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Beat that Record

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Isak doesn’t really have the mind capacity to think anything but ”Fuck Jonas”. Because all of this is his fault. Definitely his fault.

Fucking Jonas.


“I don’t know man, she was just, so responsive?” Jonas said, biting into his sandwich. “Like, she was more sensitive than anyone else I’ve been with.”

Hearing about the other boys’ sexcapades had become much less uncomfortable when he didn’t have to keep up the pretence that he was straight.

It most certainly also helps that he has his very hot boyfriend running his hand up and down his thigh with no other reason than just to feel him.

Isak had worried a bit about moving in with Even. Not that they didn’t practically already live out of each other’s pockets, it was just more what you always heard every other couple say; the lack of space, always being around the other person. There certainly were days where they were annoyed with each other, but other days Isak was just so completely in love that those days didn’t matter, at all.

Today was one of those days where he could just sit and admire Even.

“I don’t know man. She said she came, like, four times without me touching her clit.”

“Four times?” Magnus asks, outraged. “Just from you fucking her?”

“Do you think she was lying?” Mahdi asked, taking his eyes off of his waffles for a moment.

Jonas shrugged. “I don’t think so? You know Elise, she doesn’t really lie about that.”

“Oh, fy faen, did you hear about that other guy she was with?” Magnus asks excitedly. “She, like, completely tore him down because he apparently didn’t make her cum even once.”

It’s not on purpose that Isak tunes them out. It’s just… Even’s much prettier.

“It’s not really fair, though,” Magnus continues, stabbing his fork onto his pasta, “she came, what, four times, and you only came once?” Jonas nodded.

“That’s the way it is, man,” Mahdi said before digging into his waffles.

“Ugh, you’re so lucky,” Magnus says, turning his body towards Isak and Even.

Isak can feel his brows furrowing and his body and mind preparing for another insensitive and frankly quite rude Magnus-comment.

“Why?” Even really should learn to be more hesitant about speaking to Magnus, and Isak can see Jonas and Mahdi thinking the exact same thing.

“Like, you only get to have one each and then go to bed? Girls can go for so long and then you never really know whether they do come or not or if they’re just being nice. You guys always know that.”

Isak thinks the people across from them in the cafeteria can hear the sigh he lets out.

“When it comes to you, they’re definitely just being nice about it,” Mahdi laughs, and that’s that.

Except, maybe it’s not, because Even keeps quiet for the rest of lunch. It’s not until he’s standing next to Isak’s locker while Isak’s fishing out his chemistry book that he lets out a hesitant “Isak...”

Isak only has to look at him for a few seconds before he knows what it’s about. “No.”






Even doesn’t say anything about it for the rest of the day, and by the time Isak’s washing the dishes after having leftovers with Even, he’s completely forgotten about it.

He’s standing with soapy hands and water just a touch too warm splashing over them when Even comes into the kitchen. He stands in the doorway just watching Isak handle their silverware before walking over to him, folding his arms around his waist.

Hei, baby,” Isak greets, immediately leaning back in the embrace, tipping his head back onto Even’s shoulder, raising his head a bit, asking for a kiss.

Even smiles and complies, pressing an unhurried kiss against Isak’s lips, pulling back only for a second to make eye contact, before pressing another kiss onto his lips.

“Hello handsome,” Even replies, moving his mouth slowly down Isak’s neck, keeping his kisses light as feathers, slightly tickling Isak’s skin.

Isak huffs and turns his attention back to the dishes, expecting Even to move onto making his evening tea or something. He doesn’t, though. Instead he tightens his arms and presses his nose into Isak’s neck, nuzzling it, making Isak smile.

“Mmm,” Even hums. “You look so good today.”

Isak can’t keep his laughter in. “Are you flirting with me, Mr. Næsheim?”

He can feel Even’s smile pressing against his skin. He also feels another part of Even, twitching slightly.

“Always,” Even says and starts to press open-mouthed kisses closer to Isak’s jaw.

His hands are moving now as well, feeling Isak’s stomach through his clothes, slowly tracing down to his bellybutton, and then further down to the hemline of his shirt. He’s slowly pulling at it, just teasing his fingertips underneath the fabric, fingers skimming over Isak’s hips and abdomen before going back to feeling him up outside of the fabric.

“Tease,” Isak breathes and leans back for another kiss. He can already feel himself getting quite hard, and Even smiling as if he’s completely oblivious as to what effect he has on Isak is not helping.

Besides, Isak can feel how into it Even is.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Even says, nipping on the skin behind Isak’s ear. One of his hands goes to turn off the water while the other one plays with the waistline of Isak’s boxers, snapping it against his hips making Isak gasp from the sudden sting.

And then both hands are moving underneath the fabric and Isak can feel himself already sighing from the relief he will feel from Even’s hands around him.

Except… Even’s hands completely bypass where Isak wants them right now, making Isak involuntarily let out a small, grumpy whine at his boyfriend.

Even’s breaths are heavy against his ear as his hands caress his groin, moving further down to his taint, before there are suddenly fingers lightly pressing and tapping against his rim, the pads of his index and middle fingers softly running over it.

Isak jumps when he first feels it, clenching, and accidentally rubbing back against Even’s hard on, making the other groan. One of Even’s hands move back up to Isak’s hip, firmly curling around him, holding him still.

Even gently hushes Isak when he makes a noise from how Even’s fingers are pressing into his hip, not hard enough to leave bruises but hard enough that Isak knows he’s serious.

Isak can’t really take it anymore. He feels himself straining, pressing uncomfortably against his tight jeans, the fit already tighter from how Even’s hands are in them as well, and so he moves to touch himself, just a bit of relief.

Even immediately sees where his hands are heading, though. Isak gasps from how sudden Even hands have moved off of him and instead are holding his wrists tightly against his chest.

“Be good for me,” Even says, and Isak whimpers when he finds he can’t move his arms.

Even isn’t moving though, and Isak can’t seem to stop squirming. He frantically nods to Even. “I’ll be good.”

Even presses a kiss into his hair, replying that he knows he will.

He’s turned around in a swift motion, his body aligned with Even’s as he’s pushed into the counter. His mind doesn’t really register the ache in his lower back, though, as Even’s kissing him again.

It’s heady and rushed and Even’s already fucking his tongue in short thrusts into his mouth; something he usually reserves for when either of them are close.

He can’t help the noise he makes when Even moves back, his arms folding around Even’s neck to bring him back.

Even only laughs, though, and breathes “bed” against his lips, before dipping down, pressing his own briefly against Isak’s.

Isak’s already pulled off his shirt and is working on the button on his pants when he’s pushed onto the bed, landing awkwardly on the side of it quite close to falling off.

Faen, Even,” he breathes, wiggling closer to the centre of the bed.

Even doesn’t apologize, only lifts his eyebrows for a moment before pulling his own shirt off.

He places one hand on Isak’s knee before slowly crawling up his body. “Hey.”

Isak laughs. “Hei, baby,” and Even can’t help but smile before giving Isak a quick kiss.

Isak’s not grinning though when Even slowly begins descending down Isak’s body, pressing open mouthed kisses down his neck, chest, stomach, the sight making Isak breathless and unable to look away.

Even’s rushing to pull down his pants and his boxers come off at the same time, his dick snapping up and hits his stomach roughly. Isak’s full on expecting a blowjob when Even comes back from having thrown his trousers somewhere in the room. Except…

Once again, Even completely bypasses his dick and instead kisses his perineum, nose pressing into his groin.

Isak throws his head back onto the pillows. “Even,” he complains and is immediately reprimanded with a harsh bite in his upper thigh.

“Be good,” Even reminds him, and then digs in, his tongue immediately trying to press into Isak’s body.

Isak flies up and reflexively closes his legs, only Even’s only pulling him back and keeping his legs open.

It’s rushed and slobbery and so, so good, and Isak can’t keep his eyes on Even, but closing them only makes him feel it more intensely. The way Even’s tongue is moving around his rim, changing between small kitten licks, and broader, heavier one, pushing inside him. The way his arms are holding his thighs open. The way his hands are holding onto his hips.

It’s a bit of an awkward angle; it’d be easier were he to lie on his stomach or with a pillow underneath his hips, but all thoughts of positions and angles are flying out of his head when Even presses a slippery finger into him, making him keen.

“Jesus,” he says. His dick is lying against his stomach, pre-cum already starting to bubble at the tip, and the more he looks at it and Even between his thighs, the more he needs to touch himself. Surely Even won’t notice.

But he does. The finger Even has pressed inside him flies out, leaving Isak feeling as if all air’s been punched out of his gut.

“I’d say sorry,” Even says, folding his body on top of Isak’s, his hands moving both of Isak’s over his head, “but you’re not being very good right now.”

All of the fight immediately leaves Isak, and instead he avoids Even’s eyes, mumbling out an embarrassed “sorry.”

Even only kisses his cheek and moves both of Isak’s wrists into one hand, the other one he presses between Isak’s legs, pressing one finger in just to check how open he is, before he slides another finger in as well.

Isak can’t help the way his legs tighten around Even’s waist, the way his body tries to curl in on itself, but Even doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, however, he curls his fingers into Isak’s spot, pressing hard enough that Isak can’t distinguish between it being pleasurable or painful.

“Jesus,” Isak mumbles, body going taught every time Even curls his fingers. “What’s gotten into you today?” his voice breaks in the end when Even presses another finger in.

“Honestly, I was hoping I was getting into you, actually.”

Isak knows Even’s smiling at his own joke, the prick, but he can’t for the love of god keep his eyes open right now. Not when Even is moving his fingers in small circles over his spot, his thumb gently pressing down on his perineum. “Dick,” is really all he manages to say, voice chocked.

It doesn’t take long before Even’s pulling back entirely to take off his own pants. Isak can’t help but clench when he sees his dick, a wet spot having formed in his underwear. His mouth salivates at the thought of Even crawling over his body and slowly feeding him his dick, just like that one time.

He doesn’t. Instead Even slicks himself up before pressing against Isak, slowly adding pressure until he’s slipping in.

They’ve done this before – many times, actually – but the initial breach still leaves Isak gasping for a few seconds while his body makes room for Even to press in. Usually he’d be able to take some of the discomfort away by stroking his dick, but for some reason, Even just isn’t letting him.

He whines the third time he tries reaching for it and Even snaps his hands away.


Even, the little shit, is calmly thrusting in small, soft jabs, trying to help Isak adjust to his size. “Why what, darling?”

Isak grabs onto Even’s sides instead, curling his fingers in to make sure he doesn’t touch himself. “Why won’t you let me touch myself?”

Even leans down, elbows resting on either side of Isak’s head, his hips still moving perfectly slowly as Isak feels himself loosening up a bit more with every movement.

“I know you don’t need to,” Even whispers in his ear. His breath is hot and makes Isak shiver, nails slightly digging into Even’s skin, making him hiss. “You don’t, do you? I know how much you like it when I can make you cum without touching you. When you cum by me fucking into you, so deep.”

Isak feels himself clench down as he loses his breath and he vaguely registers Even’s groan as he does so. They’ve only just started and objectively he knows he shouldn’t be this close yet, but he’s got his very hot boyfriend between his legs, and he can feel him all around him, inside him, he can hear him, everything is Even, he can’t register anything but.

The sudden hard thrust Even gives him, which makes him scramble to hold onto Even, his fingers sliding and slipping over his skin, his breath coming out in hard pants and small sounds, and none of it most certainly helps with not coming right this second.

“Now you’re being good for me,” Even says, pressing a rough kiss against Isak’s mouth before sitting up, admiring the way Isak looks for him, at him, as he starts giving it to him good.

With Even sitting up Isak’s hands are too close to his dick for him not to give into temptation, so he moves them up to his own hair, grabs on and tries to focus on keeping them clenched.

“Baby,” Even groans, one hand slowly moving up from Isak’s hip, up his stomach, torso, chest, before moving to gently thumb at his nipple. Isak keens when he starts squeezing the nub, slowly rolling it around between his two fingers, the nail of his thumb slightly digging in.

“Please,” Isak whines, one hand already moving down towards his dick before he remembers and grabs onto the pillows. “Please.”

Even tuts and changes his rhythm from quick and hard to pressing in as far as he can before grinding. Isak throws his head back from the feel of it and one of his hands fly to hold onto the wrist of the hand Even is using to play with his nipple.

“I already said no, Isak.” Even’s voice makes hot shame fill him up and he starts to writhe from the feel of it.

“Sorry,” Isak breathes, moans when Even finally angles his hips up a bit and starts grinding against his spot. “I just need-“

“You don’t, though,” Even interrupts, suddenly pulling out before thrusting in with a hard jab.

Even keeps with the short thrusts, pushing Isak further up the bed each time. Isak’s hand is scrambling to hold onto something, the other has Even’s wrist in a tight vice, even though that keeps his hand pressed to his nipple, which definitely isn’t helping with not coming already like a prepubescent teen.

Even’s slowly leaning down over Isak, his hips speeding up for every inch he gets closer until his chest is pressed against his, hips moving in a fast pace, making Isak clench and unclench involuntarily.

“I already told you,” Even whispers, Isak can’t take his eyes off of him, “you don’t need it. I decide what you need and when you need it.”

Isak can hear Even’s groans despite how loud he’s moaning himself. He can hear Even’s hips slap against his ass, he can feel how quickly Even’s moving, how deeply, the wet sounds the lube makes. His body lightens up every time he presses against his spot, and he can see his dick drooling against his stomach, giving these forceful twitches that Isak hopes will rub against Even’s stomach, give him some relief finally, but Even seems to have a sixth sense or a natural connection to his dick, because he manages to move away every single time, and Isak’s pretty sure he could cry from how much he wants to come right now

“Look at you,” Even says, eyes skimming over Isak’s body to his red lips to his eyes, close to watering, “that’s what I mean. You don’t need me to touch you. You’re already so close, aren’t you?”

Isak feels his dick strain harder for every word Even says and can’t help but fuck his hips down onto Even’s dick, uncoordinated with Even’s thrusts.

“I can see it, you know. Feel it. Feel how you’re clenching for it, how your body’s begging for it,” and Isak can’t really be blamed for pulling his boyfriend down by the neck, messily pressing his lips against his, gasping for breath every time they let go of each other.

But the distraction only works for so long, and soon Even is moving his head to the side, by his jaw, and starts sucking harshly on the skin of his neck. The pressure of it stings, but it only adds to all the other sensations Isak is feeling right now.

“You always look so good like this,” Even groans against his neck, his breath tickling Isak’s skin. “But you also look so good when you’re coming for me.”

Isak feels like his orgasm is ripped out of him. The incessant pounding of Even’s hips and his dick inside him, his entire body feels oversensitive and he ends up letting out a high-pitched moan. All of it feels too good and he thinks he’s telling Even all of it, or he might just be babbling for all he knows.

It’s not until his body is trying to calm down that he notices Even didn’t come.

“Huh?” Isak questions, but any coherent thought slips from his mind when Even’s thrusting picks up again.

Isak isn’t sure whether he’s trying to grab onto Even to pull him further in or if he’s trying to push him away.

“Too much, too much,” he keeps mumbling, grabs onto Even’s hair and pulls it to make him listen.

Even groans and presses in deep inside Isak and holds himself there for a second. His eyes are closed as if he’s concentrating really hard and is slightly in pain, and Isak would usually be more worried, except Even is still buried deep inside him and he can’t really do anything than let out these small, hurt noises.

For a moment Isak thinks Even will pull out, but then he opens his eyes, lips moving firmly over his while his hips start to piston in and out of him.

Isak isn’t sure whether he moans, whines or whimpers, he can’t think past the oversensitivity he’s feeling. His dick hasn’t even had the time to go soft despite the fact that Even still hasn’t touched him.

“One more,” Even breathes against his lips. He has to repeat it a few times before Isak understands what he’s saying.

He makes another soft noise when he does.

That isn’t something they’ve really done before. Sure, they’ve had sex more than once a day, but there had always been a refractory period where they’d nap or eat before they’d go again.

No more than once in a row.

Isak whines when another jab hits him just right, making another spark of arousal singe through his body, pre-cum starting to spurt from his tip once more.

“What’s… gotten… into you?” Isak manages to question. He leans his head up to hide against Even’s neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his boyfriend, his sweat and sex.

“Well, I’ve certainly gotten into you.”

Isak isn’t sure whether he groans because of fucking Even or from Even still fucking him, because it hurts, it really does, but he still hasn’t gone soft, and his body is writhing underneath Even before he’s made to be still.

But Even can tell Isak won’t let this go, and there’s only so long until he’s asking about it again, so Even slows his hips down to long, deep thrusts, the first few of them push out more whimpers from Isak before he gets slightly more used to them.

“That conversation, at lunch,” Even says through his teeth, nosing at Isak’s jaw, his hands roaming up and down his sides before settling on his upper thighs wrapped around his waist. “Having to hear them talk about me only making you come once. Having to hear about you not needing to come more than once.”

Even’s moving so slowly now it’s almost bearable and Isak’s vaguely able to make out mildly coherent thoughts.

“What, so you’re doing this because a girl came more than once with Jo-nas?” his voice breaks as Even gives a hard thrust, making Isak gasps and dig his nails into Even’s back. His entire body’s singing from lit nerves, and he’s still not sure if it still hurts or if it’s turning good again.

“Don’t say another man’s name whilst you’re in bed with me,” Even fucking growls and picks up a hard pace.

Isak thinks he’s letting out more moans than whimpers now, he can’t quite tell. Can’t quite think of anything except of how his body’s squirming and Even’s dick and Even entirely.

“But-“ Isak interrupts himself with a squeak when Even bites down into his shoulder, “she was a girl.”

Even huffs. “So?” and then his eyes are turning dangerously dark and Isak immediately knows he’s going to regret saying that.

He’s right. Even leans in until their noses are pressed together. Isak tries to lean up to get a kiss, but Even’s suddenly grabbing onto his hair, pulling his head back hard, the other hand going back to playing with his nipple.

“Did I not just make you come untouched, too?” Even asks, and Isak knows he’s whimpering, but he can’t focus on anything that isn’t Even. “Are you saying that were I,” his hand is slowly moving down from his nipple, nails dragging against his skin, “to touch you here,” his fingers are ghosting over the head of Isak’s dick, dark red and sensitive and already twitching from having Even’s fingers in the near proximity, “just rub you over the head, it wouldn’t be the same as touching a clit?”

Isak’s legs are shaking from where they’re wrapped around Even’s waist. He can almost feel how much it would hurt to have Even touch him right now, but also how much he wants it, can feel himself leaking from wanting it. He can’t keep his eyes open to see himself spurting up his chest, can’t do anything but whine as his body hits the peak again, not really having gone down. He hears Even’s groan, though, before Even’s sitting up, taking a few deep breaths.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

Isak’s too busy trying to catch his breath to do much else. Even’s still moving inside him, almost as if he can’t control it himself.

“Four times, though,” Isak says, huffing out a laugh like he can't believe he's agreeing to this, and Even’s got him.

His pace is picking up again, and Isak tries to grab onto his hips to slow him down.

“Give me a few seconds, please,” he mumbles, trying to focus on Even.

Even has all of his attention on Isak, but he’s obviously not stopping. “Nuh-uh,” he replies before folding Isak’s legs over his shoulders, leaning down and folding Isak in half, before he starts piston his hips.

Everything’s too fucking much. Isak feels everything, he’s too sensitive. He feels every thread of their now quite clammy sheets against his back, feels the pillow rub against his ear whenever Even thrusts in, feels how his body is begging to let himself go soft, but he can’t, not when Even’s giving it to him so well, hitting him exactly where it’s so good, but god, it hurts and he’s loving it.

He feels like he’s in a daze. All he can focus on is Even, his kisses, him inside of him, the soft whispers, “You look so good like this, completely fucked out. Gonna keep you like this forever, keep you in our bed, full of me, always going to be full of me, love being inside of you, you feel so good, you know? So hot and wet, you look so good just for me. Taking it so well, so beautiful. Gonna make you come all of the time, you look so beautiful when you do. Gonna have you come simply from me fucking you, don’t even need me to touch you, you like it so much.”

Isak thinks he cries out when he comes again, he’s not really sure, but he thinks he must have. Thinks he probably hasn’t been able to keep his mouth shut the entire time. All he really hears is Even mumbling, “that’s three,” as he slows down a bit, instead rolling his hips, grinding in deeply.

Isak gasps when he pushes against his spot again, hands flying down and grabbing onto Even’s ass, trying to pull him in even further.

“Yeah, always want to be inside you,” Even murmurs, bringing Isak’s legs back down around his waist before pulling out a bit, only to push in harshly.

Isak thinks he sobs as Even hits the small nub inside of him. It’s too much, too much, too much. He doesn’t think he can come again, barely anything came out last time, and he feels all three loads going cold and tacky on his stomach and chest, yet his cock keeps drooling whenever Even pushes himself inside of him, holding in deeply before pulling out and repeating.

He thinks he’s saying something, Even’s name, keeps repeating it, can’t think of anything else. All he sees is Even looking down at him, mouth slack and eyes dazed and dark as he groans his name back.

“Do you even know what you do to me?” Even asks, giving another well-aimed thrust, sending jolts of pleasure or pain or both, Isak can’t tell anymore, throughout Isak’s body. “Do you know how hard it is not to come inside of you? Want to so badly, but I want you to come even more. Can you do that, baby? Can you come for me?”

Isak starts to cry, can’t keep the tears from rolling down his eyes, because he doesn’t know, he didn’t think he’d be able to come the last two times either, but he wants to, so badly, because Even wants him to, and he’ll do anything Even wants him to do.

So Isak does the only thing he thinks can make him come. He tells Even, “Go faster.”

Suddenly everything stops. Even stops moving, stilling to look down at Isak who’s trying to catch his breath, finally able to now that Even isn’t moving, when he can only feel him inside of him.

Even’s slowly folding himself down onto Isak, lips pressing against his chest, briefly stopping at his nipple to bite down softly, making Isak cry out once more.

“Please, please, please, please,” he can’t help but beg, can’t help the short abandoned thrusts his own hips are making, not sure if he’s trying to rub his dick off against Even’s stomach, even though he can’t reach, or if he’s trying to fuck himself down onto Even’s dick to get him moving again.

“Faster, huh?” Even asks, pressing a dirty, open-mouthed kiss against Isak’s lips, tongue immediately finding its way into the other’s mouth. Isak’s mouth goes slack as he lets Even do whatever he wants to do with him.

It’s between one breath and the other that Even’s hips suddenly move, faster than any other time, pushing and pushing and pushing and so deep that Isak can’t help but clench down, can’t help but grab onto Even’s ass, pull him further in and to have something to hold onto, except his hands are slipping and sliding over his smooth, sweaty skin, and he can’t help the noises he’s making. He knows he’s being way too loud, but he’s feeling too much and everything is Even. Isak can’t tell how long it’s been, but between one moan and the next, he comes.

“There you go,” Even says, leaning back up and pulls out.

Isak can’t get his breathing under control and he keeps on making those small, hurt whimpers he’s been making for the past however long now. “Fuck.”

Even only laughs at him, running his hands up and down Isak’s thighs, pressing a few kisses against the skin as well.

“Look at you, baby,” Even says fondly, fingers massaging some of the tension in Isak’s legs away, “I can’t help but wonder…” he mumbles, gaze lowering from Isak’s face to his hole before he’s suddenly pushing in again.

“Oh-“ Isak stutters, throwing his head back and forth on the pillow, hands finding nothing but air to grab onto, “oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, no more.”

“One more.”

Isak whines and Even stills at the noise, gently grabbing Isak's face with both hands, making sure he has eyecontact.

"We can stop," Even says and Isak blinks a couple of times before he forces his muscles to clench around Even.

"Want you to come too," Isak mumbles as he tries to get his hands to cooperate, finally grabbing a hold of Even's butt, trying to push him further inside.

Even hips are slowly picking up the pace again and Isak can't help but let out a sob from the stimulation. “One more?”

And Isak nods and relaxes into the bed, letting himself feel.

“One more time, and then I’ll come inside you as well. Huh, baby? Wouldn’t that be nice? Feeling me slowly trickling out of you for the rest of the night. You’ll be so sore tomorrow, gave it to you so good, didn’t I? One more time, baby, for me, then you’re done.”

Isak’s frantically nodding, murmuring a mix of “done” and “Even” and undistinguishable noises. He’s almost feeling so much that he feels disconnected from his own body. Instead he feels how Even’s thighs are shaking from the strain of the speed and keeping the same position for so long and from how close he really is, probably has been for a while now.

He can’t tell how long it takes. Can only see Even, but suddenly his balls are contracting and it feels like he’s coming, except nothing’s coming out and he’s not quite sure if it’s more painful than not.

He almost misses Even’s orgasm, except Even groans so loud Isak thinks they’ll wake up the entire apartment complex, burying himself deep inside of Isak, his head pressing into his neck, biting down on the skin. His thrusts are hard and rough as he rides out his long awaited orgasm, but Isak can’t help but sob and try to curl up from how much it is.

Even comes so much and so hard and Isak can feel all of it inside of him, some of it already trickling out when Even pulls out.

He makes a wounded noise when he suddenly can’t feel Even near him anymore, but then he hears Even shushing him and he feels a washcloth moving between his thighs, up his stomach, and he hears Even’s mindless chatter, how good he is for him, how wonderful he is, came so beautifully and so many times, he’s so proud of him, his sweet boy.

Isak’s still gasping from all of it by the time Even’s laying next to him and pulling him onto his chest.

“So…” Isak mutters against Even’s neck, his mind slowly turning back from the Even-sex-haze it had been in. “All of this… because Jonas made a girl come more than once?”

Even hears how silly it is when Isak says it, but he can’t help but smile fondly down at him, his fingers moving up and down his back, his other hand intertwined with Isak’s.

“I couldn’t let Jonas have the most sexual prowess out of all of us.”

Isak lets out a laugh when he hears that, can already feel sleep taking over.

“Didn’t think about Magnus’ comment about unfair amount of orgasms, then?”

He says it as a joke, but he feels Even stiffens underneath him and he has to lift his head to look at his boyfriend.

Even groans and throws his head back. “Fuck. I’d completely forgotten about that.” He shrugs in a what-can-you-do kind of way, before he slowly grins. “I guess we’ll just have to-“ he says as he starts to roll himself on top of Isak again.


Even only laughs as he settles back against the pillows.

No. Not now, at least.”

Even laughs. “Oh, so you’re willing to do all of this again, then?”

Isak groans. “I literally cannot think right now. You’ve fucked any sensible thoughts I had out of me.”

Even coos at him, the hand he had running up and down his back moving to press his head back down onto his chest. “Come on, baby. Be good and sleep for me.”

Isak does.


“Well, well, well, wonder what went down in the Evak household last night!”

Magnus is looking way too pleased while Jonas and Mahdi have the decency to shake their heads at him, only they’re a bit amused as well.

Even’s looking too proud not to indulge Magnus whilst Isak’s too busy scowling at all of them. Fucking Even and his fucking cock and Isak’s limp is really noticeable, he knows, Even hasn’t been able to keep his hands off of him the entire day because of it.

“Sorry Jonas,” Even says, holding out a chair for Isak which he gingerly sits down on, Jonas looks up nonplussed, “I’m afraid I hold the record for making my partner come the most times untouched.”

All of the boys are way too excited about that piece of information, all asking questions and comments, “Serr?!”, “Hva faen?” and Isak can’t help but groan and look annoyed at all of them as he bears the teasing and intrusive questioning.

Fucking Jonas. And fucking Even, too.

Chapter Text

It all starts after that night.

Isak can’t get it out of his head. Can’t stop thinking about it.

He wouldn’t trade any time they’ve had sex for anything else, all of them were special in their own way, but there was something about that night that Isak can’t stop thinking about but also can’t quite figure out.

The night was amazing in its own levels, but there’s something about it that Isak’s subconscious can’t seem to let go of and Isak can’t figure out what he’s missing. He’s gone over everything Even said, which was enough to make his stomach curl and for him to get an inappropriate boner, the way he felt, the way Even felt, what he saw, what Even would’ve seen, but none of it feels like that’s what’s missing.

Sadly, he never manages to figure it out on his own, no matter how many times they have sex or how many times Isak thinks back on it, even though he keeps looking for it.

He doesn’t figure it out on his own, but then, it clicks.


His locker had been like any other functioning locker since December, so Isak’s not really sure why the demon locker has come back with a vengeance. It must have, though, because it’s not opening right now, fuck, and he’s nearly late for his first class anyway, dammit, Sana will not be impressed.

That’s why he’s not entirely aware of the people bustling around him, meaning when the loud - “Isak!” – is yelled right into his ear by a Magnus who comes at him so fast his entire body smacks into him, he’s caught off-guard, leading the Demon Locker to seize its opportunity to abruptly open right into Isak’s face.

“Ow, fuck!” he yells, jumping back and rubbing his bruised face. “What the fuck?!”

Magnus winces in sympathy. “You ‘lright?”

“Great,” Isak huffs and hurries to grab his books before the locker turns on him again. “What’s up?” he asks as he ruffles through all the lose papers and books in there.

He expects this to be quick, and if it isn’t, Magnus is usually entirely willing to continue the conversation at lunch. That’s why he has to look up when Magnus still hasn’t said anything once several seconds have passed.


Magnus is looking down at his shoes, rubbing the ends together, not doing anything but create scuff marks all over them.

“We’re,” Magnus says, still not looking up, “we’re still meeting at yours after school, right? The four of us?”

Isak finally sees his chemistry book at the bottom of the pile and tries to drag it out without moving the books on top. He’s glancing between his hands and Magnus distraught face, and he’s starting to worry a bit about his friend.

“Yeah? Everything alright?”

Magnus finally looks up but looks anywhere but Isak as he nods. “Yeah, ‘s fine, it’s just…” he says, stops, and doesn’t know where to look anymore that won’t look odd. Isak’s just about to ask him what’s up, when – “Can I bring Vilde?”

And Isak stops. That wasn’t what he was expecting.

Vilde?” he asks in disbelief, but it probably comes out harsher than he meant to because Magnus looks a bit wounded, so Isak hurries to backtrack. “I mean, yeah, ‘s fine, but… do you think she wants to come?”

Their guys’ nights aren’t exactly what Isak thinks Vilde likes doing, with all the FIFA and the messy eating and the occasional smoking; three things Isak is willing to bet money on Vilde doesn’t and hasn’t ever done.

“Well, no,” Magnus admits, finally looking at Isak who can only cock and eyebrow at what’s currently going on, ”so I was wondering if we could make it a bit more… Vilde-friendly, maybe?”

Which makes Isak cock the other eyebrow as well. He even gives up getting his book out simply to fully face Magnus. “Mags, why bring Vilde along to something she wouldn’t like?”

And Magnus is looking down again. “There’s just been some problems,” he mutters and Isak is instantly worried.

“There’s something going on between the two of you? What happened, are you okay-“

“Not us,” Magnus interrupts, even holding his hands up in front of him to signal Isak to slow down, “no, we’re good, there’s just… some problems.”

“And now Isak is just plain confused. “Problems?” he asks, and Magnus nods. “With the girls?” he guesses, but he finds it unlikely. He doesn’t personally keep gossip up to date, but he would’ve heard from Jonas if Eva had told him about the girl squad having issues, or he would’ve noticed Sana being off again, or just anything, really.

Magnus huffs and shakes his head. “No, it’s…” he mumbles as he looks around, checking to see who’s near them and if they’re listening. There’s no one even in their vicinity and everyone’s too wrapped up in their own lives to notice them, but Magnus steps closer anyway, leaning in and lowering his voice. “There’s just some things going on at home, with her mom, and stuff.”

He looks at Isak like he’ll get it, surely he will, but there’s a lot of things that could be wrong at home, some worse than others, so Isak’s not really sure how to react.

He knows why Magnus thinks he’ll get it though. He’s never actually told any of them what happened, but it doesn’t take a lot to assume that “My mom’s stressed” and Isak suddenly moving out and not having any contact with his parents could be two related incidents.

“She’s just,” Magnus tries when Isak doesn’t say anything, “a bit sad, right now. I thought it might help to get her out and around some other people than just the girls.”

“Why not the girls, though? Surely they’d be able to help her more?” Isak questions even though Magnus is giving him clear signals that he doesn’t feel comfortable talking about Vilde like this.

“They don’t know,” and fuck, if Isak doesn’t understand that, “or, Chris knows, or, at least has guessed some of it, I don’t know. Vilde’s just… she’s just a bit sad, right now,” he repeats and finally looks Isak in the eyes.

Isak’s slow to nod, but when he does it, he’s sure. “Yeah, sure, bring her around. We can go grocery shopping? Make sure she has something to eat as well? We don’t really have anything healthy in right now and not a lot of things to make something from scratch.”

Magnus looks like he might tear up from how grateful he feels.

It’s worth being ten minutes late and with a bruised hand caused by a second attack by the Demon Locker.


A bit sad” doesn’t exactly cover what Isak thinks Vilde is.

If Isak hadn’t met Vilde prior to this day, he would’ve thought she was mute. A very sad, mute girl.

She hasn’t said anything since the very quiet greeting she gave them when they met in the school yard and she hasn’t strayed from her place under Magnus arm.

Isak gets it – she must feel a bit out of her depth, being in a group of people where she’s really only close to one of them. They’re trying their best to make her feel welcome, though, and perhaps cheer her up a bit.

Jonas and Mahdi have resorted to acting like idiots as they peruse the shop, trying to get Vilde to smile or laugh, but she mostly only looks down or at Magnus. Isak walks alongside the couple with the basket and points out various snacks he knows to be on the healthier side. They’ve already got a package of pre-cut fruits in the basket and other bits and bobs Isak and Even are missing, but Vilde’s very careful about declining all the things Isak points out, and Isak can tell Magnus gets sadder with every shake of her head.

“Oh, come on, you love those fruity-nut bars, remember? My mom had them in last time you came around,” Magnus tries and nudges her closer to his side.

Isak can see Vilde is blushing in embarrassment of being called out on how she’s acting.

“They’re really expensive,” Isak can barely hear her whisper into Magnus’ shoulder. Magnus is starting to look both desperate and desperately sad.

“They do look really good,” Isak interrupts, startling Vilde out of her hiding place, wide eyes locked on him. “I’d quite like to try some of them; do you know which ones are good?”

He’s already grabbing onto some, too busy trying to see if this tactic works better to see what’s he’s holding. He glances – yuck, prunes – and really hopes Vilde doesn’t like those.

“They’re quite good with raspberry,” she finally mutters, and Isak lets go of the prunes, internally letting out a relieved breath, thank fuck, and grabs a handful of the raspberry-oat bars. He grabs a couple with blueberry as well, just in case, and then they move on, Vilde now even more determined to stare at the floor.

Magnus does give Isak a subtle, appreciative nod. Isak doesn’t comment on it, only asks her if she knows of those kale chips Even’s always raving about. She doesn’t, so they read the information given on them, and Isak doesn’t think they look too bad by Vilde’s standard so he throws a packet into the basket.

He makes sure to grab regular crisps as well, though; as he’s sure his and the guys’ systems would stop and go into shock from all of the healthy food.

Magnus manages to sneak Vilde away along with Mahdi, leaving Jonas and Isak to pay. They haven’t bought much and most of it Isak needed to get anyway, so he ends up paying for all of it. The only problem is Magnus had done it in the most unsubtle way possible (“Vilde, look, the outside!”) and Mahdi’s following snort hadn’t helped much, Isak can see, from the way Vilde is looking slightly humiliated as she walks besides Magnus back to Isak’s apartment.

Isak carries the two bags all the way back, and by the time he sets them down on the kitchen counter, his arms are aching from the weight, but he hadn’t wanted to bring attention to the amount they’d actually bought.

Usually they’d be eating out of the bags and packages without second thought, but Isak once helped Eva get ready for a get-together with the girls and helped her put all of the snacks into their own bowls, so he makes use of all of the bowls they’ve got scattered around in their cupboards.

“What are you doing?” Jonas whispers to him when he comes to help.

Isak only sends him a look. “A Vilde-friendly meal.”

He probably should’ve tried to make something from scratch, but Even’s the cook and Isak doesn’t know any recipes that aren’t unbelievably unhealthy.

Which leads them to the awkward situation they’re currently finding themselves in.

They’re all situated around the small table, having brought over the chair by the dresser and the two from their balcony, fitting everyone around a too small space. Vilde isn’t talking and she’s barely eating from where she’s still tucked under Magnus’ arm.

The boys are all trying to pretend not to notice and not to bother her about it from the pleading look Magnus sent them in the beginning when Mahdi kept trying to get her to eat.

So now they’re just talking, about this and that. All of them are a bit tense both from an unfamiliar situation and worrying about Vilde.

Certain topics are off-limit (they don’t ever talk about girls in an inferior way, but Jonas and Mahdi usually give out pretty explicit details about the girls they’ve hooked up with, and they’ve all silently agreed to that topic not being “Vilde-friendly”), and Isak knows she’s a gossip (although one with no bad intentions behind) so he’s not exactly keen on saying anything about him and Even, even though he doubts it’d get further than the girls.

Jonas has just gone off on a tirade about capitalism which none of them had anything to contribute to, so it was much more of a monologue than anything else.

No one’s really saying anything now, though, which is why they all look up in shock when Vilde finally says something.

“That’s… quite clever,” she mutters, eyes wide and unsure, and Isak is suddenly thrown back to a night with a drunk Eva, who was reminiscing about her relationship with Jonas back in first year, and how she sometimes felt so stupid around him.

Looking at Vilde now, he thinks she might feel the same way.

Maybe Mahdi thinks so as well, because he suddenly changes the topic to a shallower and much more dangerous subject.

“Yo, did you see Silje today? She looked great!” He says it with too much enthusiasm; even if she’s the only girl he’s hooked up with the past three parties.

It isn’t exactly a very open question, either, and also considering the circumstances, Magnus won’t say anything and Isak doesn’t have anything to say. And for once, Jonas’ iceberg of opinions doesn’t surface as the only thing he says is “yeah.”

And thus, they’re back to silence.

“She’s got a new highlighter,” Vilde says, finally looking up.

She’s quick to switch back to down again, though, once she sees how all the boys are looking at her questioningly.

“Highlighter?” Mahdi asks cautiously, and Vilde looks up again.

“Yes. You know, for contouring?”

Obviously, they don’t know.

Vilde, though, finally leans a little bit away from Magnus, becoming her own person again, as she finally feels a bit more confident about the topic.

“It’s all about defining your facial structure, so you’d use darker and brighter colors to create shadow and light,” she rambles at a high tempo.

“Girls do that?” Magnus asks, giving Vilde all his attention now that she’s finally talking.

“Well, some do. I don’t, it’s quite expens-“ Vilde trails off and clears her throat. “Anyway, Silje was making a big deal out of it because she got it from a quite expensive brand. She started using it this Monday.”

“Makeup’s clever that way,” Isak says and takes a sip of his beer. “You know, how it enhances what’s already there.”

To be honest, he hasn’t really spent much time thinking about makeup, except for the few times he watched Eva or Sara put it on and had thought what a waste of time it was, but if talking about makeup could help Vilde a little bit then so be it.

He didn’t expect it to work so well, though.

Vilde practically lights up when she asks, “Yeah? Would you like to try some?”

And the world screeches to a halt around the small, white table as Isak processes her question.

“What?” Isak asks, trying to keep his facial expression neutral.

Which obviously wasn’t the response Vilde was expecting as she physically recoils.

“I just,” she stammers, all vide eyes, “I just thought since you’re gay, you know, that maybe you’d like…” she veers off herself as Isak tries to take a few calming breaths.

He’s close to exploding, he knows he is, too much pent up anger from classmates giving him an extra look and strangers shouting at him and Even to not be angry about Vilde’s comment. But Magnus is looking at him pleadingly and Jonas and Mahdi are both worried and Isak has to remind himself that this is Vilde; completely offensive with no malice, and she’s currently incredibly sad.

She isn’t trying to be hateful; he has to remind himself, as he thinks of what he told Sana. If he’s looking for hate, he’ll find it, and there’s no hate here.

“Vilde,” he begins, slightly annoyed and not sure how to continue. Vilde’s slowly molding herself back into Magnus.

“Okay,” he says, leaning back. “Vilde, why do you wear makeup?”

Which, once again, clearly wasn’t where Vilde thought this was going. “Huh?”

“Why do you wear makeup?” Isak repeats leaning towards her.

She shakes her head. “I- I don’t know, I like it?” framing it like a question rather than an answer.

But Isak’s only nodding at her. “Exactly, you like it. You like how it looks on you, you like how you feel when you wear it,” he pauses, giving her time to agree. “You don’t wear it, however, simply because you like boys.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “What’s that got to do with…”

“It’s got to do with,” Isak interrupts, “that being gay means that I like boys. It doesn’t mean that I have a certain personality, or I suddenly like different things than Jonas or Mahdi or Magnus, and it doesn’t mean I wear makeup. It just means that I like boys.”

