Julian had been home for half an hour, and yet Zac hadn't seen him. The door had opened, and closed, silently. Maxim had heard. The dog rushed from the kitchen, where he'd been laying while Zac was working on the sink pipes.

While Julian's footsteps were silent, Maxim's were loud–prancing across the hardwood floor as he followed Julian.

Zac could imagine it easily: Julian stopped by the door. Set his bag down. Pet Maxim with both hands. Tried to slip out to the garage to take the stairs up to his bedroom. Maxim had followed. Made him stop several times for pets.

Then, it was quiet.

Maxim didn't come back to Zac, which meant that Julian was more interesting than the possibility of snacks.

Fifteen minutes later, Julian flitted into the kitchen. Then, out.

Two minutes later, again.

A minute later, again.

Zac didn't look up. He lay flat on his back as he worked on the pipe. Everything had been cleared from under the sink and was stacked neatly around him.

This was supposed to be a quick job, but half of the pipes had a weird, bubbly texture. He was only supposed to be tightening a few things. Instead, he was replacing every defective piece now so he didn't come home to burst pipes.

This 'quick job' was going to take him twenty minutes more. And Julian had just darted in and out of the room again, dousing it in another wave of anxious energy.

Zac sighed, resigned. He lay down his tools. Flat on his back, he stared up at the bottom of the sink. Then, without looking, he reached for his toolbox–and flipped it.

Screws and nuts and bolts, once all carefully organized by size, now mixed together.

A small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things.

He gave it a few seconds and then called, "Jules, are you home? Can you come help me?"

Julian was there immediately. "Are you okay?" he asked from the doorway. Zac didn't hear him rush in, but he saw Julian's shoes in his peripheral.

"Yeah, I'm good. I knocked over my toolbox. Are you busy? I don't want Maxim to eat any but I've gotta finish getting these pipes fixed."

"I can help," Julian said quickly, insistently. He crouched down, rapidly scooping the loose hardware into a pile.

Maxim trotted into the room a minute later, tail wagging. He watched with great interest.

He wasn't the least bit interested in eating anything, though he wouldn't have minded if someone decided to make him a snack.

"Thanks," Zac said, and wriggled a little deeper under the sink while he got back to work.

Predictably, Julian did not say 'you're welcome,' but he did make a small noise of acknowledgement.

They worked in silence for a minute. Maxim sat down by Julian, but Zac could tell that Julian was guarding the hardware, just in case. Several metallic plinks later, Zac knew Julian was already diligently sorting them back in place.

Julian was not particularly knowledgeable in such things, but Zac had come to understand he had a good eye for puzzles. And it helped that Soleiyu had–without prompting–made custom labels for each tray.

Zac counted to sixty, then asked, "You getting excited for winter break?"

"Um," Julian dropped a few more screws into the tray, "Yeah, I think so."

"Only a 'yeah'? I thought you'd be glad to take a break from school."

"Um, yes, I mean."

Half honest, half distracted.

Zac waited a moment, and when Julian didn't offer more, he asked, "Are you having that much fun at school?"

"Sometimes. Um, not right now."

Julian's words had been soft, a little uncertain. Zac knew how much he'd been studying so supposed that had something to do with it. Finals this week, vacation next week. He'd hardly seen Julian at all lately; he was either upstairs studying, or disappearing out of the house for a few hours. Normal for a teenager. Normal for a Knight, too.

"How many more tests do you have to take this week?"

"Um." Julian exhaled. "Too many."

Zac laughed, not loud. He hadn't heard the metallic clinking of any hardware being sorted. "You take your tests much more seriously than I ever did. I don't think I even studied for half of them."

A long pause, and then Julian asked timidly, "How did you get good grades if you didn't study?"

"Oh, I didn't say I got good grades." Zac half curled, just enough to see Julian, who was sitting with his legs folded under him, palms resting flat on the floor while he looked at the pile of spilled metal. He wasn't sorting any of it right now, just looking at them with a grim determination. His shoulders were drawn tight and his head bowed low.

Zac eased himself backwards so he was lying flat again. He needed to get a different tool, but doing so would have required getting up and grabbing it from the garage. He pretended to tighten a bolt. "Usually, I just did what I remembered and guessed the rest. Or I cheated."

