Things were awful.

He and Drew were barely speaking now, and they both were finding any excuse to not be in the room. It wasn't too hard to avoid one another, though—the end of Thanksgiving break meant the beginning of the perilous slide into finals. Most of the students at Bellamy were looking particularly grim in the next few weeks, trudging through the slush with dark circles under their eyes, clutching at cups of bitter coffee, snapping at one another.

Andy was lonely.

The next weekend, Drew was out of town for an interview for the job he'd applied to in Chicago. Andy should have been glad for a few days on his own, a few days without dodging Drew's glances and one of them slipping out of the room whenever the other walked in.

But he wasn't glad. He missed Drew, even when they weren't speaking to each other. And it just reminded him that he wished he could have texted Drew the morning of the interview to wish him luck, to tell him he was incredible, and that if the company didn’t want to hire them, they could go suck a dick.

But Andy couldn't do that.

Max and Finn weren't much comfort, either. They were barely around, and when they were, the door to their room was closed. It looked Drew had been right about them—and Andy wasn't about to be a depressing third wheel to them while they were gazing lovingly into each other's eyes.

On Friday night, Andy went through his whole contacts list trying to find someone who he could hang out with. His friend Rory was up to his eyeballs in an assignment due Monday that Andy was currently avoiding, and though Rory offered to come over so they could work together, Andy politely declined.

He got similar answers from the rest of his friends—it seemed like everyone on the goddamn campus was studying except for him.

So Andy texted Noel.

>>ANDY: hey, wanna hang out?

Noel responded quickly.

>>NOEL: what?

Andy rolled his eyes.

>>ANDY: you. me. sibling bonding.

>>NOEL: ok

Andy sighed and headed out to meet up with Noel at one of the cafés on campus.

* * *

Noel, rightfully so, was very suspicious that his older brother was voluntarily spending time with him.

"So, um, how was your Thanksgiving?" Andy asked when they sat down with their food.

"Fine," Noel said as he began cutting his spaghetti into tiny portions. Andy swallowed his commentary on that.

"Did you… stay on campus?"

"Yeah," Noel said.

"Was it… fun?"

Noel made a non-committal noise and shrugged.

"Goddamnit, Noel, give me something to work with here," Andy said with exasperation. Noel looked up at him, raising his eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Huh?" Andy said.

"Why do you want to hang out with me?"

"Because—you're my brother—Mom wants—because—" Andy stammered, trying to come up with an excuse. Noel's eyebrow went even higher, until it was in danger of disappearing into his hairline, and Andy let out a frustrated growl. "Because I was lonely, okay? All my friends are busy and—and I didn't want to be by myself."

He braced himself for Noel to make fun of him, but the retort never came.

"Oh," Noel said, his voice neutral. "Okay."

He resumed cutting his spaghetti.

Andy slumped down in his chair, poking at his own plate of food, which no longer looked very appetizing.

He'd fucked things up with Drew, Max and Finn were wrapped up in each other, and his little brother hated him. He had no idea what he'd be doing next semester, and the future seemed bleak and dark and scary.

Andy wasn't feeling very good about being Andrew Craig right about now.

"You seem upset about something," Noel said, and Andy glanced up to see him take a bite of spaghetti, swallowing it neatly before dabbing at the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

"Just… stressed about classes," Andy said.

"That's a lie," Noel said, the corners of his mouth twitching. "When you lie, your nostrils flare."

Andy couldn't help barking out a laugh.

"I’m fine," he said, covering up his nose, and Noel smirked.

"That's really believable," Noel said.

Andy looked down at his plate again. Noel was offering to let Andy spill his guts, which is what Andy needed in that moment. It was hard, though—he and Noel had never been that close, and the things Andy needed to talk about were truly intimate.

But maybe that made it easier, Andy realized. Noel barely knew Drew. And Andy knew Noel would keep a secret if Andy asked him to.

"Hey," Andy said suddenly. "Do you remember that time when I was supposed to be watching you and we broke the microwave?"

Noel snorted.

"Uh, yeah," he said, glancing up at Andy. "Why?"

"I was just… thinking about that. It was kinda funny."

"Not at the time," Noel said.

"True," Andy said.

Their parents were at a fancy dinner party, and they'd made the mistake of putting Andy in charge. Andy had been sixteen at the time, Noel just about to turn thirteen, and they'd decided it would be a good idea to try microwaving different things for fun.

As it turned out, that wasn't a good idea. After thoroughly frying the microwave in a rather fantastic manner, they'd had to pool their meager savings and go out at ten at night to buy a replacement microwave before their parents got home.

Noel seemed unfazed by the sudden change in conversation.

"Well," he said, cutting his spaghetti into even smaller pieces. "If you don't want to tell me what's wrong, I have something to tell you."

"What?" Andy said, frowning. Noel had a very strange way of delivering important news, stating things as if he were reading a weather report, and Andy had no idea if Noel was about to tell him he was failing out of school or had just won a Nobel prize.

"I decided I'm gay," Noel said, setting his knife and fork down. He folded his hands and looked up at Andy, his face expressionless.

