THURSDAY
Mornings fell into rhythm.
Coffee. Toast. Lydia's chaotic energy filling the kitchen before either of them were fully awake.
She kissed their cheeks, stole half of Noah's breakfast, then vanished out the door in a blur of laughter.
The rest of the day unfolded like clockwork — meetings, reports, endless emails.
Atlas buried in calls. Noah answering messages from friends he hadn't seen in weeks.
Ordinary things. Simple things.
And when evening came, the city felt softer.
Home waited — warm light, the smell of dinner, and the kind of quiet that only belonged to them.
---
Noah pushed through the door, the city's noise cutting off as it closed behind him.
Lydia's voice carried from the kitchen. Along with the smell of something that made his stomach growl.
He dropped his bag. Loosened his tie.
"What are you making?"
"Lamb." Atlas appeared in the doorway. Sleeves rolled up. Hair slightly mussed. A dish towel over his shoulder like he'd been doing this his whole life. "With roasted vegetables and tzatziki."
"You made tzatziki?"
"From scratch." Atlas's mouth twitched. "Lydia wanted Greek food."
"You can't just SAY no to her, can you?"
"Why would I?" Atlas crossed to him. Pulled him close by his loosened tie. Kissed him properly. "Hi."
Noah's brain went fuzzy. "...Hi."
"Gross!" Lydia yelled from the kitchen. "I'm literally right here!"
Atlas kissed him again. Slower. "She says that every time."
"And yet you keep doing it."
"Yeah." Atlas's thumb traced Noah's jaw. "I really do."
---
The dining table was set. Actual plates, not takeout containers. Candles Lydia had apparently found somewhere.
"When did we get candles?" Noah asked.
"I bought them." Lydia was already sitting. "This place needed ambiance."
"Ambiance."
"Yes. Ambiance." She gestured at the spread. "Look how nice this is. "
Something in Noah's chest went tight.
Atlas's hand found his under the table. Squeezed.
They ate. Lydia talked—something about her friend group drama that required a full flowchart to understand. Noah mostly listened, stealing bites from Atlas's plate when he wasn't looking.
"I can see you doing that," Atlas said without looking up.
"No you can't."
"Your fork is literally on my plate right now."
Noah pulled his hand back. "That was a test. You passed."
Lydia snorted into her water.
"So," she said, pointing her fork at them. "Movie night?"
"We have work tomorrow," Noah started.
"It's eight PM. You're not that old."
"I'm twenty-two—"
"Ancient. Basically dead." She was already pulling out her phone. "I'm picking. And before you argue, remember who's the guest here."
"You've been here three days," Noah said. "At what point do you stop being a guest and start paying rent?"
"Never." She grinned. "I'm your baby sister."
Atlas laughed. Actually laughed—that surprised sound he only made when Lydia caught him off guard.
"What?" Lydia looked pleased with herself. "I'm funny."
"You are," Atlas agreed.
"See? Atlas gets it." She stood. Started clearing plates. "You two go set up the living room. I'll finish here."
"You cooked, we clean—" Noah started.
"Atlas cooked. I supervised. Now go. Shoo."
---
LIVING ROOM
Noah sank into the couch. Everything in his body said this is too comfortable, you'll never get up.
Atlas dropped beside him. Close enough that their thighs pressed together.
"She's something," Atlas said quietly.
"She's a nightmare."
"A good nightmare." Atlas's arm stretched along the back of the couch. Not quite touching Noah's shoulders but close enough to feel the warmth.
Noah leaned into it. Just slightly.
Atlas's fingers found his shoulder. Started tracing absent patterns.
"You okay?" Atlas asked.
"Yeah. Just—" Noah glanced toward the kitchen. Lowered his voice. "This feels weird."
"Bad weird?"
"No. Good weird. Like we're..." He couldn't finish.
"Playing house?" Atlas suggested.
"Yeah."
Atlas was quiet for a moment. His fingers still moving on Noah's shoulder. "Is that bad?"
"I don't know. What if—" Noah stopped. Started again. "What if people find out?"
Atlas's hand stilled. "About us?"
"About all of this. Us living together. Lydia here. Everything."