Vilde’s not meeting his eyes anymore as she looks down to the table, but he can see that the guys look relieved at Isak not blowing up on her. He even feels a little bit proud of how he reacted, and he wonders what Eskild would’ve thought.

He can’t help but think back to that one night, where he had also been quite sad in general and full of fear as he told Eskild that he had a thing with Even, and ended up being so afraid of what that would mean to other people, that he ended up showing Eskild how much he contributed to keeping the stereotypes alive.

Back then, he’d only felt ashamed once Eskild had called him out on it, but now he can’t help but be grateful, as he does with everything Eskild does and has done for him.

He honestly thought he handled it quite well; he didn’t shout, he didn’t swear, he only sat there calmly and tried to explain to Vilde that it was a wrong assumption to make that gay people like to wear makeup because they’re gay.

He didn’t mean to make her cry, though.

Vilde’s quietly sniffling and Magnus hurries to pull her closer and ask her what’s wrong.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice is shaky and seems to have a magnetic pull on all of the boys as they can’t help but crowd around her. “I keep messing up, I don’t- I don’t mean to say such stupid things-“

“Hey hey hey,” Isak interrupts, leaning across the table. “You didn’t mean any harm with it, right?” and she hurries to shake her head.

“Sometimes we just say the wrong things, okay, it’s okay, you’re just really sad right now,” Magnus says, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. Vilde sniffs and scrunches up her the sleeve of her sweater to try and dry her eyes that are slightly runny with her mascara.

“Oh, here,” Isak says, pushing his chair back so he can get to the Kleenex they keep around the flat.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs as she accepts it. “I’m sorry,” she repeats, not looking at any of them.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jonas says as Mahdi says there’s nothing to be sorry for.

“I just,” she says, not taking her eyes off of the now dirty Kleenex she’s folding and unfolding in her hands. “I always say the stupidest things without realizing – like the whole thing with Sana, and now you,” she says, gesturing to Isak.

Isak sits back down. “Sana,” he says, thinking back to spring when everything had suddenly burst out of Sana. “Sana gets a lot of hate, you know that, right?”

It makes her look up at him, but she also looks quite surprised, so maybe she hadn’t quite realized how bad Sana’s got it.

“Whether it’s teachers or classmates or strangers on the streets yelling at her or staring at her, she gets a lot of really mean comments about her believing in something bigger and wearing a scarf,” Isak tries to explain. “And having to hear all of that, it makes her so incredibly angry, because all of it is unjustified, right? And so at some point of the day, you might say something along the lines of all of those people.”

Vilde’s looking down again.

“You don’t mean it the same way, you might be worried about her, or something else entirely, the hell do I know, but hearing the same comment come from someone she loves with her entire heart, now that hurts more than all of those strangers.”

He thinks it’s the last comment that makes her tear up again.

“I think you should talk to Sana,” Isak advices, “even though I doubt she thinks you’re doing it to be mean or anything like that, I think it would help you as well.”

It takes a while before she nods in agreement and dries her eyes once more.

She doesn’t look up from the Kleenex in her hand as she inspects how much black has come off.

“I’ll just,” she says, as she moves to stand, “go freshen up a bit.”

She heads towards the front door where they had all dumped the backpacks when they came there and starts to root around for her makeup bag.

The boys are all sitting there silently, and this time it only feels incredibly more awkward than before, so when Vilde finally turns around with the bag, Isak’s already made up his mind.

“Vilde,” he says, startling her a bit as she clutches the bag to her chest, “would you like to do my makeup?”

Everyone is silent for a few beats too long before Vilde asks, with disbelief clear in her voice, “really?”

Isak nods and tries to look enthusiastic as he moves to sit cross-legged in the middle of the bed instead, patting the space right in front of him to make her sit down as well. “Sure, who knows, maybe it suits me.”

Vilde hesitates as she sits down, not sure if Isak’s doing this to have a laugh or how he’ll react if she goes along with it.

“Maybe he’ll look less ugly,” Mahdi throws in and suddenly they’re all a bit less tense.

Vilde’s carefully laying out products on the bed as the boys being to quietly talk over by the table.

“So,” Isak says sitting up straight and throwing on a grin. “What’s first?”

Makeup really hadn’t ever been something Isak had thought about from long periods of time, and even though he’s really only doing this to make Vilde feel a bit better, he doesn’t hate it.

“Just be careful not to get any on the sheets,” Isak murmurs as Vilde daps something cold and sticky onto his face, “we don’t really have a spare at the moment. What even is that?”

“Concealer,” she says as she screws the stick back shut. “It’s to cover your spots and the bags under your eyes.”

Isak laughs. “Good lord, I might even look healthy and alive when you’re done with me!”

In hindsight, the comment is really only a happy way to talk about something incredibly sad, but it startles a small laugh out of Vilde, so Isak stops himself from thinking about it too much.

Instead he makes her talk about all of the stuff she’s putting on his face, making her say the name, what she’s doing with it, asking her time and time again if he’s beautiful yet, to which Jonas never fails to yell “always” and Mahdi to say “not yet.”

It’s nothing extreme she’s doing, keeping things to the minimum, making Jonas say that his boy doesn’t need any makeup to be beautiful, making Isak laugh so hard he nearly cries, until Vilde scolds him not to.

“Look what will happen,” she says and points to herself, “a panda-face, that’s what,” and Isak can see the last tension seep out of Magnus from the corner of his eye.

It’s banter, and it’s fun, and it’s Isak looking up and down and to the sides and opening his mouthing, closing it, and removing lip-gloss from his teeth before Vilde says she’s done.

The boys all scramble to look and Isak lies down on the bed, carefully trying not to disturb any of the makeup, as he tries to pose.

Isak puckers his lips and bats his eyes as the boys all tell Vilde how well she’s done (“he doesn’t even look ugly anymore,” as Mahdi so wonderfully comments), but all of it manages to brighten Vilde up.

“Would you like to see?” she asks Isak, getting up from the bed and trying to drag him to the bathroom before he’s even replied.

He laughs as he stumbles after her right until he’s in front of the mirror and turning on the lights, because this-

This is what he had been missing.

‘Not ugly’ doesn’t even begin to cover how Isak feels right now.

It really isn’t a lot Vilde’s put on him, but all of it makes up the entire picture and Isak can’t help but feel overwhelmed.

The acne that had recently broken out across his forehead it completely gone, leaving him with smooth, pale skin, and his eyes look bigger and greener than usual, now thick, black eyelashes framing them and the darker eye shadow defining everything.

The lip-gloss is almost nude on him; only making his lips a tiny bit redder, but it enhances his cupid’s bow and has an almost glowing finish. He can’t help but dart the tip of his tongue out to feel it, leaving him with a sweet, fruity taste he wasn’t expecting.

“It’s strawberry flavored,” Vilde explains, obviously having seen what he did, which makes Isak blush.

He can’t look away. He looks soft and pretty and his heart aches.

He’s suddenly thrown back into the real world as Vilde quietly and worriedly asks him, “do you like it?”

Isak jolts up when he hears it, but he can’t quite bring himself to look away. “You did amazingly, you know that? I look fantastic.”

“You do look quite pretty, don’t you?” she asks and Isak shudders from the word. Pretty. “I haven’t got any makeup remover with me, though, so it might be a bit hard to get it off, warm water should be more helpful.”

Isak’s not quite listening. Pretty. He looks pretty, he looks – His stomach flutters and he’s not quite sure why he’s suddenly thinking of the night but he can’t get the thought out of his mind now.


“Make sure to tell me what Even thinks of it,” Vilde says as she and the boys get ready to leave, and that makes Isak feels like he’s been punched in the stomach.


He goes to look at himself a bit more once he’s locked the door after them. He can’t quite seem to look away, and he barely dares to touch in case he messes it up.

He doesn’t keep it on for Even to see when he gets home.

For some reason, even though it feels so right, it suddenly feels utterly wrong when he thinks of Even coming home to his boyfriend with a face full of makeup. It makes his skin crawl and eyes water and so he ends up debating with himself whether to take a picture of it to remember how he feels when he looks at himself, or if to just wash it off.

In the end, he doesn’t dare have any evidence on his phone, just in case Even ever decided to scroll through his gallery.

He feels like crying when he sees himself in the mirror, skin rubbed raw from how hard he scrubbed to ensure that everything was removed.

Even doesn’t notice anything’s up, of course he wouldn’t, probably would never think that his boyfriend just less than an hour earlier had felt so ashamed of himself feeling… something different.

Isak can’t help but think about it, though, when the clock has just turned a quarter past three in the night and he’s lying on a sleeping Even, head rising every time Even breathes as he listens to the steady beating of his heart.



He can’t get the thoughts out of his head.

He wonders if this is how Even felt when he told him about not being able to escape your thoughts or your brain.

He’s quiet and frustrated the following week, and of course Even picks up on it and tries to get Isak to talk, but Isak’s still not quite sure what’s wrong and how all of this ties up, so he ends up shutting Even down by going down on him (a quite effective strategy when he wants it to be).

But it doesn’t help him figure out what’s going on.

It doesn’t help that he spent the majority of the entire week freaking out about the guys telling Even what had happened, but the only mention had been the next day when Magnus had thanked them for letting Vilde tag along.

That still doesn’t stop his heart from pounding wildly every time the guys, girls or Even walk up to him.

He’s so… He doesn’t know – overwhelmed? He’s so out of his depth with all of the thoughts buzzing around in his head in no particular order, and he doesn’t even feel relieved that he finally figured out what he had been missing since the nightpretty – he just feels utterly ashamed and he doesn’t know where to turn to.

Technically, he knows he has loads of people who’d gladly talk to him and not make fun of him for being afraid or liking what he does, hell, he’s living with one and has lived with one. But the thought of saying any of the words out loud makes him sweat and heart race and leaves him with a want to just cry underneath his covers, safe at home.

He knows there’s nothing wrong with a guy wearing makeup – it doesn’t make him girly and it’s certainly not what makes him gay. But the thought of wearing makeup makes him feel like he’s giving in to society’s limiting stereotype about homosexual boys. He knows that’s not what would happen, but it still feels like it. It also feels like the world has gone topsy-turvy on him, because he’d been so certain what he was like, what person he’d become, and all of that being ripped away from him leaves him uncertain and scared.

So, there being no person he wants to turn to, he decides to use Google as he’s lying in bed, waiting for Even to come home from his afternoon class.

But after nearly two weeks of repressing what it is he wants, he suddenly can’t find the words to search. What should he search – makeup? Guy wearing makeup?

He doesn’t dare search for the last one just in case he finds something rude – the anonymous internet isn’t always the best when you find yourself to be unsure of something or yourself. Instead he pulls up a thesaurus and ends up browsing all of the synonyms for ‘pretty’, not daring to search it himself.

All of it feels wrong – beautiful, elegant, handsome – and it’s not what he’s looking for, not exactly, so he just ends up clicking all of these different words until he finally stumbles over something.


His heart aches and his stomach is digging into itself and Isak’s fingers tremble as he pulls up Google. It’s like his fingertips sense even more in this moment as they glide over the four keys needed.

S – o – f – t, he slowly glides his fingers over the mousepad, search, images.

And he comes face-to-face with a pillow. Isak feels his stomach drop in disappointment. A pillow wasn’t exactly what he feels a need to be, and the feathers surrounding it, although definitely soft-looking, aren’t helping him either.

It’s mostly pictures of flowers and soft colors swirling into each other, and yes, they’re definitely pretty and soft, and maybe the thought of the scent of flowers are a bit appealing, Isak feels like they’re more of a sidetrack than his main search-goal.

He scrolls down and doesn’t really find anything of interest, until-

Right in the middle of a screen is a woman, definitely a woman even though you can only see her legs and hips from the side, stretched over her skin is a pair of lacey, dark grey panties and Isak feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest. He can’t take his eyes off of them – how soft they look, how the color looks. He’s starting to sweat.

Isak forces his eyes to look at some of the other pictures, his heart not calming one bit as he looks at more flowers and feathers, until suddenly there’s another woman, this time with thigh-highs and Isak ends up closing his computer screen shut from the shock.

Isak leans his head back into the wall, hitting it a bit too hard not to wince, as he tries to get his breathing back under control. None of it makes sense in his head; everything’s too jumbled and he doesn’t know for how long he stares into his ceiling, trying to force himself to calm down.

Several minutes pass before he even dares to look at his laptop – still closed – sitting innocently in his lap.

He has to open it – he knows he does, Even knows his password and a picture of thigh-highs isn’t really what Isak wants Even to find the next time he can’t be bothered to look for his own.

His hands are shaking and his palms are sweaty, sliding over the edge of the computer before he finally manages to open the screen back up. It takes him nearly a minute to type in his password, misspelling it twice before it unlocks and shows him the picture again.

He decidedly does not look at it, only follows the mouse to close the tab.

He spends the next couple of minutes just breathing, trying to calm himself down as he stares at the thesaurus page still open.


Isak closes his eyes and rubs them, trying to clear them of anything that might soon be leaking (he’s not crying, he’s not) before he thinks might as well.

The result is a lot of pictures of women, nothing but, really, and there’s a part deep in Isak’s brain that’s curling up in shame of wanting to be pretty when it’s clearly something a woman is.

Isak tries to push that part away. There’s nothing wrong with looking at this, he tries to convince himself.

He clicks at a few of the picture, scrolling through others. There are so many different ones – some don’t have makeup at all, other are bright and colorful, some wear a more “nude look” as Vilde called it, which are the ones Isak is definitely more mesmerized with.

He clicks one of the pictures of a girl with a quite soft look, holding up a couple of palettes with different types of makeup. Google links him to a YouTube video and Isak sits there with the mouse hovering over the link before he makes the decision.

Isak nearly throws the computer away from him as he hurries to get off the bed. Yes, he might have decided to watch the damn video, but not without wearing headphones, even though he’s home alone and there’s nearly twenty-five more minutes until Even’s class is done, let alone the time he takes to pack up and actually get home.

The neighbors might hear, Isak irrationally thinks to himself, knowing he’d never even dare play a video like that loud enough for anyone to hear.

He sits down on the bed and pulls the laptop into his lap once again before plucking in the headphones and pressing the link.

As he figured, it’s a tutorial on how to get “a soft, romantic look” and god, Isak didn’t know he was able to sweat this much.

It’s obviously a beginner’s tutorial as the girl is explaining every brand and recommending other brands and showing which brushes to go for and how to apply the product, and Isak can’t remove his eyes from everything she’s doing.

It’s not that big of a transformation she undergoes, but Isak quite likes that, that it’s not necessary to wear that much product and still be able to look soft and pretty.

He can’t help but run his fingertips of his lips as she applies lip-gloss, still remembering the slightly tacky feel it had had, reminiscing about how his lips had shined like the girl’s now do in the video.

Isak’s startled out of it when he pocket starts vibrating from a text from Even saying he’ll be home in five minutes.

Isak nearly throws himself at his computer to close down the window before opening up his browsing history and deleting all of the evidence and packing his computer away into his school bag.

His heart is still pounding as he goes to greet Even at the front door, only giving him pecks instead of pressing him up against the door as he usually would in case Even would question his too fast heartbeat.


“Are you okay?” Jonas asks, startling Isak out of the downward spiral his head was currently sliding down.

“Yeah,” his voice is shaky and cracks and Isak mentally cringes, “why?”

Jonas gives him a look but then shakes his head and turns back to Magnus and Mahdi.

Isak’s heart is pounding and he ends up laughing a beat too late because he didn’t notice the guys were talking.

Fuck, he needs to sort this out.

“You’re high-strung,” Jonas finally says as they go get their books for the next class. “That’s how I know something’s bothering you. You’re stuck in your head.”

Isak hides his face from Jonas’s view by covering it up with his locker that still doesn’t open smoothly. “I’m fine, man.”

He can hear Jonas’ sigh even though the halls are filled with loud teenagers all having something to say to each other.

Isak only looks up when he feels Jonas standing too close to him.

“Here,” Jonas mutters and pushes a small package into Isak’s pocket. “I know you don’t really smoke because of Even, but it might help.”

Jonas eyebrows are furrowed and Isak sees he’s trying to hide his worry with a small smile.

“I’m fine,” Isak whispers, but it sounds wrong even to himself and he knows Jonas doesn’t believe him either.

“Figure out what’s going on in the head of yours and then come see me, okay? Or Even, whatever you want,” Jonas says as he’s backing up, finally turning around and heading to his class.

Isak feels like crying again. Fuck.

He doesn’t look at the package before he’s at home, the door locked and Even not to arrive until six o’clock when he gets off from serving at Kaffebrenneriet. It’s weed, of course it is – not a whole lot, just enough for a short blunt, but definitely enough that Isak would feel lose in his limps and mind.

He knows why Jonas is worried – Isak sees it in the mirror every day, how the bags underneath his eyes are growing again and how sluggish he is in his movements from the lack of sleep.

He needs this.

He throws open every window in the small flat and then goes to sit on their tiny balcony, his feet resting on Even’s chair as he uses the table to roll it up.

It’s been so long that he barely remembers where his lighter is and he ends up having to use the matches Even usually uses for lighting candles.

He loses his mind between one inhale and the next, finally sinking into the chair as he stares at the sky. He’s not high, per se, but he’s definitely loose-limbed and feels a lot more open to think about what’s wrong.

It’s not that he doesn’t know what the problem is – has known it all along, it not having changed much from when he was still in the closet, hiding from everyone around him.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be pretty and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to wear makeup, Isak just never thought that he was that kind of person who’d like those things, and it feels a bit like that time he went skateboarding with Jonas and wanted to impress him but instead lost control and fell off, breaking his wrist. It feels like when the board suddenly rolled out from under him and for a moment he was left falling.

Wanting to wear makeup is not what makes me gay, Isak has to think to himself several times, hoping at one point his brain will fully understand and accept. Liking boys is what makes me gay, nothing else.

He’s nearly done with the entire blunt before he lets himself thinks back to the night.

It’s not often he thinks back to it, his stomach always churning nervously whenever he does, but right now his mind can’t remember why it’s not a good idea to think back.

He doesn’t get further than Even telling him to be good before going to town with his tongue before Isak finds himself beginning to leak in his underwear and he whines as his brain suddenly realizes how hard he is.

He nearly whips his dick out right there until a strong breeze suddenly hits him, and he realizes he’s still sitting on his balcony, very much in public, and while he’s always been a little bit of an exhibitionist at heart, this isn’t something he wants to do outside.

He has to press down on himself and whines at the barely present relief as he closes the door and the windows of the flat before finally letting himself fall down onto his back on the bed, sneaking his hand underneath the front of his jeans.

I’d say sorry, but you’re not being very good right now,” and Isak’s toes curls from the memory of the shame he’d felt when Even had said that, he’s hand curling around his aching flesh, body shuttering as he finally glides up and down.

It’s not often he touches himself, doesn’t really need to as he and Even are very much in love and definitely sexually active, but right now his mind is floating and he can’t imagine not doing this.

His pants are too restricting, however, so he huffs and sighs as he has to stop touching to get them off, throwing his briefs and shirt off as well so it’s done with, before letting himself sink into the pillows and just lets himself feel.

He remembers how Even opened him up, slowly sliding his fingers in and out, teasing Isak before finally giving him what he wanted, Isak’s dick releasing a spurt of pre-come from remembering how it felt, his hand gliding up and down faster.

He plays all of it out – how Even slowly pressed in when he was open, how he’d kept him from touching his dick-

Isak’s eyes shoot open – that had been the entire point of the night, Even had to fuck his orgasms out of him and touching himself suddenly feels incredibly wrong, so Isak lets go of his cock so quickly is slaps wetly and heavily against his stomach, making Isak hiss.

He rakes his hands through his hair, trying to ignore how his dick is aching for contact. How the fuck was he going to achieve that? First of all, Even’s not here, and even if he were, Isak wouldn’t dare ask Even to recreate the night in case he found out about all of the messed up thoughts in Isak’s head.

Maybe I can… Isak lets himself think before breathing out a “fuck it” and reaches into their bedside table to take out the lube. Might as well try, he’s in too deep already, he thinks, snorting a bit when his brain has caught up with his thoughts.

He ends up pouring out a bit too much on his hand and spills it onto his cock. His toes draw in and he has to bite his lip to not make a sound when his cock forcibly twitches from the feeling of the too cold liquid against his too hot skin.

Fingering himself isn’t something he’s uncomfortable with anymore, never since meeting Even, but he has never cared for the feeling when the first finger enters. He tries to distract himself by mimicking Even’s movements, slowly drawing it in and out and lets himself believe he’s back in the night and it’s Even doing this to him.

But it’s not, because Isak loses his patience and ends up pressing another finger in a bit too quickly. It stings and he winces a bit before slowly continuing. Instead he lets himself press his fingers so hard into his spot that he sees stars.

Jesus”, he breathes out and can’t help but laugh at how predictable he apparently is in bed.

It definitely feels more right now, Isak letting himself slowly be fucked by his fingers as his other hand goes to pinch his nipple, the sharp sting of it making his dick strain.

I know you don’t need to. You don’t, do you? I know how much you like it when I can make you cum without touching you. When you cum by me fucking into you, so deep” and Isak groans as he tries to press his fingers in even deeper.

His body is on fire and he’s feeling good, definitely more right than when he was just touching his dick, but it still feels like there’s something missing, and Isak can’t stay still.

That conversation at lunch. Having to hear them talk about me only making you come once. Having to hear about you not needing to come more than once.

Isak lets himself move his free hand from his nipple to his hair, pulling it back sharply the way Even does to stretch out his throat.

Did I not just make you come untouched too? Are you saying that were I to touch you here” Isak’s dick is straining and twitching as Isak mimics Even’s movement, revealing to have a lot of willpower by not just grabbing his dick, “just rub you over the head, it wouldn’t be the same as touching a clit?

And Isak’s body freezes.


And Isak knows, fucking knows what’s been missing since that night.

He slowly lets just one of his fingers touch his head, hissing from the contact, his dick twitching so harshly his fingers slides off.

His thighs are shaking and he’s slowly moving the fingers inside of him again, pressing against his spot every now and then to make his body sing before he slowly moves his other hand towards his dick again.

It feels weird to just rub the head, definitely making it more and more sensitive every time the rough pad of his finger slides over the tip in the slow circles he’s definitely heard the boys talking about doing.

He’s breathing erratically by now, body curling up as he goes to rub faster, harder, slowly curling into a ball from the pain or the pleasure, Isak doesn’t know, can’t think, he feels too good as he just lets Even’s line repeat in his mind.

It wouldn’t be the same as touching a clit?”

And suddenly it’s not just the night playing out, but one where Isak sees himself with the makeup Vilde had put on him and the dark grey lacey panties he saw on Google, sees how he’s still wearing them, only the tip of his dick peaking out with Even rubbing it whilst fucking him and Isak sobs as he finally comes, his dick an angry red and twitching, his fingers pressing in deep and holding there, pressing harshly against his spot.

He has to take several breaths before he can even think about pulling his fingers out.



If Isak thought he’d been freaking out before, it was nothing compared to after that. His mind is racing all over the place and for the first time in a long time, he feels like a fuck-up and it leaves him with a bad taste in his mouth and a churning stomach that isn’t helped by Even looking at him worriedly.

“You can talk to me, you know that, right?” Even says late one night, neither of them asleep yet even though they’re cuddled up under the duvet.

“’Course,” Isak mutters and can’t bear to have Even look at him any longer, turning around. He still feels tense as Even curls up behind him.

He feels… He doesn’t know what he feels, but he doesn’t feel good, that’s for goddamn sure.

He doesn’t know what it is he wants, either. He knows he wants to feel soft and look pretty and by this time he’s thought it to himself so many times that it doesn’t feel so bad anymore – still wrong, but not laughed-out-of-the-country-horrible. But this… this feels like too much.

It’s not that he wants to be a girl, definitely not, he knows this – he feels good in his skin, feels good being a boy and he feels good about being a boy who likes boys, in particular liking Even.

It’s like the thoughts won’t leave his mind – he’s zoning out in chemistry, making Sana annoyed, and the boys are all starting to worry about him, let alone Even who’s constantly glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, looking sadder and sadder every time Isak says there’s nothing to talk about.

“It’s not you,” Isak has to whisper very late one night when he knows Even is on the brink of sleep. He sees movement out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t dare turn his head because he knows Even is looking at him now. “I promise it’s not about you and it’s not about us. I love you more than anything in the world and I hope you know that. I just need to figure it all out in my head.”

Even doesn’t show any signs of having heard what Isak just said, but Isak knows he did and his heart feels a little lighter the next morning when Even’s smile reaches his eyes when they spend the morning in bed together.


Isak doesn’t get any more nights where he sleeps for the entirety of it since the one where he ensured Even they were good, and Jonas is still subtly trying to get him to talk.

It’s not until a random Wednesday where Jonas shows up in a very pink shirt.

“What on earth are you wearing?” Mahdi says as they all stare at Jonas inquisitively.

“Found it in that new secondhand shop – it’s so sick, isn’t it?”

Mahdi only raises an eyebrow.

“A bit gay, isn’t it?” Isak asks, face scrunched up in distaste, not even quite realizing what he’s just said.

Magnus and Mahdi only laugh while Jonas gasps dramatically as if he’s never been so offended in his entire life.

“My shirt doesn’t have a sexual orientation, man!” Jonas shouts, shaking his head at Isak. “I thought you’d changed.”

He says it jokingly, Isak knows that, but it still makes his body want to curl up in shame when he remembers the things he used to say.

He laughs a second too late as a response and he knows Jonas notices, fuck.

It’s not until later when they’ve both sat down for lunch, waiting for Magnus to finish class and for Mahdi to get his waffles that Jonas says anything.

“I really like this shirt, actually.”

Isak shrugs. “Cool.”

“Yeah, so I’m going to wear it. Because I like it, and there’s really nothing more to it,” and Isak’s body is frozen, eyes staring blindly ahead, not daring to glance at Jonas.

“Sometimes you just like things, and that’s okay, there doesn’t have to be a deeper meaning. As long as they’re not hurtful to anyone, everything’s fine.”

Isak forces himself to nod and repeat what Jonas just said.

Sometimes you just like something, and that’s okay, there doesn’t have to be a deeper meaning.

Just because he wanted to be soft and wear makeup and… something more – be spoken about as if he were a girl? – it didn’t mean  he was a girl or wanted to become a girl or anything else, really.

It still doesn’t really make sense to Isak, but he just shrugs and tells Jonas, “You do you, buddy,” and then Mahdi arrives and they’re done with that conversation.


Once Isak had finally pulled himself together and stopped lying to himself and everyone else back in second year, he’d come to realize how much he’d actually missed hanging out with Eva. Coffee dates have since been the regular, any time they manage to get a bit of free time, plus it allows Isak to ogle at Even behind the counter, never failing to make Eva snort when she finally notices.

This time, however, Eva ends up dragging him shopping, claiming she’s missing “Essentials, Isak, there’s a reason they’re called that”, although Isak has a feeling ‘essentials’ is just her wanting to browse the new autumn selection.

“You know,” Isak starts as they walk to H&M, “you’ve got an entire group of girlfriends who’d gladly go shopping with you.”

“I know,” Eva says, smiling brightly at him as she holds the door open for him.

Isak rolls his eyes at her. “What help will I be able to give? I don’t know a thing about women’s fashion!”

Eva laughs, “you’re obviously here as the ‘gay best friend’” she says playfully, obviously joking.

“It’s official,” Isak says, “your entire wardrobe shall be rainbows.”

Shopping with Eva is both the dullest activity Isak could imagine and also intriguing. In the back of his mind, he can’t let go of the image of dark grey panties and soft lip-gloss, but he forces it away as he honestly tries to judge whether Eva looks better in blue or red.

“The red goes well with your hair,” Isak says, sitting down on one of the displays as he looks at the two dresses Eva’s holding up against her body, “but the blue brings out the redness in it.”

“Hmm…” Eva says, considering this as she turns back around to look at the mirror, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t think I like either.”

“Kill me,” Isak groans.

Eva chooses to ignore him as she goes to browse the denim skirts and leaves Isak to glance around the shop.

There isn’t really a lot of people, surprisingly, not even anyone from school that he can recognize. There are probably more displays than people at the moment, giving Isak a clear view of the selection and of Eva.

He tries to find something that might interest her, eyes skimming over everything from dresses to trousers. The only flaw with this is, however, that Isak isn’t entirely sure what it is Eva wants to wear (although he has enough sense to doubt she’d fancy the bright orange sweater).

“Oh my god,” he suddenly hears Eva exclaim. “Isak, come on, come here, look, look, look!”

Eva is pointing further into the shop where Isak sees the store has covered their entire back wall in makeup products.

“Noora told me about this! She went with Eskild and got that new matte red lipstick she’s been wearing, have you seen it? Oh, I completely forgot this was here!” Eva rambles as she drags Isak through the shop.

Isak feels his heart speeding up as they get nearer, his mind unhelpfully supplying him with Google images of pretty girls with makeup suddenly converted onto Isak’s own face and he has to gulp down all of the saliva his mouth is suddenly producing.

“There’s this eye shadow palette Sana was talking about that looked so cool on her I really want to get – Eskild’s been teaching me to do it properly, you know,” Eva says, as she drags Isak over to the eye shadow stands, completely unaware of Isak internally panicking.

It’s not until Eva is completely immersed in opening the palettes and browsing through the selection that Isak lets himself look away from Eva and instead glance at the stand.

The shop has posted helpful pictures of models wearing the different kinds of makeup with a list of the products used so the costumer can “get the look” as Isak sees posted everywhere.

He feels how sweaty his hands are when he sees one of the brands the girl in the YouTube tutorial had mentioned.

He isn’t going to look, he isn’t, but he is, he can’t help it. He lets his eyes skim over the different products lined up on the shelf before he finally sees the palette from the video.

It’s smaller than Isak thought it would be, it not featuring as many different shades as some of the other palettes do, but they’re nice nude colors that Isak knows can be used to define your eyes.

Isak doesn’t even notice his hand lifting before lightly touching the edge of the lid, slightly pushing the palette away, it making a horrible scratching noise against the shelf that Isak winces from. Everybody will know he’s looking at makeup and why he’s looking at makeup, and fuck-

“That’s a quite nice one,” Eva says looking over at the misplaced product Isak had clearly been looking at, “although I prefer a much bolder look. Eskild says that’s my flaw,” she nods at him as if Isak perfectly understands what any of that means.

Isak has a knot in his throat and he can’t seem to swallow past it and only feels it grow in size. He looks at the tube Eva’s holding in her hand – fuck, lip-gloss, of course, and the same one Vilde had used on him – and figures he needs and escape right now.

“I don’t understand half of these words,” Isak says, mimicking the way he’s seen Jonas shake his head when the girls got a bit too into talking about makeup. “Shimmering,” he says in English and points at a different palette, “why would you want shimmering eyelashes? Surely they’d just look greasy?”

Eva lets out a noise that’s half a sigh and half a laugh before she puts the lip-gloss down – god, Isak’s heart is beating too fast – and grabs onto his shoulders.

“I give up – go look at the boys’ section or something, I’ll come find you when I’ve finished,” she laughs before turning Isak around to face the shop and pushing him away.

“The men’s section, Eva! I am a man!” Isak shouts as he walks further into the shop, hearing Eva joke of course he is before he turns the corner.

He leans against the wall for a few seconds, trying to catch his breath as he forces his mind to stop thinking about the makeup he just looked at and the way he could use it on his own face and if Even would like it and the lip-gloss Eva had been holding, and, god, he’s spiraling.

So instead, he opens his eyes, subtly checking if anyone’s paying attention to him, which they aren’t, before heading over the men’s section.

It’s a rather limited supply this shop carries, he knows, and he therefore doubts his going to be able to find anything, he thinks as he leaves the women’s section and enters the men’s.

And sure enough – black hoodies and tracksuit bottoms – just what he wants.

Isak does, however, know that Eva will be taking her sweet time looking for something she wants, so he might as well give it a shot before he whips out his phone to play games.

Sure, some of the items are rather nice – he finds a black t-shirt with a rather crude message on it he knows Eskild would laugh at that he snaps him a picture of, and he can’t help but think about Jonas when he accidentally stumbles upon a stack of light pink t-shirts.

He doesn’t find anything that interests him, though, as he aimlessly walks around the different displays, noticing how they’re slowly starting to feature dresses and skirts again, telling him he’s near the women’s section again.

How many clothes do they need, Isak can’t help but think when he finally stumbles upon something that stands out.

Eight stacks of different colored knitted sweaters are laid out on the display, and Isak can’t help the tentative steps he takes towards them.

He slowly lets his hand skim over the navy one, drawing his hand back as if he’d been shocked when he feels how soft it is. His heart aches.

He has to take a look around again to see if anyone is looking, but no one is near him and the girl at the cash register is too busy messing with different packages.

Isak looks back at the sweater he’d touched and slowly walks towards it and unfolds it.

God, it’s lovely. It’s quite simple of design – ribbing at the bottom, at the end of the sleeves and a bit at the collar as well, and two cables running down the sides of the chest all the way from the top to the bottom, making it look like two braids.

Isak lets his hand run over it once more, lightly pinching the fabric between his thumb and index finger. He’s getting it. He can’t bring himself to buy any makeup, but he damn well can buy a men’s sweater that just looks really nice.

He looks over the selection of colors and sees the quite typical ones – white, black, grey; a dark grey that looks a bit too much like the lacey panties he saw on his computer, and that image comes a little bit too close to the truth, so Isak immediately decides he’s not even going to think about choosing that one.

The only ones he really wants is the navy blue he’s still holding and a dark burgundy or maroon color; both colors Isak knows he looks good in.

He can’t seem to let go of the navy one and he doesn’t want to buy them both, just in case they don’t look good, or something, so he instead he checks the size, large, and decides that it being a bit oversize on him probably won’t matter.

It’s with quick and sure steps that he walks over to the cashier, the girl greeting him with a large, professional smile as he places the sweater onto the desk and starts to fish out his wallet.

“That’ll be 700,” she says and Isak hands her the money, not even letting himself wince at the thought of all the groceries they could’ve gotten with that money. Oh well, they’ll be fine.

“I hope your girlfriend will like it,” the girl says with a wink as she hands him the bag with the sweater in, glancing over at Eva who’s standing with another girl, currently paying for a pile of clothes.

“Thanks,” Isak says, confused, as he grabs the handle and slowly starts to back away.

Hope your girlfriend will like it resonates in his mind. Why would Eva need to like the men’s sweater he’s bought for himself?

It’s like his entire being stops as he slowly realizes. He can see the sweater display in the corner of his eye, and now it’s perfectly clear that the display definitely isn’t placed in the men’s section, but in the women’s.

Isak just bought a women’s sweater for himself. Fuck, god, he fucked up, this wasn’t meant to happen. He almost turns around to return the sweater, but what would he say? What excuse could he possibly give the girl who thinks he’s just bought a present for his girlfriend?

Eva. He can’t let her see it – she would want to see what he’d bought and she’d immediately know that it was a women’s sweater, and who the hell would Isak be buying that for? So he quickly takes his school bag off, quickly glancing up to see that Eva is getting her wallet out, attention only on handing money over, as Isak stuffs the shopping bag in along with his computer and books.

He’s just managed to get the bag back on and start walking towards Eva when she turns around and notices him.

“There you are, I was just about to go look for you,” she smiles and links her right arm with his left, her left holding onto three filled bags of her own. “Did you find anything?”

Isak has to swallow and stuff his right hand into his pocket so Eva won’t see how it’s cramping into a fist. “Nah, not really.”

He sees the girl give him thumbs up out of the corner of his eye but ignores her in order to hold the door open for Eva, his too hot skin feeling relieved at the gust of wind blown in his face.


The sweater is a bit crumbled as Isak unfolds it and carefully lays it onto the bed.

He doesn’t know why, but the fact that he now knows it to be a women’s sweater makes his heart pound and stomach curl in shame as he looks at it. The panic does however lessen a bit when he slowly reaches out and lets his fingers roll over the cables, following them.

It’s probably the softest thing he’s ever touched, let alone owned, and it reminds him a bit of Even’s freshly washed and dried hair or that one cardigan his mom had had when he was little – the white, woolly one she’d wear instead of a jacket during the warmer days in September.

He really likes the color, and he likes the way it looks when he lays the sleeve on his bare wrist, looking at how pale and smooth his skin suddenly looks.

Isak feels so stupid – he’s bought a sweater and he doesn’t even dare put it on. He physically has to remove himself from the offending item to get his thoughts straight. So instead he paces back and forth in front of his bed, not daring to look at the sweater.

This is so stupid, Isak can’t help but think. It’s literally just a sweater – he hadn’t even known it was a women’s sweater and there’s really nothing that indicates it is besides the decorative cables and the front being a bit shorter than the back.

Him wearing the sweater doesn’t mean anything, Isak has to remind himself as he thinks of what Jonas told him – sometimes you just like something and that’s okay.

Isak still can’t help but feel impossibly angry at himself whenever his eyes end up wandering to the sweater. Why the hell can’t he just wear the stupid thing?

He works himself into such a frenzy that when he looks at the clock, he sees Even’s probably ten minutes away and Isak feels his heart sink from disappointment.

He knows himself, inside out – or, at least he used to, but this he’s absolutely positive about: If he hides the sweater away now, he’ll never be able to bring himself to take it out again at next available opportunity.

So, daring getting caught but mind made up, Isak practically tears his hoodie and t-shirt off, but then time seems to slow down around him again.

He takes a few tentative steps until he’s right in front of the damn thing, fingers once again lightly tracing the ribbing.

It’s so soft and his mind unhelpfully throws him images of the Google soft search result – of the soft feathers and feelings and of soft colors and of women in lingerie and with soft skin.

Isak barely realizes what his mind is making him do until he finds himself unzipping his trousers and pulling them off as well.

It’s not exactly knickers, Isak thinks as he glances at his boxer briefs, but at least it’s the pair Even likes him in as they properly show off and define his butt.

Slowly he lifts the sweater by the edge before he allows himself to slip it on.

It almost glides on, fitting smoothly against Isak’s skin and he shudders from the feeling of it.

His hands can’t seem to let go of it as he takes the few steps over to the floor length mirror they’d brought from Kollektivet when they moved.

Isak’s heart stops for a moment when he sees himself, leaving him gaping.

It’s such a beautiful sweater and Isak can feel himself tearing up slightly at how pretty he feels wearing it. It was a good thing he had chosen it in large as the sizes for women were apparently a bit smaller compared to men.

It still hangs loosely off of his body, the sleeves not quite long enough to create sweater paws, but they surpass his wrists, and the collar shows off his collarbone nicely. The cables twist up along the sides of his chest.

He slowly runs his fingertips over the sweater, feeling it move both against his hands and his chest, feeling it glides against his skin and makes him shudder. It’s beautiful.

Isak doesn’t know how long he just stands there, staring at himself, but it’s definitely not long enough to get his fill of it. Still, he forces his eyes to move lower.

Because while the sweater definitely is more than he could’ve ever dreamt of, there’s a problem below it.

Because below the waist, there’s nothing soft or pretty about him – not his obvious gangly teenage-boy legs and not the men’s underwear he’s wearing.

Isak dares to look himself in the eyes through the mirror for a couple of seconds before he lets himself turn his attention towards the sweater again.

It’s a good feeling the sweater’s given him – he likes how he feels in it and he likes how he looks in it, and objectively he knows there’s nothing wrong with wearing something that makes you feel that way.

And so, if it’s alright that he’s bought a women’s sweater that fits him so nicely and makes him feel so pretty and wonderful, then maybe…

Isak gulps.

He wants lingerie.


But just because Isak has allowed himself to want lingerie, it doesn’t mean he has actually bought any.

It’s on his mind constantly, though – when he’s in his classes, when Even is slowly crawling up the bed to kiss him and he can’t help but wonder if Even would like it on him, when he’s pretending to sleep in order not to worry Even.

The problem mostly lies in acquiring said purchase, because how the hell was Isak ever going to pull that off? He couldn’t walk into a shop, that was simply too risqué and there was all too big of a risk of running into anyone he knew, as they’d immediately know that there was no reason for him to be there.

Which leaves Isak with ordering some online. Which could be fine, but he doesn’t know if the company will have their logo on the arriving packages, meaning he can’t buy anything from a specialized lingerie shop but would have to go with a much more generic brand. But then there’s also the problem with when it would be delivered, because Isak and Even didn’t have any secrets until this and if it had just been a pair of jeans or a hoodie, Isak would’ve had no qualms with Even receiving and opening the package. This, however, is a bit more delicate.

But just because his head can’t figure out a 100% safe way of getting the knickers, his heart is screaming at him, hurting every time he dares thinking about it.

Which is why Isak’s currently finding himself in the situation he’s in as of now; on the bed, sitting up against the wall with his computer in his lap, Even sitting at their dining table, sketchbooks and pencils spread out across its surface.

Isak knows there would be much less of a risk of Even discovering what he was doing were he to just do this alone, but despite all of the tumultuous thoughts in his mind, Isak still and will probably always feel the safest he can be when he’s around Even.