Andy snorted.

"Uh, I don't think you decide to be gay," he said.

"Of course not," Noel said dismissively. "What I mean is, over Thanksgiving break, I had sex with a guy to see if I liked it. I did. It's hardly viable statistical data, sure, but I feel like now I can safely say that I am attracted almost exclusively to men."

Andy blinked, trying to take this all in. He wasn't sure he'd ever heard Noel say so much in one go. He realized, though, that his silence could be easily mistaken for disapproval instead of surprise, so he forced himself to respond.

"Um… okay," he said.

Oops. Not exactly "Brother of the Year" material.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell Mom and Dad yet," Noel said, unperturbed by Andy's reaction. "I'm not anticipating a negative reaction to it but I'd rather wait and do it in person."

"Yeah, of course—" Andy said quickly. He shook himself mentally. "Thanks… for, uh, telling me? And, if you, like, ever—or if you feel like—you know—"

"I don't need anything," Noel said, cutting off Andy's embarrassed spluttering. "I just wanted to tell someone about it. But thank you."

"Okay," Andy said, not even sure what he'd been trying to offer Noel—maybe some sort of brotherly support, or some kind of solidarity that he wasn't quite ready to own up to—not to his little brother at least.

Andy sat up in his seat suddenly, eying his brother suspiciously.

"Who the fuck did you have sex with?" he demanded, and again Andy saw the corners of Noel's mouth twitch—his version of a grin.

"A guy in my program," Noel said placidly, returning to his spaghetti and taking a neat bite. "I asked him, and he said yes, so we went to his dorm room. I don't think I'll sleep with him again, though."

Andy slapped a hand to his forehead.

"Oh my god," he said, laughing. "Of course that's the way you fuck someone for the first time."

Noel shrugged.

"Well," he said. "It got the job done."

Andy laughed again at the thought of his weird little brother wandering up to someone in the computer lab and asking politely if he wanted to fuck with the same inflection he'd use if he were asking about an upcoming quiz.

But there was something else burrowing into him, some emotion that Andy couldn't quite name. He realized it might be something close to jealousy. Noel had announced his sexuality so simply, so matter-of-factly.

Andy wondered if, in some alternate universe where the world was a better place, things might have turned out differently between him and Drew. Wondered if, perhaps, they might have made it if only they could have been out in the open about it from the start.

But no, Andy told himself.

The problem wasn't that both he and Drew were in the closet still. The problem was that Drew had never been interested in anything more than a simple friends-with-benefits situation, and Andy, of course, had been the one who pushed it too far.

Andy grew quiet.

"I'm happy for you," he said to Noel after a moment. "If you're happy."

"Thanks," Noel said.

They sat for a while in a silence that was almost companionable.

"I was… seeing this girl," Andy said slowly. "But, um, she broke things off. And… it just sucks, I guess. I liked hi—I liked her more than she liked me."

Andy could feel Noel's eyes on him as Noel waited for Andy to continue, but Andy stared down at his plate resolutely. He had nothing more to say. He'd thought telling someone might help, but it hadn't at all. Lying, pretending it had been some anonymous girl he'd fallen for instead of his best friend, just made it worse.

"It was Drew, wasn't it?" Noel said, and Andy's head snapped up. He stared at his brother, horrified.

"What—how—I—why would you—I—"

"Two dead giveaways," Noel said. "Well, three, really. One, your nose was flaring again—" Noel tapped his own nose and Andy cursed himself for forgetting he was fundamentally unable to lie.

"Two," Noel continued. "You definitely said him instead of her and then corrected yourself. And three, that night you took care of me when I was really drunk—I woke up the next morning and you two were cuddling and it… made sense. I remember thinking, oh, of course. I can't describe it."

Noel shrugged as Andy continued to stare at his brother, dumbfounded. Noel was hardly what one might call perceptive—he was great with computers but pretty terrible when it came to human interaction, but he'd just read Andy like a book.

"Yeah," Andy said finally. "You're right."

"I know I'm right," Noel said, and Andy shot him a dirty look. "Anyway, I'm sorry it didn't work out."

"Thanks," Andy said. He slumped down a little further. "Don't, um… tell anyone."

"Of course not," Noel said.

There was a heavy pause.

"Do… do you want to talk about it?" Noel said, making a face that indicated that he'd be just fine if Andy didn't want to talk about it.

"Nah," Andy said, shaking his head, and he was telling the truth. "I guess… it feels better now that someone else other than me knows. I was starting to feel like… I dunno. Whatever."

They finished their meal quietly. Andy was lost in thought—telling Noel made everything seem a little more real. One on hand, that was good. The whole semester hadn't been some strange fever dream he'd cooked up. On the other hand, the pain itself hadn't lessened at all. But now there was at least one other human on the planet who knew what Andy was going through.

And that helped.

Even if that human was his weird little brother.

But maybe Noel, Andy thought to himself, wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

Things were a little better when Drew got back from his interview, but not by much. They seemed to have reached an awkward truce—when Drew got back Sunday night, Andy asked him how it had gone, and Drew had looked startled that Andy was talking to him again.