"Oh," Julian said, with more disbelief than understanding. He couldn't tell if Zac was teasing.

"Why?" Zac asked, because when Julian said something vague it was usually because he was skirting around something else, first. "Are you getting anxious about your tests?"

"Um, yes," Julian said. His hand moved slowly, sorting a few same-sized screws to the side of the pile. "Actually, um. I wanted to..." His voice softened, and even when Zac strained, he couldn't hear the rest of it. Julian stopped sorting, too.

Silence fell between them. Zac ran the side of the wrench up and down one of the pipes so it sounded like he wasn't just laying there, waiting.

"I need..." Julian's voice trailed off. He tried again, "If you could, um. If it's not too much trouble, can you please..." His voice was almost too soft to hear. Zac strained, just enough to make out Julian finishing, "...sign something."

Zac kept moving the wrench. His hands were tingling from holding his arms up in this position for so long. "Yeah, sure. What is it?"

Like ripping off a bandaid, Julian quickly mumbled, "I got a bad grade on one of my tests. I need a signature. I don't want to worry Talia."

"Oh. Yeah, that's fine. Which test was it?"

"Science. Um, I studied, but..."

"Can you pass me the flashlight?" Zac held out an open palm under the open cabinet door that served as a shield between himself and Julian. Cold metal pressed into his hand immediately. "Thanks. So you studied. Was this one of your finals?"

"No–no, it was last week. But I just got it back today."

"Have you taken your science final yet?"

"No."

"You worrying about it?"

"I can study more."

Zac finally lowered the wrench and let his arm rest. He propped the flashlight against his side and shined it into the corners of the cabinet. "What happened with the last test?"

"Um. Well, I just–I think I didn't sleep well the night before. I thought I was okay. I thought I was ready for it. But then the test started and I sort of–well, I just blanked. Some of the questions didn't make sense. I got confused. I think I just misread them. And I lost track of time."

It wasn't the first time he'd heard Julian describe test taking like this, but Zac's eyes narrowed a little as he stared at the unimpressive, boring underside of the sink. He kept his tone calm, friendly even. Julian was sensitive to words, and even more sensitive to how you said them. "Did they give you your full time? I thought your 504 was supposed to help you when you're taking a test."

Silence, then. Julian didn't even try to say 'um' to fill the space.

He wouldn't have had to anyway. "You're not using it," he deduced. "Why not?"

"Well, um–I just thought I could do it. I didn't want to bother anyone. And it's–I don't..." Julian drew in a deep breath but the voice that followed was instilled with none of that energy. "I don't want people to think I'm cheating. Um, no offense. I just. I really thought I'd be able to do it. I tried really hard. And everyone was so stressed. I didn't want to ask for anyone to have to work harder for me. I'm sorry."

Always an apology. Always worrying about bothering someone. Always thinking it was an inconvenience. Zac tilted his head back. The wooden floor wasn't comfortable and his back was already sore.

Maxim had laid down, cheek pressed against Julian's thigh while he watched Zac from under the cabinet door.

Julian probably wouldn't have said as much if they'd been face to face.

"It's okay. s**t happens. What did you get on the test?"

The anxious energy hadn't yet shifted, but the room didn't feel so heavy. Julian took a few seconds to mumble, "Sixty-seven."

"Oh, that's not bad. I mean, for toughing it out when you weren't feeling well? Good job. Will your teacher let you do make up work?"

"I don't know. I haven't asked."

"Do you want to do make up work?"

Julian took a moment to answer. He hadn't made an effort to sort anything for a few seconds, but he had returned to plucking things out of the pile one at a time to silently organize them. "I do. I don't want my teacher to think I wasn't paying attention. He's a good teacher, it's not his fault. I just messed up on the test. I really want him to know that I do understand. I wasn't trying to be a bad student. I just, um. It was just a bad day."

Zac bumped his elbow and wriggled slightly where he lay. He wasn't working but Julian didn't have to know that. He made himself as comfortable as possible without moving too much. "Everyone has bad days. You have the test with you? I'll sign it as soon as I finish getting this fixed up."

An audible sigh of relief passed from Julian's lips, drowned out quickly by the sound of Maxim's wagging tail. "Thank you, Zac."

"Yeah, no trouble. I can email your teacher to ask if you can have some extra homework or something. You think he'd let you retake the test?"