So Isak opens a tab filled with chemistry notes that he can quickly switch to were Even to suddenly be interested in what he’s doing, before opening Google.

And then he’s stuck.

What does he search? Does he just choose a generic brand or does he actually go for a lingerie store?

He feels how his mind is starting to panic, his entire body filling with dread and so he forces himself to look over at Even and just lets himself look.

Because even though Even isn’t aware of it right now, there’s no bigger comfort to Isak than Even.

Even is hunching over the table, pencil skimming the surface of the paper in front of him, eyes following its movement, although he sometimes glances up at Isak.

Even smiles brightly and winks when he sees Isak looking at him. “Halla, baby.”

Halla,” Isak whispers back, feeling his entire body relax and face soften as he continues to look at Even who’s turned back to his drawing. “I’ve missed this, you know.”

“Missed what?” Even asks, briefly looking at Isak before looking down again.

“You drawing,” Isak says, shuffling a bit around until he’s sitting more comfortable, “me fucking around.”

Even laughs. “Oh, I don’t miss you fucking around at all, I only want you fucking me.”

Of fucking course, his fucking boyfriend. Isak rolls his eyes whilst groaning. “Ugh, that’s not what I meant.”

“That’s what you said, though!” Even laughs, and Isak can’t do anything but throw back his sassiest “fine”, which Even mimics.

It’s quiet for a few more moments before Isak returns to the computer again, staring at the Google logo which looks more and more condescending by the second.

Isak takes in a deep breath and holds it for a few seconds. The sweater from H&M was definitely successful; he can’t help but think of its hiding place, in their bottom drawer underneath everything else. Even never goes in there, preferring to stay in bed until the latest possible and then just grab something from the top drawer, which now then looks like a complete mess.

No harm done trying, Isak thinks, letting himself slowly breathe out again, as he types the shop into Google.

The page loads up and Isak’s heart stops because he hadn’t thought about this.

Lingerie is targeted at women – Isak knew this already although he’d done his best trying to convince himself that underwear is underwear. But H&M targets women, men, and children; meaning everything’s been split into categories.

He’s going to have to manually go into the women’s section and look at their underwear.

Isak hovers the mouse over the button and finds that he just can’t do it. His mind is racing at several hundred kilometers an hour and he just can’t bring himself to click.

Instead he ends up closing the tab and stares at his chemistry notes instead.

To be honest, he doesn’t really give a flying fuck about hydrocarbons right now.

He makes himself look at Even instead, makes himself focus on how his quiff is falling down slightly, how his eyebrows furrow and jaw clenches slightly when he messes up and has to erase the misplaced lines. God, he’s in love with him.

Isak opens up Google once again before typing lingerie.

A lot of sponsored sites pop up, some not even Norwegian, and then Google Maps suggests different shops in Oslo and Isak can feel his body tightening as he scrolls further and further down. He ends up clicking the first normal link he sees, barely looking at anything but the .no to make sure its Norwegian.

CHANGE Lingerie is written boldly on the front page, along with a woman posing in underwear.

Okay, that’s good – Isak just has to ignore that he only sees pictures of women and then he can think it’s a bit more gender neutral.

He clicks on products and then on pants, ignoring all of the sub-categories he can click on and not really finding it necessary to looks at bras.

The site loads up and the first thing Isak clicks on is the prize limit. He isn’t made of money, for god’s sake, and he isn’t going to use this month’s savings on this. Although he’s pleasantly surprised to see the limit doesn’t exceed 400 kr, so he just decides to leave it be.

He doesn’t have any color preferences but his hands go clammy once he sees the last specification.


Fuck, okay, he hadn’t really thought about that. He’s usually a small in men’s wear, but that probably doesn’t mean shit when it’s suddenly women’s underwear he’s buying.

Okay, he can figure this out.

Isak opens another tab with Google, typing in Norwegian clothes size conversion and clicks on the first link he sees.

Perfect, a table of women’s clothes sorted by country and size by letter, and further down the same for men. He just has to compare his usual size to the one women would use then, and he ends up needing a large.

Okay, first problem solved, Isak thinks as he types it into the site. He can do this.

He dares glancing over at Even, can’t help but smile at the sight of his boyfriend concentrating, and then turns his attention back to the screen.

The underwear is sorted by the newest additions, but the first four pictures don’t really catch his attention. The first two are rather simple, not really the lacey bits he’d been fantasizing about, although the second one does seem to be the same color as the sweater. The next one does have lace, but it’s placed right in the front and, to be frank, it looks a bit misplaced. The last one is actually rather pretty – sheer bits covering the sides and then a small bow placed in the middle at the hem. They’re quite nice, but he’s not sure about the color – whilst the model wearing them is all suntanned, Isak fears he’ll look too pale in the rather nude color, so he continues scrolling down.

His heart falls down a bit – these aren’t really what he’d imagined at all, although by now he’s not exactly sure what he had imagined.

Scrolling down further, there’s another also quite nice pair, described to be high waist, with lace right above the thighs, a diamond pattern along the sides and another small bow. They are nice and Isak almost wants to reach out and touch them through the screen, but they’re almost the same color as the other one he’d like, and although the model is a bit paler than the first, Isak’s much paler.

He ends up opening it in a new tab anyway and sees a picture of the back – a lacey triangle placed right in the middle at the hem.

They are nice, Isak can’t deny that, and so he leaves the tab open and goes to inspect if there’s anything else.

If he isn’t 100% set on the pair he sees, then maybe they’re just not the one, Isak has to remind himself so he won’t spend several hundreds of kroner on a few pairs without checking everything the store’s got.

And thank fuck for that reasoning, because as he scrolls further down, he sees the pair.

They’re dark red – they would’ve matched the other sweater perfectly – with lace at the sides and a bow in the middle again, and they’re almost identical to the dark grey pair he’d seen on Google.

His heart is pounding as he clicks the picture and his stomach knots in excitement when he sees the back is entirely lace.

God, he wants them, as he reads the description.

Dark cherry, they’re described as, with the lace being flat so it won’t be noticeable underneath clothes.

His hands go clammy at the thought of wearing them underneath his regular clothes, but he also feels way too nervous at that thought. Isak thinks he’d prefer to just wear them when he wants to – on special occasions when he’s alone for a few hours.

He types in his size and puts them in the basket and then returns to see if there’s anything else he wants.

Now that he’s managed to find something so perfect, this is actually quite fun.

The next pair he finds is black which he thinks looks a bit too bold compared to the softer colors Google had supplied him with, but the model is the same skin color as Isak and he doesn’t think it looks all that bad on her, so he clicks that picture as well.

It’s also lace, even though it’s placed on top of black fabric so it isn’t see-through, and they sit high on the bum so nearly the entirety of it is revealed. Hipster string the website described it as, although that doesn’t really mean a lot to Isak.

He can’t get the image of him on the bed, ass up, and Even looking at him, out of his head, and fuck, his dick just twitched and Isak feels the need to readjust in his trousers, but that would alert Even to him being turned on and he’d rather look at this for a bit more.

The image is too good though, so Isak puts them in the basket as well.

He finds a dark grey pair, these one entirely by lace and they ride low on the hips and show off the butt. Why not, he thinks and adds them as well.

The last pair end up being a pair of white ones, much in the same style as the dark red ones, with lacey flowers all around, the front covered and with a small bow.

He goes to the shopping cart and looks at the four items. Isak only doubts himself for a second as he worries if this really is a good idea, and if he maybe should start with just one pair in case it’s a flop, but in the end he can’t decide which one pair should be the one, so he just heads to check out instead, choosing for it to be delivered as he enters his address.

Three work days before they’re delivered, making it Thursday they’ll be here. It’s almost as if it’s fate as Isak finishes school at three and Even finishes uni at four. He just has to convince Even that they should visit Even’s parents after school so neither of them will be home and the package will just be delivered to their local post office. Isak can pick it up the next day on his way home from school, leaving him with three hours before Even returns from work.

Jesus, Isak can’t help but think – this is way too complicated, but it should work out. He just has to hope the company doesn’t brand their packaging so it’ll be obvious what he’s ordered.

Getting Even to agree to visit his parents, though – now that’s easy.

Isak closes all of the tabs once he’s finished his purchase, clears his history and then turns his attention towards Even.

“What are you drawing?”

Isak studies the small smile Even gets when he asks, Even’s attention still on the paper.


Isak has to shake his head a bit. Of course.

“May I see?”

Even hums noncommittally which Isak knows mean ‘sure’, so he places the laptop on the dresser and then slowly walks behind Even, folding his arms over his shoulders around his throat, hands hanging loosely against Even’s chest as Isak leans his weight against him.

The drawing is Isak, lying on the bed, looking at the computer, and he can’t help but think of how Even’s now unknowingly immortalized Isak looking at women’s underwear for himself.

“Can I suggest something?” Isak whispers into Even ear, feels how he shudders against him.

“What?” Even asks, adding a bit of shade to Isak’s jeans.

Isak lets his teeth skim against Even’s neck, breath hot against his skin as he lets his tongue poke out slightly.

“Less clothes,” Isak whispers into Even’s ear.

And Even barks out a laughs, which wasn’t really a part of Isak’s plan.

“Oh my god, baby,” Even laughs. “You’re so smooth.”

Isak draws back, standing up. “Ex-cuse me, I am the master of being smooth, unlike you Mr. Even-I’ll-take-all-of-the-paper-towels-to-get-your-attention-Bech-Næsheim!”

Isak’s barely managed to finish his sentence before Even’s kissing him, mouth pressing hotly and insistently against Isak’s, although they’re both grinning a bit too much to be kissing properly.

“Stop giggling, baby,” Even says, pressing Isak against the bit of bare wall next to all their drawings, tongue drawing patterns against the skin of his neck, making Isak lose his breath as he grabs onto Even’s shoulders.

“’M afraid I’m too funny,” Isak says, not managing to keep a straight face as he feel Even snort into his neck.

God, Isak’s missed this; feeling like himself, feeling like there’s nothing wrong with him, and he’s definitely missed being so carefree around Even.

He’s also missed something else, though, which is why he twists them around, pressing Even against the wall instead.

“Oh?” Even questions and Isak smiles slyly.

“Mmm,” Isak hums, pressing his lips against Even’s languidly. Even’s smiling at him fondly as he makes Isak’s locks curl around his fingers. “Wanna blow you.”

He says it so carelessly, almost as if he’s making small talk about the weather, and Even clearly wasn’t expecting it by the large intake of breath and his hand tightening around Isak’s curls, making his dick twitch again.

“Yeah?” Even questions, smoothing down the hair he’d grabbed whilst pressing his hips against Isak’s, making Isak feel how he was already quite hard in the lose sweatpants he was wearing.

“God, yeah,” Isak mumbles against Even’s neck, lightly biting down as he fingers tease against the hem of Even’s pants.

He sinks to his knees right there when Even’s hands begin to wander, clearly shocking Even.

“That eager, huh?”

Isak only grins, though, as he presses his face into Even’s groin, nuzzling. Even’s breath hitching at the sight and the feeling feels like background noise as Isak lets himself feel the fabric slide over his face and lets his senses fill with the scent of Even.

His nose bumps against Even’s cock and he feels it twitch when he breathes hot air over Even’s balls, his tongue just grazing them.

“Tease,” Even mutters, but Isak knows he doesn’t mind as he’s only running his fingers through Isak’s hair rather than using it to guide him to his cock. “You do look so pretty like that, though.”

Fuck, Isak can’t help the whine he unintentionally lets out. He just wants it so bad, has just bought himself women’s lingerie, for Christ’s sake, and he wants Even to be a part of it, wants him to help figure out what’s going on in Isak’s head, and he wants him to tell him he’s pretty, and he just did, and god, Isak is humping the air as he pulls down Even’s sweatpants, barely noticing he’s not wearing any underwear, before swallowing him down.

“Baby,” Even groans above him as Isak begins to bob his head.

He usually likes to drag this bit out, likes to tease Even by only letting him completely down his throat at every other downturn, slowly getting him closer and closer to the brink, but this time he wants it like this.

He wants to swallow Even down until he can’t see anything for the tears in his eyes, until he can’t think of anything but how good Even’s filling him up, until his jaw aches from the stretch.

Until he’s lips are red enough he could’ve been wearing lipstick, cheeks flushed, and looking pretty all for Even.

Isak groans at the thought of being pretty and being pretty for Even and he actually has to pull off of Even in order not to choke.

“Is that what you want?” Even asks tentatively, and Isak can hear he’s nervous, as he continues to play with Isak’s hair, “to be pretty? To be my pretty baby?”

Isak feels how instantly his cheeks heat with blood, and although that’s exactly what he wants, it’s still all messed up in his mind that he isn’t supposed to want these things. Instead he hides his face away into Even’s groin again, ignoring how a few tears are dangerously close to falling.

“Because you are,” Even continues, sounding so unsure of himself, and Isak wants to comfort him, but, god, his own heart is aching right now and he doesn’t know what to do.

Isak thinks when he looks back at this moment, it would’ve been the perfect time to tell Even about everything that had been going on, but right now his body is shaking and he’s pretty sure he can’t keep the building sobs in forever, and Even’s just standing there, with gentle hands and a soothing voice.

“My pretty baby, you always look so gorgeous,” Even says, using the hand in Isak’s hair to tug his head back a little.

Isak fights it though, doesn’t want Even to know… how right he is? How close Isak is to crying? God, fuck’s sake, he just wanted to blow his goddamn boyfriend.

When Isak doesn’t comply, Even instead lets Isak’s head slide along Even’s body as he crouches down in front of Isak. Isak immediately presses his face into Even’s neck, hiding there instead.

“Baby, Even says, gathering Isak into a hug. “What’s going on in that old head of yours?”

And Isak doesn’t know, okay, he’s been trying, and yes, he’s gotten better at thinking that there’s nothing wrong with liking certain things, but he’s still not completely okay with it.

“Do you not feel pretty, is that it?” Even guesses, and no – that’s not really the problem. Isak likes the way he looks, he just wants certain things in order to look even prettier.

“Guys aren’t supposed to look pretty,” Isak mutters, not sure if Even hears him or not.

He feels how Even shakes his head in disagreement. “Guys who limit themselves and others to not being able to be called ‘pretty’ should go fuck themselves and their negativity.”

Isak huffs out a wet laugh.

“You can be anything you want to be, baby. Whether it’s pretty or handsome or brilliant or all three at once,” Even says, trying once again to get Isak out of his hiding place.

This time, Isak’s complacent and even dares to meet Even’s eyes. Even though he looks so worried, they’re still shining with love and fondness and it’s definitely Isak’s favorite look on Even (along with every other look Even has because he can’t chose between them).

“Do you want to watch a movie? Go cuddle?” Even asks, rubbing his hands up and down Isak’s sides.

Isak whines. “No, wanted to blow you.”

Even smiles, although it looks a bit sad more than anything. “I don’t really want that when you’re so sad.”

Isak has to look down at his lap because of that. He’s not even hard anymore. “I’m not sad,” he mumbles, words barely distinguishable. “I promise.”

But Even clearly doesn’t believe him. “Baby…”

“Compromise,” Isak says, holding his finger against Even’s lips to hush him. “You fuck me instead. It’ll be just like cuddling, you’ll just be moving around a lot more.”

Even laughs and Isak feels the movement of his lips against his finger. “Oh, I’ll be moving around, will I?”

Isak shrugs, trying to appear noncommittal, but he can’t keep the grin off of his face. “Well, it’s only fair, isn’t it? Seeing how sad I apparently am.”

He’s trying to make a joke of it, but the look in Even’s eyes tells him he shouldn’t.

Isak doesn’t really want to have Even attempt any other talks tonight, though, so instead he grabs onto Even’s collar, hauls him up, making him land on the edge of the bed.

“Since you’re so against moving, apparently,” Isak mocks before sinking down on his knees again.

He doesn’t manage to get Even out of his pants, though, as Even is physically holding him back.

“Do you want this?” Even asks, no hint of fun left.

“Yes,” Isak says. “This and you are the only things I’m so sure about wanting.”

Even’s features soften a bit at that.

“Do you want it?” Isak barely dares look at Even, so afraid of the answer, even though, rationally, he knows that Even saying no would be because he’s concerned about Isak, not as much him having figured everything out and is disgusted with what it is Isak wants.

He feels his heart drop when Even slowly shakes head, feels how his body’s beginning to panic once again, how the front door is looking much more favorable right now than staying is.

“You’re worrying me, Isak,” Even says, trying to get eye contact, but Isak refuses.

The third time it happens, Even’s suddenly moving away, standing up, and Isak’s not once felt so wrong about himself, so dirty and wrong and Even hates him now, he –

“Come on,” Even says, grabbing underneath Isak’s arms to pull him up before dragging him onto the bed.

Even gets onto the right side, making Isak lie on the left, even though it’s the opposite to what they usually do.

Even holds out his left arm, making Isak rolls his head onto it.

“What are you doing?” Isak asks, still not able to look at Even.

“All the parallel universes,” Even begins, “how big everything is, and how small we are compared to the infinite parallel universes that exist, and… everything that can happen is going to happen – not just going to, it’s happening.”

Isak has to snort. “That doesn’t even sound close to me, you know.”

Even only grins. “I’m sure that in a parallel universe there’s an Isak and an Even who’s lying in the exact same way in the exact same place, only, like-“

“Yellow curtains,” Isak smiles, finally looking up, “I know, I was there, remember that part?” he teases.

Even laughs a bit, slowly running his hand along Isak’s shoulder. “You’re a worrier, baby,” he mumbles, “have been as long as I’ve known you, and it probably won’t change.”

Isak makes himself look at how Even’s lips move so he won’t just turn away.

“But every once in a while, you let yourself be happy with who you are and who you’re with, whether it’s me or the boys or Eskild, or anyone else, for that matter.”

Even lifts up Isak’s head by the chin, meeting his eyes. “And the first time I saw you like that-“

“Let me guess,” Isak teases, “at the Kollektiv after you almost made me contract pneumonia?”

“No, it was actually when you were riding on the back of my bike, all around Oslo, before we broke into that house,” Even says so ‘matter of fact’-ly. “We’re not fucking doing that though – that was hard as shit and it was so cold.”

“Excuse me,” Isak says dramatically, fully sitting up as he grins at Even, “you were the one with the grand plans of breaking into that swimming pool-“

He doesn’t even manage to continue over how loud Even’s laughing as he pulls him down again.

Isak doesn’t realize how wide he’s grinning before Even presses his lips against his, but they’re both smiling too much to do it properly.

It’s several minutes of one pair of lips moving against the other’s before Even pulls back again.

“This might not be one of those moments,” he mutters as he slowly moves his nose against Isak’s. “But I hope you figure it all out soon, and as soon as you’ve done it, you’ll come to me and tell me all about it.”

Isak’s slow to agree, because he wants to mean it. He hopes he’ll get to that point as well, one day, where he won’t want to crawl out of his skin at the thought of Even knowing how he’s bought the softest sweater on earth and just ordered several pairs of lingerie.

Shit, the lingerie.

“Can we go to your parents’ on Thursday?” Isak asks, pressing his lips against Even’s once again. He’d hoped to ask Even this after mutual orgasms, but that was clearly off of the table tonight.

Even’s clearly taken aback by the topic change, though. “Why Thursday?”

Isak slyly grins, already having prepared this, just in case Even asked. “Because neither of us will want to cook when we get home.”

“Oh, you sneaky, little shit,” Even laughs, fingers running across Isak’s skin too quickly, making him laugh as he tries to push the hands away.

“I’ll call mom tomorrow,” Even promises, and Isak hums as an answer before pressing another few kisses against Even’s lips.

“Text her tonight when you take your meds,” Isak says, “you’ll have forgotten by tomorrow.”

This time it’s Even who sits up, acting all offended. “Why, I have never-“

“Get down here,” Isak laughs and drags Even back down on top of him, making room for him between his legs.


Isak’s been waiting outside of the front gates of the university for nearly twenty minutes when he finally recognizes a few people he knows are in Even’s class.

He keeps on glancing at his phone, waiting for a message that the package couldn’t be delivered, please come pick it up at the post office, but there’s nothing, and nearly the entire day has gone by now.

Maybe the shop is late, maybe it won’t be delivered until tomorrow meaning Even might be home to receive it, and fuck, he checks his phone again.

Still nothing.

“He’ll be out soon, loverboy, no need to check your phone that often,” he hears shouted from across the yard.

He recognizes the guy currently waving goodbye to him as Martin – someone Even had to work on a project with during the first week – both Martin and the group of guys he’s with laughing at the comment.

“You never know,” Isak shouts back. “He might’ve forgotten me.”

Forgotten you?!” He hears shouted outrageously from the front entrance where he sees Even marching over to him. “How dare you,” Even starts, before pressing Isak into the wall and kissing him.

Isak’s grinning too much though, especially when he hears the wolf whistles being thrown at them.

“Stop it before you defile this place of knowledge,” Isak laughs against Even’s lips.

Even, of course, has to press a few extra pecks against Isak’s lips before he lifts his head away. He doesn’t step back, though, leaving Isak trapped against the wall.

“Hi baby,” Even smiles.

Halla,” Isak replies, lifting his head up for another kiss.

Even’s parents live quite a few tram stops away from the university, and at this time of day every compartment is nearly completely filled to the brim so they spend the entire ride standing up, Isak pressed against Even’s front with the excuse of making room for other people, although the way he’s lifting his head up, waiting for Even to grin and lean down says something different.

They’re both in a better place – Even feels more secure knowing Isak will come to him when he wants and Isak feels more comfortable around Even, hoping that maybe Even really wouldn’t mind what’s going.

He seemed alright with calling Isak pretty, at least – although calling Isak pretty is quite a different thing from Isak wearing panties and makeup, but he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

As of now, he’ll worry about that bloody package, come on Post Nord.

Even’s mom welcomes them as always; with a warm hug that Isak knows Even definitely got from her, and a comment about needing to eat more when they insist on being so tall.

“I had to be taller than Isak, though, mom, blame him!”

“Excuse me, but too big of a height difference can be uncomfortable, I had to keep up with your son!”

And Even’s dad immediately pulls Isak down on the couch with him, asking him about the physics in this new science fiction show he’d begun watching even though they both know Isak’s just making a lot of shit up in order to keep the magic of the show alive.

Physics doesn’t work like that, and no, chemistry definitely has nothing to do with it either, Even, come on.

It’s not until they’re in the middle of dinner that Isak feels his phone vibrate against his thigh, leaving his heart pounding.

He can’t check it now, right there at the dinner table, it would be rude to and Isak doesn’t want Even to know he’s expecting a package, so instead he asks to be excused and goes to the bathroom.

And yes, right there on his screen. Package failed to be delivered, please pick it up at the following address.

Isak has to do a small jump to let out some excess energy. His plan is working, now he just has to hope the package won’t be recognizable.


There really wasn’t any reason to worry though, Isak finds as he accepts the package. It’s just a sealed white bag.

It feels a bit anticlimactic, to be honest.

He’d worked himself into such a state the entire day, worrying about this, making even Sana ask him what was up rather than just chew him out.

Nevertheless, he stuffs the package in his school bag and hurries his way home.

It’s not until he’s holding the package in his hands, standing in front of the bed, that he fully realizes the situation.

Isak is holding women’s lingerie that he’s bought for himself. He can’t even see the panties, but he knows that’s what he’s holding. Panties he bought with the intention of wearing.

He feels fucked up.

It’s okay, he has to remind himself as he carefully lays the package onto the bed. There’s nothing wrong with liking something. There’s nothing wrong with me.

His head feels a little clearer, but his heart is still pounding in his chest.

The plastic is difficult to tear, especially because Isak is being so careful because he doesn’t want the underwear to spill out unceremoniously. He wants to pick out each piece and look at them.

He can hear the plastic of the individually wrapped underwear inside the bag crinkle with each movement and Isak’s heart pounds as he can feel the shape of the four pieces through all of the layers.

Isak’s slow to reach into the package. He feels a bit weird – not wrong, per se, but…

It feels like a moment where he would’ve liked for Even to know so they could’ve looked at it together.

The first piece he takes out is the white pair. They’re definitely very pretty, very delicate, Isak notes, as he carefully opens the plastic.

They’re surprisingly soft – he hadn’t been sure as lace could be quite scratchy, but they’re so nice. He traces each lacey flower, comparing the white color to his skin color at his wrist. Yeah, they’ll look nice.

He turns them to the back and his heart skips a bit once he sees how it’s all lace and see-through. God.

Isak carefully lays them onto the bed, folded out and on display, and rather unceremoniously drops the plastic onto the floor. He’ll pick it up later.

The next pair is the black one. Isak’s dick twitches as his mind unhelpfully at the fantasy he’d had when he bought them.

They’re definitely nice – quite classic, and Isak particularly likes the sheer bits on the sides as well as the lacey front.

Isak’s excited. He wasn’t really sure if he was going to be once he was actually holding the lingerie – he’d thought it could’ve made him feel even more unsure about the situation, made him feel wrong about wanting this, but now that he’s holding them… he’s just really happy he went through with it.

He is hesitant about drawing the next pair out – it’s either the red or the grey pair, and the red had been the pair he’d fallen in love with instantly, but the grey had reminded him so much of the pair on Google; the pair that had started all of this.

It turns out to be the grey pair.

They really are beautiful, he notes, holding them up, made out entirely of lace except for a bit of padding against the crotch.

The thought that he might look better hairless in these, actually, like the model, pops into his head so suddenly that Isak nearly drops the panties.

Shaving. He hadn’t really thought about that, but now that he does it makes sense – makes sense that his skin should be soft and nice to go along with the soft and nice lingerie.

His pulse is beating loudly in his head and Isak tries to force himself to calm down.

Right now, it’s about the lingerie. He’ll worry about anything else later.

Besides, it is very difficult to keep his attention on anything but the three pairs currently lying on top of the duvet, on Even’s side even.

His hands are still a bit clammy when he pulls the last pair out, and Isak ends up wiping them against his jeans. He wants to run his hands across the fabric to feel its smoothness – he can’t exactly do that with wet hands.

His heart stops for a beat when he’s finally holding the panties up, but it feels good, Isak feels good about this.

God, he hopes they look good on him. They’re probably his favorite out of all of them (even though he’s definitely in love with each pair that he now owns, god), and he likes how the dark red looks against his skin, likes the lace roses on the sides and the entire butt.

Isak’s careful to lay it down next to the other three pairs. He slowly runs his fingers over each pair, one after the other, taking his time to get to know the feeling of each pair.

They’re so pretty, he can’t help but think, and Isak desperately wants to look and feel pretty in them once he tries them on.

He glances at his wristwatch.

Not now, though. He won’t try them on now.

This feels special – even more so than the sweater or anything else he’s been thinking about – and Isak doesn’t want to rush this. He doesn’t want to try on each pair with only forty minutes until Even is home – he wants to do this in his own time and when he wants to.

It’s alright not to try them on right now – it’s okay to do it when he wants to.

Besides, Isak can’t help but think that maybe that sudden shaving-thought might be worth revisiting.

So he carefully lays each pair on top of the other before opening the bottom drawer and digging the sweater out. Then he lays the panties underneath, gives all five articles of clothing one last, longing look, before throwing a lot of clothes on top, hiding them away.

The drawer echoes throughout the flat when he closes it shut.


Purchasing the lingerie seems to have set something off, though.

Or maybe it’s because Isak’s been thinking about the failed blowjob he tried to give Even, and how Even had been okay saying some of the things Isak had been dying to experience.

Either way, buying the lingerie had undone the knot in his stomach and had lifted a bit of the weight off of his shoulders. He felt better about himself – not good enough to shout it to the world, let alone Even, but he didn’t feel so terribly wrong about himself anymore.

Which is why he finally dares (after several weeks of little to no contact) to visit Eskild.

Eskild, who by now will definitely have a few choice words to tell Isak about abandoning his guru and lifesaver and the ungratefulness of the youth.

Usually, Isak will throw back a few (many) sassy comments about Eskild’s dramatics, but this time he knows he’s in the wrong.

“Well, well, well, look who it is, Mr. Abandoned-the-people-who-kindly-and-sefflesly-took-him-in-when-he-needed-it-the-most,” is the first thing Isak hears when the front door to Kollektivet is opened.

And usually he would’ve rolled his eyes and commented that Eskild had gotten to ogle at Even for several months so he’s more than repaid his metaphorical debt to him.

This isn’t usual, though, and to be honest, Isak’s heart hurts a bit when he sees Eskild.

He barely realizes that his feet are moving towards him before his arms are around him.

Isak stiffens, clearly not having expected his body to do that, and Eskild clearly hadn’t either.

“Is something wrong?” Eskild’s tone is soft and careful, and Isak feels a bit bad. Eskild deserves a lot more.

“’ve just missed you,” Isak mumbles, pressing his face into Eskild’s shoulder, just letting himself breathe.  “Been a bit stuck in my head recently, sorry about that.”

He pulls back suddenly. “But, you know what?” Isak asks, wide grin on his face as he ignores how Eskild still looks a little bit worried. “It’s Eskild-time.”


“Eskild-time,” Isak confirms, dragging Eskild into the flat, shutting the door with his foot behind them. “We’ll do whatever you want to.”

“And if I want Isak-and-Even-time?” Eskild teases, throwing himself onto the couch.

Isak grins. “You liar, you only want Even-time.”

“Your boyfriend is hot with a capital h,” Eskild groans. “It’s not fair – you’re gay for like, all of five seconds and you get Even. I’ve been doing this for years!”

“I take it there’s no new love interest then?”

Turns out, there is, though Eskild refuses to give Isak the name of the guy (meaning Isak highly suspects that he knows the guy, may even be friends with him. He only cares enough to make sure that it isn’t Even, though.)

They’ve been sitting on the couch for about an hour when Linn finally shows her face, wanting a midday snack.

Eskild goes into the kitchen to help her with her Pytt-i-Panna and Isak makes use of the situation and goes to the toilet.

Walking down the hallway feels a bit like being in a dream or a flashback. It only serves to remind him how much he’s gotten used to living with Even in their own home; coming home to it after school, going to sleep there, doing everything there, and now he’s visiting the place that took him in when he needed it the most.

He feels odd and nostalgic as he’s washing his hands, taking his time to look around the rather small bathroom, reminiscing about how Linn once spilled nail-polish and all four of them worked together and still barely managed to get it off before it stained, and remembering all the mornings Eskild had woken them up by singing loudly in the shower.

Lots of other moments that had happened in the shower with a noise level that Linn had complained about and Eskild had wanted all of the dirty details about.

The bathroom is a bit different now, though, with it missing all of Isak’s (and Even’s) stuff.

Isak looks at himself in the mirror. Even his reflection has changed.

A few things haven’t, though, he’s happy to notice – like the infuriatingly low supply of paper towels, Noora’s and Eskild’s makeup-bags stuffed into the cupboard, Noora’s lavender body wash-

Isak stops for a moment before his body slowly begins to move, fingers closing around the bottle.

Lavender has always been the preferred scent in Kollektivet, both Eskild and Noora being extreme fans of it. Isak still remembers how much he’d actually used the lavender scented air freshener Eskild had gotten him for his room. He also remembers the few times he’d dared snatch a little bit of the body wash from Noora – how he’d felt wearing it, his skin so soft and smelt so nice.

Isak remembers the girls sometimes coming around to have a pampering-session and a stray thought of Isak wanting this as well is enough to make him put down the bottle and exit the bathroom.

That’s definitely a thought for later.


“But we always go grocery shopping together!” Isak whines into his phone, barely refraining himself from burrowing his face into the pillow.

“Baby,” he hears Even’s voice laugh, “I can’t say no to another group meeting and we’ve got nothing in the house!”

“That’s not true,” Isak says, turning around to lie on his back, “we’ve got both mustard and ketchup in the fridge right now – I’ve checked.”

“Good boy,” Even teases, clearly not thinking about how Isak would flush and start squirming around in the sheets. “Just get us something for dinner then and we’ll do it tomorrow. Hot dogs, since we’ve apparently already got the condiments?”

“Fine,” Isak grumbles, getting up whilst making sure to mess up the duvet on Even’s side of the bed, “but if that goddamn cashier is there and flirts with me, I’m going straight home.”

“Wow, is that all it takes to make you straight?” Isak hears Even’s barely contained laugh.

“I hate you.”

“Get us food, baby! I don’t care if it’s just a frozen pizza or something. Elsker deg!”

“Elsker også deg.”


The woman is sitting at the register; Isak sees her as soon as he walks into the shop. He can’t help the groan he lets out and he can’t say that he honestly doesn’t consider going right back out of the store; dinner be damned, Even can pick up a kebab if he’s so hungry.

He doesn’t walk back out though, instead he picks up a basket and decides to hurry instead; it’s not exactly a long shopping list.

It’s produce first; bananas and apples, and then rye bread and buns for lunch, and then Isak decides to skip everything else they may need and heads over to the frozen meals. He grabs two pizzas; he has learned from experience that when two teenage boys eat a late dinner, they’re both going to be starving and sharing one pizza won’t be enough.

Isak power walks over to the milk, grabs a carton, and then heads to the cashier, trying to remember if they need detergent as he walks through all of the household products.

Fuck it, Isak thinks and bends down to grab a bottle. Better safe than sorry.

It’s not until he gets back up, dropping the bottle into the basket that he sees it out of the corner of his eye.

He shouldn’t be surprised about it, though, he knows Noora doesn’t like to waste her rather limited amount of money, especially if she can get something with the same quality for a smaller amount of money.

Still, seeing the lavender body wash outside of the familiar setting of Kollektivet’s bathroom is enough to make him stop entirely.

Goddamn, it. He’s frozen right in the middle of the supermarket all because he can’t take his eyes off of fucking soap. What the fuck is wrong with him?

Just move on, Isak tries to tell himself. Go check out, even if it is the woman. Just go.

He doesn’t.

Not until his body suddenly has a mind of its own and he hands fly out and grab a bottle. Isak doesn’t even pause to inspect it, just drops it into the basket and nearly runs down to check out.

There are two cash desks open, thank god, and Isak chooses the one with the older woman even though her line is longer. He sees the girl at the other desk check him out and slightly deflate when he didn’t choose her.

Instead he endures the woman’s invasive comments about how he should learn to cook, those already prepared meals shouldn’t be everything he eats.

Thank god she’s not in advertising, Isak thinks to himself as he tells her he will and then books it the hell out of there.

He hides the soap in the bathroom cabinet, all the way in the back behind the shaving foam that neither of them actually really use, and then goes to preheat the oven.

Isak won’t think about any of it; not when there’s so little time until Even comes home. He’ll figure it out later.


Isak doesn’t as much wait to figure it out, though, as he throws himself headfirst into it.

He’s just gotten back from school, can hear Even mocking about in their bedroom-slash-living-area as Isak goes to prepare for a shower.

He knew it was an accident – it isn’t exactly Mahdi’s fault that he tripped over an uneven part of the road and ended up spilling his kebab onto Isak. Shit happens, but Isak must admit that the garlic scent is a bit too pungent, and Even definitely agreed as he even refused to even kiss him hello and instead ordered him to take a shower first.

Which is why Isak is currently angrily grumbling as he tries to lather up the soap on his body to get the perpetual smell off of his body.

“Lather, rinse, repeat my fucking ass,” Isak mumbles to himself. Exactly how many times are you supposed to repeat? Because he’s at the third time now and he still smells more of garlic than of soap.

Isak reaches out and turns off the showerhead, resting his head against the cold, slippery tiles.

If only they had something with a different scent, something that could overpower-

Isak feels his body go tense before the thought is even a part of his consciousness.

He pulls the shower door open as quietly as he can before stepping out, shivering as he immediately is assaulted by a much colder air.

He isn’t exactly certain as to why he’s sneaking, Even will surely be able to smell the lavender on him no matter what, but that doesn’t stop the irrational impulse to hide all of Isak’s new items, even if it’s soap.

Isak shakes his head at himself, opens the cupboard and pulls out the bottle at an odd angle, careful not to topple those in front of it.

Usually he’d just hurry back into the shower. Instead he sits crouched down in front of the cupboard, simply running his fingers across the bottle, reading and re-reading all the words printed to sell it.

Luscious, fresh lavender-scented body wash and then all about its ability to moisturize and exfoliate and Isak vaguely knows why that’s good and necessary from that one time Eskild was trying to explain how it would help with all of the acne-outbreaks he’d get from stressing, but he’s pretty sure he remembers only listening with one ear, so that doesn’t do him a whole lot of good right now.

“Baby?” He hears shouted through the door and Isak nearly drops the bottle, heart skyrocketing at the thought of getting caught. “Are you done smelling like you’re keeping a whole bunch of vampires at bay?”

It’s not the best idea to experiment whilst Even is at home, but a part of Isak has since the beginning wanted for Even to be a part of whatever fucked up thing was going on in his head and really, this is the most innocent thing he could test Even’s reaction on.

Besides, Isak convinces himself as he stands up and walks back into the shower, turning it on, Even has already smelled this on him the few times he’d nicked Noora’s when he still lived at the Kollektiv, this should be fine.

The shower isn’t as warm as it was when he’d first entered it and Isak instinctively shies away from the spray before his body gets used to the temperature.

The second he gets the bottle open he starts smelling the lavender and for a second he almost backs out, but then he smells the garlic on his own skin and before he knows it, he’s dropped a dollop into his hand. If he spends another second simply staring at the liquid slowly dripping out of his palm, no one has to know.

It lathers up nicely on his body; Isak can’t help but pay attention to as he runs his hand all over his body, following the curve of his shoulder, chest, stomach, thighs. He’s surrounded by the smell, feels his mind going slightly fuzzy, like he’s just taken the best drag in his life, and his body feels fully relaxed.

When there’s nowhere else to lather, he steps into the stream, throwing his head back and rolling his shoulders, feeling the tension from months of overwork and stress being released as he takes deep breaths, inhaling the scent at every possible moment.

Once the last bit of soap has been washed off, Isak reaches through the curtain for the towel, a habit from living with Eskild that he still hasn’t managed to get rid off to Even’s dismay.

It’s actually by accident he notices it; his wrist brushes against his shoulder when he goes to dry his back and Isak startles when he feels how soft his skin is.

Towel now completely forgotten, Isak hesistantly lets the tips of his fingers runs across his body, simply letting himself feel and letting himself enjoy it.

It’s as if he’s been locked in a bubble and suddenly it pops and he starts to hear Even putter around outside of the bathroom and suddenly Isak’s heart is stuck in his throat.

No, it’s okay, Isak tells himself as he bends down to pick up the discarded towel, wrapping it around his waist, you already know Even likes this smell on you, now he’ll just know you bought it on your own violation, everything’s fine.

Everything’s fine, he repeats to himself as he opens the bathroom door, heading towards the kitchen first, the salty effects of the kebab bothering his mouth.

He’s so caught up inside of his mind that he doesn’t even hear Even step into the kitchen before he feels arms fold around his waist.

“Well, this is a much nicer way to see my boyfriend,” Even smiles, folding his body around Isak’s, before planting a small kiss on his shoulder.

That’s when Isak feels how Even’s body freezes and Isak can’t stop his heart from pounding or his body from sweating. There’s no way he imagined that, he can feel the entirety of Even against his back right now.

Fuck,” Isak hears Even groan and Isak can feel his entire body slump back into Even when Even presses his nose into the nape of his neck, taking a deep breath. “Is that-?”

“Yeah,” Isak breathes out, throwing his head back onto Even’s shoulder, a small part of his mind can’t help but notice how similar all of this is back to when all of this first started.

He feels Even’s smile before he hears his laugh. “Please tell me you didn’t steal Noora’s when you visited them the other day.”

“Oh my god,” Isak tries not to laugh and hides his face in the palms of his hands to Even won’t see his reluctant smile. Even knows, though, he always does.

Besides, Even can feel how his body is moving from the repressed laughter.

“I didn’t, by the way,” Isak says.

“When then?”

Isak draws in a sharp breath when he feels Even’s hand beginning to wander, feeling the smoothness of his body the same way Isak had been not even five minutes ago.

“Remember,” he has to interrupt himself, “remember when you had the study group meeting?” Even hums. “And I went grocery shopping alone?”

Even groans again. “If this is the byproduct of you going alone I’m never going with you again.”

“Don’t you dare,” Isak says, wiggling as he tries to tickle Even, not even close to managing before Even has a wrist in each hand and face burrowed in his neck again.

Fuck, this is so unfair of you,” Even whines, “putting this on when I have twenty minutes before I need to leave for work.”

“I’ll send you pictures, then,” Isak teases, can’t help but laughing when Even growls slightly.

“You have no idea the things I want to do to you,” Even murmurs, slowly letting his hands drop down low on Isak’s body.

Isak draws in a sharp breath when one of Even’s hand move around to his back before slowly sliding under the towel, in-between his cheeks, one of Even’s fingers finding his hole and lightly tapping on it.

Isak feels himself clench on nothing as he tries to get closer to Even’s fingers, letting out short breaths.

