isak goes on.

“Amazing.”

“And on Tuesday… I think I had a Wasa sandwich?”

“Fascinating, Isak.”

“On Monday I'm pretty sure I just had an apple.”

“M-hm.”

“And I like boys.”

“Okay,” Even says, and opens his eyes, meeting Isak's. “Yeah, me too.”

Isak studies him for a moment.

“So… Sonja?” he asks then.

“What about Sonja?” Even asks, frowning a little while Isak frowns back until he gets it. “Oh! No, I like girls too. I just kinda like people. I don't think I have a preference either way.”

“Okay,” Isak echoes.

“Is it just boys for you?” Even asks, pushing his feet further under Isak's thigh.

Isak bites his lip and looks away for a second. But then he sighs, and Even only sees the tension in his body when it leaves him and he slumps back against the sofa.

“Yeah, I think so,” he says.

Even hums his acknowledgement and smiles at Isak when their eyes catch again. Isak smiles back.

“Do you think if we kissed now we'd like it better?” Even teases.

Isak rolls his eyes. “I think if we kissed now your girlfriend might have something to say about that.”

Even laughs and wiggles his toes again. “That's not a 'no'.”

“You're an idiot, Even,” Isak says.

“I'm hurt, Isak. Does that mean you're kissing other boys?”

Isak shakes his head. “You're the first person I've told,” he says.

Even nods slowly.

“You're the first person I've told too.”

Isak smiles.

“And I think I had waffles last Tuesday.”

Isak laughs and pats Even's ankle affectionately.

“You're a dork,” he says.

Even only grins and lets them lapse back into silence.

+1. Ages 19 and 17: Blowjobs

Even's not sure if Isak is pulling or if he's pushing, but they only stop walking stumbling their way through Isak's flatshare when Isak's back hits a wall, trapped between it and Even's chest. Isak's arms are bare when they slide up to wrap around Even's neck, having let Even persuade him to go shirt and trouser less underneath his tunic. Isak had protested the trousers more, claimed he didn't want to go out in a glorified skirt, but Even had plied him with kisses and now here they are – a golden wreath on each of their heads and matching tunics. Even dropped his lyre with their coats. He's pretty sure Isak lost his hyacinth somewhere.

“You look so fucking hot tonight, Isak,” Even mumbles into his lips, smudging the words with kisses.

“You think?” Isak asks back, though Even can feel him grin.

“Yeah,” he breathes and kisses Isak again. “Absolutely delectable. Positively ravishing.”

Isak laughs, low in his throat, and tilts his hips forward to meet Even's.

“Is that what you plan on doing? Ravishing me?”

Even groans a little, the soft fabric of their underwear and costumes doing nothing to hide the bulge in either of their pants, making it easy for Even to take half a shuffling step forward and rub their dicks together, slanting their mouths together for another kiss. Isak's breath hitches in the most satisfying way at the sensation and Even sort of forgets the question between the humming arousal in his veins and the way Isak's short fingernails leave shivers in their wake as he scratches them through the hair at the base of Even's neck. It's only when he has to pull back to gulp in a gasping breath that he remembers, and ducks down to seal his mouth to the skin of Isak's neck.

“Yeah,” he says, even though he's not sure Isak knows what he's agreeing with anymore. “Wanna lay you out and get my mouth on all of you.”

Isak makes a very agreeable half-moan, half-sigh and gets both of his hands in Even's hair when Even ducks down even lower, reaching up with a hand to stretch the collar of Isak's tunic away from his collarbones, giving his mouth more skin to kiss and nibble and taste.

“What about taking it slow?” Isak asks, voice only a little wobbly, teasing as though Even was the only one who'd wanted to take things slow when they finally grew the balls to do something about the very obvious romantic elephant in the room with them.

Sure, Even is the one who was fresh out of a relationship - had just broken up with Sonja three weeks prior to Isak and his first kiss, and he'd felt bad for how not-bad he felt about that. As much as Sonja agreed that it was the right thing for them, Even couldn’t quite help the guilt over the change in his feelings for Isak. Even now he’s not sure what came first - falling in love with Isak, or falling out of love with Sonja. But it wasn’t just that which kept him from making a move immediately after, and it wasn’t just him. Isak had been just as scared as him that they were jeopardising their friendship for something that would flare hot and short and then crash and burn, leaving them without each other in the wake of it.

So even when Isak kissed him back after three weeks of the most awkward flirting Even has ever witnessed, Even suggested they take it slow.  And so far, if Even does say so himself, they've been very good about it too. Sure, they got each other naked almost immediately, but so far it's only been their hands that have ventured below the belt, even when they spent practically every free minute attached at the lips.