The toolbox rattled when Julian moved a handful of sorted bolts into their labeled tray. "Um–I mean, he might. But I feel really bad because it just means he'll have to do more work to grade things."

"What? Teachers love grading papers. It's fun for them."

Julian laughed, a soft, nervous little sound. "Oh," he said, which Zac knew was his very polite way of saying 'I don't think so'. Zac almost laughed, too.

Another handful of screws was sorted back into the toolbox.

"I'll ask if he's got some extra work to give you. You're a pretty intense student, Julian. I never met a kid who wanted to do more work. Chores, too. You and Riker are always so busy around here. I used to get in trouble for slacking. Evan used to come over and do my chores for me, sometimes."

"Did he?" Julian asked. Another handful went into the toolbox.

"Oh, yeah. All the time. You know he's been cooking dinner for me since high school, yeah? I didn't appreciate it as much back then as I did now. I used to think he was kind of annoying. Pretty dumb of me. But, you know. Being a kid is about making mistakes and learning from them. And we worked out fine, anyway. He'll be pissed if I don't finish this before dinner, though. He's not going to want to cook with me laying on the floor." Zac snorted, like he thought this was more amusing than annoying.

"Can I help with anything?"

"Maybe. You're already helping me a lot by cleaning up that mess. Sorry, I wasn't paying attention when I knocked it. I'm glad you were here to help out."

"Oh, it's not any trouble. Thank you for letting me," Julian said brightly. Two handfuls went into the toolbox.

"You sure you're not just saying that because I said I'd sign your test?"

"Um, no. I really do like it. But thank you for that, too."

"Yeah, well. Anytime. You want to talk about the test or are you good?"

"I'm good," Julian promised. Two more handfuls into the toolbox. "I'm going to go over the stuff I messed up on while I'm studying. I don't want to mess up on the final."

"Solid plan, I like it. And if you get stuck on any other tests, don't stress out about it, okay? It's just a test. I don't even know why they quiz you on half that s**t. I don't use most of what I learned in school. Evan doesn't, either. I'm not even sure why they want to get a signature. You're more honest than I am. Anytime I needed a signature, I just forged it. My parents didn't know half the trouble I got into. Bad grades, skipping classes, detention."

"Oh," Julian said, with a hint of worry. "But what if you got caught?"

Zac had no regrets, and laughed. "I guess I'd have gotten grounded. My parents are good people. A little overbearing. But they always wanted the best for me and Mal. They did that whole 'gentle parenting' thing before it got popular. I got away with a lot. I don't know if it worked for me. Or Mal, even. I think he turned out better than me. But then, he is still living in the attic, so." Zac almost laughed, too used to teasing his brother. Except, it took all of a second to realize what he'd actually said, so he stalled. Bit his cheek. Rolled his eyes at himself.

Julian's sorting had slowed, so Zac tried to salvage the conversation by saying, "I'm glad he's there. I like that he gets to be so close to them all the time. They look out for each other."

It took Julian a few seconds to move again, like he'd judged the answer and deemed it safe. For almost a full moment, he focused on sorting things. Then, he asked, "Do you still talk to your parents?"

"Sometimes. I mean, kind of. Not really. They don't know who I am anymore so it makes it hard."

This time, the silence was not reluctance. It was a question Julian didn't know how to ask.

Zac knew how to answer.

"After I left behind my old life, I guess it messed some things up. There's a lot that I don't remember. A lot that I do." Sometimes he still had flashes of his time in the Negaverse–brief, and sudden, and horrifying. He wasn't sure if they were memories or just his mind filling in the blanks. Or maybe it was just a guilty conscience. "They wouldn't recognize me if I was standing in front of them. They think I'm out traveling and that's why I haven't been home in years. I've only called a few times. I don't sound like me to them anymore, so I always say I'm sick. Talia..."

Zac exhaled. "...Back when she was still Cambria, she used to cover for me. My parents loved her." But she hadn't been Cambria for a long time. Talia didn't remember them. Maybe she knew them in passing now, as one of Malcolm's friends. But it wasn't the same.

Julian nodded. Even if Zac didn't see it, he knew Julian, and all his little habits. He was probably chewing on the inside of his cheek, sorting the thoughts in his mind like he sorted the hardware on the floor.