God, I want my fingers in you,” Even mumbles, hot breath catching on Isak’s ear, “want you spread out on the bed. Knowing you, you’d squirm to get more, get something bigger, but I’d just keep you there.”

Isak can’t help the small moan he accidentally lets out. “This is all very sudden considering I haven’t even had my ‘hello-kiss’ yet.”

Even gently removes his hand before turning Isak around. “Baby,” Even playfully says, making Isak smile a bit too wide for the kiss to be entirely smooth.

“Don’t worry,” Even says against Isak’s lips before fully pressing them onto his again, “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You better,” Isak smiles when Even draws back, thinking something’ll happen once Even gets back home from work. Maybe he’ll ride him; Even’s always dead on his feet after a long shift.

He most certainly doesn’t expect Even to drop to his knees right then and there, and Isak, startled, ends up grabbing onto Even’s hair, messing up the quiff.

“Making me go to work with sex hair?” Even teases, nosing along Isak’s dick through the towel.

“Mhmm,” Isak agrees, trying to smooth it down a bit once more, “want all the old ladies to know you just got some.”

And Even laughs as he presses a kiss underneath Isak’s bellybutton whilst working the towel open.

There really isn’t a position Even can be in that won’t get Isak fully hard within seconds, and Even on his knees and eyeing Isak’s dick as if it’s the best fucking treat he’ll ever get is in no possible way an exception.

Even swallowing him down certainly isn’t a turn off either.

Even’s still clearly torn between wanting to take his time with Isak, wanting to make him beg for it, and trying to remember that there really isn’t enough time before he has to leave, and the constant change of pace is making Isak’s body slightly confused as he gets closer and closer to the edge.

What ends up pulling him over, though, is Even burrowing his face into his groin, breathing in deeply through his nose, which Isak knows is very much necessary when deep throating, but then Even’s eyes close and he fucking moans when the scent of lavender overpowers the smell of dick and sex, and Isak isn’t sure if it’s the vibrations that make him come or something more subconscious about Even accepting him for liking these things.

No matter what, they’re both left panting, Even resting his head against Isak’s hip as he tries to catch his breath, groaning when he presses the palm of his hand against himself to relieve some of the pressure.

“I’m going to have a boner whilst serving all of the costumers,” Even groans, and lets out a small, disbelieving laugh that that’s what Even’s thinking about.

“Come on, you big baby,” Isak laughs, hauling Even to his feet before quickly switching their positions, pushing Even up against the kitchen counter and instead sinks down onto his knees.

“Isak,” Even breathes, grabbing onto his slowly drying hair, mussing it up in the process, but effectively holding Isak back from his cock. “I have five minutes before I have to leave.”

“I’ve gotten you off in less,” Isak grins at Even, hands quick at getting his button and fly undone and jeans and underwear pulled down to his mid-thighs.

He pulls out all of the stops, knows exactly how to read Even and knows exactly where to use his tongue and when to do it, when to take him deep, when to simply just bob his head quickly. He even lets Even grab onto his hair to hold his head still before pushing his hips back and forth.

Until the moment it gets so good that Even literally has to support himself by holding himself up against the counter.

Even’s barely even soft when Isak tucks him back into his boxers and pulls up his trousers.

“Not even five minutes,” Isak gloats, tongue reaching out into the corner of his mouth, gathering a small bit of come he hadn’t managed to swallow.

Even’s still standing there, panting, eyes dark and hair unruly.

Fucking hell, Isak!”

Isak’s still laughing by the time Even has given him a hasty kiss goodbye and shut the front door.


It’s probably the success of the body-wash that makes Isak do it.

It’s Isak noticing how soft his skin gets after he uses the wash, notices how it actually does help his skin a whole lot, making breakouts less often and not as severe as they used to be.

And then it turns into Isak noticing how there are certain areas that don’t get soft. Yes, he can feel the softness of his skin underneath the light sprinkle of hairs covering his body; his legs, groin, armpits.

And suddenly there are unwanted pictures forming in his mind late at night when he’s having trouble falling asleep, showing himself completely rid of body hair, and it’s making something in his belly stir.

And Isak knows that stirring by now, knows it won’t go away until he’s looked into it further and actually gone through with it.

That, however, doesn’t mean that by the time it’s nearly been two weeks and he’s been thinking about it nearly every single minute of every single hour, he’s yet to do anything about it.

Yes, body wash he can get away with, but shaving hair that isn’t on his face? He doesn’t know a single guy (except Eskild) who does that or would even want to.

Besides that, there’s the fact that there’s no way Even would be able to not notice that somehow, all of Isak’s body hair had magically disappeared. Especially when you’d consider how he’d whined when Isak had cut his hair back in spring.

So, he’s not going to do it.

He’s not.

Despite the amount of times he runs his hands over his skin, purposely avoiding any areas with hair on it to avoid temptation.

He’s not going to shave, okay?

Well, he wasn’t going to.

“You sure you don’t mind, baby?”

Isak rolled his eyes for maybe the hundredth time within the hour, but couldn’t keep the fond smile off of his face when he saw Even’s hesitation.

Yes, Even, I don’t mind if you start hanging out with your guys once a night. I hang out with my friends every day!”

Even just shrugged and looked at the wall for a few seconds. “It’s just,” he starts, still not looking at Isak, “we haven’t been spending all that much time together-“

“We live together!”

“- Yes, I know that, but we haven’t actually done anything together that hasn’t been sleeping or doing something purely domestic! Don’t get me wrong, I love getting to do all of those things with you, they’re my favorites in the entire world, but we haven’t, just, hung out, for the sake of it.”

Isak winces. Yes, some of it’s… not Even’s fault, necessarily, but he has started a new school and has had to make room for new people and bigger assignments, and Isak’s so happy for him because Even’s fucking ecstatic to finally be able to study film, but it still takes time away from their home and Isak which Isak also knows Even can’t stand.

And then… there’s the part that is definitely Isak’s fault, seeing as he’s been a bit mentally absent from making a whole lot of odd lifestyle changes and still not having been able to talk to Even about it.

He still can’t make a sound come out when he tries to practice in front of the mirror, let alone imagine what he would be saying.

So he does the only thing he can do at the moment; he puts the laptop to the side and crawls over on all fours to the end of the bed where Even’s sitting.

Isak folds his arms around Even’s neck, presses his chest against his back, and burrows his face into Even’s neck.

“Is it not Saturday tomorrow?” Isak asks rhetorically, wiggling his head around as if tickling Even with his nose, which Isak knows doesn’t work, but Even will still start laughing, probably mostly from exasperation mixed with a bit of fondness. “Do we not have any no obligations tomorrow, huh? Can you not spare me of your lousy company for just a few hours?”

“Hey!” Even laughs and wrestles himself out of Isak’s hold and in one smooth motion manages to pin Isak to the bed, one leg in-between Isak’s in a dangerously tempting position. “I am the greatest company you have ever been graced with!”

“Yeah,” Isak smiles, not even bothering to keep up the act, pulling Even down for a short kiss. “But seriously, though, can you leave already?”

“Oh my god,” Even mumbles, exasperated, retaliating by dropping his entire weight down on Isak, effectively squashing him.

Isak squawks at the sudden drop. “This won’t get you to leave any faster, though.”

Isak breathes out a laugh louder than intended when the only reply he’s given is Even pretending to snore.

“You only snore when you’re ill, you know.”

“Oh, well, if I’m ill,” Even mumbles into Isak’s shoulder, “then I shouldn’t be leaving.”

Cue another eye roll. “Ev,” Isak starts, curding his fingers through Even’s hair, “you’ve missed these boys; I know you have, don’t even try to object.”

Even lifts his head up to look at Isak.

“Go have fun.”

Meanwhile, Isak is going to figure his part out. If he can’t bring himself to tell Even about any of it before he knows what’s going on, then he’s just going to have to figure it out.

He waits half an hour once the front door has been shut and locked before he dares even sit down in front of the drawer where he’d hidden the clothes.

He takes all of them out and lays them out across the bed before sitting cross-legged in front of them.

They’re still the most beautiful things he’s even laid his eyes on and Isak only dares lightly running the tip of his index finger across the different types of fabric, following the cable on the sweater and the lace on the panties.

He still wants them, can tell that he does from his heartbeat quickening and the longing in his stomach, but at the thought of trying any of it on right now makes him go cold and stiff.

He knows he wants them, but it doesn’t feel right right now. It makes his throat tighten up and skin crawl, but he owes this to Even. He’s going to figure this out.

So he grabs the dark grey pair, still remembering how the girl in the photo had looked, both on Google as well as the website he’d bought them at, so surely it can’t go horribly wrong.

But now that he’s actually holding the pair in his hands, scrunched up from his clenching, slightly shaking, fists, he very much doubts how horribly wrong it can’t go.

It feels wrong – it all does. Isak’s not in the right headspace and it feels like he’s trying to force himself into this – which, he technically is, a part of his mind tries to tell him, but fuck it, he wanted to do this for Even, so he’s going to!

He doesn’t feel ready and he most certainly doesn’t feel pretty. He can smell the day’s sweat on his body and he knows his hair is flat from lying down, not the soft golden curls he’d rather have whilst wearing this.

Isak’s slow to walk across the room over to where they’d put the full length mirror. He tries to ignore the rest of his reflection and only focuses on his crotch where he’s holding the panties as if he’s properly wearing them.

It’s obviously going to look wrong since he’s still wearing jeans, Isak tries to convince himself, but he can’t help but notice the few blemishes he has scattered across his face and the state of his hair and entire being and it feels wrong.

He ends up throwing the panties back on the bed, but then has to go and smooth them out and put them down properly. They still looked mussed, especially when comparing to the other pairs, but it’s the best he can do right now.

First things first, he needed a shower. He knows relaxing in their bath would probably be better, could probably put him in the headspace easier, but Isak is on a time schedule and this would be much quicker.

Things go wrong as soon as he steps into the shower.

The water’s scolding leaving his skin flushed and irritated, and no matter how much he twists and turns the dial, he can’t change it. He realizes too late that his hair will take ages to dry, so he’ll have to leave it wet whilst he tries on the clothes.

The only thing that actually goes to plan is how he smells of lavender and how most of his skin feels incredibly soft; he just has to ignore the rest.

Coming out of the shower and standing in front of the bed once more, dressed in only a towel and now dripping wet, it still feels wrong.

Isak can feel the tension building in his shoulders and neck and he knows if he doesn’t stop, he’ll end up with a migraine the entire night.

So instead, he marches over to the dresser and pulls out the shortest pair of underwear they own, puts them on, retrieves the grey panties and goes back to the mirror.

Except now he can see his entire body, and instead of it now being blemishes and dirty hair that annoys him, it’s irritated skin all over his body, blemishes, wet hair and the hair scattered around on his body.

It’s not like he’s covered in hair like your average caveman; his chest and back are hairless and mostly his thighs as well, but his eyes zero in on his shins and the hair in his armpits and he knows there’s the dark hair surrounding his groin that is currently covered by the underwear.

And for once in his life, Isak can’t get the pictures of soft, hairless girls wearing panties out of his mind.

This feels wrong and Isak doesn’t want to do it. And despite of this entirely being because he wanted to do it for Even, he knows Even would want him to stop the second he felt uncomfortable.

“I never should’ve done this,” Isak murmurs to himself and he folds the clothes back up and puts them back in the drawer.

But as he’s sitting on the bed, laptop back in his lap, he can’t help but feel like a failure.

The entire apartment is closing in on him and his thoughts are swirling out of control and he can’t be here right now, he needs to get out.

He hurries to get dressed, barely remembering to grab his wallet, keys and phone as well, before he’s running down the four flights of stairs.

He’s panting by the time he gets to breathe in the cold, autumn air.

Eskild would ask questions if he just showed up, let alone in the state he was currently in, plus Noora would probably be there, and he knows she’s not a gossip but he doesn’t want to risk his inner turmoil being the topic of next week’s slander.

Jonas would ask questions as well and would jump to conclusions when Isak wouldn’t answer. Plus, he doesn’t need him sending worried glances throughout the entire school day.

Magnus’ first instinct would probably be to ask Even’s what’s wrong, which would make Even worried and Isak doesn’t want to do that either, and Mahdi would end up telling Jonas because he’d think Jonas could help him better than anyone considering how long they’ve been friends for.

Isak grabs onto his wet hair, the sting of it helping him focus on what he needs to do now.

He fishes out his wallet from his back pocket and checks how much is there.

Grocery shopping; he could do that, could surprise Even that they wouldn’t need to do it tomorrow then. He could spend an hour calming down and try to forget about what happened.

He forces himself to believe that it’s really working, even as he sneakily adds disposable razors and the most gender-neutral shaving cream he can find to the cart, trying to convince himself that he definitely hasn’t seen himself do any of those things.

He doesn’t use any of it that night, though, only puts it away where he’d originally hidden the lavender body wash that’s now proudly displayed next to their shampoo beside the shower.


Now that Isak actually is going to shave, he wants to do it right.

He still vividly remembers Eva, Noora and Eskild’s “pamper nights” which basically consisted of them turning the Kollektiv into a spa and them trash talking and gossiping (to Noora’s dismay although she always went along with it in the end).

What he really does remember is the pampering part. All three would gather into the bathroom and then did whatever they wanted to – be it facemasks, shaving, or apply makeup.

He still swears his heart stopped beating when he stumbled upon three sickly green faces and had almost banged his head open on the wall when he’d jumped back. Naturally, they’d found it hilarious whilst Isak and gone back into his room, grumbling and complaining to Even who’d done his best to hide his own laughter.

After they’d have shaved, though, Isak remembers the sharp citrus smell from some kind of lotion they used that wouldn’t properly leave the bathroom for the next two days.

Although Isak definitely didn’t enjoy the sharp sting the smell of lemons left him with, it did tell him that he needed a lotion of some kind and there was really only one place where he knew he could get it.

Which brings him to the place he’s refused to go to no matter how many times Eskild tried to bribe him with something.

Bogstadveien 31, Oslo – or more commonly known as Body Shop.

He hasn’t even entered the shop yet, but he can see the rows upon rows of products. He can’t smell anything; the wind is too strong and cold to notice anything but the fact that it’s autumn, but he knows he’s going to be accosted by lots of varieties of smells as soon as he enters.

What he didn’t expect, however, was their system.

It really is rows upon rows and yes, there are signs to guide him along, but he doesn’t really know what he’s looking for anyway, and this is really only making him feel overwhelmed. He’s about to zip his jacket back up and just walk away when-

“Can I help you with anything?”

“Shit,” Isak curses as he nearly drops the bottle he’d been holding. The girl scatters over to help grab it as well, letting out a relieved sigh once it’s been put back onto the shelf. Clearly that bottle would’ve cost Isak a fair amount of money had he broken it. “I’m sorry about that.”

“No, no, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have startled you,” the girl apologizes, straightening out her shirt a bit. “But can I help you with something? You… look a bit lost.”

Isak scoffs. “That obvious, huh?”

She smiles apologetically.

“I just… need to figure my way around,” Isak shrugs, although he feels more like just running out of the shop.

“Well, the men’s section is down there,” she points to the left. It’s filled with black and blue bottles, not the light pastel ones in the rest of the shop and Isak’s stomach curls up at the thought of how wrong those would feel as well. “Or are you buying for your girlfriend?”

Girlfriend, that girl has just unknowingly saved Isak’s ass. He really should’ve thought about this a long time ago, after all, he did it with the sweater and Eva in H&M, why should this be any different?

Although, he isn’t going to lie about having a girlfriend. He’s past that part of his life. Never a-fucking-gain.

“Ah, no, it’s for my flat mate,” Isak stutters, and even though the girl nods along he still feels like she knows it’s really for him.

But once Isak recalls last autumn when Noora had come home from London heartbroken and distressed, despite being the one to end it, she probably could’ve benefitted from the lie he’s about to say rather than him asking who was going to live where.

“She’s just gotten dumped,” Isak continues to lie, “and, I don’t know, she doesn’t really feel like doing anything, but she used to do these ‘pamper nights’ with her friends, and I… yeah, I thought I could get her some stuff for that. I just… don’t really know what to get.”

The girl’s still staring at him, has been throughout his entire ramble, and Isak can feel a drop of sweat forming at his temple. She knows, of course she does, she’s seen right through him with those beady little eyes of hers and he should really just leave now before she starts laughing.

“That’s really kind of you, no it is,” she continues when Isak managed to sputter out a few unintelligible syllables. “I just have to ask if this is a really roundabout way of yours to get her to like you instead.”

And Isak doesn’t know how he manages it, but the squawk of laugh he ends up letting out in surprise is definitely the first time he’s ever managed to make that noise.

“Sorry,” he clears his throat, not managing to keep a few chuckles inside, “sorry, but the only person I’m interested in getting to like me is my boyfriend, and I dare say I’ve already done fairly well there.”

“Fair enough,” the girl smiles. “So, is there anything you know she likes?”

Yes, Isak is actually perfectly aware of what the metaphorical Noora likes.

“Scents,” he answers immediately. “Nothing, like, sour or super strong, sweet and fresh is more her way, but scented things are definitely something she uses. And, I don’t know, feeling smooth? Soft? Isn’t that a thing?”

The girl laughs. “That is a thing, yes,” she confirms and starts walking backwards, motioning for Isak to follow her. “Do you remember any scents she usually likes?”

“She’s got some lavender body-wash, so something that would go along with that?” Isak feels like a spy getting away with all of his lies, but every time he lets out a female pronoun he internally shrinks just a tiny bit more and feels his hands go slightly clammy.

“Well,” the girl starts, finally walking into one of the isles, “since smooth and soft is a thing, I’d say get her a lotion.” Isak swears he can hear a choir of angels singing in the background, God must be smiling down on him. “We’ve got different types of scents; you can try and sniff around a bit. Sweet and fresh, did you say?”

Isak nods and she pulls out a bottle. Isak can guess from the rose design scattered across the bottle what it’ll probably smell of.

“Give it a try,” she says, unscrewing the lid and holds it out to him, “they’re definitely sweet, but they can be a bit too much.”

Isak grabs onto the bottle, takes a big whiff… and immediately regrets it. “Definitely too sweet,” he manages between the small coughs.

The girl only grins whilst screwing the lid back on. “Yeah, I figured. The peach one might be good, especially with lavender,” she says, crouching down to get it.

Isak is definitely more tentative with smelling this one, clearly amusing the girl but he ends up needing to take a second whiff anyway.

It’s probably not as sweet as he would’ve originally liked, but to be honest, he quite likes the fruity smell it gives of, still keeping it fresh and far from overpowering. When he thinks of it mixing with the lavender he can already feel his mind falling into the right place.

“This one’s great,” and the girl grins in satisfaction.

“Alright then,” she says standing back up. “You’ve got a bathtub at your kollektiv?”

“Yes,” Isak answers, thinking back to his and Even’s home. It’s small, definitely too small for them to do anything properly in it. It takes up most of the space in the already too small bathroom and they usually skip using it in favor of the much quicker shower.

“A bubble bath is necessary, then,” she says and then they’re moving again.

Bubbles baths are all the way in the back, Isak learns, along with all the other bath products. There’s another one with roses he sees, and he also sees the way the girl smirks when she notices it as well. She doesn’t comment on it, though, only pulls out a few different bottles and has Isak sniff them. None of them feel right, though, and she ends up agreeing they probably wouldn’t fit with lavender and peaches.

“What about this one?” she asks, holding out one with jasmine.

It’s really only Isak’s curiosity that’s keeping him there by now. He feels like he’s playing with fire the longer he stays there, certain that at one point they’ll figure out it’s all for him and he’s getting a bit of a headache from smelling all of the odd scents right after the other.

He ends up liking the jasmine one, though, so he holds onto that as well.

“Great,” the girl smiles. “Now, what about…” and she’s off again. Isak’s clearly given her too much power and she must know she’s getting closer and closer to abusing it. She’s a good sales-person though, Isak has to give her that, and he definitely wouldn’t have been able to figure out how to get the lotion and bubble bath he’s now holding.

She ends up getting sidetracked along the way, though, when she sees the isle with scents for the home, and grabs him a vanilla-scented candle, and then she’s moving on.

Isak finally catches up with her at the back-wall.

“Pomegranate,” is the only thing she says as she holds a dark purple tinted bottle out to him. “It’s a cleanser so it’ll help with her skin and it’s also great at removing makeup.”

It’s amazing how quickly a clump forms in Isak’s throat, making it difficult to swallow. He tries to clear his throat, but it really doesn’t do anything to help it.

“Yeah, that’s good,” is the only comments he gives, surely he’ll see through him if they stay on the topic of makeup – he’ll be fucked-

“Speaking of, is she one of those girls who feel empowered by makeup? Because if she is-“

“Yeah, but,” Isak hurries to interrupt, “she’s really particular about her brands and colors, so… I figured I’d be playing it safe by getting her those things instead.”

The girl only shrugs before leading him over to the cashier. “That’s fine, but if you change your mind you know where to find us.”

Isak hurries to thank her; both for her offer as well as her help and promises he will before he pays a dizzyingly large amount of money for the products.

He ends up needing to sit down at a bench he finds at the end of the street and simply breathe for a few minutes.

When he gets back up, though, he doesn’t regret a single thing.


Isak ends up only needing to wait another week before he gets the opportunity to try all of the new things out.

Apparently, Even meeting up with Mikael, Yousef, Elias, Adam and Mutta was going to be a regular thing, although Even was just as hesitant about leaving Isak this time as he was the last.

Which is why, even once Isak managed to get him out of the door, Even had texted him when he’d arrived at the Bakkoush’s and hadn’t stopped since.

Even Kosegruppa


Elias wants to try his hand at vodka again


Tell him Eskild will welcome him back with open arms

And be safe <3


I will <3

What are you doing?


[sent a picture]




Actually not seeing as isopentane boils at room-temperature

I’m not even going to mention methane


You know other boyfriends get dick pics


Sana sends Yousef dick pics?


I hate you


Go spend time with your boys!!

Besides, I know for a fact you’ve got plenty of pictures of my dick

Hell, you’ve got several videos with it as well



Don’t do this to me


Love you too

Go have fun!

Isak still spends nearly ten minutes lying on the bed, simply staring at the ceiling, a position he’d been in fairly often back at the Kollektiv.

It feels better this time. Isak doesn’t feel the pressure or the rush of needing to do this now.

He gets up and walks over to the dresser. He’d put all the other products away, but he’d left the candle there so that he could try and gauge what Even’s reaction to it would be, but Even hadn’t even noticed it so that part of the plan had failed.

Isak takes it down from its place now, sneaking just a single sniff of it still unlit. The vanilla’s sweet and would probably make the whole apartment smell of freshly baked cake, he thinks as he pulls the lighter out from its place in one of the kitchen cabinets.

He can smell it as soon as he’s lit the wick on fire and he notices how calm his mind feels as he places the candle onto the counter in the bathroom.

It’s obviously not enough for him to find his way around, though, so he ruins the soft aesthetic and turns on the lights as well.

Next he moves towards the bathtub, the familiar splash of water hitting the bottom makes his stomach stir in anticipation.

He opens the cupboard and pulls out the razors, the shaving cream, the lotion, the bubble bath and the cleanser and lines all of them up on the counter.

The bubble bath is a must, as is the lotion because tonight’s the night and he’s finally going to see if shaving is something for him.

Isak picks up the bubble bath bottle, uncaps it and pours a dollop into the water now barely covering the bottom of the tub. The smell of jasmine fills the air quickly as Isak turns back around to the rest of the products.

Would shaving be easier were he in the shower? It’d be easier to twist and turn, but he decides against it anyway. It’d be silly to have a shower as he’s filling the bathtub. He’ll make do, otherwise he’ll just take a shower afterwards.

He places the shaving cream, razors and the body-wash on the edge of the tub methodically, enjoying displaying each item.

The lotion stays on the counter so that he can apply it once he’s gotten out. The cleanser does as well. Maybe he’ll try it, maybe he won’t, Isak hasn’t decided yet. It feels a bit over the top to try everything at once, but he’s too excited not to.

The scent of jasmine get stronger as he undresses, carefully folding each piece of the clothes he’d been wearing before putting them in the laundry basket. Next he turns the water off before letting himself drop into the water.

The water’s warm and the smell of jasmine is even stronger down there. He has to fold his legs up a bit in order to fit, but the second he leans back against the edge, Isak can feel all of the tension seep out of his body, letting himself relax, surrounded by warm water.

He can smell the vanilla slowly starting to mix with the jasmine. Isak shyly lifts his left hand out of the water, sniffing his wrist. He can’t smell anything but his own skin, he notes rather disappointedly. Maybe the jasmine doesn’t rub off, or he just hasn’t lain in it long enough.

It doesn’t matter, Isak thinks to himself as he sinks further down the tub, the water lapping at his shoulders and neck, wetting the ends of his hair.

He’d washed it this morning, already anticipating the night’s events and he’d wanted the soft, fluffy curls to be ready, so he lifts himself up again, just a tiny bit so the water won’t hit it.

There are bubbles everywhere covering up his body underneath the water. Some of the larger bubbles are showing interference colors, and Isak can’t help but scoop up a handful and play around with it.

He feels so spoiled. Well, he knows Even spoils him plenty, both Eskild and the boys and everyone else in the entire world having commented on how Even’s ready for Isak’s beg and whim, but this feels slightly different. This feels like Isak spoiling himself, doing something nice for himself and not for anyone else, even if he had liked for it to be Even’s chest he’d be feeling right now rather than the cold metal of the bathtub.

He lets himself soak for a few minutes before he grabs the lavender wash. He only takes a bit because he can smell how it overpowers the jasmine and the vanilla a bit too much as he opens the lid. He can still smell it on his skin though, and he knows Even will be able to do that as well once he’s gotten over his probable hangover in the morning.

Next comes the shaving.

Isak’s already decided to start with the armpits – they’ve got the smallest surface area and it’s the least likely place someone would look were he to accidentally show it off somehow, so it’s the perfect place to test his skills.

He gets the bottle, squirts out a small amount, lifts up his left arm and starts to spread it, watching it go from a clear liquid to a thicker layer of soap.

He grabs the razor next, puts a tiny bit of pressure against his skin and then, in one smooth motion, moves it from the top to the bottom.

It’s a smooth glide aided by the soap and Isak can’t help but stop and marvel at the strip of bare skin now revealed. He’s careful to hold the razor as he points his index finger to touch. The skin left behind is smooth as well and he can’t see nor feel a single strand of hair left behind.

Considering how it’d been the first time he’d even attempted something like this, Isak was definitely quite proud of himself.

It’s fun after that and the rest of the left side goes smoothly, as does the right even though it feels odd to use his non-dominant hand. No matter that, he’s still left unscathed and definitely now hairless.

Next, he lifts up his left leg and rests it on the edge of the bathtub. He spreads the soap all around his ankles, up his shins, over his knee and a bit up his thigh. His thighs are mostly hairless, but surely it won’t hurt.

Once Isak’s satisfied with the coat he grabs the razor once more, presses it against his mid-shin and repeats the smooth glide up towards his knee.

Alright, this is going alright, he thinks as he moves the razor down to the ankle, pressing it down and tries to repeat his success when –


Alright, so ankles and knees are a bit harder to do than shins and armpits Isak’s quick to find out when he manages to knick himself once again.

He hasn’t done all that badly he reckons when he goes to inspect what he’s managed to do so far. He’s finished with the ankle and most of the knee, his shin finished entirely along with his thigh.

It’s easier when you try to stretch your skin a bit to make the surface smoother, Isak thinks as he carefully works around the bumps in his knee.

The cuts are barely visible, he’s pleased to notice, only one of them bleeding a tiny bit, the rest nothing but a white line resembling and old, faded scar.

The right leg is easier, even though he has to bend himself at a bit of a weird angle to make room for himself and to see what he’s doing.

Once he’s finished, he props both of his legs up on the edge of the bathtub and slowly runs the palm of his hand across his skin.

It’s a bit damp, but that doesn’t disguise how smooth his legs feel, nothing but skin against skin and Isak can feel something in his belly stir from anticipation of seeing himself whilst wearing the clothes.

Speaking of…

Now comes the part that’s a bit more difficult.

Isak knows he’ll feel wrong wearing the panties if he isn’t hairless down there as well, and figuring this out is high on his list of priorities. The only risk, really, is that it’d be much more noticeable were he and Even to do something.

He’s going to have to risk it, though, Isak thinks as he drains a bit of the water, just to make it easier to see his groin.

It’s not like he’s really all that hairy – of course he’s got hair, but it’s nowhere near the mess he’s seen guys have in porn, and Even’s obviously never complained about it before.

It’s easy enough to do the top part, starting underneath his bellybutton and following his happy trail. He’s careful to move the razor around the base of his dick, making sure to go a ways down his inner upper thighs, just to get rid of all of it.

Moving around his perineum, hole and crack is a bit more difficult as he has no way of seeing what he’s doing. He lets his fingers feel it out first, making sure there’s nothing vital near the sharp knife that could be cut, and then lets the razor follow the same path.

Isak must admit, it feels a bit odd just to touch himself down there in a non-sexual context, just letting himself feel his body become smoother and smoother. A shiver goes through him.

There are tufts of shaving cream floating in the remaining water, mixing with the diminishing amount of bubbles when Isak finally gets out of the tub.

His skin feels more sensitive than it ever has and every brush of the towel sends bolts of electricity across his skin.

Isak feels… good, he realizes. About… everything, really. It’s the first time in months that his brain is quiet and he finds himself fully at peace. Well, nearly, but he forces himself not to imagine Even being at his side right now. Doesn’t let himself hope or dream about it happening in the future, either.

His skin is still damp with he grabs the lotion, exists the bathroom and goes to sit on their bed.

The cap snaps open and like with the body wash and the bubble bath, the scent of peaches is overwhelming for a moment. It’s a lot sharper than the other scents he’s currently wearing, and as he squeezes a dollop onto his hand, Isak can’t help but be glad that he has something to counterbalance the lavender and jasmine without being overpowering.

The liquid is white with a slight orange tint to it, and Isak presses a bit onto each leg before slowly smoothing it out across his skin, all the way down his shin, around his ankle, foot, in between his toes.

He enjoys the feel of it, Isak can’t help but notice when he moves on to the other leg. Not only the feeling of applying lotion, but all of it, really; being covered in scents, feeling the smoothness of his skin, seeing wispy blond curls out of the corner of his eye, seeing his legs, body, completely void of any hair, he feels…


God, he actually has to suck in a deep breath and stop what he’s doing when he realizes.

He can’t help but think back at the Isak who’d shut down his computer when he’d seen a Google image search result of a woman in lingerie surrounded by soft colors and feathers to the Isak currently sitting on his and Even’s bed, having just had a bubble bath and is currently pampering himself, preparing to actually wear lingerie.

It hurts too much to bear the thought right now, but he likes to imagine that in the future, there’s an Isak who’ll think back to this; to when he had to discover all of this on his own because he was too afraid, but that future Isak would be sitting exactly as he was now, only it would be Even’s hands running up and down his legs, slowing down the further he’d move up along his thigh, teasingly skimming his hip and groin before he’d go back to the other leg, start at the feet and then repeat until Isak would be groaning at him and Even would be laughing at his impatience.

For now, though, he moves on from his thighs to his arms, rubbing it on his wrist, forearms, over the elbow, all around the arm, making sure there’s enough for the area he actually shaved.

He finishes with the groin and then lets himself sit back and enjoy all of it for a moment as the lotion sets in. He’s slow to lift his wrist up towards his nose, careful to sniff, but he lets himself enjoy the scent fully.

He feels nervous about the next part, but he tries to force himself not to think too much about.

He’s just going to try it. Hopefully he’ll like it – after all, he did spend a lot of money on this, and if not, then at least he now knows he enjoys spoiling himself, his body and his skin.

He lays out all of the items on the bed, just like last time, the sweater at the far left and then the four pairs of underwear.

Isak ends up barely being able to look at the grey pair even though he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t let last time’s failure overshadow any possible successes this time would bring. Another time, he compromises with himself. It wasn’t the underwear’s fault and Isak knows that, but he’ll need to work a bit more on the accidental association his mind has formed.

He’s not really feeling the white pair – he thinks they may be a bit too bland for the mix of scents he can smell on himself, and he also thinks they may be too big of a contrast to the dark blue of the sweater.

Maybe, one day, he’ll get something in one of those soft, pastel colors he’d seen on Google and then they’ll feel right to wear.

Isak lingers at the red pair, runs his finger over the lace, following the shape of the flowers, but it feels too risky to wear them for the first time. Part of him still can’t seem to let go of the dream of slowly sliding them on whilst Even watches from the bed, but he’ll have to make do.

The black pair, he vividly remembers, had been more impulsively bought because of a sexual fantasy, and even though none of this, so far, has really been to… get him off or anything like that, all of this borders on being sexual as well as Isak just enjoying it.

Still, they end up being the pair he makes a grab for, moving towards the mirror before he can think about it too much.

Putting them on isn’t different from putting on any other piece of underwear he’s had to put on. They slide smoothly up one leg, then the other, and before his brain has managed to process what’s happening entirely, he’s tucked his balls up so they don’t pop out and his dick in underneath the waistband, and holy fuck, he’s actually wearing lingerie.


They actually sit very nicely, he’s pleased to note. The fit is perfect, no hard edge cutting into his skin, and they, surprisingly, manage to accommodate the bulge in the front they weren’t made to have any consideration of.

Still, it only makes the lace more protruding, and the small bow still sits nicely in the middle of the front.

Turning around, he can’t help but marvel at how they make his butt look.

He already knew his ass was great, Even specifically going out of his way to remind Isak of it at every possible moment, but this makes Isak realize how the lingerie doesn’t only make him feel pretty, they make him feel sexy.

God, the high rise of the panties shows off his cheeks, and the bit of lace in the top middle gives the viewer just a peak of the skin underneath.

He was right about his first instinct about the underwear, Isak can’t help but note, as he turns back around. It is a very harsh line between the black and the whiteness of his skin. Once he slides on the sweater, though, it’s much less noticeable, as he lets his hands run across his skin and the clothing, feeling the different types of smooth and soft.

His eyes are trying to take all of it in, but every time he does a sweep in the mirror he finds something new to focus on, and he feels great.

The only place he doesn’t linger is his face; the memory of how he’d looked with Vilde’s makeup on still a little too fresh and a little too close to something he wants as well for it not to put a damper on what he’s currently so happy with.

Because this, Isak can’t help but think to himself, is what makes him happy.


He doesn’t really do anything special when he lets himself enjoy his nights alone; nothing that he wouldn’t be doing anyway, but that’s something he really enjoys, how it feels completely normal to be leading his everyday life in a very different clothing style to what he usually wears.

He’s incredibly careful about all of it, though, making sure to wear sweatpants when he and Even go to bed so that Even won’t notice the smoothness of his legs. It’s more difficult to hide his crotch, but so far Even hasn’t said anything so maybe Isak’s in the clear.

It’s not every time he shaves – he doesn’t have to courage and Even would definitely notice if there was rarely any body hair on Isak, but on the nights he lets himself it feels extra special.

He feels happier, in general as well, because at least things have calmed down in his head, even if he’s still too weird about it to tell anyone, he’s not stressing himself about it too much any longer. He doesn’t know what any of it means, but maybe it doesn’t have any meaning after all, so he’ll let it be.

Especially when he can see the tension leaving Even’s body day by day and how Jonas’ skin around his eyes look a little smoother and how Mahdi laughs easier whenever Isak says anything.

So, things are, sort of, falling into place – more than they have been for a long time now. The only thing that isn’t…

Isak can’t help but note it the third time he’s spoiled himself; he’s standing in front of the mirror; hairless, smooth, soft, covered in lovely scents, but he doesn’t feel pretty anymore.

The first time he could abstract from his face because he had so many other things to look at, and even though he’s now tried the white and grey pair – he’s yet to wear the red pair of underwear, he stills wants to save it even if he doesn’t know what for – he no longer feels pretty, and he can count every knot in his throat and he must’ve eaten rocks sometime this day from how heavy he feels.

It’s like his eyes zone in on what he’s missing, he can’t look away and he can’t see anything but.

Because what he wants now, he already knows what is.

He can see it in his reflection when he decides he’s going to do it – he’s going to get it.

He’s going to wear makeup.


A year ago, makeup would’ve been his worst enemy. If anyone had come near him with the intention of putting it on him, he would’ve kicked up a fuss, shouted a lot of hurtful things and then locked himself in his room and stare at the poster with the model he’d hung above his bed.

Isak must admit, at least to himself that he does still feel, at least a little bit, weird about makeup, but not enough not to want it. It’s just odd to think of the him back then and the him who’s currently scrolling through Google’s image result of pretty to find the tutorial he’d watched what seems like so long ago.

It’s risqué – it’s so fucking risqué with Even sleeping right next to him, but it’s 2:55 in the morning and Isak can’t sleep and he knows he won’t be able to until he’s watched just a couple of videos. He just needs to find the one…

It’s moments like these that he regrets clearing his browsing history, reminding him of exactly why he’d stopped doing that, even if it was porn.

He’s scrolled further down than he remembers, and for a second he worries about the video being taken down, or had he just missed it, had it been moved down even further, had Google simply replaced it, what-


The picture is exactly as Isak remembers it – the girl holding the products and a few words to sell it all.

He glances at Even as the video loads. There’s a few dark shadows underneath his eyes that Isak knows are because of stress – probably a mix of schoolwork, regular work, and now Isak’s added crap, but he’s also calm and peaceful and Isak knows Even doesn’t sleep like that if something’s really bothering him, so he figures it’ll be okay, at least for now.

Although he’s not sure if he’ll survive the heart attack he gets when he realizes the headphones weren’t put in properly and the room is blasted with sound, quickly paused by Isak, but enough to make Even snuffle in his sleep before settling down again.

Fuck,” Isak breathes, resting his head against the wall before moving to fiddle with the cord.

If he’d been uncertain and nervous about watching before, it was nothing compared to how he feels now.

He watches Even for another ten minutes, making sure that he really is fully asleep, before he dares unpause the video. He spends the first few seconds without the headphones in his ears, just to ensure that Even really won’t hear anything. When he’s satisfied, he puts them in and rewinds the video to the beginning.

The girl is sweet; wide smile and wide-eyed as she introduces herself and the video. There’s a short montage of other similar videos she’s done and then she’s off.

Isak already knows what she’s going to say; he can vaguely remember it from the last time he watched, but his attention doesn’t waver. He’s enraptured as she dabs foundation onto her face and then smears it with an egg-shaped piece of foam.

It evens out her complexion, he sees that it does, but it also covers the small details that make up her face, like her freckles, and Isak thinks that foundation might be a bit too much for his taste.

God, he rubs his face and tries to shake the thoughts out of his head. First product in and he’s already not sure about it. Was he even sure about this?

As if on an instinctual subconscious level, his eyes are drawn to the drawer with his sweater and four sets of panties hidden in the bottom right corner.

Yes, he wants this.

So he goes back to the video where the girl is applying concealer under her eyes and on various blemishes, Isak already knows this part, has thought about it more than once whenever he got another small outbreak.

Then she continues with eyes. What really surprises Isak, though, is the amount of colors she uses, because he already knows the end result – it doesn’t really look like she’s wearing anything.

They’re all brown and orange shades, all very fitting with her skin color, and it really is a science to make a lot of makeup seem like nothing but your natural features. He can’t help but notice how delicate she is at holding the brushes and applying the color, though, and Isak knows that Even’s the artist so maybe eye shadow won’t be something for him as well.

He feels like he’s eaten stones for dinner. He’s disappointed with himself; no matter what the girl does all he can think is that he doesn’t want to do that, or he wouldn’t be able to do that.

He already knows what the video will end with; lip-gloss and then she’ll show it all off. He still lets it run all the way to the end where autoplay is trying to direct him automatically to the next video; another one of hers.

He stops it from happening and then hovers over the search bar.

Makeup for beginners he types out slowly, carefully pressing down each key. He doesn’t want to make any noise whatsoever, just in case.

Isak scrolls through the search results before finally deciding on one. It looks quite similar to the first one – the only one – he saw, but this girl doesn’t even bother using brushes, claiming you can get just as good a look as any other without one if you’re a beginner and don’t want to invest yet. Isak’s bank account is probably ecstatic.

She’s right, though, he can’t help but note when she’s finished. He can’t tell the two looks apart, despite obvious differences concerning the products.

This one doesn’t even use eye shadow; however she does go for both eyeliner and mascara. The eyeliner’s a bit too much, maybe. Too bold, Isak can’t help but think as he thinks of the soft look Vilde had given him. The mascara is a nice touch, though, and without fully realizing it, he’s sort of making a list in his head.

The next video he checks is how to color coordinate – both making sure the makeup suits your skin, but also how to create to overall look you’re going for.

It’s a long-ass video, but Isak doesn’t stop watching it; not even when the woman’s talking about the more edgy looks that he knows he has zero interest in.