It's just that tonight Isak looks like fucking art, with the golden wreath tucked into his messy curls and the tunic showing off the gentle definition in his arms and legs. It's not Even's fault that his costume idea worked a little too well and now Even's a little too worked up. Between the heat of the party, the bass thrumming in the air and the laugh permanently etched onto Isak's face, Even doesn't think he can be blamed for being so affected.

He groans and presses his face into Isak's chest, winding both arms around his waist to hold him close. Isak's body vibrates with quiet laughter against his.

“Fuck slow, it was a stupid idea,” Even says, voice muffled by Isak's body. “Snails are going faster than us.”

Isak laughs some more and then tugs Even up by the hair to kiss again. Even's wreath falls to the floor with a metallic clatter.

“You're gonna make me think you just want to suck me off that badly,” Isak mumbles, paying it no mind.

“I do want to suck you off that badly,” Even says. “I want to do everything with you.”

Isak kisses him again and then pulls back far enough to lock their eyes.

“I want that too,” he says.

“Just not yet?” Even asks, hands slipping down over Isak's back to grab at his ass.

“No, definitely yet,” Isak says, but before Even can even think about going to his knees, he leans in for another kiss. It's sloppy, full of too-open mouths and eager tongues, both of them laughing when their noses bump together a little too hard. Even tugs Isak's tunic up, the wreath tumbling to the floor with it. Even kisses his way down Isak's chest quickly, takes Isak's underwear with him when he goes to his knees and mouths at the base of Isak's dick while Isak's still stepping out of his underwear.

“Fuck, Even,” Isak hisses, steadying himself with a hand on Even's shoulder.

“I've never done this, so--” Even starts, but Isak's already nodding.

“Just keep your teeth out of the way. Don't go too fast,” he says. “Use your hands too, it'll be easier like that.”

Even licks his lips and nods, presses a kiss to the top of Isak's thigh and then carefully takes the tip of Isak's dick into his mouth, hyper-conscious of his teeth. Isak's skin is soft and warm, the tip of his dick already a little wet and Even makes a soft noise as the taste of it spreads over his tongue. Isak moans in reply, fingers squeezing at Even's shoulder.

Faced with the reality of it like this Even can't quite say what it is that he was expecting, but he knows that this is somehow better than that. It feels good to hold Isak in his mouth like this, to push forward, feel the drag of his skin against his lips, the way it makes swallowing the spit gathering in his mouth just a little harder. Still, it's not as daunting as he'd feared, doesn't seem as impossible to do this long enough for Isak to feel good, so Even pushes further, snakes his tongue along Isak's dick. He wraps a hand around the base of him to get a sense of how much he's already taken but misjudges, surprised by the intensity of his own reaction when he takes too much and instinctively pulls off Isak's dick entirely to cough into his hand before he's even thought about it.

“Sorry,” he says between coughs, cheeks flaming red as he peeks up at Isak.

Isak's biting his lip like he's trying not to smile too big, but he's shaking his head and then leaning down so he can kiss Even's mouth.

“It's fine,” he says. “Just go at your own pace.”

That might actually be Even's problem.

“Or maybe a bit slower than your pace,” Isak amends, grinning now.

Even pinches the skin at the top of Isak's thigh where he's bracing himself with a hand in retaliation. Just because Isak knows him that well doesn't mean he gets to call Even out like that. But when Even leans in again, he goes slower, tries to stay mindful of the limitations of his own body. It's just hard when Even wants to throw himself full throttle into everything he can do with Isak.

He manages to find a rhythm after a while, bobs his head and works his hand both, needing the other one to steady himself. But Isak's looking down at him with flushed cheeks and glassy eyes, fingers tight on Even's shoulders when Even flicks his eyes up at him, clearly enjoying himself, so Even supposes he must be doing something right.

“Feels good, baby,” Isak whispers.

Even preens at the sound of the petname. He never expected to like hearing it from Isak as much as he does, but from the very first time it slipped from his lips and Isak had turned wide eyes on Even like he wasn’t sure that was something he was allowed to call Even, he loved how intimate it feels.

One if Isak’s hands leaves Even's shoulder to trace the hollow in his cheek then. Even feels his dick jump a bit at the gesture and the heat in Isak’s eyes as he traces the movement of his fingers, suddenly maddeningly reminded of how turned on he is himself, and closes his eyes to concentrate on getting Isak off. He pulls back a bit to try and tickle his tongue underneath the tip of Isak's dick because that's something he knows Isak likes. Plus, swallowing around Isak's dick is easier like that and he's less likely to drool out of the corners of his mouth.