"Do you write to them?" Julian asked quietly, a little hopefully.

"Sometimes, yeah. I had to change my handwriting, though. I didn't want the wrong person to intercept a letter and figure out it was me sending it. I had to give up a lot to make sure they were safe." Zac didn't say it hurt, but it did. He didn't say he deserved that hurt, but he thought it. He and Julian didn't talk about his time in the Negaverse often. Not at all, really. They didn't talk about what it was like to leave the Negaverse behind. What it cost him to 'fix' things.

"That sounds really hard," Julian suggested gently. Not with pity. Just kindness.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Do you miss them?"

"...Yeah, I do. A lot. But I'd rather miss them than put them in danger. I'd rather they miss me than get hurt because of me."

Julian thought about this for a while. Zac did, too. While Julian sorted the toolbox, Zac just stared up at the sink, fingers laced over his stomach.

"What do you do when you miss them?"

Zac knew there was more to the question than Julian was asking but he couldn't even guess what lay below the surface. "I guess I think about them. I wonder what they're doing. I call Malcolm for updates. He covers for me, too. I guess, sometimes I think about what things would be like if it were different. If I hadn't messed up. Like, if I could just tell them 'Actually, I live fifteen minutes away. I've been in town this whole time.' All the holidays we could have spent together. Even now, it's weird. My birthday's coming up. It's been years, but I still expect one of those tacky novelty cards. The ones that hum 'Happy Birthday'? My parents love those."

Julian nodded understandingly. Zac couldn't see it, but he imagined it. "I'm sorry. That sounds really hard."

"Yeah, I guess." He'd done it to himself. He told himself that every time he missed something from his old life. "It was a stupid birthday ritual. We had a few. Like, I used to get to rent a video for my birthday and we'd watch that. For a while, it was just me and my parents. Then Malcolm was born. There's a five-ish year gap between us, so I was seven, I think, by the time he was old enough to sit still and watch a movie with me. I remember, there was this movie I was so excited to see. Can't even remember the name now. But I remember going to pick it out, getting snacks. Mal–he's always been clingy. He was all up in my space, he wanted to watch it with me. Mom let us stay up. He fell asleep on me. I was so mad, his head was in my way and I couldn't finish the movie. Of course, his birthday was a few months later, and he picked out the same movie. Then it was my birthday, and I don't really remember how it happened, but we got that movie again. And then he got it again."

Julian was still sorting, but he was working quietly so he could listen.

"We got it every birthday, for years. Until the local Blockbuster went out of business. You know, I haven't thought about it until now. Wish I could remember what the hell that movie was. It wasn't good, I'll tell you that," Zac scoffed. "Me and Mal grew apart sometime around then, though. Not his fault. I was a d**k. He was annoying, but. You know. Little brothers." Or, maybe Julian didn't know. He had Riker, who was like a brother, but neither of them exactly fit the bill for 'little brother'. Zac didn't dwell on it. If he thought too deeply, he'd remember what Malcolm looked like in the hospital after Zac attacked him.

Or, Sanidine, but. Back then they were one in the same.

Zac liked to think his mind was significantly less Chaos-addled these days. It wasn't any easier to think about how close his brother had come to dying–because of him.

"That sounds like it was a nice ritual," Julian said, drawing Zac back to the present. Then, quieter, "Do you miss it?”


“Sometimes,” Zac answered, and when he pondered for a few seconds longer, he corrected, “Yeah. I do.” In a confession more vulnerable than he wanted to make, and said more for Julian’s sake than his own, he added, “I took a lot of those things for granted. But I guess you can’t miss something before you’ve lost it.”

“I'm sorry you two grew apart."

"Yeah, me too." Zac didn't dwell on how hard he'd made Malcolm's life back then. He didn't want to encourage Julian to dabble in rumination and self-hatred. "But we're a little better now. He's coming over for my birthday, don't be surprised when he shows up. I already told him you and Riker were studying for finals, so you've got an out if you're not feeling social."

"Oh, okay. I can say hi," Julian suggested, which was a bit braver of him than Zac was used to. He paused to make sure he'd heard right.

"Yeah? He'd like that. He asks about you two sometimes."

"Oh, um. Can I ask...what he asks?"

Zac drummed his fingers on his stomach while he lay there. "Oh, you know. Worried he's being a 'bad uncle'. Don't worry, it's not serious."