"Noah—"
"What if someone else figures it out? What if—"
Atlas turned him. Made him look. "Hey. One crisis at a time, okay?"
"That's not how anxiety works."
"I know." Atlas's thumb brushed his cheekbone. "But we're here. Right now. With your sister who's probably about to force us to watch some terrible movie. Can we just... be here?"
Noah wanted to argue. But Atlas was looking at him with those dark eyes that made thinking impossible.
"Okay," he said finally. "Here."
"Here," Atlas repeated. Then kissed him. Soft.
"STILL GROSS!" Lydia yelled from the kitchen.
They broke apart. Both grinning.
"She has radar," Noah muttered.
"Exceptional radar."
---
Lydia emerged with popcorn. An actually massive bowl that she'd somehow made without burning down the kitchen.
"Okay." She wedged herself between them on the couch. "We're watching La La Land."
"Absolutely not," Noah said immediately.
"Too late. Already decided."
"That movie is three hours of people singing at each other—"
"Two hours and eight minutes. And it's a MASTERPIECE." She was already pulling it up. "Atlas, back me up."
Atlas looked between them. Clearly trying not to laugh. "I've never seen it."
Lydia gasped. Actual gasped. Hand to chest. "You've never—how is that possible?"
"I don't watch many movies."
"That's tragic. Okay. Decision made. We're fixing your cultural education." She hit play.
The opening scene started—that freeway traffic jam, everyone breaking into choreographed dance.
"This is ridiculous," Noah muttered.
"Shh. You're ruining it."
"It just started—"
"SHH."
Noah looked at Atlas. Help me.
Atlas just smiled. Settled deeper into the couch. His arm came down around Noah's shoulders properly now.
Noah leaned into him. Let his head rest against Atlas's chest where he could hear the steady thump of his heartbeat.
Lydia's elbow dug into his ribs. "Pass the popcorn."
"It's literally in your lap."
"I can't reach that side."
"How—" Noah gave up. Grabbed a handful. Shoved it in his mouth.
On screen, Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone were having their first awkward interaction. Noah had seen this movie. Against his will. Multiple times. Emma had made him watch it sophomore year.
But somehow with Atlas's fingers playing with his hair and Lydia's running commentary, it felt different.
"Okay but his FACE right there—" Lydia pointed at the screen. "That's literally how Atlas looks at you."
"It is not—"
"It is." She turned to Atlas. "You do this thing where your whole face goes soft. It's actually disgusting how cute it is."
Atlas's hand stilled in Noah's hair. "I don't—"
"You really do," Noah said.
"See? Even Noah admits it." Lydia grabbed more popcorn. "You guys are so obvious it's painful."
"We're not obvious—"
"You hold hands under tables. You have entire conversations with just eye contact. Yesterday I watched you smile at your phone for five minutes straight." She turned to Atlas. "You texted him a heart emoji. A HEART EMOJI."
"How did you—"
"I was sitting right there. Your phone isn't that small." She turned back to the movie. "I'm just saying. You're not subtle."
Noah caught Atlas's eye. Saw his own panic reflected there.
If Lydia could tell...
"Hey." Lydia's voice was softer now. "I'm not gonna say anything. You know that, right?"
"Yeah," Noah said quietly. "I know."
"Good." She shoved more popcorn in her mouth. "Now shut up. This is the good part."
---
They made it forty minutes before Lydia shifted. Curled her legs under her. Then—so casually Noah almost missed it—rested her head on Atlas's other shoulder.
Atlas went very still.
Noah felt it. The way every muscle in Atlas's body locked up. The way his breathing changed.
On screen, someone was singing on a bench. Noah wasn't watching.
He was watching Atlas. The way his eyes had gone slightly wide. The way he was staring straight ahead like moving might break whatever this was.
Lydia didn't seem to notice. Just adjusted to get comfortable. Sighed contentedly.
"This okay?" she mumbled. Already half-asleep.
Atlas's voice came out rough. "Yeah. It's—yeah."
His arm came up. Slowly. Carefully. Until it rested across her shoulders too.
And Noah saw it. The exact moment something in Atlas's expression shifted. Went soft. Almost wondering.