Isak moans, and Even tries to tamp down the triumphant grin at the sound, going to alternate bobs of his head and flicks of his tongue.

“That's nice,” Isak sighs, and maybe 'nice' isn't exactly what Even's going for, but so long as Isak's still into this, it's alright.

It takes longer than Even thought it would, in the end, until Isak's voice goes tight and he tells Even he's about to come. Even's had to pull back to take in gasping breaths a time or two, but he's determined to see this through and closes his lips back around Isak's cock.

Isak grunts a little, his thigh shaky underneath Even's hand.

“You sure?” he gasps. “Even, baby, I'm gonna--”

Even hums, unwilling to pull off and instead flicks his eyes back up, Isak pulling his fringe out of his face, fingers staying curled into Even's hair as the first spurt of his come makes Even flinch just a little bit in surprise. It feels almost surprisingly cool in his mouth - “Did you know the testicles are outside the human body because sperm can't survive long at body temperature?” - and Even watches Isak's eyes go hazy with pleasure, a little proud he hadn't choked or anything. He remembers to jerk Isak through his orgasm after a moment and when Isak pushes him off gently and then sinks to his knees to kiss him, he feels quite accomplished.

“I liked that,” he mumbles when the kiss loses a bit of intensity, nuzzling Isak's face with his own and feeling the way Isak's smile shifts his cheeks.

“Yeah? I liked it too,” he says.

Isak kisses him again and then pulls back a bit, watching the way Even gasps and his whole body jumps at the sensation of Isak pushing his hand into Even's underwear to curl his fingers around Even's dick.

“My turn now?” Isak asks, grinning that smirky little smile of his.

“Gonna show me how it's done properly?” Even teases, though as Isak's grin widens, his cheeks flush and something in his belly tightens. He'd done alright, right?

Something must show on his face, because Isak's brow furrows a little and he leans in for another kiss, his hands coming up to cup Even's face gently.

“You did it properly. Used your mouth and all,” he jokes, and Even can't help but smile. “Everything else is practice.”

“So how close to perfect has practice made you?” Even teases, stealing another kiss from Isak's lips before he can answer.

“Get on the bed and I'll show you,” Isak says, sending Even scrambling to his feet. He kicks his boxer briefs off as he falls back onto Isak's messy bed, the duvet rumpled and only haphazardly spread out. Even spreads out just as haphazardly, more focused on watching Isak climb onto the bed as well, on his hands and knees and looking at Even like he's planning all the things he wants to do to him.

Isak runs his hands up Even's thighs and then pushes them apart, makes a space for himself to settle into. Heat curls in Even's belly at the feeling of Isak's hand pressing his leg up and to the side by the back of his knee and his toes curl inside his socks, because he never took off his fucking socks. He almost wants to laugh at the absurdity of that but then Isak leans over and mouths along the crease between his thigh and his pelvis, just a brush of his teeth tickling the sensitive skin there, and Even finds himself clutching the duvet cover instead, a soft noise falling from his lips. Isak lets go of Even's leg and Even shifts so he can set his foot down on the bed, not wanting to have to hold it up himself. Isak's mouth is soft and gentle on his skin, but never hesitant in its exploration.

The sucks the beginnings of a bruise into the skin stretched over Even's hipbone, his fingers teasing along the soft inside of Even's thigh when he kisses his way back down over Even's abdomen. Even keeps himself up on his elbows so he can watch when Isak catches his eye as he wraps his hand around the base of Even's dick. Every muscle in Even's body pulls tight in anticipation when Isak licks his lips. The way Isak blows a hot breath over the wet tip of his dick instead of diving right in like Even expected makes him shiver and let out a little involuntary whine, face going hot with a blush.

Isak's face lights up with a quick grin and then he ducks down to press the flat of his tongue against Even's balls. Even sucks in a surprised breath and finds himself spreading his legs wider without thought, giving Isak more room. The broad, wet licks of Isak's tongue settle a warm sort of glow in Even's belly. A comfortable pleasure that makes him want to lean back and settle in for the long haul. Even when Isak starts pointing his tongue occasionally and gently sucks Even's balls into his mouth it just feels… good. Not the holy-shit-I'm-going-to-come-right-now kind of good, but a languid sort of good that has Even's breathing going steadily heavier but doesn't overwhelm him.