"Oh, okay," Julian said, even if he didn't really get it.

"He wants to know what to get you for Christmas," Zac clarified. "You and Riker."

"I don't need anything," Julian insisted, predictably.

"Yeah, I know. I told him you'd say that."

Julian seemed relieved. He hadn't even stopped sorting.

"I asked him to pick out a few books to share. He's got a big collection back at my parent's house. But we've always had a wall of books somewhere." Now it was a few walls. "He's been trying to get me to read more, but I figured, you know, 'Julian's been going to the library a lot, he likes to read. Maybe that'll distract Malcolm for a while.'"

Julian moved the pile of remaining hardware closer. After a moment he asked, "Did it?"

Zac laughed. "Yeah, actually. He got excited about it. So when you get some books, act surprised. If he asks you what you think about them later, you can be honest, too. You know, he's wanted to do a book club or something for a while. If you ever want to talk about books, you should ask him."

"Okay," Julian said, but sounded more thoughtful than usual.

"Are books okay? It was either that or backpacks."

Julian dropped whatever he'd been holding and quickly scrambled to pick it up. Zac didn't see him, only the shadow. "Back...what?"

"Backpacks," Zac repeated, one brow raising. He didn't have to worry about controlling his face since the cabinet door separated them. "You keep coming home with different ones."

"Um," Julian said quickly–too quickly, back to being on the defensive. "Well–that's...I mean, I was–"

"It's fine," Zac interrupted, which was something he didn't like to do when talking to Julian, but he didn't want him to get stressed out about backpacks. "I wasn't going to make a big deal out of it. When I was in high school, some kids–" him "–used to steal backpacks. Nobody's bullying you or giving you a hard time, right?"

"No," Julian said quickly, not that Zac could trust it. Julian had a habit of making excuses for everyone, like he needed to convince the world–or himself–that nothing bad had happened. But, quick to clear the name of his hypothetical bullies, Julian continued, "It's not like that at all. They're for a project."

Julian didn't rush to explain further, though Zac expected it, but it was far more believable because he wasn't rushing to move the conversation along.

"Huh," Zac said. The wood from the cabinet edge was digging into his back but he lay still. Maxim sighed heavily from where he was laying, thoroughly disappointed from the lack of snacks. "Okay, sounds cool. Is it a personal project?"

The silence said plenty. Julian's voice was soft when he admitted, with great difficulty, "It was supposed to be."

Zac could hear the dread laced into every word, like Julian had just gone through a thousand different ways that he'd just ruined something important.

"That's cool," Zac said, before Julian could drown under the weight of his newfound worries. "Well, let me know if you need help or want to show it off. Can you pass me the tape measure?"

"Oh-yeah," Julian said. The toolbox scraped against the floor–Julian apologized for the noise–and pressed it into Zac's open hand after he stretched it under the cabinet door.

"Thanks," Zac said. He didn't need the tape measure either, but he stretched the tape out, locked it, and poked at the sink so it sounded like he was working on something. Julian relaxed back into place, settling cross-legged in front of the sorted tool-box. He ran his fingers through Maxim's fur, scratching behind his ears. Maxim's tail wagged again, thumping loudly against the ground. He flopped over, rolling close to Julian as he bartered cuteness for affection.

Julian gave it freely, scratching his stomach obligingly.

There was no tension in the quiet that fell between them. Julian's anxious energy had faded again. Zac didn't yet crawl from under the sink. Sometimes it took Julian a little while to figure out if there was something he wanted to say, and Zac wanted to make sure he had the space to say it.

"Um," Julian said a moment later, "Would it be okay if I made a snack?"

Only the four-thousandth time he'd asked since he started living here. The answer was always the same. "Anything you want, go ahead."

Zac picked up the wrench again and loosened the bolt he'd already tightened four times. Julian moved to his knees and then pushed himself up, walking carefully around Zac as he went to the fridge. Maxim bounced up too, eagerly following Julian. Zac looked at neither of them.

Julian was always fast in the fridge, like he was worried he'd let out too much cold air and spoil everything inside. "Do you want a sandwich?" he offered.

Zac didn't. "Yeah, that sounds really good, thanks. Don't eat too much, Evan's got something big planned for dinner. Well, if I finish in here."