The next video is about brands and products, and the one after that is about brands and products from a regular drugstore for when you’re on a budget but still want flawless makeup, and before Isak’s aware of anything else but the plethora of videos and new knowledge they’re offering him, it’s five thirty in the morning and Even’s alarm will go off in about 45 minutes.

Even snuffles besides him, nearly making Isak jump out of his skin. He lets out a small, relieved laugh, no more than a breath, when he sees that Even’s still asleep.

He doesn’t clear his browsing history, but he does open a lot of other, completely unrelated tabs that wouldn’t raise suspicion if Even were to check them out. It might be a bit risqué, but Isak, for some reason, wants to save them, just a bit longer, just in case he chickens out or doubts himself on the choices he’s made.

Because he has made a choice.

He’s going to do it.


They’re the basics, really, so even Isak shouldn’t be able to fuck it up completely.

The last two times he’d done this, gone out to buy something that didn’t target his gender, he’d accidentally had two people provide him with an explanation as to why he was the one to buy those types of items. This time, he had it covered.

“Yes, I’m here,” Isak says as he closes the shop door, “where did you say it was – never mind, I found it.”

He readjusts his hold on his phone; making sure to make it seem as if he’s actually talking to someone as he heads on down to the makeup-section in the back.

The shop is basically empty, which is both a blessing and a curse as it means that he’s more likely not to run into anyone he knows, but he can already see the two girls at the counter paying attention to him.

“What brand was it again?” he murmurs, just loud enough for the girls to hear, but not loud enough to make it seem like he isn’t having a private conversation in a public area.

He already knows exactly what makeup and which brands he wants; a mascara, a concealer, and a nude lip-gloss with a light pink tinge to it. He’s planned ahead, already looking at long lists online and found exactly what it is he needs. Now, he just need to make sure they’re the right match for him.

Isak makes himself stop, as if deadpanning. “I’m not doing that.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see he has the girls’ full attention, which was what he’d feared before coming up with the plan.

“No, I’m not -,” do the dramatic pause, and – “fine. This better come off!”

He traps his phone between his cheek and shoulder before rolling up the sleeve of his left arm, and then grabs the concealer he wants labeled ‘tester’.

“Yes – Hold on a second, would you? I’m doing it, alright?” He uncaps it and twists the bottom so the stick pops out before smearing it onto his wrist. It’s a lot wetter than he’d anticipated, but its coverage is thick and he likes the look and feel of it. It’s just a shade too dark though, so he grabs the one a shade lighter and tries that one.


He grabs a packaged one and then moves onto the next shelf. Mascara he reads, and then spends the next minute trying to find the exact one he’d been looking at online and grabs that as well. He ‘hmm’s into the phone as if listening to something being said.

Now, the only one left was the lip-gloss, which, coincidentally, was the same brand Eva had been looking at when he’d gone shopping with her. It seems like ages ago now.

He ‘hmm’s once again and twists the small containers around, as if reading their titles. He pulls one out, a nude one with a rose tint to it, and subtly tries to compare the color with his skin color.

It doesn’t look half bad, he thinks. It’s definitely the prettiest one he can find, and he doesn’t dare stay too long just in case it would make it seem like he actually was browsing rather than doing a quick shop for his female-friend-who-needs-him-to-pick-up-makeup-for-her, making her possibly come off as his girlfriend.

“Yeah, I got it all,” he says as he heads on over to the cashier, “I’ll see you later, then. Ha det,” hangs up and puts his phone into his pocket before he gets there. “Hi,” he greets the girls with a bit of an exhausted smile. He really is too good at playing straight when he doesn’t actually have to kiss any girls or make homophobic comments.

Both the girls are slightly more giggly than they probably would have been otherwise and, Isak notes with delight, they both tease him for having to buy makeup for his girlfriend.

“I know. This better come off,” he grins and holds out his wrist. The girls laugh as he hands over the money.

He stuffs the bag they give him into his backpack and counts the steps he takes until he’s finally outside.

Mission accomplished.


The bathroom mirror is still a bit fogged up by the time Isak has finished washing his face with the pomegranate face wash and applied the peach scented lotion to his newly-shaved body. Now, finally, comes the next part.

He’s holding the concealer in his hand, already opened and ready to use, whilst he stares at his reflection.

Isak already knows where he needs to put it; underneath his eyes – he really should gather the courage to tell Even so he wouldn’t constantly be spending the nights awake – and on the spot that had been growing on his forehead. Maybe just a few dabs here and there, as well, just to even out his complexion.

He blends it in and even though he still remembers when Vilde did it, it surprises him how quickly he can see the difference.

He looks so much better, much more healthy, and for some reason it makes him feel more healthy; Isak feels how his spine straightens and he smiles as he feels the smooth glide of the sweater against his arm as he raises it to open the mascara.

He untwists it and pulls the wand out, smearing some of the excess on the edge of the bottle.

He’s careful not to get too close to his eye; he’s all too much aware of how much substances can hurt in your eye, thank you Even, but Isak doesn’t like how it’s really only the tips of his eyelashes that turn darker, so he takes a deep breath, holds it, and then carefully moves the wand closer.

Next, he looks up and hopes for the best for his lower lashes. It doesn’t look half bad, he notes with glee as he moves onto the other eye. Pretty great, actually, especially considering how he’s all alone doing this, has no guiding hand to help him, and never really expected for this to be a thing he’d need to do.

He saves the lip-gloss, though, because they’d clash with the red of the cherry panties which he’d – finally – put on, because this

This feels so special. For once, he knows the knots in his stomach are because he’s excited; excited to wear this, to look like this, to feel like this, because he finally feels like himself again; a better version of himself.

He feels himself smile more than he sees it before he turns slightly bashful. God, this is it.


The lip-gloss doesn’t leave his mind, though. Not for the entire Friday night, not for the weekend, and definitely not for the entire Monday that he spends absentmindedly thinking about it, making both the guys and Sana worry that something is going on.

Isak knows he has to do it when he comes home, he has to apply it and try it and feel it.

He’s only let out an hour earlier than Even and twenty minutes of that hour he has to spend commuting, but he can’t spend another entire day in this agony, in this sort of limbo, so he rushes up the four flights of stairs before finally unlocking their front door.

It doesn’t feel as special as it would’ve had he been wearing the sweater and the lingerie, feeling as pretty as he possibly could, but it still is special and he can’t wait until Friday to do this.

He fishes the lip-gloss out of the bathroom drawer, letting himself just enjoy looking at the printed cutout of the color before untwisting it.

It smells of raspberries, which was what he’d specifically looked for; still remembering how Vilde’s had been strawberry flavored and had smelled nice when she’d opened the bottle.

It’s slightly sticky when he applies it, getting it on a bit unevenly. He has to get a piece of toilet paper and dab as the side of his mouth where he’d applied too much. He purses his lips together, smacking them slightly, as he makes sure his bottom and upper lip are evenly coated and there’s no lip-gloss on his skin. Then, he can finally step back and just look.

He likes it. God, does he like it. It makes his eyes zero in on his lips which look bigger and bolder. He loves the color; just on the right shade of light pink to make him aware that he’s actually wearing color on his lips.

It makes his lips look enticing, as if he’d been kissing Even for hours and now they’re swollen and sore in the best way possible and so impossibly red.

Kissing Even makes him think of other things his lips have done to Even, and he feels a surge through his stomach as his dick twitches at the thought.

God, he can’t get the image out of his head; his lips like this wrapped around Even’s dick, how Even would be looking down at him, holding his curls in a tight grip as he takes what he wants and Isak can feel how hard he’s already getting.

He sticks two fingers in his mouth, groaning when he sees how it looks, how it would look it was Even’s fingers in his mouth, getting them wet, spreading them out around his tongue, going back a bit too far just to remind him of how it feels when his mouth is stuffed full with Even’s dick.

It’s not enough though, but the only thing that would be is something he’s not letting himself have.

Yet, he tries to convince himself.

So, he’ll have to find a substitute.

He nearly runs out to the freezer to search through it. He knows they’re there from when Even had developed an obsession with them during the hot summer months, immensely teasing him at every single possible moment.

There, thank God, he finds the Smårollinger he knew Even had saved, just in case he felt like some.

He unwraps the ice cream, leaving the wrapper on the kitchen counter, before hurrying back into the bathroom.

It’s definitely not the same girth as he’s used to, but he sees how his lips wrap around the treat, slowly sucking it in, hollowing his cheek, moving his tongue around. His dick twitches where it’s trapped.

The ice cream is running, making his fingers sticky and he sees the traces of lip-gloss left when he draws his lips back again and, god, fuck, that would be on Even’s dick, and Isak doesn’t think he’s ever felt so close without touching himself or being with Even.

He loves this, absolutely loves this, he thinks, as he licks all the way from the bottom of the ice cream to the top, even if he feels a bit silly simulating a blowjob with an ice cream.

God, this feels good, would feel so great if he could-

“Isak? You home, baby?”

Isak goddamn near chokes on the ice cream as he throws it into the sink. His mind is racing and his heart is pounding in fear of Even finding him. God, what if he does?

He has to wash the lip-gloss off, Isak knows, so he turns the faucet on as high as it can get, scrubbing his lips raw and accidentally biting it in his desperation. The lip-gloss he has to throw into the pocket of his hoodie until he can get away to properly hide it.

“Baby, you in here?” Even knocks on the bathroom door.

“Yeah,” Isak splutters, rubbing his mouth on the towel, trying to see if there’s any color left or if it’s just his lips looking irritated and sore as hell.

“Hi,” Even says, smiling widely as he opens the door.

“Hey,” Isak greets back and goes over to kiss him hello.

He tries not to think of the ice cream slowly melting in the sink, or of the lip-gloss is currently burning a hole through his pocket, or how a minute ago, he’d been so happy and comfortable with himself but now he just feels ashamed again.

He especially tries not to think about how he’d been so sure he’d be able to tell Even soon, but now the thought of it makes him want to jump out of the window.

He’ll get there, maybe, hopefully, one day, he thinks to himself as Even smiles down at him, rubbing his nose along his.


Despite not being close enough to being able to tell Even about all of this, Isak starts feeling more comfortable with other parts.

The lavender body-wash, which Even already knew about, stays in his everyday life, as does the flowery shampoo he’d found which leaves his hair with volume and lots of softness. The makeup doesn’t, the clothes don’t and the shaving and lotion also don’t, but he’s not so sad about it when he knows that Even’s aware of at least a small part of it and he accepts it.

Isak’s definitely aware of just how accepting Even is – buried deep inside of him, moving with these forceful thrusts that leave Isak unable to speak or make any sound whatsoever because of how good he feels.

God, you’re so good,” Even groans as he runs his nose along his neck, stopping every once in a while to leave a bruise behind, before finally burrowing his face in the space between Isak’s ear and hair, breathing in deeply. “Smell so good, look so good, feel so good, baby, so soft,” running his hands along Isak’s legs, up his thighs before finally pressing into his hips and groin, making Isak groan and clench down.

Isak knows he isn’t as soft as he could’ve been right now, always taking the precaution of neither shaving too often nor shaving when he knows he or Even would most likely have sex within the next couple of days. He knows Even’s able to feel the coarse stubble that just barely coats his legs, but that doesn’t stop Even from not being able to keep his hands off of him, nor from grabbing onto his hair, making Isak keen from the pull.

“Come on, baby, be good for me.”

Isak knows Even’s close, can feel his body trembling and his breathing pick up even further, letting out more moans.

“Need a hand tonight?” Even murmurs, already moving his unoccupied hand towards Isak’s dick before Isak manages to intercept it and instead cling on to it desperately.

“No,” Isak groans, “I’m so close.” He hasn’t wanted a hand for the past how-many-times. It’s not exactly the same as the night, but it’s the closest he dares before he’s actually ready to tell Even.

He really is close, though, and it doesn’t take more than another pull and another dirty promise from Even before he’s done for, Even following close behind.

Isak curls up next to Even afterwards, as he always does, feigning sleep and not daring to look towards their dresser before he knows Even’s fallen asleep.

Right now, though, there’s no problem.


It turns into a problem. Very. Quickly.

It still feels very sudden to Isak. One day he’s perfectly satisfied (and definitely not lying to himself about it) about having his pamper nights and letting himself do what he wants on those nights only. The next day, however, that simply isn’t enough for him.

Because suddenly, wearing boxers or briefs at all just feels so terribly wrong and not Isak at all, and every single morning when they’re getting dressed, he feels his sight become horrifyingly blurry and Even notices, of course he does, and Isak thinks that Even might think he’s getting bullied and that’s why it’s so difficult for him to get up every morning and Friday is the only weekday where it’s sort of okay.

He feels like he can’t take his eyes off of the bottom drawer in the dresser, and even if he’s not in the room at all, he still can’t stop thinking about it. It’s becoming an obsession and he’s getting distracted again, making everyone around him worry that maybe he’s relapsing.

He’s not. He won’t let himself.

Meaning, he already knows what he has to do, what is needed, because he’s already been through this so many times. If he doesn’t just let himself do it, it’s going to fester and then he’s going to get bad again.

And when Even had been informed that he had to pick up a shift Thursday afternoon throughout the evening, and with Thursday already being Even’s least favorite day because of his busy schedule  at school, Isak knows that he can’t let this opportunity pass him by.

He’s restless the entire day, but maybe his friends are getting used to him acting bizarrely as they barely blink an eye at him and Jonas doesn’t even try to get him to talk.

The walk from Nissen to the tram takes ages and Isak already knows not to hope for a seat at this time; too close to rush hour. Last year he’d had Even to lean up against, would’ve perhaps even had to hide how hard Even was trying to get a reaction out of him in public. This year he gets to stand by himself and look at his phone to seem busy and unapproachable.

The tram is slow on a good day, but this day it feels like it takes at least one more hour before Isak reaches his stop, even though he knows it’s only because he’s anticipating what’s about to happen.

It’s definitely what’s making him feeling more nervous than anything, but Isak still decides that the fact that he can’t get his key to fit into the door to their apartment complex to fit and that he trips over the second flight of stairs can be chalked up to the universe being against him.

His own front door at least cooperates, he thinks as he shuts it and takes a moment to just rest up against it, slowly in- and exhaling before his heart isn’t pounding uncontrollably anymore.

At first he decides to ignore how his heart is being tugged by an invisible string towards the drawer and instead goes to get himself a glass of water.

It feels rather tedious to pull the glass out of the cupboard and wait for the water to turn cold, but focusing on something mundane is an advice Isak remembers Eskild giving him back when he’d started living in the Kollektiv’s basement and had been stressing about his parents and sexuality and life in general. It used to frustrate him so much, because how could he even begin to think about cooking dinner when there was so much going on in his life right now.

Eskild’s advice didn’t help him back then and it surely does nothing for him now, either, he notes helplessly as he puts the glass in the sink and leaves it there to deal with later.

There’s no moving around it, it has to happen now, Isak thinks to himself, trying not to psych himself out of the plan as he moves into the bedroom.

It should be a comfort to be in his own home, but instead his palms are sweating and his heart is beating far too quickly.

He’s just going to do it, he knows; like ripping the band-aid off quickly. But Isak never learned to do that, instead he would pick at it until it slowly came off, pulling off each hair individually, making it hurt much more.

This time, though, he rips it off.

He nearly runs towards the dresser and doesn’t even see which pair he pulls out. The grey, he notes absentmindedly when they lay on the bed as he’s taking off his pants and underwear.

It doesn’t feel quite as right as it usually does. It feels more like the first time where he’d been so impatient to try them on that everything felt wrong, because it’s Thursday now; it’s been nearly a week since he last shaved so his legs are prickly with stubble. Furthermore, he can only faintly smell the lavender in his hair, and the only other thing he’d be able to do right now is light the candle, but Isak’s too afraid that he won’t have enough time to air it out again.

At least he doesn’t fully stink of smelly-teenage-boy as he might’ve before all of this began.

Still, he rips off his boxers, carelessly throwing them onto the floor, not really stopping to see what he’s doing before he’s pulling up the panties, tucking his cock and balls to make them fit comfortably.

He looks a bit more like… a boy, Isak can’t help but note as he manages to glance at himself in the mirror. It’s not that this has ever been about not being a boy, definitely hasn’t struck his mind that he’d rather be a girl, it’s more so that he can’t help but notice more masculine features that leave him with a lack of happiness that only feeling soft and pretty can give him.

Still, Isak continues, looking away from the mirror and pulling up his pants, tucking his shirt down.

It feels a bit… odd. It’s most certainly not the same feeling as the one he gets on his pamper nights, but he can still feel the lace shifting over his body when he moves his thighs and that alone is enough to send a spark of something through his body.

Isak definitely still prefers being able to just wear the panties and the sweater, but he must admit that he does feel better in his skin even though his jeans and t-shirt aren’t soft, but… it’s closer to what he’s really longing for and that means he’ll take it.

He tries to focus on just everyday things, he really does. He fishes out his computer and throws himself onto the bed before opening up the essay he has to write for Norwegian.

Isak can’t really concentrate, though. Not when he both knows and feels how he’s not wearing his regular underwear right now; can feel the soft, delicate material whenever he shuffles around, which he admittedly does a lot more than he really needs to. Henrik Ibsen is unquestionably not as important.

Which means he switches to his regular chemistry homework.

It’s definitely better. His concentration doesn’t waver as much and as long as he doesn’t look at what he’s wearing but just lets himself focus on feeling what’s underneath his everyday t-shirt and jeans, he can feel the happiness and content surge through him.

He puts on music when it’s time to prepare dinner. Even’s left instructions on the fridge and all that needs to be done is chop the vegetables and put them and the chicken thighs in the oven, and then Even will be home in time to cook some pasta to go along with it.

Isak puts his playlist on shuffle and enjoys just moving along softly to the music, humming along every once in a while as he lets himself just live in the moment.

He obviously can’t move his arms around much with the large chopping knife he’s using for the carrots, which means he just lets his hips do all of the work. He’s grinning the entire time – something that never happens when he’s cooking unless he’s doing it with someone else – as he shuffles over to the oven to preheat it.

He’s feeling… good. Good about this, good about himself, and for a moment he almost feels so light that it feels like he’s floating around in their tiny kitchen that definitely needs to be cleaned soon.

He changes out of the panties with plenty of time before Even’s due back, hand-washing and letting them soak for a tiny bit before leaving them to dry.

They won’t be fully dry in time for Even’s arrival, but they’ll mostly be there, and Isak doesn’t really mind if they end up wrinkled from being folded together and stuffed into the drawer. He especially doesn’t care today.


The thing about Isak letting himself do something that he wants is that his he’ll give his mind that tiny bit of time to try it out, and then his mind will want that every single day.

But Isak knows he really can’t afford that. He can’t just be walking around everyday wearing lingerie. Not only is he in school five days a week, one of them he even has P.E. and that is not something he wants his classmates to see, but the other four he knows he’d just be feeling paranoid every single minute of the day, his mind trying to convince him that everybody knows what you’re wearing and just the thought of it makes his eyes water and body itch. The weekend is also a big no because Even, duh.

But trying to go back to only having his pamper nights Friday evening hurts for some reason. He’s had a taste of the forbidden fruit and now he wants more.

It especially hurts as he’s lying in the bathtub surrounded by sweetly smelling bubbles, his legs propped up over the edge and he can’t stop staring at them, because he knows Even’s going to be smoking tonight and then he’ll come home with a bit for Isak as well and both of them being high only leads one place.

Whilst, yes, he definitely loves what they’ll probably end up doing and wants to as well, it also means that he can’t shave right now. Even though Even’s going to be high, there’s no way he’s going to be high enough to forget about his hairless boyfriend.

It usually wouldn’t hurt this much, Isak knows.

Some Fridays he just can’t get to shave, and that’s alright, there’s always next Friday, but for some reason, this hurts and he can feel his chest constrict and suddenly, taking him completely off guard, a sob tears its way out of his mouth and then the tears are spilling and he’s gasping for air.

The water’s cold by the time he gets out, bathwater sloshing around with his movements. He doesn’t get around to rub on lotion or wash his face or try on his outfits. He just goes and lays down in bed, tossing and turning a bit, before falling asleep.

He wakes up when Even gets home, but he can feel how close he still is to crying, so when Even notices he’s asleep and tries to move around quietly as to not wake him – even though he’s high and clearly making a ruckus – Isak pretends he’s still asleep, even as he hears Even let out a small, sad sigh that makes Isak’s insides churn and his heart ache.

It can’t go on like this. It really can’t.

Isak can’t just break down whilst taking a bath, and if it means taking more of a risk, then so be it.

Come Tuesday, he’s been sweating the entire day, but he knows what he’s about to do it necessary, for the benefit of his mental health.

There’s only an hour between Isak getting home to Even getting off from work, but that’s going to have to make do.

It’s the black pair this time that Isak throws on before pulling his jeans back up.

It still feels good, Isak didn’t expect for it to anything but, but he’s not as relaxed this time as he knows he’s on a limited time frame.

Still, he mocks about his day as he usually does; tidying just a little bit, checking what food’s missing for when they need to go grocery shopping, he even delves just a little bit into the budgeting to make sure everything’s taken care of.

He doesn’t have a lot of time to spare between packing the underwear away and Even walking into the flat, smiley and excitedly telling Isak about his day as he goes over to greet him with a kiss.

Isak’s more anxious about the ordeal this time, but he still feels good.

Come Friday, he just lets himself lean back as he smears his body with the peach-scented lotion and lets the smell overpower his senses.


It starts to become a regular thing. Or, a more regular thing. It’s not as if he only wears lingerie now, he only really puts it on when he knows there’s seemingly no risk of being discovered.

The dangerous part about letting himself do it so much, though, is the fact that he becomes used to it, in a sort of way.

Don’t get him wrong, they still feel special and he definitely still feels pretty and everything he wants when he wears them, but he’s no longer a novice at how it feels to wear them.

The only time it’s ever managed to frighten him, though, was when he’d gone to the grocery store and come home only to remember he’d been wearing the lingerie whilst there.

Isak knew nobody had discovered it, but he still refused to go with Even the next time they needed to visit the shop.

Still, he tentatively starts to wear the panties more and more often. Never during the school day which is quite easily ensured as he gets dressed with Even in the morning (sometimes even undressed). And to be honest, it only starts to feel liberating when he can even manage to forget entirely that he’s wearing them as it only means he’s finally comfortable enough to do that.

He even starts getting more into the swing of things. Sana’s now not the only one to do all of the work and she even asks Isak for notes one day – a miracle in itself. Jonas starts to come to him for advice once more. Mahdi doesn’t hesitate to teasingly pick on him at any given chance.

And then there’s the one that warms Isak’s heart the most.

Even starts drawing again.

Even’s busy, Isak knows that, but ever since that evening so long ago by now that had ended up entirely not how Isak had planned, Even hasn’t touched his sketchbook.

Now, though, as they’ve both managed to be home at the same time, Even has moved one of their chairs into the kitchen and is using a corner of the counter as a table, whilst Isak – once again – is chopping up various ingredients for dinner, shuffling along to the songs Even decides to play.

“Looking good,” Even teases in an overly-exaggerated American accent, grinning from ear to ear when Isak starts laughing.

Herre Gud, don’t ever do that again.”

“Oh, little darling,” Even continues, standing up and moving towards Isak with the oddest form of a swagger, following the beat of the music.

No, dear God,” Isak throws his head back to look dramatically at their ceiling.

“Look at you, my little housewife,” Even says, crowding up against Isak, forcing his lower back to press into the counter a bit.

Isak laughs. “You sound like you’re coughing up hairballs when you say it like that.”

“Whifphe,” Even repeats, nosing along Isak’s jawline, up his cheek. Isak can feel how his body shakes from suppressed laughter. “My very own trophy wife.”

“Trophy husband, excuse you,” Isak corrects, imitating Even’s accent and pronouncing it hwushbrand, holding Even by his neck as he pulls his face closer to his own.

Isak had definitely expected to be kissed in the not so distant future, and then that would be that and he’d go back to preparing for dinner. He didn’t expect how Even’s eyes would darken and his mouth open and his cock twitch against Isak’s thigh as the reaction to the word ‘husband’.

“You’re going to be that for me?” Even questions, voice hushed and back to Norwegian. “Going to marry me?”

Maybe it should’ve felt a bit like whiplash how fast the atmosphere has changed from goofing off to this serious, sexual tension, but to be honest, that’s what their entire relationship has been like.

Isak tilts his chin up a bit, wetting his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, paying attention to how Even’s eyes follow the movement before meeting his gaze again.

“There’s only ever going to be you.”


“Yeah. Isak Bech Næsheim sounds too good to waste,” he tries to joke, but the groan Even lets out at hearing it out loud certainly makes Isak’s own dick rapidly start to chub up.

The kiss is slow and drawn out compared to how desperate they’re both starting to feel, but they both know it carries out a promise of more, so they let it be what it is, content to just continue to slow pace and savor the moment.

The doesn’t mean they keep still though.

Isak is grabbing onto Even’s hair, slowly twisting the locks in his grip, coaxing a noise out of Even every time he pulls slightly.

Meanwhile, Even’s hands are slowly moving down Isak’s shoulders, over his chest, running along the lines his abs form, all the way down before teasingly moving his fingers along the button on his jeans, but never moving forward to pop them open.

Even grins against Isak’s lips when Isak groans from the frustration of Even’s teasing.

“Come on,” Isak mumbles against Even’s lips, hands moving down to Even’s lower back, tightening his grip and subsequently forcing his hips to press harder into his own.

Even’s only response is to continue grinning before slightly biting down on Isak’s lower lip, pulling it back to watch it snap back in place, before mirroring Isak’s position.

They stay like that for a little bit, lips just moving against lips, before Even’s hands start to wander again, fingers just teasing against the hem of Isak’s jeans before sliding his hands down fully, roughly grabbing each cheek in each hand.

That’s when... they both, freeze.

Isak feels Even tense up before his mind fully realizes the situation, and then


Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck.

Of course, of fucking course this had to happen to Isak, because of course he had to wear the panties and of course he had to forget he was wearing them when Even had come home.

Isak’s hands are clenched, holding onto the fabric of Even’s sweatshirt tightly, hands shaking. He doesn’t even dare meet Even’s eyes, instead focusing on what he can see when he keeps his head level – Even’s cupid’s bow – not daring to see what Even looks like right now.

He doesn’t see Even’s facial expression or how his eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, but Even most certainly sees how Isak is shaking and is wide-eyed from panic. None of it lessens when Even finally opens his mouth to say something.


Chapter Text

Even loves Isak.

It seems to have become general knowledge by now. The sky is blue. Baz Luhrmann is the greatest director (notice he isn’t the greatest ever, because that’s also Isak). Cakes are delicious. Even loves Isak.

The only one, who, apparently, doesn’t seem to know this, is Isak.

And Even could kick himself, honestly, because how could this magnificent boy not know something like that?

Even has his flaws – they both do, really, but one of Even’s isn’t the fact that he’s not an attentive boyfriend. He knows something’s been going on with Isak.

The thing is, Isak’s been acting strangely for months now. And Even is definitely the most desperate person he’s ever met and he’s most certainly been desperately wanting for Isak to tell him what’s wrong, because of course he has noticed something’s up.

Admittedly, Magnus most certainly helped him notice it in the beginning; the text he’d sent telling him to thank Isak for being so nice to Vilde and letting her put makeup on him even though that wasn’t really Isak’s thing, and that he hoped Even liked how it looked with a winky-face.

And Even had been all smiles and ready for Isak’s silly posing on the bed, showing off his face. Instead he came home to Isak being twitchy and nervous with red, irritated skin and all Even could think about was that it must’ve hurt to take the makeup off if that’s what he looked like afterwards. He must’ve been desperate to get rid of it.

The last bit is why Even decides not to say anything about Magnus’ text and instead deletes it off of his phone. Just in case.

To be honest, even if Magnus hadn’t said anything, Even still would have noticed, because Isak won’t meet his eyes. He won’t come near him and no matter how hard he tries to hide it, Even knows he’s not sleeping during the night.

At first, as usual, Even had started to blame himself. Was Isak having second thoughts? He’d tried to warn him that he would be a handful – always would be – to be with and to live with, but he’d also really thought they could overcome it, together.

He knows Isak notices how he’s struggling as well, and as always – Even’s lovely, lovely boy – he makes sure to reassure Even that whatever it is that’s going on, it’s not about them, neither as a couple nor individual people.

It only serves to lessen some of the guilt Even constantly lives with, which means Even still spends every minute of the day worried about Isak. He tries not to show it too much though. He doesn’t want Isak to feel… trapped, or anything like that. Even knows all too well how it feels to have people crowded around him, trying to get him to talk. He hated it, still hates it in fact, and he doubts Isak, or anybody else, really, would appreciate it either.

He thinks Jonas might’ve succeeded in getting something through to Isak, though, when Isak one day comes home after school, seeming both more tense, but also a little softer around the edges, like maybe things aren’t as bad as he’d made them out to be in his head. They always greet each other with a kiss, but this day Isak stays in Even’s space, head tilted back, eyes crinkling from a small smile, silently asking for more kisses which Even happily indulges with.

That softness leaves again the following week; the day Even knows Isak’s spending with Eva. He’s curious as to what they’re doing, though, as they usually pop into Kaffebrenneriet where Isak would shamelessly be eye-fucking Even across the room whilst Even tries to actually pay attention to the costumers and their orders so that he won’t lose his job, Isak, you’re really not helping, baby.

This time, though, he doesn’t see a trace of them and he spends his shift actually paying attention to the costumers, and to be honest, the experience is entirely less fun without Isak. Not that he doesn’t know that already, though, as he picks up shifts pretty much every other day.

Even knows Isak and Eva did something different that day, but he doesn’t really expect to find Isak in their flat, fidgety, flushed and nervous, heart beating too fast and too hard in his chest, always looking at their dresser out of the corner of his eye, and if Even didn’t know better, he would’ve almost started to believe that the problem could be drugs.

Even’s stressing over whatever it is Isak’s stressing about. Along with that, there’s university and new people and parties and homework and teachers and classes, and Even’s spread pretty thin. Which is why when he finished his last class of the day, he’d already made his mind up about what he wanted to do that evening.

Drawing was always rather therapeutic for him. All he had to think about were lines and shapes and colors; all of which he’s already contemplating when he creates short videos in his mind.

It’s also in a moment like this, that Even really wished for Isak that he had something like that as well, but they’re two individual people and Isak just doesn’t work like that; would probably only be frustrated when the drawing wouldn’t look exactly as he’d imagined it, so Even lets him be with his laptop, stretched out on the bed as he lays out his materials and paper on their table.

Even… hasn’t actually thought this far though, has only played out the relaxing evening in his head without actually thinking about what he’s going to draw, so he resorts to his first choice and draws Isak.

His boy is lovely; he really, really is, but the more Even draws the more details he’s paying attention to.

Isak’s eyes are hard as they’re staring at the screen, his arms are rigid and his breathing is far too controlled. Even knows what all of this means; Isak’s tense and nervous but about what?

Even only feels slightly less anxious about what’s going on when he notices how soft Isak goes when looking over at Even drawing, how he sinks into the bed, and Even can’t help himself when he sees Isak likes that; can’t help but flirt with his boy a little.

Isak only huffs and groans but Even knows he wouldn’t change any of it for anything. They both go back to what they were doing and Even’s pleased to note that Isak continues to be relaxed, despite obviously having gone back to what he was previously doing.

Thoughts are racing through Even’s mind about what on earth could be bothering Isak so much. The only thing he keeps going back to is the makeup and how Isak’s been stealing Even’s larger hoodies that he keeps around for when he’s feeling down, and how Isak’s been washing his hair more often, letting is fall in soft curls around his face rather than hidden away in his snapbacks.

What does all of it mean, though?

Does Isak want to try new things? That would go along well with the makeup, but why not say something? Is he scared of what Even would say? Does Isak think he needs to wear makeup, like some girls he knows who only wear it because you’re supposed to or because it’s at least a small improvement from how they usually look? Does Isak not like the way he looks? Is that why he’s been hiding away in Even’s hoodies?

Does his baby not think he’s lovely?

Even’s heart has definitely sunk down to his stomach at that thought. How would that tie into the makeup, though? Or are the two even related?

He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t even notice Isak looking over at him with a soft smile on his face, before asking him about his drawing.

Even relaxes a bit at the sight and lets Isak fold himself around him as he looks at the drawing of himself.

The thoughts don’t leave his mind, though, even when he’s teasing Isak or kissing him or when Isak drops to his knees and sucks him down.

Even can tell how pleased Isak is with himself as he bobs his head, eyes half lidded, mouth stretched wide. Can tell how much he loves the sight when he has to pull off to groan into Even’s hip.

And Even decides to take a chance.

“Is that what you want?” Even’s nervous and resorts to petting Isak’s hair to calm them both down. There’s no harm done if he’s completely on the wrong track, then he at least won’t have to worry about his baby not liking himself or liking the way he looks. “To be pretty? To be my pretty baby?”

And Isak tenses. His entire body locks and he’s blushing so prettily but Even can tell it’s not a good kind of blushing and suddenly he feels so sad.

“Because you are.” He’s still not sure he’s gotten it entirely correct, but his stomach drops at the thought of Isak not thinking he looks good. He needs to see Isak’s face, his eyes, so he can know what’s going on. His baby’s in pain and he wants to help him so badly, but Isak’s still hiding away in the crease between Even’s thigh and groin, so Even resorts to tugging his hair back a bit gentler than usually.

“My pretty baby, you always look so gorgeous.” Isak resists though, and Even can feel how hard Isak’s squeezing his eyes closed and his heart skips a beat at the thought that Isak might be close to crying.

And suddenly Even can’t wait for Isak to be tugged away, so instead he lets his face slide along his body as Even starts to crouch down in front of him. He folds his arms around him.

“Baby, what’s going on in that old head of yours?”

He might be on the right track after all, and he spends the rest of the evening trying to make Isak laugh and understand that he’s the most gorgeous thing he’s ever laid eyes on without directly telling Isak that.

He takes Isak’s sudden change of topic by asking him to go see his parents as a hint to stop talking about it. He can’t fix Isak’s issues over night, better let Isak mull about it for a few days before bringing it up again.

He thinks something might’ve worked when Isak tells him he’s going to see Eskild. Eskild, who has been blowing up Even’s phone with questions about Isak and why he hasn’t been texting or calling him or has come to see him and what’s going on.

If Isak’s ready to face Eskild, despite feeling terrible about himself, then they’re on the right track.

He seems happier when he comes back him; more resolute and sure of himself, and Even takes it as a good sign that Isak’s starting to feel better. Surely this will mean that he’s closer to being able to bring it up with Even himself, and thus, Even lets himself start to focus a bit more on his schoolwork.

Which means he actually starts to fully attend all of the group meetings and study groups he’s a part of and actually pays attention to what’s going on.

Even’s so sure that the next step Isak takes will be to talk to him about what’s been going on that he’s so completely thrown when he sees Isak standing in the kitchen, only wearing a towel – which in itself is enough in about every single case – but smelling like a damn dream. It’s not exactly a hardship to make Isak feel good about his decision and Even’s pretty much on board with it from the get-go.

If Isak needs a little luxury to like himself, then Even’s pretty much ready to buy out every single body-wash their supermarket carries. After work, of course, because he’s going to be late.

It feels like he’s a step closer to getting his Isak back, and although he would’ve liked for Isak to come to him for help, he’s also really proud that Isak’s strong enough to find his own way back into self-acceptance.

Which is why when Yousef texts him to come hang out, he believes Isak when he tells him it’s okay to go.

It’s so nice to see them all, and it feels like he’s taken the best from his past and added it to the best in his present life. It’s probably because of that it’s such a shock to come home to find the grocery shopping done and Isak asleep in bed, eyes puffy, and hunched in on himself even in sleep.

He feels even worse about leaving next week and spends the entire evening thinking about Isak, worrying what he’ll see when he comes home again. He’d been so sure that Isak was happier and he could kick himself for not noticing. He tries to spend his time texting Isak, but Isak’s not having it and instead leaves Even with his blood thrumming and dick very much interested at the thought of the video he has of Isak gasping and whining so prettily as Even’s fingers touch where he’s stretched beautifully around him, before letting himself live in the moment with his boys.

He didn’t have to worry, after all, because he comes home to the flat smelling of vanilla despite knowing Isak wouldn’t have baked anything, and his boy looking soft and pretty and completely relaxed in their bed.

Wearing… sweatpants.

In fact, he continues to wear sweatpants and t-shirts to bed all throughout the week, and Even’s panicking. Is it getting so much worse that Isak’s started hiding away his body from him?

But then he stops wearing anything but his underwear again, if even that, but his skin is coarse and prickly from growing hair stubs and what exactly is going on?

The cycle repeats itself, but it doesn’t take more than one more week for Even to figure out that Isak’s shaving his body hair, which –

Alright. Even’s completely alright with that. If that’s something Isak likes, to be all bare and smooth, then Even’s definitely on board with that.

He’s so on board with it, in fact, that when he and Isak have sex close after Isak obviously has spent his night shaving, a few days after Even had come home to a Smårolling melting in the bathroom sink and Isak being skittish.

He can’t keep his hands off of him, and Isak still refuses to come anyway other than untouched, which Even also very much doesn’t mind. He really likes the fact that he’s making Isak feel so good that he can come without a hand on him.

And then Isak starts getting worse again. The last couple of Fridays, he’d been so happy when Even came back home, but this Friday Even can tell that he’s only pretending to be asleep and his breathing is uneven and choppy, as if he’s holding back tears. And Even’s sad. He’s so sad and he doesn’t know how to make Isak less sad.

The next week Isak’s even more skittish than usually, but when the week is nearly done, he’s calmed down and everything’s almost the way they were before and Isak seems so happy and Even could cry from relief. Even if it’s just temporary, Isak deserves this moment.

Even starts doodling again. Small things, notes that he leaves around the flat and in Isak’s backpack and in between the pages of his notebooks. Small reminders that he loves him and inside jokes that make him laugh.

He sees how happy him drawing is making Isak, so he starts to do it a bit more, letting Isak flounder about in the kitchen as he tries to create something that’s almost as beautiful as the sight in front of him.

They’re just fooling around when Isak refers to himself as Even’s husband and could marriage be a kink? And Isak only continues and then it’s Isak Bech Næsheim and then it’s hands grabbing everywhere they can, until –

Oh. So that’s what’s been going on.


Or, something to do with this at least.

Isak’s frozen in front of him, eyes wide and panicked. He doesn’t respond when Even asks what’s going on.

All the pieces are starting to come together in Even’s head, but it feels like he’s still missing the overall picture.

He’s so caught up in his mind that he only notices how hard Isak’s panicking when he tries to run out of the apartment.

And Even bolts after him. Not that it’s needed, because Isak’s barely out of his grip before he’s back in it; Even bodily forcing him back up against the fridge. He’s breathing so hard and Even is so sad that his beautiful boy is feeling this way.

“Isak? Isak, shh, come here.”

Isak is clearly struggling between wanting to die right there on the spot and curl up around Even. Usually Even feels like he’d have Isak choose, because sometimes it’s nice to gather your thoughts alone before going to someone for help, but this time something is seriously wrong, so Even decides for him.

Isak doesn’t struggle when Even folds his arms around him, at least, but he’s not gripping onto him either.

“I don’t – it’s not,” Isak’s gasping and Even thinks he’s crying, but he only shushes him in response.

“Is this what’s been going on?”

Isak doesn’t answer, can’t really answer, but his hands are clutching onto the sleeves of Even’s sweatshirt, so Even takes it as a sign that he made the right move by holding on to him, and instead lets Isak ride it out.

It doesn’t take long. He’s still unbelievably tense and uncomfortable, but he isn’t gasping out sobs anymore.

Even’s still shushing him, murmuring small things of comfort.

“You’re alright, baby, everything’s fine. Do you want to go sit on the bed? That would be nice, wouldn’t it? We’re just going to relax for a bit.

He gets Isak to come out of hiding from his place in Even’s neck, but he refuses to meet his eyes. Isak doesn’t dare touch him when they walk to the bedroom, either. Just folds his hands up into his sleeves, clutching them tightly.

They sit next to each other; Even not taking his eyes off of Isak from his place closest to the front door (just in case) whilst Isak resolutely stares in front of him, not taking his eyes off of the TV that’s not on.

They’re quiet for a while and Even doesn’t really know what to say, where to start, because maybe this doesn’t have anything to do with Isak having self-esteem issues, or maybe it does and they’re so deeply rooted in him that it’s let to all of this – whatever this is, and Even knows he could probably guess for an eternity and not get it right anyway because only Isak can tell him what’s going on in that head of his and he’s not talking.

“I’m sorry.”

Isak doesn’t move, even as he says it. His voice is thick, but steady, and Even knows that’s why he hasn’t been talking then. He’s been calming himself down; wanting to seem in control and though he’s clearly quite scared of whatever’s going on.

“For what?” Even’s voice seems too loud in the quiet apartment.

Isak shrugs, still not turning. “For liking something weird.”