He's never had this.
The thought hit Noah hard.
Atlas had Evelyn. But she was older. Serious. Their relationship built on mutual protection, not casual affection.
But this—Lydia falling asleep on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world—this was different.
This was family. Real family. The kind that didn't come with conditions or performances or walls.
Noah's hand found Atlas's where it rested on the couch between them. Laced their fingers together.
Atlas looked at him. His eyes were too bright.
You okay? Noah mouthed.
Atlas nodded. Squeezed his hand.
They stayed like that. Lydia snoring softly on Atlas's shoulder. Noah tucked against his chest. Atlas's arms around both of them.
On screen, the movie played on. Dancing. Singing. Some dream sequence with stars.
Noah didn't see any of it.
He was too busy watching Atlas watch his sister. The way Atlas's thumb traced absent circles on Lydia's shoulder. The way he kept looking down at her like he couldn't quite believe she was real.
This is what he needed, Noah thought. Someone who just... loves him. No conditions. No expectations. Just this.
---
By the time the credits rolled, Lydia was fully asleep. Mouth open slightly. Snoring.
"We should wake her," Noah whispered.
"Five more minutes," Atlas said. His voice was quiet. Raw.
So they sat there. Five minutes turned to ten. Ten to fifteen.
Finally, Noah shifted. "Lyds. Hey. Movie's over."
She stirred. Blinked. Looked confused about where she was.
"Oh." She sat up. Rubbed her eyes. "Did I fall asleep?"
"Little bit," Atlas said.
"Sorry." She yawned. Huge. "That was rude."
"It wasn't." Atlas's voice was soft. "You're tired. Go to bed."
"But I didn't finish—"
"You've seen it before."
"How did you know?"
"You were quoting it before you fell asleep."
Lydia grinned. Sleepy. She stood. Stretched. Then bent and kissed Atlas's cheek. "Thanks for letting me crash your date night."
"Wasn't a date night—" Noah started.
"Was absolutely a date night." She kissed Noah's cheek too. "Love you both. Don't stay up too late doing gross couple things."
She wandered off. Her door closed a moment later.
Silence settled.
Noah looked at Atlas. "You okay?"
"Yeah." Atlas pulled him closer. "Really okay."
"She got to you."
"Maybe." Atlas's arms tightened. "Is that bad?"
"No." Noah pressed his face into Atlas's neck. "It's perfect."
They sat there. The TV had gone dark. The city glowed beyond the windows.
"I want this," Atlas said quietly.
"What?"
"This. All of it." His hand moved up and down Noah's spine. "Coming home to you. Lydia being here. Cooking dinner together. Stupid movie nights where your sister falls asleep on me."
Noah's throat went tight. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Atlas pulled back. Made Noah look at him. "I know it's early. I know we have about a thousand problems to deal with. But I want this. With you. All of it."
"Me too."
They kissed. Slow and deep and perfect.
When they broke apart, Atlas stood. Pulled Noah up with him.
"Come on."
"Where—"
"Bed." Atlas's mouth curved. "I said I wanted to come home to you. Didn't say anything about sleeping on this couch."
---
FRIDAY MORNING
"—GUYS! COME ON! I'M STARVING!"
Noah jerked awake. His heart pounding.
"What—"
"BREAKFAST! HELLO!"
Atlas groaned beside him. Pressed his face into Noah's shoulder. "What time is it?"
Noah squinted at his phone. "Almost eight."
"Too early."
"NOAH! ATLAS! I CAN HEAR YOU TALKING!"
"She's going to break down the door," Noah muttered.
"Let her." Atlas's arm tightened around him. "Five more minutes."
"She's been yelling for five minutes."
"Ten more minutes."
"THAT'S IT! I'M COMING IN!"
They both sat up.
"NO!" Noah yelled. "We're coming!"
"FINALLY!"
Footsteps retreated down the hall.
They looked at each other. Hair sticking up. Both shirtless. Sheets tangled around their legs.
"Do you still love her?" Noah asked.
Atlas laughed. Actually laughed. "Yeah. Somehow. Yeah."
"God help us."
They got dressed. Noah in sweats and a t-shirt. Atlas in pajama pants and nothing else because apparently he wanted to torture Noah.