"Okay." Julian closed the fridge and hurried out of the room. Maxim waited by the fridge and Zac lay on the ground wondering how Julian was going to make a sandwich from the–oh, he was washing his hands in the bathroom. Okay, smart boy. Zac was grateful he wasn't going to be fed a dog and steel flavored sandwich.

Julian was back quickly, and diligently stepped around Zac, his tools, and the clutter from under the sink. Sometimes, Julian moved like he was sneaking around, like he wasn't sure he was allowed to be in the kitchen. He pulled out two plates and set them down so quietly that Zac almost didn't hear. He made his sandwich to match Zac's, only he used the lactose-free cheese.

While he was working, he asked, "Your birthday's on Friday?"

"Yep. We're gonna have steaks."

Julian nodded, arranging the sandwiches perfectly. He pressed the knife to the bread and began to cut the first diagonally. "Are you going to have a party?"

"Nah. Why, you want cake?"

"Oh–no," Julian said quickly. "Sorry, I just. Everyone, um. Seems to do something different."

"Yeah, well. When it's your birthday, it's supposed to be your day. I don't like all that fanfare. You know, presents are nice. Dinner's nice. I don't like that whole party vibe."

Julian nodded. "Me either," he said.

Zac could see his back from this angle. Julian was stooped just slightly, treating the sandwiches like they were some delicate work of art that needed his full attention. "Yeah, I figured." He tilted his head just slightly and let his arms rest by his sides again. His fingers were numb so he shook them out while Julian was focused on the sandwiches.

Another silence descended. Julian moved slower. Zac didn't have to see his face to guess what it looked like. He added, "You're not big on holidays, I mean. Are you?"

"Um, no. Not really," Julian said slowly. His shoulders curled in a bit. Somehow he managed to draw into himself a bit more.

"They're kind of a lot."

Julian nodded.

"You don't like birthdays, either?"

"Um. Well, I don't mind birthdays."

"Just not yours."

"Oh, well–I mean, it's a little–" Julian dropped the knife, not on purpose, and rapidly picked it up off the counter. Zac didn't see what happened to it after that. When Julian spoke again, it was twice as quick, and half as loud. "It's just a lot. I mean, it's so much. It's so loud. And it's so much work. I don't like surprises. And, um–well, I just–I don't like all the cameras, and–"

"Hey, it's okay. It's your birthday. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. If you don't want a party or cake or any of that other stuff, that's your call. You didn't bring it up this year. Or last year. I just wanted to make sure you knew we hadn't forgotten about you."

Julian kept the same shrunken posture, but something in his back seemed like it wanted to relax. "...Um, I didn't think you guys were the sort to forget. It wasn't–I mean, it wasn't like that. I wasn't trying to hide it, I just..."

"Wanted a quiet day?"

Julian considered this for a long moment. Then, slightly–almost imperceptibly, he nodded.

"Did you get one?"

"Um, I did, yeah. It was a really nice day, actually. Actually, um–it was the last time we went to the aquarium."

"I know," Zac said, watching as Julian's head slowly tilted to the side.

"Oh–you did?"

"Yeah." Finally, Zac let himself sit up, rubbing at his back. "Thought you might like to get out of the house. You liked the aquarium when we went before."

They'd been a few times. Julian grew a little more confident after each visit. The first time, Julian had trailed close, like he was afraid he might get lost if he didn't stay close. The second time, he'd lingered at a few exhibits. The third time, his birthday, he'd asked if they could go visit specific areas.

Zac didn't really care about fish but the aquarium wasn't so bad. They had decent coffee. The restaurant was overpriced but it was undeniably very cool. They'd eaten there. Even managed to get Julian to open up about his favorite parts of the aquarium, and got him to order something other than the cheapest thing on the menu.

"Oh. Did you..." Julian didn't finish the question quickly but Zac waited. "...I mean, did you mean to...Did you know that it was my...?"

"Yeah." Not because he was snooping. Julian hadn't ever talked about his birthday in a conversational or celebratory way. They'd only ever talked about it while filling out paperwork. It was important enough to stick. "You didn't want to make a big deal out of it, so we didn't either. Is that okay?"

"Um, yeah," Julian said. "That was, um. It was a nice birthday, actually. I really liked it. I think it was my favorite."