Even’s stomach sinks. “It isn’t weird,” Even tries to promise him that it really isn’t, but Isak insists until he’s blinking too much and breathing too heavily, and Even doesn’t stop himself from pulling him onto his lap.

“I don’t think it’s weird.” Isak snorts in response, pressing his face into the nape of Even’s neck. “Help me, then. Talk me through it, I want to help you.”

Isak doesn’t move, only presses in closer. “Too ‘mbarrassing,” he mumbles, barely intelligibly into Even’s skin.

Even rubs one of his hands up and down Isak’s back, the other moving up to tug a bit at Isak’s hair. “Baby, you could shit and piss yourself and I’d still want to help you.”

Isak lets out a startled giggle and Even feels a little bit of tension leave his body. “Both at the same time?” The question is still timid, but his voice doesn’t shake and this time it isn’t from deeply trained control.


They both sit there for a few minutes. Even would really like for Isak to start talking, but maybe, he realizes, Isak doesn’t exactly know where to start. This has been going on for so many months, now, and Isak’s kept it hidden for so long. Even knows a bit about keeping secrets and being forced to say the words out loud when all you want to do is hide it away.

Maybe he should do a bit of prodding. Maybe Isak needs a place to start, so Even decides to tentatively ask, “So… that was lingerie, wasn’t it?”

They’re both impossibly still; Even waiting for Isak to say something and Isak… Even has no idea what’s going through Isak’s mind and he hates that it’s come so far.

When Isak finally reacts he doesn’t verbally answer, just nods timidly, but a second after Even can feel his pulse start to race and he knows he’s starting to panic again.

Even grabs onto his hip, the other hand pressing him on his back to come closer, tethering himself to him.

Isak keeps on squirming around whilst he calms down again, until something makes him stop and he sits back in a rush. His eyes are wild and red as he stares at Even in disbelief.

“You’re still –“

And Even promptly flushes. “I mean,” he begins, stumbling through the words a bit, “seeing you so sad about something you like is definitely the biggest turn off possible, but… the thought of you wearing lingerie… definitely isn’t.”

It makes Isak blush, the pretty red spreading on his cheeks as he shyly looks down in his lap, which in turn only makes him turn redder.

He looks so deep in thought that Even decides that maybe he’s the one that should get them back on track.

“They were lace, weren’t they?”

Isak nods slowly. He still won’t quite meet Even’s eyes.

“What color?”

“Red – or like, cherry or dark cherry I think they were called.” He’s mumbling as he’s answering, but he’s talking and Even makes sure to rub his hand up and down Isak’s side to encourage him.

“That sounds really pretty.”

“Mhm, they are.”

They’re quiet again, and Even struggles to keep on sitting still lest he startles Isak, but this time he’s waiting for Isak to start talking.

“It’s not…” Isak starts, clearly not quite knowing where to go with it. His hands are fidgeting with the strings on Even’s hoodie and it drives Even as mad as always, but at least this means Isak isn’t running for the hills. “It’s not that I want to be a girl or anything like that. I like being a boy and I like my dick and I like being gay and I like being with you.”

That’s… a lot of information all at once, but it makes Even’s heart settle a bit the Isak’s opening up and that he’s getting more information on what’s been going on. Which also means that the only response he manages is, “Okay.”

Which Isak clearly isn’t okay with, head snapping up in shock, eyes finally meeting his.

“Okay? Even, you have to believe me!”

He’s desperate, fingers curling into the fabric on Even’s shoulders and this really isn’t helping Isak at all so Even hurries to backtrack.

“I do! I promise!” Even grabs onto Isak, just in case he decides to move away. “But you have to tell what it is then as well so I understand.”

“I just…” He’s looking back down in his lap again, but this time Even has no idea what to say to get him to continue. Luckily, Isak seems to put it all together by himself, looking up at Even shyly as he continues. “I like soft things,” Isak shrugs, almost a bit apologetically which makes Even’s heart clench in response, “and I like wearing pretty things and feeling pretty in them.”

Even nods, showing he’s with him so far. It explains the hoodie-theft that’s been happening, and it definitely explains the reaction he’d gotten back when he’d first called Isak pretty. God, he’d been so close and yet so far from the issue that had been haunting Isak.

“That’s okay, baby,” Even says. He makes sure that his hand doesn’t accidentally catch on the edge of Isak’s shirt – just in case he isn’t ready to feel any skin-on-skin contact. “That sound really nice,” which makes Isak flush a bit.

He’s looking down again and Even is still trying to wrap it around his head that his boyfriend likes to be soft and pretty and wears lingerie and has been so terribly sad and ashamed about all of it.

He knows his next question is going to make Isak uncomfortable when the topic is still so raw and uncertainty is filling the air between them, but it’s rather important for Even to know. “Is it just a sexual thing or is it more of a general thing?”

Isak’s clearly working on not just running out of the room. Even keeps his hold on him, just in case. “…Both? Maybe?”

He’s still not looking up so Even decides to take a chance. “That’s okay, I can definitely work with both,” Even grins and grabs lightly onto Isak’s butt. It works as Isak huffs out a slightly wet laugh, eyes crinkling at he looks up at Even. He doesn’t look down again as he continues.

“I don’t really know what it is I want, though – or, I don’t know how to describe it.”

Even nods and smiles at him. His lovely boy. “That’s okay. If you want, we can figure it out together.”

Isak’s eyes narrow. He looks at Even like he doesn’t believe him. “Would you really want to?”

“I would.” God, his lovely boy. He doesn’t think there’s anything he wouldn’t agree to do in a heartbeat.

“Okay.” Isak draws it out a bit, clearly still not fully believing him, but also not thinking it’s worth picking a fight over. “So you don’t think this is wrong?”

Even picks up on the vulnerability in Isak’s voice and it makes him squeeze Isak’s side, thumb rubbing along one of his ribs. “No, I promise,” and it’s the first time Isak’s started to relax a bit, so Even’s already hating himself for bringing the next bit up, but he really has to.

“The only thing I think is wrong –“ and he swears he sees Isak’s heart lurch and reel back in front of his very eyes. This lovely boy who all he’s ever known is to doubt himself and hide away, “is the fact you felt so wrong about it you didn’t dare come to me.”

Isak curls in on himself, suddenly ashamed for an entirely different reason. “I’m sorry.”

He’s quiet and Even doesn’t like to see him like this. “Don’t be sorry baby, but I think it’s something we need to talk about at some point.” Isak is blinking too much and Even normally would’ve stopped at this point, but he has to get this point across. “No matter what it is, I don’t want you to be scared of coming to me. Whether it’s a new kink, or a new lifestyle, or if you suddenly decided to hate Mikael or Magnus or anyone else for that matter. Okay?”

Isak’s slow to reply, almost like he’s trying to convince himself of what Even’s telling him. It only means that Even readily believes him when he murmurs a quiet, but firm, okay, even meeting Even’s gaze as he does so.

Even thinks that if it had been any other couple, they probably would’ve been doubtful at the response, especially considering what they’ve been through, but Even knows that the two of them have to put a lot of trust in each other to communicate whenever something’s wrong. So the only thing Even has left to say is, “I love you.”

It makes Isak smile wonderfully big, even as he embarrassedly has to wipe his sleeve across his eye. “I love you too.”

Even tugs him in by his neck and lets his nose bump against Isak’s; Isak in turn mimicking the movement back at Even.

It’s not like everything’s magically okay after that; they both know that, but it offers them a small break where they familiarize themselves with the other.

Which means, as both of their default mode is teasing, that’s exactly what Even does.

 “So women’s lingerie?” Even teases, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Isak grins and blushes so prettily. He still looks a bit shy at the thought of Even actually knowing, but it’s not in a bad way. “Not…” he starts out, smoothing out the creases his hands had made in Even’s clothes, “it’s not just lingerie.”

He sounds a lot more confident when saying it, which in all honesty, makes Even’s heart soar from how proud he is of him. And, yes, he’s had an inkling about makeup possibly still being involved, but it still makes him cock an eyebrow at Isak.

“Oh? What else is there?”

Isak is flushed and red, but his eyes aren’t wet and he isn’t panicking anymore. He still can’t quite seem to get the words out though, so Even figures he can help him out a bit more.

“Is it the body-wash as well? The nice scents?”

Isak nods.

“And…” Even hesitates for a moment, but figures it’s best to get it all out now, “you have been shaving your legs, haven’t you?”

Isak’s eyes widen in shock as he stares at Even, as if he’d been so certain he’d been careful enough that Even wouldn’t have found out. To be fair, had they not been living together and seen each other naked so often, he probably would’ve gotten away with it. Isak doesn’t really say anything in reply, but they both know it’s true.

“What else, baby?” Even asks, jostling Isak a bit around. “You’re leaving me guessing here.”

But Isak still doesn’t dare say anything, only sits there quietly, so Even tries to think about what Isak would believe was ‘worse’ than what they’d already discussed.

“Huh? Are there dresses or skirts?”

Isak wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “No, nothing like that, I don’t think that’s something I want.”

Even only gives him a soft smile. “That’s okay.”

“There’s…” Isak starts, finally looking back at Even. “I’ve got a sweater.”

“A sweater?” Even cocks an eyebrow in interest. Usually he would’ve thrown Isak a teasing smirk as well, but he’s a bit scared Isak wouldn’t take it as the lighthearted teasing it was.

“Mhm.” Isak’s still looking at him, expression open and honest and Even loves this boy.

“What’s it like?”

Isak’s quiet as he tells Even about the dark color, about the cables running up and down, about how soft it feels against his skin. He’s flushed but his voice doesn’t waver and his words are clear. Even thinks he can guess where Isak’s been keeping the lingerie and the sweater.

“Maybe,” Even starts, looking at the mole right beside Isak’s eye, not quite brave enough to actually look him in the eye, “you could show me, one day, when you want to?”

Isak’s slow to answer. Doesn’t actually answer until Even meets his eye to check he’s alright. “Okay.”

It’s soft-spoken, no louder than when he mumbles to himself in order to figure out the answer to his homework, but Even doesn’t need for him to shout it to the world, only needs to know that Isak means it.

To be honest, Even’s feels like he’s standing on unsteady ground, more so than he usually does, because he knew something was going on with Isak, but he didn’t know what and knowing is definitely better than the alternative, but… his heart still feels heavy when he looks at Isak. He doesn’t like that feeling; never has, and he can feel how the sadness caused by Isak’s shame is starting to spread, will surely overcome him at any moment and Even needs for Isak to keep talking.

He can’t help but think about Isak standing in the shower, or maybe laying in the bath, with the scent of lavender surrounding him and smooth skin and curling up in bed wearing the softest sweater he’s ever owned. Seeing Isak… enjoy himself, spoil himself in ways he’s never done before.

“So,” Even says, desperate to know everything that’s been going on, “you like the pampering and wearing nice things and feeling pretty.” Isak blushes, but smiles a bit of a goofy smile. “What is the sexual part, then? Just getting off in them?”

Even would’ve laughed at how quickly the smile is gone when Isak nearly chokes on the air.

“Well,” Isak starts, voice hoarse, “that and…” and promptly stops talking.

“And what?”

He’s started to squirm again. “…Do you remember that night?”

And to be honest – no. Even has no idea which night that night refers to, as there are a lot of nights passing through Even’s mind at several miles per hour, of nights filled with silence and fear, but Even doubts those are the nights that inspired Isak. So instead he chuckles, tries to keep his mind on Isak in this moment. “What night, baby?”

He can see how Isak’s mind reels back because his body literally follows from how taken aback he is. He must’ve been referring to it as that night for so long that the thought of Even not being on the same wavelength has completely thrown him.

So instead, Isak clears his throat again with a fake cough that Even knows he always uses to buy himself some more time. He’s looking at… basically anything and everywhere that isn’t Even. “That night…” he finally starts, “before the summer holiday when at lunch Jonas was talking about his weekend with Elise?”

Elise. Even’s wracking his brain trying to remember why a girl called Elise could be so important to Isak, because Jonas has hooked up with a fair amount of girls, it’s not like –

“Oh…” Even breathes out, thinking he might’ve hit the nail on the head. “Oh. That night.”

That night, yeah,” Isak repeats, a small laugh breathed out as he dares look back at Even who’s nothing short of wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at his boyfriend. “You were… you were saying some things…”

“The dirty talk?” Even asks, because now he’s invested. “Or was it me making you come that many times?”

Isak blushes so prettily. “Both, but… you were saying a few things that made me seem more like…” He’s squirming again and Even tightens his grip on both of his hips to make him still and focus.

“Help me out here baby, which part was it?” Even’s voice is no louder than a whisper, but he knows he has all of Isak’s attention. “Was it just me saying you should come for me? How good you look like that? Or was it –“ could it be? “Oh. Was it?”

Isak is so red and Even thinks it could definitely be that, but he needs Isak to actually say it himself. He knows firsthand how important it is for someone to not take the words out of your own mouth.

“I think you should say it out loud, Isak.”

“When…” Isak’s mumbling, but he’s speaking. “You made a comparison to a girl’s body.”

Bingo. “And you liked that?”

Isak nods, not hesitating before answering, but not giving Even any more to go on.

“So it’s also, like, treating your body as if it were a girl’s?” Even guesses. He’s not judging, but he’s still not quite sure if there’s a reason behind Isak liking that. Maybe Isak doesn’t know either.

“Maybe, I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” Even hurries to say. Sometimes there isn’t really a reason anyway. You might just like something or you might just not. “What about name-calling?” He changes the topic. If they’re going to be having a kink-discussion, might as well leave as few uncertainties as possible.

Name-calling?” Isak’s nose wrinkles in disbelief. “I don’t want to be called a slut or bitch or anything like that.”

“No, no, no, not like that,” Even hurries to reassure him. “I was thinking more of… princess? Baby girl?”

Isak flushes and Even can feel the heat coming off of his body as it grows hot. The squirming starts again as well and Even grins a bit cockily.

“So that’s something as well, huh?” He can’t help but tease. Isak huffs at him and pretends he doesn’t deem it worthy of an answer and instead hides away in Even’s neck. His nose is warm where it presses into Even’s neck and he can feel a residue stickiness on his cheek from the tears.

Even hurries to fold his arms around Isak, pulling him in tight; Isak keeps his own arms folded around Even’s shoulders.

It’s a lot of information all at once, but Even’s just so happy that even though he found out about it in the worst way possible (to be honest, making dinner and drawing silly cartoons seems so far away that it wasn’t even today it had happened), Isak is still willing to talk about it and tell Even himself what’s been going on.

“Do you promise you’re not just going along with this?” Isak’s voice is quiet and laced with uncertainty and Even’s heart twinges at the thought.

“I promise, baby, I really do.” Even thinks he’s rushing his words. “It’s really not a turn off – hell, you’re literally sitting on my dick, you can feel how much it’s not a turn off.”

It at least works in the sense that Isak lets out a small giggle.

“We don’t kinkshame in this household, you know that,” Even says, voice equally quiet, but so serious. They’ve had this talk before, more than once, but maybe he should’ve been reminding Isak of this more often, “- unless, of course, it’s something that could hurt the other, then it’s not allowed. But you’re not exactly hurting anyone right now baby.”

Even can’t help but think back to the last time they’d had this conversation and promptly starts laughing, startling Isak out of his hiding place in his neck.

“Hell,” Even’s voice is breathy from laughter, “do you remember that time when we’d just moved in, and we were lying in bed and you said you were going to clean that day?”

Isak eyebrows are furrowed, but he has a small smirk in place as he slowly nods. “You got so hard at the thought of me doing chores.”

Even scoffs. “No,” he says, imitating the sassy lilt Isak always uses, “I got so hard at the thought that I really was living with my boyfriend and we were going to be doing all these small things like cleaning and grocery shopping and building a life together. You didn’t laugh at me getting off on being domestic.”

Isak laughs. “What are you talking about? I laughed my ass off.”

Even nods and shrugs. “Yeah, you did, but you weren’t making fun of me.”

“I was definitely making fun of you.”

“Stop it,” Even whines, fingers digging into Isak’s side until he’s squirming for an entirely different reason, “you weren’t making fun of me in a mean way.”

Isak’s eyes are soft. “No,” he says, pressing his lips against Even, “I really wasn’t.”

Even uses a hand to smooth Isak’s hair back, watching as it immediately falls back in place. Isak’s biting into his lower lip and if the circumstances had been different Even would’ve thought he was trying to tease him.

“I think I’d like to go change now,” Isak says instead, sitting back, arms falling down to his side.

“Okay,” Even takes the sudden comment in stride. “Into… what?”

He asks the question delicately. It’s still new that he actually knows what Isak’s been going through, and he doesn’t think his boyfriend would be able to handle him just suddenly throwing it out in conversation.

“Just…” Isak starts, “my regular underwear. I don’t really want to wear these now.”

Even nods, tries to smile and seem understanding, but there’s a voice in the back of his head that’s nagging him about it. “That’s okay. But…”

“What?” Isak inquires and stops trying to move away.

Even’s slow to reply for a moment. He doesn’t want Isak to suddenly feel pressured to wear his new underwear around him, but he also doesn’t want to send him the wrong message. “It’s not because it feels wrong to wear it now, is it? Because that I know now?”

He can see how carefully Isak is about thinking about his answer, and although he’s tense about the possible answer he’s still glad that Isak trusts him enough to be able to think inwardly for an honest answer rather than give one he thinks Even will want to hear.

“No,” he finally says. “I think I’d like for you to see someday, if that’s what you want too.”

Even just nods and lets Isak continue.

“I just don’t want to wear them right now.”

Isak’s still quiet, which really isn’t like him at all, but he’s not panicking and he’s not looking close to tears, and he still looks at Even as if he’s his entire world so Even thinks it’s okay.

“That’s okay, baby, you get to decide.”

Even remains on the bed as Isak sneaks off into the bathroom with a pair of boxers. He doesn’t dare move just in case Isak will freak thinking he’s either left or he’d snuck over to catch a look. To be honest, his mind manages to conjure up about fifty different scenarios he thinks Isak would be imagining out in the bathroom; none of them ending with Even waiting for him here, arms spread wide and ready for his return, so that what Even decides he’ll do.

Isak’s eyes aren’t red when he exists the bathroom, so at least he didn’t have a sneaky cry, Even comforts himself.

“I’ll do laundry,” he says as he crawls back onto Even, immediately laying down as if they were going to sleep.

Even huffs out a laugh. “I promise I won’t look,” he says, curling his fingers through Isak’s hair, waiting until Isak meets his eyes. “Only when you want me to.”


“Okay?” Even’s smiling at him and Isak can’t fight the smile off his face; has to hide away in Even’s shoulder.

“Mhm. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

They lay there for a while not speaking.

Now that Even knows he’s trying to remember all the past months; looking for signs of what was going on, how everything Isak had been doing had suddenly made sense.

He thinks he can accurately guess when he’d bought the sweater, he already knows when he’d bought the body-wash, but what about whatever else he had? Had he gone out and bought his own makeup? Was makeup even something he was interested in, or was it just that one-off with Vilde?

Questions and assumptions are racing through his mind along with wondering what the hell Isak is thinking about right now, hoping to God that he isn’t freaking out completely, but rather calmly letting himself believe that he can have everything.

Even’s so stuck in his mind; something he usually hates, that he’s only brought out of it when he hears Isak’s stomach groan.

“Ugh,” Isak grumbles, curling in on himself. “Make me food.”

“Shit,” Even realizes. “Dinner.”

Isak stills for a moment before he starts laughing. “Whoops.”

Even smiles and suddenly he’s laughing as well, and then Isak continues to laugh and it feels so cathartic getting to lie there with his boyfriend without the constant worry in the back of his head.

He tries to kiss him, but they’re both laughing too much and can’t seem to stop, so after that completely fails they go out to inspect the state they left the kitchen in.

Even’s drawings are scattered over the countertop, the knife Isak had been using had fallen to the ground (thank God neither of them had been standing there, yikes), and a few vegetables have rolled off of the cutting board.

They’re nowhere near close to dinner despite how late it’s gotten.

“Clear your things away and then come help me. We’ll fry it all instead of bake it,” Isak says, not looking at Even as he goes back to his station.

Even, however, gives himself a few minutes to just observe his boyfriend. It feels a bit like violating Isak’s trust by imaging how the panties had looked on him. Even had only gotten his hands on the lacy number for a few second and he can’t help but imagine the dark red on his baby, can’t help but think if he has other pairs, are they all lace, what they look like.

He knows he hasn’t masked his staring by the blush that rises in Isak’s cheeks.

“I still don’t understand how you can like this,” Isak mumbles, his back turned to Even, and even though the comment is self-deprecating, Even can’t hear it in the tone of Isak’s voice.

“I just do.” Even’s voice is cheerful as he starts stacking papers together and closes the lid of his coloring pencils.

Isak scoffs. “Still don’t understand,” and Even can hear how close Isak is to sticking his tongue out at him like a five-year-old.

“Well,” Even sighs, “can you understand that I don’t like… football?”

“No,” Isak continues petulantly, trying desperately hard not to grin, failing immediately when Even grabs him from behind.

“You pest,” Even teases.

Isak only kisses him in response.


Studying film has been Even’s dream for so many years now that he can hardly remember when he started to want it so badly.

But just because it’s everything he’s ever wanted, doesn’t mean that it’s not hard work.

He’s exhausted all the time and finds himself growing agitated quicker and quicker the more times he has had to retake that stupid shot because no matter how many times they did it, the light would be wrong, or the chemistry between the characters wasn’t exactly how he had imagined it in his head and Even’s ready to scream at the thought that he has to go home and edit it all together that same night, otherwise he won’t make the assignment in time.

At least it’s only that scene he’s missing and a bit at the end, but he’d still been out for nearly the entire Saturday by now. Isak had texted him about an hour ago that he was getting dinner ready and if Even would be home in time (which he hadn’t), and then his group had all wanted to get sandwiches from Kaffebrenneriet, which, yeah alright, he’s willing to promote his work place if need be, and he also really likes those cheese and ham baguettes, but he’d ended up having to chat with a coworker of his who doesn’t seem to understand his and Isak’s relationship, and by the time he’s walking up all four flights of stairs, he’s beyond the point of exhaustion.

He can smell the remnants from whatever it is Isak made himself for dinner – probably nothing fancy if he knows his boy correctly, as he lets himself into the apartment.

Even sees Isak immediately – the perks of having such a small space. He has his back to Even and his headphones in and Even can only vaguely make out the words to the song Isak’s listening to from the low murmuring Isak’s doing as he folds their laundry and puts it away.

Even smacks the door shut and Isak startles before smiling so widely at Even that his eyes crinkle.

“Halla,” Isak says, not bothering to take out the headphones as Even walks past the bed to kiss him.

“Halla,” Even mumbles against Isak’s lips, making the boy smile.

He gives Isak one more kiss, and then one more again, just in case, before Isak pulls away.

“You need to edit.” He tries to sound scolding, even shoves his finger against Even’s chest, pushing him back a bit.

“Ugh,” Even groans. The cons (more like the only con) of living with your boyfriend; they know your schedule whether you want them to or not. Even wants him to.

He throws himself backwards onto the bed for the extra dramatic effect and moans dramatically about how hard his life is whilst Isak digs out his laptop and camera from his backpack.

Isak presses the computer onto Even’s stomach, resting his arms of either side of him, caging him in as he leans down.

“Get to work,” he smirks, kissing him one last time, and then goes back to folding their clothes.

They don’t say anything as Even moves towards their table to set everything up, but the atmosphere is relaxed and Even can already feel some of the day’s tension seep out of his bones.

It’s been several weeks since Even found out about what Isak had been doing and they hadn’t spoken about it since and Isak hasn’t made a move to wear any of the lingerie except once maybe a week ago when he’d come home from a surprise mock-exam that had been tough as hell and had just needed to wear them for a few hours. He’d been quiet and nervous when he’d told Even not to grab him because he was wearing them and Even had never felt his mouth go dry quicker than he did in that moment, having to smack his tongue around a bit and clear his throat before he could hoarsely tell Isak that he wouldn’t.

It’s December and there’s Christmas and finals and mock-exams and actual exams and they’re both so, so busy, so Even hasn’t wanted to confront Isak about the panties, not wanting him to feel pressured, but he doesn’t exactly know how far he can go before Isak feels uncomfortable so he’s resorted to the opposite and nothing has been said.

They still have sex, but after the reveal Isak had started wanting a hand on himself again, which –

Even wasn’t ever going to deny him something like that, but it had make his stomach lurch in fear that Isak really didn’t want any of the things anymore now that Even knew, and he’d spent weeks terrorizing himself over it, going over and over it in his mind. Obviously it wasn’t true and he hadn’t thought about it since Isak had oh so sweetly informed him he’d be wearing the panties that night a week ago. Even figures the sex is a bit the same; sometimes Isak will want to wear the underwear, sometimes he won’t – sometimes he’ll want to come untouched, sometimes he won’t. At least Even trusts Isak to tell him what he wants and when he wants it, and Isak trusts Even enough to tell him and that’s good enough for the both of them.

That trust is the only thing that manages to make editing that goddamn shot close to bearable for Even, seeing as he spends most of the time sneaking looks at Isak humming and fumbling around in their flat, god, this boy.

Still, editing takes so long to do with Even needing to rewind to watch again every single time he makes a cut, seeing if he wants to change point of view, does he want to do this, does he want to do that. Isak’s by far finished with doing small chores around the house (most of which Even had said he would do, but had then spent so long putting off that Isak just did it himself) and has laid down on the bed with his own laptop, clearly not doing anything productive by the sight of him.

Even cuts it all together, adds sound, music, filters, whatever he wants; and yes, he’s grown quite tired of the project by now, but he’s so proud of the result he’s ended up with that he ends up throwing his hands up in the air, moaning out a tired but pleased ‘yes’ when he’s finally sent it to his professor.

Isak only gives him a small grin as he slumps back in his chair, rubbing his fingers over his own face, trying to alleviate some of the stress he’s felt the entire month nearly. Even can hear Isak crawling off of the bed as he goes over to him, pressing himself in-between Even’s chair and the wall filled with drawings.

Isak’s hands are slightly cold as he presses them onto Even’s shoulders and neck, slightly digging in, making him groan in response. He leans his head back to rest against Isak’s stomach, opening his eyes lazily.

Isak looks thoughtful, and Even – for only a second – worries that Isak’s been hiding more things, but then quickly dispels that thought. It’s not fair for him to think that Isak will always do that from now on so he forces himself to stop before it sets.

Instead, Isak tugs lightly on his t-shirt and Even gets up to follow him, already making a move towards the bed, but Isak only wordlessly shakes his head before leading him towards the bathroom.

Is this a very nice way of telling Even he smells? It’s been a long day – he wouldn’t be surprised. Or does Isak just want shower sex? Or the intimacy of showering together even though their shower is so small that they’re kind of smooshed together the entire time?

Isak leaves him in the doorway and doesn’t look back as he walks over to the bathtub and starts to run a bath. The water splashing against the sides makes a ruckus in the otherwise silent bathroom.

Then he opens the cupboard and awkwardly pulls out a few objects he’s obviously stored behind all of their other crap that they never really look at. There’s a candle – vanilla, Even can barely make out, but that certainly explains where the scent of cookies has come from when he’s gone out on Fridays – and Isak picks up the lighter lying on the counter and lights the candle.

It’s both sweet and fresh and the scent fills the room quicker than the candles Sonja had had.

Next, Isak takes the large bottle and pours in a thick glop in the bathtub and Even watches as the bubbles start to appear and something sweet-smelling fills the air, something flowery.

“Jasmine,” Isak says quietly. There’s a light dust of a blush resting on his cheeks, and Even is slowly beginning to understand what is going on right now.



He doesn’t even have time to think about saying anything, because Isak yanks off his sweatshirt and then pulls his t-shirt over his head and next are the pants and Even’s mouth is so dry and he’s pretty sure his brain has completely stopped working.

Even knows this isn’t necessarily about something sexual for Isak – it hasn’t been for Even either. He likes the thought of his boy feeling good and feeling good about himself; they don’t need sex in order for that to happen.

That doesn’t mean that he isn’t embarrassedly quickly chubbing up in his pants as Isak pulls his own down before walking over to him, slowly, and starts to tug on his hoodie.

“Take it off,” Isak mumbles. He’s quiet but he meets Even’s eyes – that he’s sure are currently the size of saucers – without blinking. “This isn’t how we do laundry, you know.”

It’s a joke; a bad one, but a joke nonetheless, but Even can’t even swallow right now, let alone laugh. God, this all feels like so much more than what it actually is.

“Or maybe you don’t,” Isak smirks as he turns around, walks back towards the bathtub, “seeing as you never actually do any.”

That startles a laugh out of Even and means he manages to look away from Isak’s ass for a moment long enough to take off his socks and throw it after him.

Isak only grins as he turns to check the temperature of the water and leaves Even to discard the rest of his clothing.

Then he walks over to where he placed the rest of the products and grabs a bottle of shaving cream and a razor – God, Even isn’t sure he’s going to survive this night.

He notes that the cream is rather generic and makes a note in the back of his mind to talk to Isak about changing that. Anything to spoil his boy, just a little.

Isak places them on the edge of the tub and then shuts off the water. The silence leaves their ears ringing.

“You get in first.” Isak’s mumbling again, and Even doesn’t comment on any of it as he gets into the bath.

It’s so lovely and warm and he can’t believe how quickly his body’s relaxing, surrounded by soft scents and warm water lapping at his skin, but then Isak maneuvers himself in as well, settling with his back pressed against Even’s chest, head resting backwards on his left shoulder. His legs are resting along the outsides of Even’s, making them spread out slightly. Even can’t see anything for the bubbles, but he’s more than perfectly aware that surely Isak can feel something himself.

They just sit there, not saying anything, letting the water and heat and smells surround them. Even can’t help setting the scene like he would for a movie, though, and a scene like this – so important for the two main characters, wouldn’t be silent.

“We should make you a playlist,” Even murmurs, lips pressing against the shell of Isak’s ear, making him shudder in response. “Filled with songs you love. Something nice and quiet and smooth, that’ll feel as good as you do, baby.”

He lets his fingers and hands smooth their way up Isak’s sides and chest, bubbles and water following their wake as Isak’s breathing speeds up.

“Yes, please,” Isak’s response is breathy and shuddery and Even can’t keep himself from grinning a bit as he leans up to grab the body-wash, pouring a dollop into his hand, smoothing out the product between both of his hands before returning to his previous movements.

He can already smell how Isak’s skin is lathering up the lavender-scent along with the jasmine from the bubbles. Even’s silently cursing every Friday he came home a little too high or a little too drunk to be paying attention to his boyfriend.

“Because you’re going to be so smooth, aren’t you, baby? Going to be all smooth and soft after we get you shaved.”

Isak groans and arches his back, almost completely involuntarily; head thrown back, curls tickling Even’s bare skin; his neck smooth and on display and Even can barely keep himself from leaving a mark – just one, when he notices that Isak’s eyes are wet.

And suddenly Even’s frantic. “Baby, are you okay? Should we stop? Do you want me to leave?” Had this been a bad idea? He’d been so goddamn happy that Isak had felt comfortable to include Even in this part of his life, so happy that his baby was getting confident enough to do it, but if it felt wrong, or Isak had suddenly changed his mind, Even was more than willing to simply suck it up and let his boyfriend keep this to himself if that’s what he wanted.

“No, no, no no no,” Isak’s voice is hoarse as he says it which really doesn’t serve to make Even calm down quicker. “No, I just – ugh.”

Even doesn’t dare move until Isak gets all of the words out, so afraid to do something wrong, something that makes Isak uncomfortable. Oh god, what if he already has? He should –

“I just…” Isak pauses again, not moving his body as he closes his eyes, “I really wanted this – you,” he clears up, “back when I first tried it out. It all feels a bit too good to be true.”

Isak shrugs and tries to downplay it, but Even’s heart hurts at the thought of all Isak had been going through, and throughout it all he’d just wanted Even to be along with him for the ride.

“Never letting you do this alone again,” Even mumbles, and then backtracks so hard. “Unless, of course, that you want to do it alone. This isn’t something you have to do with me, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to feel pressured to include me. Think of yourself, make yourself feel good.”

Isak huffs and tries not to laugh at Even’s word-vomit as he shakes his head.

“Don’t want to make myself feel good. Want you to do it.”

He sounds as sassy and petulant as he usually does and Even’s so fond of this boy that he doesn’t stop himself from pressing openmouthed kisses up and down Isak’s neck this time.

“You’re going to have to shave yourself, though,” Even snickers, “as I’m terrified I’m going to accidentally cut you.”

Isak only smiles and tries to squirm closer. “Don’t worry about it. I’m the master of shaving, after all.”

“Oh, the master,” Even teases, digging a finger into Isak’s side a bit more firmly, making Isak giggle. “I’m pretty sure the master nicked himself the first couple of times as well.”

“Nope,” Isak says, popping the last syllable, “never happened.”

“’Never happened’” Even mocks, handing over the shaving cream.

Isak lifts one leg out of the bathwater, resting it on the side of the tub, before starting his routine.

Even can’t take his eyes off of what Isak’s hands are doing, completely enraptured with the way he lathers on the soap, how the razor does a smooth, practiced glide across his skin, leaving it glistening and hairless.

He has to swallow when Isak moves upwards to do his inner thigh.

He’s careful around the knee and the ankle, and Even knows enough to know those are some of the hardest places to shave, so it only leaves him impressed when Isak manages to not cut himself a single time whilst also making sure he’s gotten all of the hair.

Isak stretches out when he shaves under his arms, Even moving to accommodate him, and then it’s his groin and Even doesn’t think he breathes for the entirety of the time from Isak letting out some of the water to letting the razor glide over his skin.

Isak gets out first and moves to the sink without waiting for Even. He scrubs his face with a product that comes out of a dark red bottle, smelling fruity, before grabbing a towel and starts to dry himself off.

Even gets up and grabs one for himself, wrapping it around his waist, tying it securely.

He sees Isak hesitate to grab the last bottle.

Even comes up behind him, presses a small kiss to his shoulder, before murmuring, “What?”

Isak takes a few deep breaths, not looking up to meet Even’s eyes through the mirror. “Would you like to…” He cuts himself off, but holds the bottle up to Even’s hand and Even finally sees what it is.

They move out of the bathroom to situate themselves on the bed. The cold air makes them both shutter and the smell of vanilla isn’t as strong out here as it was in the bathroom.

Still, Isak looks nothing but comfortable as he sits down on the bed, back against the pillows they’ve stacked up against the wall, and Even sits down by his feet.

“Where do you want it?”

Isak’s swallows audibly. “Just – wherever I’ve shaved. And like, arms, and stuff.”

Even waggles his eyebrows suggestively at ‘and stuff’ and Isak, predictably, blushes and shakes his head at him, calling him an idiot.

Isak kicks out at him a bit in retaliation, but Even only grabs him around the ankle and holds on, holding Isak’s leg stretched out.

Even squirts a dollop of the cream out in his hand and starts at the heel of Isak’s foot, smoothing it out until it turns translucent and is absorbed into Isak’s skin, leaving it shiny and soft and slightly sticky.

He moves over his ankle, up his calf, over his knee and then stops to repeat the process on Isak’s other leg.

They’re not speaking, but Isak’s mouth opens a bit; short, quiet pants coming out softly, his eyes not moving away from Even and his hands and his face. Even can’t see himself, but he knows his eyes are dark; he intimately knows what Isak looks like whenever that happens.

He grinds the lotion into Isak’s inner thighs, both at the same time, and Isak groans at the feeling. He’s mostly hard, lying against his stomach, but Even doesn’t make a move towards his dick; instead bypassing it, curling his hands around his hips and then moving over his stomach; mapping out the hard lines of muscles, up, up, up, mindlessly sweeping his thumbs over Isak’s nipples before sitting back to get more lotion.

This time, he starts with Isak’s hand, letting his own run in-between fingers and up the palm and back of his hand, before letting one of his own remain to hold Isak’s, the other moving up to his elbow, over it, up his arms, curling around his bicep before winding around his shoulder, and then do it all again on the other side.

“What now?” Even’s voice seems louder in the quiet of the apartment, bending forward to press a few light kisses along Isak’s collarbone.

He has to draw back, though, in order to get Isak to respond, seeing as his eyes are glazed over, not looking at anything but Even.

Even can smell the lavender and the fruits and jasmine on Isak’s skin. God.

“Uhm,” Isak draws it out as he tries to shake himself back into reality.

He pushes Even back a bit in order to get up. Even falls back onto his knees and then turns around to sit properly as he watches Isak walk over to their dresser, bends down to get to the bottom drawer.

And then Even’s heart is lodged in his throat, because Isak pulls out four pairs of slightly wrinkled panties, and then a blue sweater and then he goes back to lay it all out on the bed.

He’s not looking at Even, but Even can see how much he’s trying to treat this like one of his normal evenings alone, so he doesn’t dare say anything.

He’s not sure he can say anything; mouth dry and mind spinning out of control at what he’s seeing. So many colors and lace and they’re all so delicate and Even immediately remembers the dark red pair he’d already felt on Isak.

Isak ends up with the white pair, turning his back on Even as he slides them on, the fabric running alongside his legs before settling on his bum. Even can see the hard outline of his dick in them before Isak pulls on the sweater, making it appear more subtle.

Isak only dares look at Even when he’s standing right in front of him, holding out his hand to drag him somewhere else.

Even can’t even imagine what could be left, but he hurries to grab a pair of boxer briefs, discarding the towel to pull them on instead.

He knows Isak’s seen how hard he is when he turns back to follow his boyfriend from the pretty blush settling high on his cheeks and from how secretly pleased he is.

Even knows he shouldn’t be silently guessing what’s about to happen; he most definitely won’t get it right anyway, but he can’t help but think about Isak’s fluffy hair, and smooth skin, and what could it be?

He knows Isak hears his sharp inhale when he pulls out a drawer above their bathroom cupboard where he’d stored the bubble bath and scented candle.


He stands a respectable distance from Isak – not wanting him to feel like he’s hovering, but he’s following every single movement of his in the mirror.

It’s obvious Isak’s done this before; he’s quick and sure in his movements and placements of the makeup, blending it all in, leaving his face smooth-looking.

Even at least knows what the products are and how they work, but seeing them on Isak is like seeing them for the first time.

Isak is meticulous in his application; making extra sure not to poke himself in the eye when applying the mascara, and carefully applies the lip-gloss, making sure not to paint any outside of his lips.

“God,” Even groans as Isak twists the product closed, looking up at Even under his eyelashes through the mirror. “Look at you.”

He can’t help himself from stepping closer, but he makes sure to pay rapt attention to Isak’s body language, just to make sure that the approach is welcome, after all.

“The prettiest baby in the entire world,” Even says, folding his arms around Isak’s sides, curling over his stomach and chest. It’s the first time he feels the fabric of the sweater; all the edges and twists and the softness, and he makes sure it comes in contact with Isak’s skin, rubbing it slightly so his baby can feel the softness move up and down.

He presses a kiss to Isak’s clothed shoulder.

He isn’t sure how his voice isn’t shaking – he can hardly breathe as it is, looking at Isak leaning back into his body, arms rising to curl around Even’s neck to bring his head down to his.

They kiss languidly, with all of the time in the world. Even can feel the slight stickiness of Isak’s lip-gloss and it makes both of them shiver at the feeling.

My pretty baby,” Even mumbles against Isak’s lips before going back to kissing him. “Look so good.”

Even’s so hard and he can see in the mirror that Isak is too; the fabric of the panties not really meant to accommodate him, but he doesn’t make a move towards either of them.

Neither of them do, really, and it’s not a problem. This isn’t necessarily about getting off; he knows Isak does this just because he enjoys it. To be honest, Even really isn’t objecting to any of it.


Working at Kaffebrenneriet is hot and sweaty; running around between coffee machines and trying to accommodate everyone and make costumers happy in record time is hard work, and Even lets the feeling of fresh, most-definitely-too-cold air chill him down to the bone happily as he exits the coffee shop and makes to go home.

The coffee shop is quite central and Even enjoys the walks home – especially this time of year when the Christmas shopping is starting with the shops decorating and fairy lights placed on the streets.

Later, when they’re looking over their budget together Even will blame the atmosphere, but he really knows that when he walks past an H&M and sees a dark grey sweater in the window that he simply wants to treat his baby.

The shop is warm and the girl at the counter is all smiles as she tells him to shout if he needs help.

“Yes, actually, that sweater in the window – the dark grey one, yes – where do you keep it?”

She walks quickly through the shop until they reach a rack where the sweater hangs in six different colors. Even tries to play off the shiver the wracks through his body when he realizes they’re in the women’s section. It’s not exactly groundbreaking news that Isak would wear something targeted for women, but he still can’t help but wonder if the blue sweater – still stuffed into their bottom drawer – was also bought in the women’s section. Did Isak know it was? Was it an accident? Was it deliberate?

Even tries not to think about it as he thanks the girl and then looks through the selection.

