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At first Jared thought they were fighting. They were catching their breath, all three of them, after outrunning the department store security guards when Matt instinctively went in for a clumsy, celebratory hug. But he paused, Jared watched him hold himself back. Matt’s hands hovered poised in the air a moment before retreating back to his sides. Jay, bent over wheezing the whole time, seemed none the wiser. Jared noted the awkwardness and wondered if he’d missed some sort of explosive tiff the evening prior. They’d sent him home earlier than usual. Truthfully, an early evening was becoming more and more usual. Not that Jared was complaining. The guys seemed tired lately, is all. Maybe that should concern him.
It was the first time that day that Jared had noticed any tension between the pair. The two were rarely capable of hiding acrimony when they were on the outs. But no one had been particularly prickly today, up until the aborted hug. Matt had been making breakfast when Jared got to the house. He’d seemed downright sweet, plating two servings of toast and scrambled eggs and whisking them over to the coffee table where Jay sat still wearing his pajamas and a sunny smile. Matt was in such a good mood that he even apologized for not making any for Jared. He’d had a bagel on the way, it was fine.
Maybe they hadn’t fought, but Jay had, probably inadvertently, said something that hurt Matt’s feelings. He wasn’t very careful with him, Jared sometimes thought. Matt wasn’t just explosive, he was sensitive. Like a bomb or a toddler or a Prince Rupert's drop of glass. Jay never seemed to weigh that when he spouted off just anything on his mind. Maybe that was because no matter how upset Matt could get, Jay knew his words could never threaten Matt’s attachment to him.
Sometimes Jay hit below the belt without meaning to. Matt would toe just beyond the line of acceptable affection, ruffle his hair too long or call him sweet, and Jay would get embarrassed, probably assume Matt was making fun of him, and lash out with harsh words. Jared watched it all play out candidly through his view finder every time. For two people who always seemed to just get eachother, he didn’t understand why they never could get on the same page when Matt was being nice.
Jared spent the rest of the day half on edge, waiting to see if any other fallout from an off camera argument would rear its head, but none did. In fact, they seemed very in sync today. As they rehearsed, Jay spent so much of the practice spun 180 degrees from the piano to watch Matt bounce around the living room that he ended up improvising sweet, minimalistic melodies to play with just his left hand.
Jared didn’t give the incident much thought until about a week later, when he entered the living room and the two jumped apart on the couch when they noticed his presence. They hadn’t even been sitting close, Jay’d had his feet kicked up on the coffee table and Matt had been sitting cross legged with his knee barely grazing Jay’s thigh, but they’d startled and scootched apart from that completely normal distance to the edges of the sofa like Jared had caught them with their hands down eachother’s pants. Jared became suddenly worried that could be a possibility.
After that, he kept noticing things. Little incidents and observations piled up. He noticed that Matt seemed to be avoiding touching Jay, at least in front of the camera, but he was looking at him more. Usually it was just Jay that Jared captured staring at the other in awe, but Matt was doing more of that now. He noticed Jay trying and failing to make Matt a smoothie with his gross protein yogurt (he forgot to put the lid on the blender). He noticed that there are new sheets on the bottom bunk much more frequently than the top.
The empty bottle of lube in the kitchen trash can was what made things slot into place in Jared’s mind. It’s not like Jared had never wondered whether there might be some physical something simmering under the surface between Matt and Jay, but it had been a long time since he’d considered the matter. Back when they were in that apartment, young and tempestuous, the spector of intimacy had sometimes loomed like a powder keg, a third rail. Back then, they fought with fists more than words and Matt became a raw nerve anytime Jay brought a girl around. That had made Jared wonder. But, over the years, all that tension seemed to dissipate. After they moved into the house, Matt stopped acting like a spurned wife all the time. Now that Jared was really thinking about it, it was most likely because the girls stopped coming around.
The presence of lube didn’t necessarily prove that they were having sex with eachother, in fact it didn’t even prove that either was having sex at all. For all Jared knew, it was for masturbation or, and this was just as likely, a plan that involved making something slippery. Maybe a slip and fall financial compensation plan. Even so, the empty plastic bottle shocked Jared. Not that he thought about it, but he’d sort of just assumed they’d been living like monks in their bunk beds these past few years. This felt like evidence that the guys hadn’t totally forgotten about sex, as a concept at least. And, beyond that, it was in the kitchen. That had to mean something.
He wasn’t intending on saying anything. If they weren’t going to tell him, it was because they didn’t want to. He could respect that, however annoying it was. Like anyone would care. As if anyone would even be surprised. The thought niggled in his mind, though, when Matt and Jay got to complaining about the doe eyed couples who’d kept approaching them during a recent piano bar plan.
Jay hadn’t knocked out the regular piano player and stolen his clothes or anything, he’d just worn a suit and shown up a few hours before the lights at the fancy restaurant went dim for dinner. The idea was to test run their intro and announce to the dining room that they could catch the rest of the act that night at The Rivoli. But before Matt could even launch into his spiel, soggy middle aged couples on their biannual date nights kept approaching to request their cheesy, personal love songs.
Back in the house, Matt was doing a rather mean impression of them. Jay was banging out Love Will Keep Us Together on the piano, which he had stubbornly refused to do in the restaurant before they got found out and kicked out.
“Oh please, piano man, won’t you play Captain & Tennille? It’s our song.”
“Do you two have a song?”
The question slipped out before he could think it through. Jared rarely prompted them with questions. His documentary style was more observational, fly on the wall. But the wondering was kind of killing him for some reason. He supposed he was nosey. He’d been party to everything these two did for so long, it almost offended him that they thought they could keep it a secret when they started hooking up.
A hesitant glance passed between Matt and Jay. Matt looked wary, Jay less so. Jared expected them to play it off, treat it like Jared was teasing them. Instead, Jay shot Matt a tiny smile, barely a quirk of the corner of his mouth, but Matt caught it and visibly relaxed. Jay turned to the camera confidently to answer.
“We make up a new one everyday!”
For a second, it felt like a watershed moment, like everyone would start explaining themselves at once. Instead, nothing happened besides a shy, evaluating look Matt threw to the camera before launching back into his narration. Later, after rehearsal petered into Jay playing the piano to Matt’s muted video game, Jared wondered if he’d imagined the whole thing, conjured up a secret affair out of coincidence.
Matt lost the Mariocart race and threw the controller onto the carpet in anguish, but rallied quickly. He announced to the room that they should watch a movie instead. Matt asked if Jared wanted popcorn then, as a pit stop on the way to the kitchen, told Jay to pick something from the DVDs they got at the library on Saturday and pressed a chaste kiss to his temple like it was nothing. Jared barely caught it on camera, not anticipating that he’d need to swoop the camera down when Matt unexpectedly bent to press his lips to the side of Jay’s head where he sat on the piano bench. But there was the evidence, every detail recorded in high definition: the practiced way Matt’s hand cupped the back of Jay’s head as he leaned in for the peck to his hairline, the pliant way Jay craned his neck to accept the display of affection, the casual way Matt’s eyes didn’t even close for the brief kiss, the familiar way Jay’s hand rose for just a second to grace Matt’s hip as he leaned in.
Okay, so they were in love. It’s not like Jared hadn’t known that already.