"You're doing that on purpose," Noah accused.
"Doing what?"
"The—" Noah gestured at his chest. "That."
Atlas looked down at himself. Back up. Smiled. Slow and knowing. "You complaining?"
"I'm—" Noah's brain short-circuited. "Shut up."
Atlas crossed to him. Backed him against the dresser. Kissed him until Noah forgot why they were arguing.
"Still complaining?" Atlas murmured against his mouth.
"I DON'T HEAR FOOTSTEPS!" Lydia yelled.
They broke apart. Both grinning.
"She really does have radar," Atlas said.
---
KITCHEN
Lydia was already at the counter. Wearing one of Noah's hoodies. Hair in the messiest bun Noah had ever seen.
"Morning!" She was aggressively cheerful. "I want pancakes."
"I'll make them," Noah said.
"Atlas makes better pancakes."
"How would you know? You've had his pancakes once."
"Once was enough. They were perfect." Her eyes met Atlas's. Puppy eyes. "Please?"
Atlas sighed. "Fine."
"YES!" She turned to Noah. "See? He gets it."
"He spoils you."
"That's literally his job." She hopped up on the counter. "So. Alice's party tonight."
Atlas pulled out ingredients. Started whisking. "Small thing. Just close friends."
"Sounds fun."
"It's not really—" Noah started.
"Can I come?"
"No."
Lydia's face fell. She turned to Atlas. "Atlas?"
Atlas looked at Noah. Your call.
Noah sighed. Heavily. "Fine. But you behave."
"I'm always behaved!"
"You're literally never behaved."
"Rude." She grinned. "What should I wear?"
"Clothes," Noah said.
"Helpful." She pulled out her phone. Started scrolling. "Alice is Atlas's friend, right? Is this like... fancy fancy? Or fancy casual?"
"Somewhere in between," Atlas said. He was already cooking. The smell of butter and vanilla filling the kitchen.
"So cocktail dress territory?"
"If you want. Or nice pants." Atlas flipped a pancake. Perfect golden brown. "Whatever you're comfortable in."
Lydia beamed. "Okay. I'm going shopping after breakfast. Noah, I need your card — I hit my limit."
"Absolutely not."
"Please? I'll pay you back."
"With what money?"
"Future money."
"That's not how money works—"
"Atlas?" She turned the puppy eyes on him.
"Don't—" Noah warned.
Too late. Atlas was already pulling out his wallet. Handed her a card.
"You're welcome to use it," he said. "Just... maybe not the whole limit?"
Lydia actually squealed. Launched herself at him. Kissed his cheek. "Thank you thank you thank you! You're the BEST!"
Atlas looked startled. Then pleased. His hand patted her back awkwardly.
"You're encouraging her," Noah said.
"She's shopping for tonight." Atlas flipped another pancake. "That's legitimate."
"You're ridiculous."
"You like me ridiculous."
"I really don't."
Atlas looked at him. That slow smile. The one that made Noah's stomach flip. "Liar."
Lydia chuckled. "Okay seriously. You two are the worst. Or the best. I can't decide."
They ate breakfast. Lydia cataloged everything she needed to buy. Noah pretended to be annoyed while secretly loving every second.
Atlas's hand found his thigh under the counter. Squeezed.
Noah looked at him. What?
Atlas just smiled. Shook his head. Nothing.
But Noah knew that look. That soft expression Atlas got sometimes when he thought Noah wasn't paying attention.
He's happy, Noah realized. Actually happy.
---
NOAH'S OFFICE
The office was noisy — phones ringing, keyboards clacking, people moving in and out.Noah tried to focus, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Atlas.Finally, he picked up his phone and typed a message.
Noah: What are you wearing tonight?
Atlas: Why? Want to coordinate?
Noah: Maybe.
Atlas: Dark pants. White shirt. No tie. You?
Noah: Was thinking navy shirt. Dark pants.
Atlas: Perfect. You'll look beautiful.
Noah's face burned. Good thing he was alone in his office.
Noah: You can't just SAY things like that.
Atlas: Why not?
Noah: Because now I'm distracted.