The dark grey sweater is still, by far, his favorite, not really wanting to see Isak in the bright orange one. To be honest, though, he probably didn’t want to see the bright orange one ever again.

The wool makes it slightly warmer than the one Isak has at home, but it’s incredibly soft and decorated with small cables running up and down the front, back, and arms.

He’s getting it.

The hanger clangs against the metal bar when he pulls the sweater down in his hurry to buy it and get home. Isak will be texting him soon, asking if he’s on the tram yet and Even is still a ten minute walk away from the nearest station.

It’s by complete accident that he even notices it, really.

He hears a couple of girls shriek excitedly and the noise reflexively makes him look in their direction. Then he sees it and –

Oh. He might be a bit late.


“You’re late.”

Even can hear how hard Isak attempts to appear snarky, but he can hear the teasing in his voice and it makes him grin as he hides the shopping bags behind his back.

Isak’s standing in their bedroom, his back to Even as he stands next to their laundry basket, folding the clean clothes and putting them away.

“So sorry,” Even drawls, coming up behind Isak, hooking his chin around Isak’s shoulder, “I was too busy running naked through the street to look at the time.”

He doesn’t need to be looking at Isak to see him rolling his eyes when he swears he can perfectly hear it happening.

“Is that why so much of the laundry was your clothes, seeing as you apparently having been wearing any?”

Even knows Isak’s fighting the smile threatening to break through.

He presses a kiss to his cheek. “Would a present help?”

“I’m yelling at you for being late, do you really think I’d like for you to leave again?” Isak shakes his head as he tucks the sleeves of the hoodie in, but stops all movement when he feels Even freeze behind him.

“Um, about that…” Even makes sure to rustle the bags; the plastic squeaking from the friction and movement.

He can feel the heat forming in Isak’s cheeks from where his head is pressed against him.

“What kind of present?”

Even hums, knowing Isak is intrigued and has probably forgotten whatever chore he was going to make Even do in retaliation for him being nearly an hour late.

“A special present for my baby girl.”

They… talked about nicknames, all the way back when Even first found out about… all of this, but they’d never actually gotten far enough that it would be appropriate for Even to use any.

Isak’s body is tense with nerves and is quickly heating up, blood thrumming through his veins. Even has always selfishly reveled in this moment where all of Isak’s attention is solely on him.

Even taps two fingers against Isak’s hip, signaling for him to turn around. He knows that if Isak can’t even bring himself to do that then they’ve gone too far and Even’s heart is picking up its pace in panic at that thought, but Isak slowly turns around, staying only a few inches away from Even.

Isak’s gone so shy and quiet and refuses to look up at Even except from underneath his lashes. Even can only tell that the blush sitting high on his cheeks isn’t the bad kind from Isak’s body; how it’s turned against him and Isak is fidgeting as if he doesn’t quite believe that this isn’t a mean prank, but also wanting it to be true so badly.

Even reaches out to his right to put the bags down on the bed before turning his attention back on Isak. His eyes follow the movement of the bags to – finally – look up at Even; gaze shy and inquisitive and absolutely exquisite and Even can’t help but bend down and press a peck against Isak’s lips.

“Let me get my coat off, and then we’ll go through it together, if you’d like?”

Throughout the most of the time they’ve been together – probably even back when they were still awkwardly dancing around each other – Even’s been in charge, but with this, Even makes sure that Isak knows he makes the calls.

Even sits down on the bed, back against the pillows and the wall, situating himself whilst Isak crawls over to his side, folding himself in half in order to fit underneath Even’s right arm, legs drawn up and resting against Even’s side and legs, knees pressing into his stomach.

“Here,” Even says, pulling the bag with clattering items closer, “stick your hand in and pull something out.”

Isak snorts at the wording, cheeks still colored a bright red as he does what Even says.

Isak’s careful not to peek inside as he lifts the side of the bag to fit his hand in. Even can’t take his eyes off of Isak’s face, eager for his reaction.

He’s clearly trying to work out whatever he’s grabbed before he sees it; eyebrows furrowed and nose wrinkled before giving up and pulling it out.


Isak’s grip around the bottle of nail polish is loose and careful, the same way he’d held his sweater and panties. His expression is open and vulnerable and he looks seconds away from tucking his head underneath Even’s chin.

The bottle itself is clear, showing off the dark red color that he can immediately recognize as the same red color of the underwear, the lid a matte silver-metal that feels smooth when Isak runs his fingers over it.

“I don’t even know if that’s something you’d like, but I just thought ‘Hey, why not?’” Even knows he’s rambling a bit, too nervous about what Isak’s thinking about all of this, so to distract himself Even rummages through the bag instead. “I got you one in another color as well – just because, really,” he says and pulls a bottle of mint green polish out.

Isak grins. “You just got it ‘cause green is your favorite color,” and Even laughs as he presses a series of kisses to Isak’s hair, cheek, chin, wherever he can reach without jostling his boy around.

“You don’t have to like them,” Even reminds him as he watches Isak.

Isak, who’s sitting there, a nail polish bottle in each hand, the bottles pressed against each other as he looks at them. He swallows audibly.

“No – I, um, I think it’s good, they’re good. Thank you.”

He adds the last bit like it’s a belated thought, but Even doesn’t call him out on it. His cheeks are too red and voice too quiet and although it seems like they’re starting out well, Even doesn’t want to push it.

“Next item,” Even reminds Isak, nudging him a bit to get him out of whatever headspace he seems to be stuck in.

Out with Isak’s hand comes a long, slender tube – lip-gloss – the same red color as the nail polish.

“I don’t know if you’d even like something that dark on your lips,” Even starts, “but this way you can match.”

Isak breathes out a laugh and doesn’t take his eyes off of the gloss. “Does that mean you got me blush as well? So I can be red everywhere?” Isak teases, finally looking up at Even, gaze still a bit shy.

Even laughs. “Oh, baby, you won’t need any rouge in order to blush,” he says, voice dark, and true enough, the red settles over on Isak’s cheeks as his eyes grow a bit darker.

“Uh,” Isak stutters, mouth hanging open as he tries to regain control. He shakes his head as if mentally shaking an image out of his mind. “Moving on then,” already moving his hand towards the bag.

He stops though, before pulling something new out, looking back up at Even. “I really like it.” Even only grins and rubs Isak’s back in order for him to continue.

The next is also a gloss – a nude color this time – just in case the red had been a flop.

Next is an eyeliner pencil and Isak face scrounges together as he’d never seen a brown pencil being used in any of the – many – tutorials he’d watched.

“Do you remember Sunni? From my film class?” Even starts. “The girl everyone’s always begging to do their makeup whenever we film a scene?”

Isak’s slow to nod.

“Well, she does her eye-makeup-stuff,” Even gestures in the near vicinity of his own eyes to make it clearer to Isak, who only snorts at Even’s explanation, “with a brown pencil, and it looks a lot more subtle than the girls who do it with black.”

“You’ve been looking at other girls’ makeup?” Isak teases, rolling the pencil between two fingers.

Even rolls his eyes and mumbles a, “Shut up,” fingers digging into Isak’s side, dislodging them momentarily from their position before Isak curls back up into him.

“I just thought that it doesn’t seem like you like a bold ‘look’,” Even says, making quotation marks with his fingers, “so that would be better.”

The next bag is the smallest and only holds one item, but it’s by far the heaviest item out of all of them.

Isak pulls out a large jar of a candle, his hand not big enough to reach more than halfway around it, as he takes a big whiff.

Apples. Definitely apples – sweet and fresh and bringing along every memory of taking that first bite of an apple in season.

“I thought you were running a bit low on the vanilla one. We can go looking for more – or another, if this one isn’t sweet enough.”

Isak has to lean back into Even and bend his head a bit unnaturally, but it’s worth it for the small kissing-session they end up having; lips moving softly against each other before Isak pulls but to look at the candle again.

“I like it,” he says, gently puffing his shoulder against Even’s ribs. “Eskild always says candles are a bit of a hit-or-miss because you never want to light something up for sexy times only to have your date be reminded of their grandma’s cooking.”

Even snorts at the imagery and wonders whatever situation Isak had landed himself in for Eskild to relay such a story.

“Last one,” Even murmurs, holding the last bag out for Isak, who’s carefully putting the candle down on the empty space on the bed beside them.

It’s the biggest, but softest, bag, and Isak’s quick to figure out why when he feels the soft material of knitted clothing.

His eyes are big and round as he pulls out the sweater, laying it out across his knees so he can take in every single detail all at once.

He runs his hands up and down the cables; Even’s eyes following Isak’s fingertips with rapt attention as they move delicately across the details.

“I figured the grey fits with every color of panties you own now,” Even murmurs, and Isak’s cheeks immediately turn red as he body grows hot. Even tightens his grip on him to stop the squirming and make him sit still.

It’s almost like Isak deflates like a balloon as he sinks into the hold Even has on him.

Isak gulps and goes to say something, but no noise comes out so he just nods his agreement with Even’s thoughts instead.

They remain there for a bit; Isak quietly tugged away underneath Even’s chin, face partly hidden but still looking at the sweater, although he doesn’t dare run his fingers along it anymore, the tips of his fingers hovering above it instead.

And Even wants to give Isak this time to think all of these things through, but he’s slowly dying inside from anticipation of what Isak has to say.

Out of all the things he expected though, “Would you help me with the polish?” isn’t one of them.

Even readily agrees, having to hold back the ‘baby girl’ that almost naturally slips out of his mouth. Isak seemed pleased, although surprised, when he used it before, but he wanted to wait until he’d gotten Isak to talk about what he thought about it.

“Do you want to try it now?”

“Yes, please.”

They clear up their small table of Isak’s Macbook and various notes and books and other crap – keeping their surface area clear, Even jokes, like a proper snooty artist as Isak huffs.

Even places the new candle on the table beside them and hurries to find something to light it with before settling down in front of Isak.

Isak had grabbed the red, nervously twirling it around in his fingers before Even makes him put it down so he can unscrew the lid.

He’s slow and careful and precise with every stroke of the brush, wanting the result to be smooth and perfect for Isak, whose full attention is on him and his hands and the brush.

“Sit still,” Even has to remind him several times, adding on a “be good for me,” the sixth time, which makes Isak clamp up and bite his lip in response.

“We could just get high off of this shit,” Isak murmurs, and Even has to put the brush back in the bottle in order not to spill as he laughs.

“Nothing like breathing in dangerous chemicals,” and the familiarity of this is probably what makes Isak able to actually look at Even fully unguarded.

He’s slow and careful and it looks good when he’s finished the second coat – no lumps or uneven edges.

“Do you like it?” Even asks as Isak, once again, can’t help but let his fingers run across the now hardened surface, as if this time it’ll come off.

“Yeah,” Isak’s voice is quiet, “a lot, actually. It’s…” he clearly doesn’t know what exactly it is he’s trying to say, but Even thinks he’s feeling the same way so he doesn’t push Isak to continue.

Instead he gets up and walks behind Isak, folding himself around him, arms around his stomach, both of them staring at the red of Isak’s nails.

“What do you want to do now?”

They keep their voices hushed in the quiet of the apartment – all of this still feeling too private, even though they technically are in the privacy of their own home.

Even’s nose is pressed into Isak’s hair, just slightly nudging his ear. It’s something that Isak would usually complain about, saying it tickles too much to be enjoyable, but this time he keeps quiet and doesn’t take his eyes off of his nails.

‘Next’ ends up with Isak grabbing the pencil and going into the bathroom to try it on.

It ends up being Even who draws the wing onto Isak’s eyelid, carefully and with Isak’s instructions which, despite Isak never having tried it before, work. Isak’s hands were shaking too much – still are, in fact, fingertips still softly gliding over his nails, like he still can’t quite believe it.

Isak applies his mascara himself, coloring his lashes dark and making them seem so much longer than they usually are.

“It does look nice,” Isak says softly, pleasantly surprised as he looks at Even through the mirror; cheeks coloring darkly when he notices Even’s eyes and feels the hard press of his dick against his lower back.

Neither of them makes a move to do anything about it.

“It does,” Even agrees and presses a kiss against Isak’s clothed shoulder.  “I will never argue with her ideas ever again.”

Isak snorts. “Yes, you will,” and Even huffs in response but doesn’t disagree, because, yeah, he will.

They walk back into the bedroom, the smell of apples even stronger now. Even never knows quite what to expect on nights like this, but he certainly didn’t expect for Isak to pull his t-shirt off, careful not to let any of the fabric touch his face, before shucking off his jeans and-

Even chokes on the air he breathes when he sees Isak’s already wearing the cherry panties and fuck.

Even’s dick twitches harshly in his pants when Isak turns around to pick up the new sweater Even had given to him. God.

Everything feels like something out of a movie, as if Isak’s put slow motion on everything; the way he lifts his arms up to slide the sweater on, the way the knitted fabric falls down over his back, slowly gliding down until it’s slightly covering the top of the panties.

“They do match,” Isak says, and Even has to think for a moment before he remembers about the nail polish – god and fuck seem to be the only thoughts Even’s capable of having right now.

Isak is slow as he walks over to him, eyes big and accentuated by the makeup and Even can’t breathe.

“Have you memorized all of the colors, or something?” Isak tries to tease, but his own eyes are dark as well, and the tip of his tongue pokes out of his mouth as he wets his lips nervously.

Even has to swallow. “Vividly.”

Isak’s breath catches and Even can’t help but kiss him as he hand sneaks up underneath Isak’s sweater, curling around his hip, fingertips following the pattern of the lace and Isak’s breath hitches in response.

“Look so pretty, darling,” Even murmurs against Isak’s lips, and Isak flushes so prettily in response.

Even can feel how hard he is, pressed against him, possibly close to leaking already, but Isak makes no move towards himself or Even, so Even doesn’t either. All in due time.


It’s really such a simple thing that Even doesn’t understand how he hasn’t thought of this earlier.

He’s been sitting through his classes, for once not actually paying any attention, racking his brain all day trying to come up with something that would show Isak how supportive he happy he really is about the lingerie and the… whatever-it-is-that-Isak-still-can’t-quite-describe, because Isak still goes shy in a way that Even isn’t entirely certain is good and that’s got to stop, really.

And, being him, he’s all for big, grand, gestures, but this is something so private and so deeply hidden in Isak’s heart that that would probably – definitely – be the worst direction to go.

But this. This is perfect and Even ends up calling in sick to work, switching his shift for one this Saturday instead, and then hurries home.

It’s Wednesday and it’s the only school day of his that’s shorter than Isak’s by about an hour and a half, so he has to hurry up if he wants everything to be ready.

He flies up all four flights of stairs, yelling out a belated greeting to Mrs. Hagebak; the old woman who lives two flights below them and always sneers in everyone’s direction, already unlocking his front door by the time she’s ready to reply with something rude.

Even throws his school back and coat down on the bed, trying to make a mental note to clear both away that he knows he’ll forget all about before Isak gets back, before heading over to their drawer.

He clears a large area of the dirty laundry scattered around the floor before opening the bottom drawer.

Isak’s already shown him everything he owns, but it still feels a bit like trespassing to look at it without Isak there.

He pulls out every pair of panties and the two sweaters – slightly wrinkled because of how little space there is – and lays them all carefully across the bed to ensure nothing happens to them. Then, he pulls out everything else, folding them into piles depending on the softness of the material and which ones Even knows to be Isak’s favorites – decisively not commenting, but sniggering pleased, on the fact that they all used to be his clothing.

Then he continues to do the same with the drawers above, until he’s distributed all of their regular clothes in the rest of the drawers and is left with a nice selection of various pullovers, hoodies, t-shirts, and Isak’s self-purchased items, all of which he folds nicely before fitting them all into section in the drawer, making sure that the lingerie and sweaters are at the bottom.

They have nosy friends and whilst Even doesn’t exactly think they’d go snooping through their clothes, he knows it would be all Isak could think about whenever they’d get visitors, so he might as well save his boy the anxiety and do it from the beginning.

When Isak comes home and Even shows him what he’s done – after having been chewed out for leaving his bag and coat on the bed because he obviously forgot to clear it away, curse his lack of ability to remember a mental note – Isak sits on his knees for a long time, simply running his hands over the various clothes, eyes shining bright and Even worries that some it might be from teary eyes.

Isak graciously thanks him by allowing Even to cook dinner that night.


Isak’s been… squirming all day long, now, ever since Even got home from the shift at Kaffebrenneriet he’d had to pick up, and Even can’t for the life of him figure out why.

Even recognizes the sweater Isak is wearing as one from the bottom drawer, but that in itself doesn’t really say anything about what it is Isak wants – or doesn’t want.

Does he want to flit around, drive Even insane? Does he want for Even to make him be still? Would that just make it worse?

He’s avoiding every single question Even throws at him – even just the regular, everyday ones about dinner and schedules and Even’s about two seconds from ripping his hair out.

He knows he can’t second-guess it every time something like this happens so he trusts Isak to tell him if he suddenly doesn’t want Even to be a part of this instead of letting his anxiety run loose about it.

Meaning, Even’s hyperaware of every single move Isak makes, leg bouncing up and down as he sits on the bed, knees folded over the edge, with his textbooks strewn out beside him, waiting for Isak to get out of the bathroom.

His head snaps up when Isak exists and –

He feels light-headed with how quickly his dick springs to life at the sight of Isak standing there, fidgeting a bit with the sleeves of Even’s pullover he’s pressed down over his hands; the black lingerie a stark contrast to the baby pink of the sweater. But most of all…

Isak’s lips are so red from the dark-colored lip-gloss, and Even can’t help but think of Isak standing in the bathroom, letting the wand run over his lips, coloring them so invitingly, having to shift out of his jeans to reveal the lingerie and –

Even realizes that this probably means Isak’s been planning whatever this is and Even can feel his stomach clench in unknown anticipation because this feels different from anything they’ve done so far, but how and why Even can’t quite figure out.

He doesn’t figure it out before Isak’s standing in front of him – eyes dark and lashes painted and Even thinks he can see the eyeliner as well. He’s meeting Even’s gaze full on as he slowly pulls the textbook out of Even’s lax hands, throwing it carelessly onto the duvet in the pile of books Even’s slowly accumulated over the year.

Even doesn’t get it until Isak starts to sink down onto his knees, body pressed in-between Even’s legs, hand moving up to begin palming at Even’s dick, quickly twitching and stretching out the fabric of his jeans uncomfortably.

“This, uh – “ Even starts, trying to get his mind working again, “you don’t have to do this, you know.”

Isak raises an eyebrow teasingly at Even. “This isn’t exactly my first time, you know.”

Even groans – both at Isak being purposely difficult about not understanding what Even’s trying to say, but also at the thought that he was Isak’s first everything, really, and also from the thought of Isak going down on him in the shower that morning after in the kollektiv.

Isak makes a move towards Even’s button and zipper, but Even grabs onto his hair to pull him back.

“You’re calling the shots, you know,” Even tries again, his grip in Isak’s hair remaining stiff.

“I thought I was, too, but you’ve got to let go of my hair then. Or you could just fuck my face like this.”

Fuck. Fuck. Alright, Even really needs to make Isak understand what the hell he’s trying to say.

“No – “ Even huffs in frustration and has to look away from Isak for a moment in order to gather his thoughts. “No, I mean – this” he vaguely gestures towards Isak’s face and body and the bottom drawer by flapping his hand around – he’s not entirely certain Isak fully gets it – “needn’t have anything to do with this,” vague flapping in the direction of his dick and Isak’s lower body. Isak only raises a skeptic eyebrow.

“It’s not only this,” Isak says, and Even lets out the breath he’d been holding in relief that Isak had actually understood what he’d been trying to say, “but it is also this.” He tries to nod towards Even’s crotch, but hisses with the movement from Even’s slightly too tight grip.

Isak’s cheeks are flushed from having to talk about this, but Even feels a lot better knowing – or hoping rather than just fully assuming – that Isak’s doing this because he wants to, and not because he’s expecting for Even to only want this part.

Isak tries to move closer again, but Even tightens his grip and pushes Isak’s head back, stretching his throat out. Isak only blinks in response as he waits for whatever it is Even wants to say.

“And you’ll stop? Immediately? If you change your mind?”

Isak’s rolls his eyes in response, as if Even’s being completely silly in this, but Even’s gaze remains serious and hard until Isak huffs out a breath like he’s suffering before he agrees.

“Can I please suck your dick now?”

And Even, being the little shit that he is, can’t help but grin widely in response and cheekily ask, “I don’t know, can you?”

Isak’s groan sounds endlessly annoyed as he mutters to himself, “I’ll fucking show him what I can,” and that really should’ve been enough of a warning for Even as Isak’s probably never been quicker at getting Even out of his pants and dick engulfed far back in Isak’s mouth, just shy of his throat, and if anyone can gloat with a mouth stuffed full of dick, Isak pretty much manages at the noise Even lets out.

God, look at you,” Even groans out, letting his hand still in Isak’s hair slide down to the back of his head, simply holding, not guiding or keeping Isak down just yet. Isak’s eyes flutter closed in response as he pulls back to suckle at the tip.

“Couldn’t wait to get your mouth stuffed, could you? Were practically begging for it the way you came in here, looking so pretty and all made up, weren’t you?”

Isak groans and blushes but doesn’t pull off, and makes a movement towards his own crotch before Even manages to intercept him, holding each of Isak’s wrists with his own hands, leading Isak’s hands over to the fabric of Even’s bunched up jeans around his thighs. He doesn’t let go until Isak has enough material bunched in his hands for Even to be certain he won’t let go.

Isak doesn’t close his eyes before Even’s hand returns to the back of his head again.

It’s never been hard for Even to speak during sex as his brain-to-mouth filter basically flies right out of the window and he ends up saying whatever he’s thinking, and right now he’s not thinking about anything but Isak’s mouth and how close he’s already feeling from Isak just lazily bopping his head up and down as he lets himself enjoy it.

Time moves differently when it’s just the two of them – Even’s already planned out one of those terrible artsy short films that he knows Isak would call ‘pompous shit’ about it as he grins at Even proudly.

Even knows he’s rambling out loud to Isak about all of this, but the only reaction that shows that Isak is actually listening are the short hip thrusts into the air in search of any kind of friction.

“So pretty,” Even mutters, pushing Isak’s hair away from his forehead, gripping it just tight enough to make Isak’s eyelids flutter. “My pretty baby girl.”

And Isak fucking moans at that, choking on Even as he comes in his pretty panties.

When he draws back to cough and breathe, Even sees the dark red rings of smudges Isak’s left on his dick, and it takes a second for him to realize it’s Isak’s lip-gloss rubbing off.

Isak’s finished sputtering, eyes slightly wet but oh so bright as he turns his attention back on Even. He looks slightly embarrassed Even’s displeased to notice.

“You good?” Even checks, keeping his facial expression neutral until Isak confirms with a slow nod. His mouth is dark and red and shiny from spit and utterly delectable.

“Then get back here,” Even says, a slight grin on his face as he tugs Isak’s face forward by his hair.

He sees how the tension leeks out of Isak’s shoulders with the command; his expression and entire body language revealing just how relaxed and happy he is as he lets Even fuck up into his mouth for a few thrusts before he’s finished.

Isak’s soft and happy after; eyes bright and looking at Even like he’s the entire world, and Even spends the entire evening until Isak’s fallen asleep to keep him that way, entire body curled around him to keep him safe during the night.

He doesn’t forget the look of embarrassment though. He really doesn’t.


He doesn’t until he gets home from uni the week after.

His day was shit, the morning shit and work was shit and Even’s feeling more shitty than he could’ve imagined possible and he spends his walk home trudging in light rain and feeling utterly miserable for himself.

He got several answers wrong during a lesson that he should’ve known, fuck, and then he’d somehow gotten all of the insufferable costumers who spent their time tutting at him and complaining and shouting and he was just about fed up with everything.

Especially when he finally opened his front door with no Isak in sight to kiss him hello. That definitely didn’t improve his already way too sour mood.

He just about throws his backpack – with his laptop – across the room when he finally hears the music.

Soft tunes of a pop song Even knows Isak will deny ever knowing the mere existence of is playing in the kitchen, and if Even listens very closely, he thinks he can hear Isak’s voice following the melody.

He’s slow to walk into the kitchen, careful not to make any noises that would make Isak stop whatever it is he’s doing – probably cooking dinner, Even thinks to himself in the back of his mind. He can already imagine the cry of outrage he’ll get as soon as he questions Isak about his choice of music, but he stops when he reaches the kitchen.

Isak’s there, stirring something in a pot on the stove, body swaying along with the music, but that isn’t really what makes Even stop.

Isak’s wearing the blue sweater, sleeves rolled up slightly as to not splatter any food onto them by accident. It’s the dark grey panties this time and Even can just about smell the scent of lavender and apples over the smell of whatever Isak’s cooking. On his feet are the thick knitted socks that Even had picked up the other day when they’d gone grocery shopping and Isak had gone pink and stayed pink even as the awful cashier flirted with him.

He’s swaying with the tune, hips moving in the air and feet softly pattering on the floor as he moves.

He startles when the floor creaks underneath Even’s weight, but as soon as he realizes it’s just Even his entire face lights up in a smile as he walks over and kisses him.

And Even tries so hard to get the picture of Isak being embarrassed out of his head that he tries to fill the space with lewd comments instead.

And Isak flushes so prettily at the words, but he only looks utterly in love as he folds his arms around Even’s neck and leans up to kiss him to get him to shut up.

It doesn’t work and Even only continues as soon as Isak’s lips have left his.

It’s almost like he’s testing when Isak will be embarrassed again, mind unconsciously desperately trying to make sure that it won’t happen even though he sadly doesn’t know if that’ll be true.

But Isak only snorts and then laughs and then kisses Even again and the fog in Even’s head lifts a little bit along with his mood.

Especially when Isak drags Even further into the kitchen and forces him to dance with him – meaning all he does is press himself against Even, slightly moving his own body until Even starts doing even that for him. They dance for so long that they end up needing to scrape burnt bits off of their food when they finally get around to it, but Isak still only laughs and smiles, eyes bright.

Even doesn’t necessarily forget how Isak had been embarrassed by his own reaction to liking something, but he stops thinking that that’s how Isak will react the next time.


Even has decided that the next couple of hours will be spent lying on the bed, cuddling with his boy.

This, of course, would be a lot easier, if Isak would comply instead of putter around the apartment, gathering laundry that he keeps mentioning Even will have to do – even though he won’t – and that Even needs to move because he needs to grab the bed sheets as well, which – what even is the point? Especially when there’s cuddling to do, Isak.

“Isaaaaak,” Even groans, annoyed, drawing out the ‘a’ to the point where even Isak looks exasperated.

“Eveeeeeen,” Isak mimics, not even turning around to look at him.

Even only huffs as he sits up on the bed, scooting down to the end. Resting his arms on his knees, his eyes follow Isak around the room.

He knows Isak’s noticed it, but he also knows he’s pulled this trick way too many times for Isak not to know what he’s planning.

Hence, why he’s walking around Even with a wide berth so that Even can’t reach him.

Even sighs dramatically and Isak tries not to smile too triumphantly.

“Alright,” Even grumbles, “I’ll check for laundry under the bed.”

“Thank you,” Isak singsongs as Even leans down, keeping a close eye on where Isak’s feet are.

He pretends to feel out for any stray pieces of clothing when he sees Isak move just too close and that’s when he grabs him.

It’s a move worthy of an assassin; grabbing onto Isak and pulling him just hard enough that he sprawls out halfway on the bed, far enough in that there’s no worry of him falling off and accidentally hurting himself.

Unfortunately, Even is not an assassin, hence why he ends up with Isak’s knee in his stomach and a flailing elbow nailing him in the shoulder before he manages to overpower Isak.

“Fucking cheat,” Isak grumbles, trying to shuffle around in the grip Even has around his stomach and chest, back pushed into Even’s chest.

“Shh,” Even exaggerates, “no grumbling when cuddling.”

He can hear the way Isak rolls his eyes and it makes him huff out a laugh which definitely wasn’t appreciated by Isak.

Even buries his nose into Isak’s shoulder, nuzzling the fabric covering it until he gains access to warm skin.

Once Isak’s relented and let himself go still, Even lets the hand he has on his stomach wander down to his hip. He can just about feel the soft and smooth lace peek out underneath his jeans.

“Feeling pretty today?”

He can’t see Isak, not like this, but he stays calm and relaxed so he isn’t too worried about having crossed a line.

“Mmm.” A noncommittal hum is the only response Even gets, but it’s enough.

“Always pretty,” Even mumbles, teeth softly nibbling on some skin in the crook of Isak’s neck, making him curl up from the tickling sensation.

Even thinks there’s more eye-rolling, but it’s not loud enough for Even to hear so he doesn’t react.

Instead he lets himself bask in the warmth that is his boyfriend mixed with the early afternoon sun, already setting, and the fact that it’s the weekend and they don’t have any obligations other than to tidy a bit and get on top of homework, but that can wait until after this little break.

Even toys with the hem of Isak’s pants absentmindedly. He can’t help but think about what set this all off – well, he knows to a certain extent what it was, but there’s a large gap between that night as Isak referred to it as, and that evening when Even found out.

He doesn’t ask Isak about it, doesn’t quite know if they’re there yet, if they’ll ever be there. Even still hasn’t told Isak a lot of things after all, it’s not fair of him to demand any but the same.

“Vilde put makeup on me.”

Isak’s voice is steady and certain, almost on the edge of hard from the nervousness lying underneath that Even more so can feel from Isak’s body than hear in his voice.

Even raises his head in a questioning move and Isak sighs in response.

“I can hear you thinking about it.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Even thinks his voice might also be a little too hard from nerves and the worry he feels that this isn’t something Isak actually wants to go through with him.

Instead Isak laughs. “I don’t have to tell you anything I want to either. It’s not about wanting, it’s about choosing to share something.” Isak turns his head to meet Even’s gaze dead on. “I’m sharing. Sharing is caring, honestly, Even,” he playfully snaps, and this time it’s Even who rolls his eyes.

God, Isak’s rubbing off on him too much.

Well. There’s nothing too much in that context, really –

“Mind out of the gutter, Even.”

Even groans. “Seriously, can you read minds?”

“Only yours,” Isak tries to sound consolidating, but he’s far too smug to pull it off.

They’re quiet for a bit. Even’s not entirely sure if Isak will continue from where he left off, but he thinks that since Isak found the confidence to share, he should too.

“I knew.”

“What?” Isak sounds confused but doesn’t turn his body to face Even.

Even has to swallow before he continues.

“About the makeup.”

Isak’s quiet for a few heartbeats and Even feels like he’s starting to sweat as he lies there, waiting.

How?” Isak’s voice is disbelieving, his mind probably raking through every single memory of the past few months to find when he’d slipped up.

“Magnus,” Even says and has to clear his throat before continuing. “He, uh, he texted me after they’d left, you know, just to tell you thank you and tease that I had a surprise waiting at home because of… yeah.”

Isak doesn’t move, but Even doesn’t regret telling him the truth.

“So… you knew the entire time?”

Isak’s voice is so quiet and does nothing to mask the betrayal Even can clearly hear in it and Even’s heart hurts.

“I came home to my boyfriend,” Even starts, “expecting jokes and teasing and flirting, but instead finding you looking terrified with red and irritated skin from how hard you’d scrubbed it off.”

Isak’s starting to curl in on himself, and Even thinks he might be blaming himself, and, no, that wasn’t what Even wanted from this.

“And I had no idea why you’d done that, if it had been the makeup, if it was because of me –“

“No, baby, it’s not you –“ Isak tries to interrupt and reassure Even, but Even only gently shushes him, squeezing his arm around Isak’s stomach.

“I didn’t know what it was that was wrong, but you looked like you were ready to flee the country to avoid whatever it was so I didn’t ask.” Even pauses for a moment. “I’m sorry about that.”

He knows Isak’s furrowing his brow the way he always does whenever someone does or says something he doesn’t understand.

“Sorry about not making me talk?”

Even doesn’t talk or move, but Isak takes the silence as confirmation.

“You shouldn’t be. I probably would’ve fled the country if you had.”

Even snorts at the response and tries to let the guilt swirling around in his stomach seep out.

“I, uh – “ Isak starts, stopping to take a breath and start anew. “That was when I sort of realized what was wrong. Or, like, not wrong, but… I couldn’t figure out what it was about that night,” he says exaggeratedly and Even has to roll his eyes and smile fondly at him, “that I couldn’t let go of. And at first it was just as a joke, because Vilde… Vilde was just so sad the entire time, and so we got finally got her talk when it was about makeup and…”

Isak seems like he can’t quite believe he’s talking about this, that reliving it seems so odd when he knows how far he’s just come since then.

“She ended up putting some on me, and it was just for fun, but then she dragged me into the bathroom to show me, and –“ Isak chokes and can’t quite seem to continue.

“You… liked how it looked?”

“No, yeah,” Isak starts to squirm, not entirely sure how to express all that had happened, “I did, but it wasn’t really about the makeup at the time, it was more so that I… I felt pretty.”

Even scoots closer and presses his nose into Isak’s neck. Just to let him know he’s there.

“And then, you know, the freak out happened.” Isak’s tone is light, as if he’s making fun of himself for the way he reacted, which makes Even’s stomach tighten up.

“I knew there was nothing wrong with a guy wanting to wear makeup, and there’s also nothing wrong with a gay or anyone just, non-straight, guy wanting to wear makeup, it’s just..” Isak squirms a bit closer to Even, who makes sure to press closer in return, as he thinks about how to say what he’d been thinking. “I didn’t think I was that person, you know? And, maybe, I wasn’t entirely sure that I wanted to be that person, I just didn’t think that was me.”

“Identity crises,” Even murmurs, mostly to himself, and Isak doesn’t react to it. He continues louder. “What did you do then?”

Even sits up so quickly that blood rushes to his head, clouding his vision for about a second when he hears Isak make a sound and the first thought that comes to mind is that Isak’s crying, oh god, Isak, baby, what’s wrong, what –

Isak’s laughing.

“Oh god,” he says, eyes bright, cheeks flushed and smile wide.

“Jesus, you scared me,” Even says as he lays back down, pressing a kiss to Isak’s shoulder. “Thought you were crying.”

“Sorry,” Isak laughs, clearly not feeling extremely sorry about it. “Just, god, I googled ‘soft’ and ‘pretty’.”

Even doesn’t laugh with him, but he does smile at the sight of his boy. He’s had to come a long way in order to laugh about his own fear and reactions that had been going on.

“A-and it was all like, pillows, and colorful swirls and feathers and then, just, in the middle of the screen, a woman wearing lingerie and I freaked,” Isak’s still laughing, but he’s calmed a bit down since he initially started. “And then when I came to a picture of another woman wearing thigh highs, I just smacked the computer screen shut.”

He’s laughing a bit harder again, and Even thinks he was supposed to laugh along at that point. Instead he’s frozen up because, oh. Oh.

Isak calms down once he realizes Even isn’t laughing and turns around to lie on his back.

“What?” His voice is soft, eyes searching for whatever’s up in Even’s.

“Is that, uh…” Even’s slow to start, like he doesn’t know what he’s saying and his brain is trying to talk for him. “Is that something you’ve thought about, before?”

Isak brow furrows a bit in response. “What, thigh highs?”

Even nods mutedly.

Isak shrugs carefully, not entirely certain what it is Even’s thinking about yet. “Not really, not since then anyway.” He pauses but ends up continuing when Even doesn’t say anything after. “Why?”

Even only opens and closes his mouth for a few beats, not answering.

“Is that… is that something you’d like?” Isak asks, trying to get Even to answer him. “On me? Or on you?”

Even doesn’t know if this thing makes him able to have requests for Isak, but… Maybe he needs to stop thinking about this as a completely extra thing between them and just think of it as part of their relationship – which it is, but Even had just been so freaked out at doing the wrong thing that maybe he’s made it into something bigger. Besides, Isak is a grown-ass adult and he’s fully capable of saying ‘no’.

Even still has to gulp before replying, though. “If… if that’s something you’re willing to try, then I’d definitely like to see you in them.”

When Even finally dares to look at Isak, his facial expression is blank, which makes Even panic for about a second before he’s able to tell himself that ‘blank’ at least isn’t disgust, but –


Isak’s reply startles Even out of his mind enough that he looks up at Isak once more; can see how relaxed he is, lying there in Even’s arms, and Even thinks he probably would’ve pulled away or at least looked a bit uncomfortable if he wasn’t on board with it, or at least willing.

“Okay,” Even replies. “So, what did you do next?”

It has the wanted effect of continuing with the conversation, but also the entirely amusing effect that Isak groans like he’s dying from mortification as he presses his hands against his face, as if hiding from the world and Even, as he curls up and turns his body to press his stomach and chest into Even’s right side.

His face, still covered by his hands, ends up pressed into Even’s neck as Even tightens the arm he has around Isak’s shoulder to pull him in further, his laugh filling the flat as he begins the teasing.


With a relationship like Even and Isak’s, it really is about the extremes.

One week it’ll be incredibly good, but the next moment it can be incredibly bad, and they’re both aware of this and Even thinks it makes them stronger for that reason.

But, god, if Even has thought they were strong before, he feels like they’re invincible after Isak opened up to him.

It sort of forced Even into not thinking that this was only an Isak-thing, but might have aspects of a relationship-thing, and it’s made Isak calmer and more comfortable, expression brightening whenever he sees Even once again.

Except for moments like these, when Isak’s looking too debauched, squirming around on the bed from the way Even lets his fingers move around but never on his cock, fingertips tickling the skin on his hips and stomach and groin.

His grey sweater is pushed up his chest, nipples a striking red against the paleness of his skin from where Even couldn’t get himself to let up on them. It’d probably hurt by now if he touched –

Even really isn’t a man of self-restraint and Isak whines high in his throat when Even reaches up with his unoccupied hand the do a hard pinch followed by a pull.

Isak’s eyes are glazed over, chest quaking as he pants to regain his breath, and Even lets both of his hands rest on the side of his torso – not teasing, only touching – and waits for him to calm down a bit.

“So,” Even starts when he sees Isak is present enough to understand and response, “is this what you had in mind?”

His voice is soft as he lets his fingers start to move again; just small movements, brushing the skin underneath his hands.

“Back when you ordered these?”

Even smirks as he pulls on the waistband of Isak’s black pair of panties, letting it snap against his skin and cock with its tip just slightly hanging out. Isak keens and arches and looks otherworldly to Even.

He would’ve convinced Isak to make a sex tape if it wasn’t because he’s too selfish and never wants anyone else to witness this.

He lets Isak catch his breath in order to answer.

“Actually, I imagined myself to be ass up.”

Isak’s the one to smirk now as Even glares at him for being a brat. He pinches a nipple in retaliation.

“So my baby isn’t happy?” Even thinks he sounds slightly condescending, but Isak’s just smiling at him, a bit loopy and Even allows himself to grin back, just for a moment. “Would you prefer it if I were just flip you over then?”

Isak rolls his eyes at him, except then they widen in shock as Even proceeds to do just that. Isak will deny the undignified yelp he lets out till the day he dies.

“Hmm…” Even hums as he grabs Isak by the hips to pull his ass up, moving on to the inner thighs to spread his legs. Isak squawks into the pillow his face is stuffed into. “I must say, this is a much better view.”

He’s teasing and he knows that Isak knows that as well from the amount of times Even has begged for face-to-face sex, but he still bends down and bites the lower part of Isak’s right butt cheek right where there’s no fabric in order to prevent Isak from snickering.

He relishes in the moan, slightly muffled by the pillow, he hears instead.

He sits back and lets his thumb press into the red mark his mouth left behind, making Isak hiss. Well, it’s not like this position is a hardship either.

Especially not as he pulls the string to the side, making Isak gasp at the feeling of air hitting his hole.

He’s clean shaven from their bath earlier that day, and usually Even would make himself go slower, but he can’t really when Isak looks like this.

“God,” Even groans out, letting himself breath over Isak’s hole, watching it twitch in response, “can’t wait to eat you out. Already so wet for me, aren’t you?”

He barely hears Isak gasp in response before he’s going at it. The first touch is just a broad swipe of tongue, starting all the way down from the top of Isak’s balls, over the taint, over the hole, and Isak’s starting to squirm, so Even pinches the still red mark in warning.

Even can’t see Isak as well like this, but he can hear their pillows rustling so he thinks Isak’s gripping onto them to try and will himself to stay still. He doesn’t quite succeed, but Even’s gracious enough not to mention how Isak’s thighs are quivering from the stimulation.

Trusting Isak to behave, Even lets himself delve back in to enjoy what it’s really like to eat out an all-bare Isak.

Even lets himself focus on every single sensation; the way his tongue runs so smoothly across the skin, all soft, the warmth of the skin, the huffs Isak keeps letting out from the mix of sensation and teasing, trying to signal Even that he’s close to having had enough now.

Even only lets the slightest pressure of teeth move across the skin instead to get Isak to behave again before letting himself go back to relishing.

Especially relishing when after several minutes Even lets himself press his tongue fully against Isak’s hole, switching between small kitten licks and broad strokes faster than his mind can keep up with.