“Fuck, that's nice,” Even groans, and he's pretty sure he hears Isak chuckle a little in response, but before he can say anything about it, Isak changes it up, licks long wet stripes up Even's cock and gives Even no warning at all before he slides his fist and mouth down over it until his fingers are wrapped firmly around the base of Even's dick.

Even's entire body goes tense with the pleasure of it, his jaw pulled down on a silent scream until Isak starts bobbing his head and twisting his hand up and down and Even moans, a sound pulled right from the depth of his chest while his fingers twist into the sheets and then scrabble for his own skin just to find a sensation to centre him.

“Oh fuck, oh my god, Isak,” Even hears himself babble, all nerve-endings seemingly snapping into high alert, pleasure mounting so fast it makes him a little light-headed. He wildly thinks of how lazy everything felt just a moment ago and now--

And now Isak pulls back a little, his tongue does what Even tried to do earlier, pressing into the dip of Even's dick and that place right underneath the head, rubbing back and forth between them. The tension snaps and Even bounces a bit as his back falls flat back down onto the sheets.

“Fuck, Isak,” he moans.

Isak moans back, the vibrations of it dancing over Even's skin. Dimly, Even thinks Isak's probably showing off a little, spurred on by Even's teasing, but most of Even's brain space is occupied by white hot pleasure.

Isak pulls off Even's cock entirely then, licks at it like he’s savouring the taste, giving Even a moment to catch his breath and push back up onto his elbows for a better view of the small smile on Isak's face. His lips are already a bit red and definitely spit-slick, some of it even making his chin shine in a way that Even feels like he should maybe not be so incredibly into. He makes a tiny mental note not to worry about being messy next time, and then watches Isak slowly suck his cock back into his mouth, the way he tilts his head and lets the tip of Even's dick bulge his cheek just because he definitely knows how fucking obscene it looks.

“Fucking hell,” Even groans, and reaches one hand out automatically, hesitating only for a moment before he runs his fingers lightly over Isak's cheek, feels the pressure of his dick pushing against it from it inside. It doesn't even feel as good as what Isak did before, but the image he makes with his bright glassy eyes and his flushed cheeks and his pink lips throws oil on the flames in Even's belly anyway.

“Shit, you look so good like this,” Even whispers, probably a little bit too much awe in his tone considering the circumstance, but he can't help himself.

Isak lets his dick slip out of his mouth then, smiles a little and slides his lips down the side of the shaft, letting the tip smear a wet trail across his cheek. Even stares for a moment and then huffs a breathless laugh.

“Show-off,” he mumbles, making Isak give his own breathless laugh in answer before he presses a few kisses to the skin of Even's abdomen.

“Enjoying yourself?” Isak mumbles, running a hand along Even's thigh.

Even kind of wants to make a joke of it, tell Isak he's bored or something, but he just nods mindlessly, transfixed by the way Isak's moving his mouth down to Even's dick again.

When Isak slides his mouth and hand back down over Even's dick, he knows he won't last much longer. He vaguely wishes he would, that this would go on for far longer than he knows it's going to, but at the same time the crackling in his veins builds to a blinding crescendo, and when he finally comes in Isak's mouth he swears he can feel it in every cell of his body. He feels his back bow and hears himself moan as though the noise came from someone else. For a moment he loses track of his hands, and then he feels them pulling at his own hair, easing his way back down from the high.

“Come kiss me,” he says, heart still beating heavily in his chest, breathing fast and shallow.

Isak's there almost immediately, grinning smugly as he hovers above him. Even doesn't care to say anything about that, just wraps his arms around Isak's neck and pulls him down into a kiss. They're both sweaty, and Even shivers when Isak's knee nudges his still sensitive dick as he shifts his weight.

“You've got to teach me how to do that,” he mumbles in between kisses, and feels Isak grin into the next one.

“You'll have to practice lots,” he teases, making Even laugh.

“How will you ever put up with that?” he teases back.

Isak grins and rolls his hips down into Even's, causing another shiver.

“I think I'll manage.”

“You're so good to me,” Even says, only half teasing.

Isak hums and kisses him again and then rolls them over so they're lying on their sides facing each other.

“It's because I like you so much,” he whispers, like it's a secret, and even though Even knows that mischievous spark in Isak's eyes, he also knows that Isak does like him a whole lot.

“Me too,” he says, lifting a hand to run it through the hair curling by Isak's ear. “I like you so much too.”

Isak shifts closer and meets him in a decidedly sweeter kiss.

“Not too fast?” Even asks when they pull apart again, a tiny spark of worry nagging at him.

Isak shakes his head and gives Even another kiss.

“No,” he says. “I think we're just right.”