Atlas: Good. I've been distracted all day.
Noah: Yeah?
Atlas: Can't stop thinking about this morning. You. In my arms. Lydia yelling at us.
Noah: That was torture.
Atlas: Best torture I've ever had.
Noah: You're impossible.
Atlas: You love me impossible.
Noah: Unfortunately.
Atlas: See you at 6?
Noah: I'll be there.
Atlas: Can't wait.
Noah put his phone down. Smiled at his computer screen.
His door opened.
Jerry stepped into the office.
"You're smiling at your screen," he said. "Is that… love I see?"
Noah blinked. "What? No. Definitely not."
Jerry raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"
Noah looked away, trying — and failing — to hide the grin tugging at his mouth.
"Just a funny email," he muttered.
"Uh-huh." Jerry crossed his arms. "Does your dad know?"
Noah froze. "No. He doesn't."
Jerry nodded slowly. "Then maybe… be careful, okay?"
Noah swallowed. "Yeah. Okay."
After Jerry left, the smile faded.
Noah stared at his screen — but the warmth in his chest was already tangled with fear.
His father.
Was he starting to suspect?
How long before he figured it out?
How long before everything fell apart?
Noah wanted to believe they were safe.
He really did.
---
THE APARTMENT
Noah got home to chaos.
Lydia had apparently bought out half of SoHo. Shopping bags everywhere. Clothes strewn across the guest room. Music blasting.
"—I DON'T KNOW WHICH ONE—" She appeared in the doorway. Holding up two dresses. "Help."
"They're both nice?"
"That's not helpful!" She looked past him. "ATLAS!"
Atlas came out of the bedroom. Already dressed. Dark pants. White shirt rolled at the sleeves. Hair perfect.
Noah forgot how to breathe.
"Which one?" Lydia demanded.
Atlas looked at both dresses. "The black one. More versatile."
"SEE?" She turned to Noah. "Atlas gets fashion."
"Atlas gets everything apparently," Noah muttered.
Atlas crossed to him. "Hi."
"Hi." Noah's voice came out weird. "You look—"
"You're staring."
"Can you blame me?"
Atlas kissed him. Quick. "Go get ready. We leave in thirty."
"Thirty minutes—"
"You'll make it." Atlas turned him around. Pushed him toward the bedroom. "Go."
---
Noah showered. Changed. The navy shirt Atlas had mentioned. Dark pants. Tried to do something with his hair.
Gave up after five minutes.
When he came out, Lydia was ready. The black dress. Hair actually styled. Heels that made her three inches taller.
She looked... older. Not eighteen. Closer to twenty-five.
"Wow," Noah said.
She grinned. "Right?" Spun around. "Atlas helped with my makeup."
"He what?"
"I didn't know where to put highlighter. He showed me." She glanced at Atlas. "You're weirdly good at that."
"Evelyn used to make me practice on her," Atlas said. "Said I needed to understand makeup if I was going to date anyone seriously."
"Smart sister." Lydia grabbed her clutch. "Okay. Ready?"
They looked at each other. Noah in his navy shirt. Atlas in white. Lydia in black.
"We look good," she announced. "Like a weird hot family. Let's go."
---
IN THE CAR
"So where does Alice live?" Lydia asked from the back seat.
"Westchester," Atlas said. "About forty minutes."
"Fancy."
"It's nice." Atlas's hand found Noah's on the console. Laced their fingers together.
Noah watched the city blur past his window. His leg was bouncing. He couldn't stop it.
"Hey." Atlas squeezed his hand. "Breathe."
"I'm breathing."
"You're panicking."
"I'm not—" Noah stopped. "Okay. Maybe a little."
"These are good people. Safe people."
"I know."
"Then what?"
Noah glanced back. Lydia was on her phone. Headphones in.
"What if I freeze?" Noah said quietly.
"Then we leave."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that." Atlas lifted Noah's hand. Kissed his knuckles. "No pressure. No expectations. Just... see how it feels."
Noah nodded. Didn't quite believe it.
But Atlas's hand was warm in his. And the city was falling away behind them.
One step at a time, he told himself.
Just get through tonight.
Everything else can wait.