But Andy had never been good at holding grudges. And even if Drew didn't want to be with him, Andy missed his best friend.

One of the last nights before the winter break, the four housemates went out to dinner, and things were almost like they'd been last year—the four of them laughing and talking over pizza, swapping jokes and gently teasing one another. Andy felt a glimmer of hope that, though the days were cold and short and grim, maybe things might someday return to normal.

And "normal" wasn't as good as having Drew, of course. But he would take what he could get.

* * *

On Christmas Eve, Andy got a text from Drew. His heart lurched when he saw Drew Riordan pop up on his screen, and he didn’t know if it was anxiety or excitement. Probably both.

>>DREW: Can I call you?

Andy grimaced. That was about the most ominous text message a person could receive.

>>ANDY: sure

Andy braced himself, and a moment later, the call came.

"Hello?" Andy said as he answered.

"Hey," Drew said. Andy hadn't even realized how much he'd missed Drew's voice, low and gentle and rumbly like molasses.

"Are you okay?" Andy asked.

"Oh," Drew said, sounding surprised. "Oh, yeah. I guess that was kind of an abrupt text. Yeah, I'm fine."

Andy snorted as he relaxed back onto his bed, breathing in the savory smells wafting up from the first floor. His dad was in the middle of cooking Christmas Eve dinner—it was a Craig family tradition to spend the evening together, before going to the extended family celebration the next day.

"What's up?" Andy asked, as though it were totally normal for Drew to be calling him on Christmas Eve, even though they had barely spoken in the past month.

"It was just too much to put in a text message," Drew said. He sounded a little uncertain, as though he was regretting calling. "But, um… I guess I just wanted to tell you that… I think… things are okay with my dad? With… you know. Me being gay."

"Oh," Andy said, caught off guard. "That’s really good, dude. I’m glad."

"Yeah," Drew said, and Andy could hear the smile in his voice. "We… had this really fucking weird conversation at dinner last night. You know my dad barely talks, but he started going on about some metaphor about woodworking and maple and cherry and different finishes. At first I had no fucking clue what he was talking about, but I'm pretty sure it was just this weird metaphor he made up to tell me he didn't care if I was gay."

Andy couldn't help laughing. He could picture it perfectly, especially now that he'd been to Drew's house. In his mind, he could see Drew sitting at the tiny kitchen table, looking bemused as his normally taciturn father rambled on about carpentry.

"That's… kind of perfect," Andy said.

"I know, right?" Drew said, laughing now too. "Exactly the kind of thing my dad would do."

Their laughed waned, and they both trailed off. The silence was awkward, but Andy didn't want to hang up.

"So, yeah," Drew said stiffly. "I guess… I just wanted to… tell you that."

"I'm really happy for you," Andy said. "And I hope the rest of your family is chill, too, you know? When you decide to tell them, I mean."

"Yeah."

There was another awkward pause.

"So… how has your break been?" Andy asked. He rolled onto his stomach, picking at the frayed comforter he'd had on his bed since he was ten—his mother had tried to get rid of it once, but Andy had thrown a fit, insisting that it was still fine despite the many holes from which batting leaked out.

"Um, good," Drew said, and Andy didn't know if he was imagining the lightness, the relief, in Drew's voice, as though he too were looking for an excuse to keep talking to Andy.

They chatted about safe, conversational topics—how Andy's parents were thinking of getting a dog, now that they were coping with full-fledged empty nest panic, how one of Drew's cousins had gotten married and then gotten divorced a week later, how Max and Finn were definitely banging even if they thought they were hiding it.

And before Andy knew it, nearly an hour had passed, and Noel was knocking on his door, telling him flatly that dinner was ready.

"Hey, um, I have to go, but… it was good talking with you," Andy said. "And… I'll see you in a week and a half."

"Yeah," Drew said. "Um—yeah. Bye. Merry Christmas."

"You, too."

Andy was quieter than usual during dinner, but when his mother commented on it, Andy said he'd stayed up late the night before and was tired. Noel was giving him a strange look, and when Andy met his gaze, Noel tapped his nose and Andy realized Noel knew he was lying.

He quickly looked away, focusing on his dinner. He was lost in thought, trying to figure out what he was actually feeling in that moment. He was happy. He was sad. He was grateful. He was confused. He was even a little angry, though he didn't know if he was upset at Drew or just himself.

So maybe their friendship hadn't been completely destroyed. Andy hadn't irreparably fucked things up.

He'd taken things too far last semester, but Andy was determined not to make the same mistake a second time. He'd teach himself not to care about Drew that way anymore—though, now when Andy looked back on the three and a half years he'd known Drew, he suddenly found it hard to remember what not loving Drew had even felt like.

Andy could do it, though. He'd find a way to stop the ache.

* * *

After dinner, Noel wandered into the basement, where Andy was sprawled across a couch, trying to occupy himself with a video game he'd never managed to actually beat. Noel sat down and picked up a controller. He and Andy had never hung out like this before, but Andy found himself having fun.

And he understood that somehow, in Noel's weird, silent way, his brother was trying to comfort him.