"Yeah? Even though we didn't really do anything?"

"Um, I think we did a lot." Julian still didn't turn around. "I liked being able to spend time with you guys. I had fun. And it was really calm. I like that a lot. Um. It was quiet. Um. It felt normal. Like any other day. But, um. Better. Sorry, I don't think I'm making a lot of sense. I didn't realize you knew. Or, um. That you planned it. But–I mean, I like it. I appreciate it. Um. Sorry, I just. No, I think it was my favorite birthday."

Zac's eyes narrowed slightly. Julian had a way of talking around things, and saying what he thought you wanted to hear. Sometimes it was hard to tell what he meant, or what he wanted you to think he meant.

"Okay. Maybe next year we can go back for your birthday?" Zac offered. It was hard to keep his voice even for so long without sounding insincere. Julian had an impeccable bullshit detector and was quick to disappear if he thought something sounded too good to be true, or too kind, or too thoughtful, or too invasive, or too honest.

Zac's effort wasn't spent on lying. Just being steady. No sarcasm, no scoffing, no profanity. Things that were ingrained in his usual habits that had to be tempered for conversations like these.

"Um. Are you sure?" Julian asked, sounding oddly young. He cleared his throat. "Next year, I'll be, you know."

"A year older. Happens to everyone. If you don't want to do the aquarium, we can pick something else."

"No–that's not what I meant." Julian almost turned but forced himself to keep his back to Zac. He pretended to mess with the sandwiches, like he'd somehow failed to cut them the first time. "I mean, I'll be eighteen."

"Yeah, that comes after seventeen. And then you'll be nineteen, and twenty, after that. What, are you going to be too old to go back by then?"

"Well–no, I like the aquarium. A lot. I just meant, you know. Um. Well, I don't want you to get tired of me."

"I think you'll get tired of me before I get tired of you." Zac was a lot more trouble than Julian ever was. Julian was predisposed to making himself as easy as possible. Zac had to put a lot of effort into being tolerable.

"Oh–no, I don't think I'd get tired of you. Um, you're really good to me. Everyone here is."

"Yeah. They are, aren't they?"

Julian nodded, even if the question was rhetorical. He kept his back to Zac for a few seconds more and then, finally, picked up the plates. He held one for himself and gave the other, nicer looking one to Zac. He’d folded a napkin around each half so Zac could eat it without having to get up and wash his hands, too.

Maxim sat between them expectantly.

"Um, thank you, Zac. Sorry, I know I'm all over the place. I think I'm still a little stressed about finals. And, um. My test. Um. Sorry. Are you sure it's okay?"

"Yeah. It's just a test. You did your best. You know, finish your sandwich, and then I'll sign it." So he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore.

Julian, relieved, nodded. "Okay, thank you. Um," he glanced at the dining room table, then at Zac, and then his untouched sandwich. He was waiting for Zac to eat first.

He never took the first bite, no matter how hungry he was. He waited obediently, under the guise of patience.

Expecting that Julian needed a moment to figure out whatever thought was rattling around in his head, Zac took a large bite of his sandwich. He nodded approvingly and chewed more times than he needed to.

It bought Julian a little extra time. He kept his head down and picked at the sandwich like he didn't know exactly what was in it already. "Would it be okay if, um. Can I sit at the dining room table?"

Zac's eyes darted up but he couldn't read Julian's expression. He was holding his breath, and the plate was gripped between both hands as he stood perfectly still.

Like he was bracing for rejection.

It was so uncommon for him to ask for anything, how could Zac say no? Especially when his request was to sit at the table. He cleared his throat. "To study? Yeah. I can keep it down. You've got a while before everyone else gets home so it should be quiet for now. That work for you?"

"Um–yes, a lot. Thank you. It won't bother you if I sit there?"

The dining room table was a few yards away from where Zac was working, by the sliding glass door leading to the backyard. It wasn't even remotely in his way.

"No, that won't bother me. This is your house, too. Go ahead. You do your work, I'll do mine?"

"Yes, please," Julian said, quick to accept–as if he thought Zac might change his mind if he wasted too much time negotiating.

Zac had no reason to protest. Julian spent so much time in his room already, who was he to try and chase him back up there?

"Yeah," he said. "Sounds like a plan."

The start of many.