“Just look at you,” he takes the time to murmur against Isak’s skin. He thinks Isak feels it more than he actually hears it.

He’s only been teasingly pressing the tip of his tongue hard enough against Isak’s rim for it to just slightly breech when he hears Isak beginning to whine, “Ev-Even, close, close close close.”

And Even… could stop and draw it all out, but…

Instead he reaches in between Isak’s legs, lets his fingernails scratch against naval before moving his hands down to Isak’s cock.

He can just about hear the beginning of Isak’s complaint and knows he’ll want to try and come without, but…

Even’s just a bit too curious not to touch, not to let his thumb press into the head that’s just peaking out of the panties and move around in small circles. Isak’s so wet already that he doesn’t need any additional lube.

Isak sounds like he’s dying when he finally realizes what it is Even’s doing.

“So wet for me, baby girl,” Even mutters, just loud enough that Isak will hear him. His thumb grazes the edge of the lingerie, he feels how the wetness spreads there as well and Isak’s groaning as he comes in hot pulses, making everything so much wetter and messy.

“Something like that, then?” Even is smug and his smile more of a smirk as he asks when Isak’s finally caught his breath and Even’s twisted him around to lie on his back.

“Get up here and fuck my mouth,” Isak demands, “and we’ll see just how smug you are after that.”


Even tries not to spend every single moment of his day thinking about it.

He’ll sometimes zone out in his media communications class and think, is this how Isak felt when he’d decided he wanted something but wouldn’t let himself have it yet?

It’s not that Even isn’t letting himself have it, more so that he doesn’t want to push the issue, so he instead occupies his time playing mind games and imaging future movies and shorts and he really wants to start that artistic pompous one he’d been thinking about since summer soon.

That’s why, when Friday comes and Even’s slightly exhausted from the day, he decides to reward himself by re-watching the Red Curtain Trilogy – or at least start, because he fears he’ll end up nodding off somewhere between Romeo & Juliet and Moulin Rouge.

Even spends his time switching between watching the movie and watching Isak sitting at their kitchen/every-single-purpose-of-theirs table with his laptop, brow slightly furrowed and lower lip being bitten. Even considers telling Isak to stop biting, just to see him flush, but Isak catches him watching before he manages to open his mouth and rolls his eyes fondly.

“Can I help you with something?” Isak’s tone is slightly snarky, but mostly teasing, and Even grins.

“What’cha doing?” He drags out the first a, just because.


And now Even’s interest is piqued.

“Isak Valtersen, the master of every single task between heaven and earth,” Isak fucking beams, “can somehow manage to do nothing?” Even’s tone is overly dramatic and exaggerated, but Isak laughs none the less.

“You know,” Isak starts, the tap-tap of the mouse pad sounding throughout the room, “being the  master of every single task in the entire world includes doing nothing.”

“Yeah, but it’s you,” Even deadpans. “You’re always doing something or thinking about something. The only way to get you to do nothing is by forcing you to go to sleep or by stuffing you full –“

“Even!” Isak interrupts eyes wide and horrified from Even’s implication.

“- of a delicious home cooked meal.”

Even’s grin can be seen from the moon from the indignant huffs and puffs Isak lets out.

“Why, were you thinking of something else?” Now he’s just rubbing it in, but he’s lying on their bed, arms crossed behind his head as he looks at Isak now refusing to look in his direction.

“You know, I was actually going to show you what I’m doing, but now I’m reconsidering,” Isak huffs.

“Oh, so you are doing something, then. Can’t show me nothing after all.”

Isak groans and leans back in his chair dramatically, exposing his neck and collarbone, soft locks falling backwards and oh. Yeah, that’s how Isak unknowingly retaliates. Even tries to tell himself to look away because Isak must never discover this information, but finds himself unable to so he just plasters on a smug smile for when Isak looks up again.

“Well this should wipe that grin off of your face, then,” Isak says, standing up, holding his computer with one hand as he makes his way over to the right side of the bed.

Even won’t admit it, but the words make a spike of nervousness spark in his stomach. He’s careful not to stop smiling, even widens his grin a bit in exaggeration just to see Isak roll his eyes.

But then he actually sees the screen and his stomach tightens and mouth goes dry at the same time as his eyes widen to the size of saucers.

He almost misses how Isak’s grin suddenly turns smug, but he decides to pretend that he did so he won’t have to acknowledge it.

Because right there on the screen is a varied collection of suspenders, lingerie, and thigh-highs and Even’s positive he’s lost the ability to speak. Or think. At least the thinking that doesn’t involve imagining Isak in every single piece.

“I figured,” Isak starts, and despite the fact there’s a grin on in face, Even can hear the nervousness in his voice and see it on his face out of the corner of his eye, “we could just have a browse. And if you’re entirely certain about something, we could buy it?”

It’s not meant to be a question, but Even can hear it in Isak’s voice anyway.

So instead, Even clears his throat – both to brace himself, but also to make sure he has Isak’s attention.

“I’m certain of something.”

Isak’s cheeks are slightly red and his neck nearly cracks from how quickly he twists his head to look at Even.

“What?” There’s a slight grin on Isak’s face which only widens when Even replies.

“All of it.”

“Oh my god,” Isak’s laughing as he sinks down onto the bed, curling his body together from laughter and humiliating fondness. “You dork.”

And Even’s laughing as well as he works his arm underneath Isak’s body, twisting him to face him and lie against the side of his torso.

“Alright,” Even laughs, “I’ll be good and serious about this.”

“Yeah, right,” Isak rolls his eyes, but settles down against Even and brings the computer to rest on both of their laps.

Even can’t help but note that all of the models are women, but Isak doesn’t seem bothered about it so he doesn’t comment on it himself.

Instead, he takes his time to look at each article of clothing.

They’re in the suspenders-isle or area or items; Even doesn’t actually do any shopping online that isn’t to do with editing extension packs and those websites aren’t exactly like this one.

Isak starts out being the one in control of the computer, but quickly forfeits after the third time Even tells him, “No, wait, go back up.”

There are so many; different shapes, colors, designs, and Even can barely get himself to take his eyes off of one pair to look at the next.

He can’t help but note, though, the panties the women are wearing all look very similar to the pairs Isak has. Isak only mutters the affirmation that they are from the same website.

Even holds down control and clicks on a pair, opening them in a new tab where he can look at them closely.

They’re nice; black with a narrow elastic running along the waist and doing a criss-cross in front. The clasp behind is the same for a bra, sitting low on the waist and exposing the entirety of the butt. The fabric is a light, sheer, lace and Even can already imagine how it fits on top of Isak’s existing black pair of panties, maybe even the grey ones…

He’s already clicked ‘add to cart’ before he can think to ask Isak, but Isak only hums contentedly and snuggles a bit closer when Even freezes.

“What do you think of these?” Even asks, pointing on the screen with his finger on a pair of tan-ish grey pair. The elastic is wider and only around the waist, a small bow in the middle. The rest is a polka dotted slash flowery lace shaped in two half v-shaped edges over the hips.

Isak has to clear his throat. “Yeah.”

Even hesitates for a second, thinking that maybe Isak will say something more. When he doesn’t, he instead begins to wonder if Isak doesn’t actually want any of this – is he quiet because he changed his mind, or because –

A sharp bite on his neck brings him out of his spiral and Even looks down at Isak in shock.

“Buy me presents,” Isak playfully wines, poking Even in the stomach sharply until he complies.

Still, he can’t help but say, “Maybe we should stop at these two, just until we know it’s something you actually like.”

Isak rolls his eyes as he curls up again, but maybe he sees some of the truth seeing as he agrees after that.

Isak only points to the section Even needs to go to next – hosiery, which Even thinks doesn’t really sound as grand and appealing as ‘lingerie’.

He manages to change his mind pretty quickly, though, once he sees the items.

The sheer, colored material hugging and shaping the calves, thighs, butts, whatever can certainly be called whatever they want to be called. Even doesn’t give a fuck.

It’s not really the clothing in itself that’s appealing to Even, it’s more so the idea of Isak wearing it; Isak doing anything in it, really – lying on the bed, thighs spread, dancing around in the kitchen, rolling them up his legs, slowly –

“Yeah, we’re getting a lot.”

Isak only sniggers and in the back of his head, Even can’t help but wonder just what if, but Isak seems content and relaxed and maybe Even needs to stop worrying so much about Isak not speaking up about not wanting something.

“What about those?” Isak asks, pointing to a pair of grey thigh-highs.

They have a lace band at the top, probably a bit smaller than the length of Even’s hand. The lace is shaped like leaves and swirls moving around the middle of the thigh, the rest of the leg smoothly encased in the grey nylon. They’re held up with suspenders as well, and Even thinks it’s too great to be a coincidence to not get them, so he grins and adds them to the cart.

They move on scrolling through the selection – just in case they find something else, and –

Even gulps, mouth suddenly incredibly dry.

It’s a good thing they did check the rest of the selection out.

They’re the exact same style as the grey pair, except the lace is white and the rest of the leg is covered in almost sheer nylon, doing nothing more than color the leg a shade lighter, and Even almost gets fully hard at the thought of rolling them up Isak’s legs, one at a time, clipping the suspenders on to keep them up, move in between Isak’s thighs, feel his legs around his waist, let himself just bite at Isak’s inner thigh, right where the lace meets skin…

“Alright?” Even almost can’t recognize his own voice when he asks Isak whilst adding the stocking to the cart.

Isak’s slow to nod, but it’s confident once he does. Even looks down at him, just in case, but Isak doesn’t have eyes for anything that isn’t the computer screen.

Even considers murmuring into his ear what he’d been imagining just to see the way Isak’s cheeks will turn red, body growing hot before he starts squirming from the want but –

From the look of Isak’s own slightly flushed expression and very red ears, Even can’t help but grin as he thinks to himself that Isak probably already is having very similar thoughts.

“That’s it, then?” He asks instead, startling Isak out of whatever train of thought he’d been having. Even writes a mental note to check what it was about at a later time.

“Sounds good.” Isak’s breathless, but he grin is wide from where he’s quietly tugged into Even’s side; so small and pretty and all Even’s.

Even pats him on the bum. “Alright-y then. Get going with you and I’ll make all the arrangements,” dragging out the ‘a’ in ‘all’, whilst pushing Isak up and out of bed.

“Even,” Isak whines, dragging out the vowels in protest.

You said they were your present,” Even teases loudly, “I can’t have you find out about your presents before they’ve arrived!”

“Jesus Christ,” Isak moans, getting out of bed and walking toward the bathroom. “Oh, dear boyfriend of mine who is doing who-knows-what on my computer on which-ever-page-that-I-definitely-did-not-open, I’m going to have a shower, which will give you the perfect time to do secret things on the secret page on the secret computer that I know nothing about.”

“Good idea, baby,” Even says, not even giving Isak the satisfaction of looking up at him.

He can still hear Isak laugh after he’s closed the door.

Even waits until the shower has been on for a couple of minutes, and if he really strains his nose he can slightly sense the scent of lavender in the air before he opens the lingerie section.

The array of different panties and colors and fabric is enough to metaphorically make Even stumble for a second. He just wanted to surprise Isak with an actual present, but maybe this wasn’t a good idea? Maybe he should just get Isak and –

No. He was being stupid and insecure and enough was enough.

No more backtracking and no more constantly worrying that Isak was feeling forced to do this around Even or even involve Even at all.

He doesn’t really want to get Isak something in a color he already has, so he spends a bit of time scrolling past a lot of black and white pairs before thinking that maybe he should just sort it after color instead of whatever the website has automated. Probably ‘most sold’ or ‘most popular’ or something in those lines.

Or, he’s about to, anyway, but like the perfect moment in a movie, that’s when he finds the pair.

(In the back of his mind he is already creating a short film about a pair of pants walking around until they finally find the shoes to match, and he’s not entirely sure if he should just make it an animated one or just go through the effort of working out how to make a pair of pants walk around without a person in them.)

The pair is low-waist, the fabric a light pink cut out in the v of the crotch, and then with a darker lace continuing around and slightly crossing over the very top to meet in the middle where a bow in the dark pink color has been placed. They’re high-rise in the back, only covered by the rose-lace material, and Even can’t help but think that they look very similar to the black pair Isak already owns.

Well, surely, that’s an almost fool proof way of purchasing something like this for Isak. If he already has something in the style, the only thing that can go wrong is the color so Even can only lose by fifty percent. Maybe sixty, if he’s really unlucky.

“Oh, how I’m enjoying my shower, whilst the man of my dreams is definitely not looking at anything on my computer!” Even jumps as he hears Isak shout from inside the bathroom.

It startles a laugh out of him that’s loud enough for even Isak to hear; whom he knows had to shout incredibly loudly in order to be heard through the door and the water pummeling down.

Even’s quick to check out and type their address into their shipping order. Go, go, go, he can’t help but think to himself, mentally willing the computer to work faster.

He closes everything once it’s confirmed his order, closing the lid of the computer, already throwing off his shirt before he’s gotten the bathroom door open.

What computer, darling of mine?” Even says, faux-surprise overly overstated in his voice as he pulls off his jeans and pants all at once.

“Get in here, you idiot,” Isak laughs.

Even grins and complies with the command.


“Earth to Even!”

Even only snaps out of his daydreaming when there’s suddenly a hand waving in front of his face.

Mikael is wearing a shit-eating and Even face naturally forms into a scowl, which only makes Mutta laugh.

“What’s up, earth?” Even mumbles half-heartedly. It’s enough to make Mikael frown, though.

“You sure you don’t want a shot?” Elias asks, holding up the bottle that Even swears had been entirely full about two minutes ago.

Even shakes his head, though. “Nah, not tonight.”

Elias only shrugs and goes back to pouring liquid into the glasses.

“Ey, sober-buddies,” Yousef sing-songs, throwing his arm around Even’s shoulders from behind. “The bestest buddies forever.”

Mikael snorts. “Yeah, right until you have to watch another Captain America and Putin movie, then you’ll be throwing him right back to me.”

“That was fucking art, man!” Even protests only to be ignored by Adam’s comment.

“Yeah, right, as if he’s planning any movie that isn’t about Isak.”

It makes everyone laugh, and even though Even knows it’s at his expense he can’t help but try to hide his flush and huge smile in his hands instead. It only makes the boys lightly push at him and pull him in every direction to their sides.

“When’s the proposal video coming out?” Yousef teases, and that just sets all of the boys off on regular couple’s milestones.

All of the sweet fuzzy-wuzzy stuff, anyway, about gifts and nose kisses and dates and proclaiming their undying love for each other.

And yeah, their life is all of that, but… Even can think of a few more things that their life also is.

Or as Mutta so eloquently puts it right after Elias has spouted off a load of nonsense about the theme of their wedding will be Baz Luhrmann themed – which, no, Elias, get with the program – and all the boys haven’t stopped laughing yet before Mutta drops the bomb.

“Nah, bro, those videos will be so far off in the future. Even’s much more about the present, you know?” They all sort of nod, because, yeah, Even is quite spontaneous and he doesn’t like to plan things too far ahead. Just in case.

“Isak and Even are in their wild youth! Their golden years!” Mutta is making wild arm-movements that make Even consider seeking cover – both in case he manages to hit him from where he’s standing, near the other couch, but also because he’s still holding a full glass of something and Even does not want that particular something on him.

The boys are all hooting in response to Mutta, shouting nonsense about living forever and feeling invincible, but Mutta only shushes all of them in order to make his grand point.

He stares Even deep in the eyes while pointing at him, hand slightly wobbly. “All of the videos Even has planned are going to be about Isak stuffed full of Even’s dick.”

Even nearly feels lightheaded from how quickly he feels his face redden up. Jesus, it feels like it’s on fire.

All of the boys are wolf-whistling and Even can’t keep on his mask of outrage and ends up giggling at all of them.

Mutta throws himself into Even’s lap – Even manages to only wince slightly at the feel of his shoulder getting a bit damp – and nuzzles into his neck.

“Isak and Even, sitting in a tree,” Elias and Mikael have begun chanting, “d-i-c-k-i-n-g.”

“Guys!” Even laughs, “no,” he says, drawing out the –o into a long whine that would make even Isak impressed.

“Deeply perverted videos as well, probably!” Mutta shouts right into Even’s ear.

Yousef doesn’t seem to be able to stop laughing.

Mutta turns his attention towards Even. He pokes him in the chest, “I bet you get up to some really kinky shit.”

“Start asking questions and you’re going to be just as bad as Magnus,” Even laughs, pushing Mutta off of his lap and onto the couch.

Mutta goes to nuzzle Adam instead, who only raises his arm to pull him closer into his side.

Even feels a poke on his left arm and he turns his attention away from Mutta and Adam to look at Yousef who’s hanging over the back of the couch in order to fully face Even.

“It’s good though,” he asks, smile still fully present on his face, but the teasing has been replaced with a hint of seriousness, “right?”

Even can’t help but smile. God, is it good. “Yeah, it’s good.”

Elias “ooooh”s just as Mikael starts a horrible rendition of ‘Summer Nights’, which the rest of the boys are way too quickly on board with, soon having nearly formed an entire dog pile with Even on the bottom.

“This is how I die!” Even shouts over them, dramatically gasping for breath as he raises one hand into the air. “Tell Isak… I… forgot to do the laundry this morning even though I promised him that I would.”

Adam starts giggling and the entire pile starts shaking from the movement.

“Dead man walking over there!” Mikael shouts.

Even groans. “I’m never walking again. Think you’ve crushed my ribs.”

“Seriously, though,” Mutta says, once they’ve all sort of shifted around and are sort of cuddled into each other. They’re only taking up the space around one couch, despite there being two, and Even still hasn’t gotten entirely used to this. “Just how kinky are you?”

“Oh my god,” Even groans, trying to turn away from his friend.

“Because I have a feeling you two could be getting up to some weird shit.”

Even can’t help but laugh at Mutta’s slurs. “What exactly qualifies as ‘weird shit’?”

“Like,” Mutta pauses when he gets distracted by a spot on the ceiling. Elias has to prod at him to come back to the present. “Like handholding and candlelight and roses.”

They all start laughing at that.

That’s weird and kinky shit?!” Elias shouts.

“No wonder that 00’s girl left you, buddy,” Mikael teases, pulling Mutta closer to let him know he’s only kidding.

Even only shakes his head at all of them yelling, only catching slight phrases and words as he lets himself just slightly think of the things that he and Isak actually do get up to. He looks at his watch.

“Speaking of,” he says as he slowly disentangles himself from underneath Mikael’s leg and Yousef’s armpit, “I think I need to get home and be weird and kinky with my baby.”

The responses are a mix of booing and sounds of smooching and sugar sweet repeats of ‘baby’; both make Even laugh so hard that he nearly ends up falling down again.

“Text us if you’re free again next Friday, buddy!” Elias shouts after him.

“Yeah, especially since Yousef is goddamn whipped and is bailing on us,” Mikael says, lightly punching Yousef on the shoulder.

“At least he’s getting some!” Adam retaliates, pulling Yousef closer.

“Hey, that’s my sister you’re talking about!” Elias shouts, “don’t talk about her like that!”

“Bye guys, see you later!” Even says, letting himself out as he hears the chorus of ‘goodbye’s sound from the living room.

Once he’s outside he lets himself breathe for just a second.

It’s sometimes difficult to understand how he’s gotten here. Here, back with his friends, with Isak and all of his friends, and then all of the new friends from uni where he’s actually studying film.

Sometimes he wishes he could travel back to his past self, lying in bed with the curtains drawn all day long and tell him about this. Other times he wouldn’t change a single thing that’s happened, because all of it led him here.

He rarely lets himself indulge in Isak’s theory, about how they would’ve ended up here no matter what would’ve happened. Some days it still scares him, but mostly he finds comfort in the thought.

He can’t help but wonder if all the other Isaks are also expecting a special delivery the next day, but ends up deciding he doesn’t want to know. This is this Isak-and-Even’s thing.

Which is why when he’s finally walked up all four flights of stairs, which he everyday confesses to himself are the only thing keeping him in shape, stops in the middle of the hallway because there’s a postman handing over a package to Isak, who is looking slightly flustered, but not enough to cause suspicion.

Suspicion, Even nearly doesn’t stop himself from snorting out loud. He’s not entirely certain what the postman is supposed to be suspicious of, let alone think there’s anything awry here.

He was, however, so certain that the package would arrive tomorrow that he ends up mindlessly staring in Isak’s direction, even as the postman is trying to get past him to get down all the flights of stairs again.

“Excuse me,” the postman says, trying to silently signal Even to move.

“Even?” Isak finally calls out, “you good?”

It’s enough to make Even snap out of whatever spell he was trapped under.

“Uh, yes, uh, sorry,” he says, pressing his body against the wall so the postman can walk past, “have a good night!” he calls after him, not waiting to hear if he gets a ‘you too’ shouted back before he’s standing in front of Isak.

He’s close enough that the hard package is digging into his stomach, making him feel it every time Isak draws in a breath.

“Hey,” Isak says, suddenly looking a bit shy, but still pleased, under Even’s gaze.

Halla,” Even sounds more breathless than he’d care for and has to swallow a few times.

“How was your night?”

They’re still standing in the middle of their entrance, but neither of them makes a move to go inside the actual apartment. Where it’s private.

“Fun,” Even replies, eyes following the tip of Isak’s tongue as it skirts across his lower lip. “Yours?”

Isak shrugs. “Had a lot of homework.”

Even understands it for what it is. Even only goes out with the guys on Friday nights and that used to be the time Isak would do his routine. Now, however, when Even knows what’s been going on, it seems a bit like Isak has actively been avoiding doing his bath on Fridays.

Even isn’t entirely certain if there’s a bigger reason than just Isak wanting Even to be a part of it all and thus doesn’t want to do it the only night that Even goes out, but Isak hasn’t given him any reason to think that it’s something else.

To be honest, Even’s not entirely certain he could manage to have a conversation as serious as that one would be. Especially not when there’s a package filled with delicacies and lingerie that Even would very much like to see on his boyfriend.

It seems like Isak’s following his train of thought from the look of the blush steadily rising to his cheeks.

“You…” Even starts, showing Isak what he wants to say by grabbing onto the package. He doesn’t pull it from Isak’s loose grip before Isak’s slowly nodded.

Even pulls the package out of Isak’s hand with one of his own, holding it sideways. He can hear all of items slide to the side, but he doesn’t pay any attention to it.

Instead he grabs onto Isak’s neck with his left hand, letting himself relish in the smile that immediately breaks out on Isak’s face for just a second before his lips meet his.

It’s slow and it’s them and it’s lips moving against each other in their own tempo until Isak pulls back.

And then goes back in for just another peck. And then Even goes in and then Isak starts to laugh and has to actually pull away properly.

“I think we’ve given poor Mrs. Andersen enough of a show today, don’t you?”

Even rolls his eyes. Mrs. Andersen, their next door neighbor, is nosy as hell but is mostly deaf so she barely ever notices when anything is going on.

“Alright,” Even mocks, lightly pushing Isak backwards so he can get in and shut the door.

They’re just standing there, clearly unsure of what they’re supposed to do now. Do they just go for it? Should Even say something about it? He doesn’t feel the need to reassure Isak that this isn’t something they have to do and it’s not too late to back out, but maybe Isak feels the need to be reassured?

Before he can get too deep into that thought, Isak interrupts him.

“Oh, darling,” Isak drawls with a fake, posh accent, “I just had to sign for a package which I definitely didn’t partake in ordering. Have you gotten me a present?”

He’s batting his eyelashes dramatically quickly and Even’s fucking grinning at his boy and can’t help but pull him back in.

“Always want to buy you presents,” Even mutters, every word making his lips pull against Isak’s.

The tenseness is gone, but so is the lighthearted, fun atmosphere that Isak had been trying to ease them into as well. They’re left with something they’re not quite sure of what is, but it feels comfortable and it feels like them, even if it’s mixed with a hint of uncertainty.

Even takes the few steps backwards he needs before his legs hit the bed.

He scoots backwards until he’s sitting against the wall, and then pulls on Isak’s hand until he’s tugged him in against his chest, long legs stretched out in between his own.

He puts the package in Isak’s lap and hooks his chin over Isak’s shoulder so he can follow along. Even briefly wishes this was like a movie and he’d have multiple angles on this scene, but he thinks he actually prefers living it from this one; with Isak in his arms, safe and warm and happy.

“You going to see what I got you, princess?”

He more so feels than sees Isak blush at the nickname, but Isak only shuffles further back into Even, so neither of them comment on it.

It actually takes a while for Isak to get past the tape and the material and this wasn’t exactly as romantic as Even had been imagining it in his head. He’s just about to offer to just get up and get the scissors when Isak manages to break through.

All the items are in clear packaging and Even feels his heart speed up in anticipation of when Isak’s going to find the actual surprise.

“There’s…” Isak starts, swallowing, and Even’s heart lurches into his throat, sudden nervousness at Isak maybe reconsidering, not liking it after all, what – “There’s five items in here.”

And oh. Alright, no need to panic.

Even can feel how confused Isak is, though, so he presses a kiss against Isak’s clothed shoulder. “C’mon, open your gifts baby girl.”

Isak’s started to squirm slightly so Even tightens a hand across his hip. “One at a time.”

Isak sort of slumps back, like there had been strings holding him up and they’ve now been cut off.

The first package Isak rolls out is the suspenders in the nude-grey color. It looks nice against Isak’s skin; noticeable, but still discreet. From the way Isak can’t help but run his fingertips along with the polka dots and flowers and elastic, Even guesses it’s just the right type of softness as well.

“Do you like them?” Even’s voice is soft and makes Isak shudder from the warm breath hitting his ear.

Isak doesn’t say anything, only slowly nods, careful not to take his eyes off of the cloth.

Next is the dark pair of thigh-highs and Even watches with rapt attention as Isak lets his fingers run all the way along the pair; from the bottom of the toes to the lacy bit supposed to sit mid-thigh. This feels more like a rush than the best blunt Even’s ever smoked and he’s honestly feeling slightly lightheaded at getting to experience this.

The same happens with the other pair, except this time Isak mutters that he really likes the color, and Even can’t help himself but sneak in a comment about how they’ll look on Isak. It may or may not have been with the intent of seeing Isak get flustered, but also just because that is legitimately an image Even hasn’t been able to get out of his mind ever since they ordered the clothes.

“When do you think you’ll want to wear them?”

Isak’s quiet for a few second before muttering, “After my next bath.”

Even presses a kiss into Isak’s hair to let him know he thinks that’s a good idea as well.

They finish off with the black suspenders, Isak following the criss-cross elastic detail for a couple of moments before his curiosity gets the better of him and he turns his head to look at Even, eyebrows raised questioningly.

Even smiles. “Go on, then,” and praises whatever deity is out there that the panties actually were the last package all the way at the bottom.

Even feels Isak tense up in anticipation as his hands run along the bottom of the package before pulling out the lingerie.

Isak’s breath hitches and Even’s nearly does as well whilst waiting for Isak to finally say something.

Even doesn’t regret wanting to surprise Isak, wanting to give him something, nor does he regret actually purchasing the panties. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want Isak to like it, either.

Isak’s quick to tear the plastic bag it’s concealed in, but then he seems almost afraid to touch it. Even desperately wants to guide his hands towards it or hold it up so Isak can properly see it, but he lets Isak take all the time in the world.

It’s worth it. When Isak finally brings himself to touch it, it doesn’t seem like he can actually stop touching it. He’s running his fingers over the light pink cloth and then continues to follow the shapes of the darker pink lace.

They just sit there quietly for a while. Even’s already understood from Isak’s actions alone that he really does like the unexpected present, so he isn’t too worried about when Isak’s going to actually say something.

That may be why it’s so unexpected when Isak suddenly turns into a flurry of movements, only slowing down to ensure that none of their newly purchased items will be thrown about or wrinkled.

He only stops once he’s fully seated in Even’s lap, straddling him, thighs surrounding his hips, and with his hands on Even’s shoulders.

“Thank you.” Isak’s voice is quiet and he looks terribly shy as he’s sitting there in front of Even. “It’s so… They’re so…” Isak draws in a shuddery breath, almost like he’s readying himself for something. “They’re so pretty.”

Even can’t help but smile at his boy; he’s running his thumbs along the curves of Isak’s thighs.

“The prettiest things for my prettiest girl.”

Isak’s eyes are so bright.


Even has never claimed to be a patient man. Once he’s gotten an idea, he likes to act it out as quickly as possible.

Luckily, Isak can’t really be described as patient either.

Which is why they end up taking the next bath the day after.

To be honest, they both kind of needed it after the day they’d had.

It was like every single thing in the universe had gone against them on that particular day, and Even doesn’t quite know what he would’ve done had he experienced such a day without Isak by his side.

Early in the morning Even’s mom had rung him, waking both him and Isak up in the process, telling him she’d completely forgotten about his aunt and uncle coming to visit them from Bergen. His aunt and uncle were… special people, who sort of chalked up Even’s ‘certain behavior’ to the way his parents had raised him, which managed to make everyone’s blood boil every time this was mentioned.

Needless to say, his mom hadn’t been in the greatest mood, so Even had ended up rushing out of the apartment and into the nearest grocery shop.

Except then they hadn’t had that specific cut of meat his mother had wanted and when Even had showed up at his parent’s apartment and informed his mother of this, she’d sort of had the day’s breakdown all over Even who’d then spent the rest of the day feeling incredibly tense.

Then Isak’s dad had called, and sure, they’re a lot more comfortable around each other than they had been when Even had first met Isak, but the situation quickly turns hostile when Terje carefully but indelicately brings up Isak’s wellbeing in his current living situation.

They’re both tense and Isak is still sort of seething with anger, so they’re careful not to speak to each other. They both know what will happen; they’ll only end up snapping at each other and then they’ll end up fighting and neither of them wants that.

Then just after lunch Isak gets another phone call, this time from Sana who accused him of losing some of her notes, and they end up half-swearing at each other because Isak’s certain he doesn’t have any of her notes but Sana is adamant.

Then Even gets a phone call from a classmate who says she’s managed to lose all of the files and footage they’d spent hours working on, and they’ll have to reshoot and reedit all of it within Thursday when the project is due and Even can already think of how many hours that he doesn’t have it’ll take to do all of that.

They’re very quiet after that.

Isak only starts lowly muttering to Even every once in a while when several hours later Sana texts to apologize because Yousef had ended up grabbing her folder when he’d left yesterday.

It’s when Isak’s placed the last now clean plate in the cupboard after dinner that Even can’t take it anymore. He walks over and buries his face in Isak’s neck and folds his arms around him.

He can feel Isak slump in his arms as he goes to hug him back, and then they just stand there, letting themselves breathe.

It doesn’t take long after that for Isak to start running the bath whilst Even gets undressed. He pours in a dollop of bubble bath, just slightly more than Isak probably would’ve used normally whilst Isak folds both their clothes.

Isak only shaves his legs this time, the hair on his groin hasn’t grown back to much more than a soft fuzz, and Even lets his hand rest just shy of Isak’s inner thigh and lets his fingers run along with the skin.

Isak’s leaned back into Even’s chest and they’re both just sitting there, reveling in feeling content with what they have right now and the moment they’re in. No other worries, just letting the feel of each other and the warm water surround them along with smells of apple and flowers.

Every movement feels slower than usual. There’s no rush as Isak gets out of the tub and when Even lets the towel run along his body until he folds it around his waist, tugging it to make sure it stays in place.

Isak’s hair is messed up from lying on Even’s chest and the heat in the room makes it curl up even more, soft curls swooping around and frames his face and Even’s just letting himself look for moment.

A moment that ends when Isak looks up at him through the mirror, smiling softly when he sees Even’s looking at him before looking down shyly.

And Even can’t help but grin. This boy. His boy.

He barely registers moving towards Isak, but then he’s standing right in front of him and has lifted Isak face with a finger underneath his chin and then they’re kissing.

It’s lips and it’s heat and it’s slow and it’s so good, Even can’t help but think as their lips move languidly against the other’s.

Even makes sure to bring the candle with them back into the bedroom, putting it down on their dresser where they’re certain not to be able to knock it down accidentally. Isak puts on the new panties. Even can hear the elastic snap against his skin as they settle high on his bum. He can’t help but sneak a look and god. His mouth very suddenly goes very dry.

He has to take a few moments to breathe, just to calm down, and Isak scoots onto the bed in the meantime.

It’s the snap of the lid popping open on the lotion that brings him back into motion. He knows that was Isak intention as well, seeing as it’s not exactly a well kept secret that getting to run his fingers all over Isak’s legs is just as enjoyable for Even as it is for Isak.

He’s slow to pour it out in the palm of his hand, then even slower to move over Isak’s foot, ankle, up his shin, over the knee, all across the thigh. He lets his nails slightly scratch against Isak’s inner thigh when he ‘accidentally’ gets a little too high for it to be necessary to lotion.

He can feel Isak’s gaze on him, burning like fire, but he doesn’t look up. Even though it doesn’t exactly feel like it, it’s more so teasing Isak than it is himself.

Even doesn’t remember the last time he felt so hard (except he does, because it feels like this every time with Isak, no matter what) and he can see just how hard Isak in return is; the panties not made to conceal something like that.

He’s barely finished with the other leg before Isak’s finally grabbing onto his shoulders and pulling him up the bed and over his body.

Even lets himself laugh, just for a second, before he turns his attention fully onto Isak and especially on kissing Isak.

Even runs his hands up from Isak’s hips, over his stomach which makes Isak shudder and draw in quicker breaths, before running his hands along his torso.

Isak’s giving as good as he gets and Even’s skin feels uncomfortably warm from the feeling of it. Enough so that he has to pull back for just a few seconds.

Isak whines in protest and Even presses a few kisses along his clavicle in apology whilst drawing in a few heavy breaths.

God,” Even groans, pressing a kiss on Isak’s chest, down the line of his stomach, his lower stomach, “can’t believe you’re mine.”

Isak makes a noise, almost as if complaining. If Even knows him well enough – which he does – he figures Isak’s just a bit too out of it to tell Even that he deserves much more than him.

Even grabs onto Isak’s ankle, folding his hand all the way around it, slowly sliding his hand up his calf.

Even looks up when Isak grabs onto his hair, messing up his – let’s be real – probably already messed up quiff.

The “Mine,” Isak lets out is enough to make Even go beet red, and he ends up pressing his face into Isak’s hip whilst Isak runs his hands through his hair.

Even lets his hand continue its path, up over Isak’s knee, following the still slightly slippery skin, spreading a bit of lotion that hasn’t had the time to settle.

Even ends up tightening his grip around Isak’s thigh a bit too harshly once the idea strikes him. Isak makes a noise of surprise and grabs onto Even’s wrist in reflex to the slight sting of pain, but it does nothing to compare to the noise he makes when Even’s suddenly off the bed and near their dresser.

“What –“ is all Isak manages to get out before Even’s returned, holding out the nude pair of thigh-highs in his hands.

“Do you…” Even trails off at the sight of Isak, sitting up by resting on his elbows, hair thick and curly and pointing in several directions, lips so red from kissing that he almost could’ve been wearing the dark red lip-gloss Even got him that now feels like ages ago.

“Yeah,” Isak replies. His eyes are so dark and so bright.

Even’s quick to get on the bed, but slow to fold out the stockings, and even slower to fold them together and bring the first down to Isak’s left leg.

Isak reaches up and grabs onto Even’s arm. “Wait –“ Even heart nearly lurches up in throat, “should I…” Isak trails off, gulping loud enough for Even to pick up on it, “with the suspenders?”

“Do you want to?” Even asks, not making a move to put on the stocking before Isak’s replied.

“Not really tonight,” Isak says, and a nagging voice in the back of Even’s head can’t help but shout that Isak never really wanted this part and it’s all Even’s fault and – “kind of want you in me, like, yesterday already. I really don’t have the patience to figure all of that out.”

Isak’s grinning and Even thinks the laugh he ends up letting out by accident sounds a bit too relieved for Isak not to notice his inner tumultuous thoughts, so Even decides to distract Isak instead.

“Good,” he says, slowly starting to slide up the stocking. Isak’s breath hitches at the feeling of the soft, cold fabric sliding up his leg until the lace settles around the middle of his thigh. “Because I really wanted to be able to do this,” Even continues before leaning down.

He bites down softly on the skin of Isak’s inner thigh, right above where the lace ends, before harshly sucking on the place. His hand is curled around Isak thigh from underneath, the other pressing down on Isak’s right hip, holding him down and still and Isak whimpers.

He’s quicker to get the other thigh-high up his leg and then, god, it’s like everything in time stops and Even can’t do anything but look at the sight of Isak, lying there on their bed, disheveled and so, so, pretty and Even can’t even keep track of all the things that are coming out of his mouth, but it’s enough so that Isak twists his body to reach the lube, almost going as far as to pour it out on his own fingers before Even snatches the bottle away.

“Come on, baby girl,” Even’s voice is soft and soothing and enough so that Even can see Isak’s already leaking in his panties. “You’re making your panties all wet from how desperate you are.”

Isak’s breath hitches when Even grabs onto the fabric, careful to slide them over the thigh-highs so they don’t get pulled down in the process.

He whimpers when Even’s hands come back to toy with the seam between the lace and nylon, and god was Even right when he thought Isak’s legs would look amazing in these.

“Good girl,” Even mutters as he pours the lube onto his fingers, not slowing down as pushes the first one in Isak.

The noise Isak makes is heavenly, and Even has to squeeze himself through the towel in order to make his head clear again.

“More, more, Even, Ev, come on,” Isak’s already moving his hips up and down, trying to fuck down further on Even’s finger, and Even relents and pushes another one in.

It only sates Isak for a couple of seconds because he’s letting out small, breathy, “please”’s, so Even presses his thumb against Isak’s taint, the bottom of it resting on Isak’s rim, already so stretched out from just two fingers. He can’t help himself but tap his thumb on it, just to test how lose he is, and Isak has to grab onto his own hair and pull in order to distract himself from the feeling.

Even’s grinning like a smug cat as he presses in the third finger.

It’s almost like all the air in Isak whooshes out at the feeling, and Even can’t help himself but rest his other hand on Isak’s stomach, just to feel every shuddery breath Isak takes.

Isak tries to lightly kick at him to get him to continue to the best part, but Even only grabs onto Isak’s knee. He ends up groaning at the feel of the smooth fabric encasing Isak’s leg and Isak’s body nearly curls up in reaction to it.

“You ready?” Even’s asking, even as he’s pulled his fingers out and is slicking himself up.

“Get a move on, buddy,” Isak groans, folding his leg around Even’s waist, trying to use it as a leverage to get Even to move closer and in him.

Even, naturally, has to retaliate by placing one smooth thrust all the way in. Isak sort of gasps and whines all in the same breath, tightening his leg reflexively, pulling Even in further.

“Enough of ‘a move on, buddy’?” Even mocks and Isak groans, except Even decides to actually move in that moment, and the groan ends up turning into much more of a moan.

“Come on, baby, you can do better than that,” Even says, pulling back so slowly, he can feel Isak’s walls dragging around him, “use your words.”

Isak is sort of shaking, head thrown back and shaking from side to side as he draws in a few breaths.

It’s as good as muscle memory at this point, and Even’s hips change the angle with him barely sparing it a thought until Isak reacts, and god, does he do it beautifully.

Isak’s legs are resting on either side of Even’s waist. They’re already shaking, slightly, and Even can feel every single tremor extra tonight, can feel how the smooth fabric slides over his skin, making him shiver and Isak moan.

Even can’t help but let both of his hands grab onto an ankle each before slowly sliding up the leg, stopping only for a moment to toy with the lace hem, before continuing up, up, up, only to do the exact same movements on Isak’s skin around his upper thighs and hips.

“So beautiful,” it just about slips out of Even’s mouth without him properly registering it, “always look so good on my cock, but this, baby, you look so pretty, so good, the prettiest girl in the entire world.”

Isak sounds like he’s dying, and god are his cheeks red and mouth inviting and Even can’t help but lean down and press a few kisses on his lips.

They’re both breathing too harshly for it to be anything else than just small pecks and breathing into each other’s mouths, but Even doesn’t want it any other way.

“So soft and smooth,” Even keeps saying as he’s kissing down Isak’s neck, pausing just below the ear to suckle for a bit.

God,” Isak groans, running his hands over his face, up and down, for a couple of times, “alright, I need a minute, you’re going to make me come already.”

Even is smug, there’s no other way to phrase it, and the only reason Isak isn’t looking completely annoyed is because of how good he’s feeling.

“A pretty girl like you can go more than once, no?” Even says, leaning up again until he’s kneeling in-between Isak’s legs. He gives a hard thrust forward, pushing Isak up the bed until Isak tries to push himself back down with his legs.

Isak’s barely managed to blink before Even’s sneaked a hand down to his dick, thumb running in small circles over the head and Isak curls up from the feeling of too much and not enough and his body’s giving off all of these mixed signals and Even’s feeling a bit too close as well already.

“Can’t believe how good you are,” Even says, sneaking his other hand up to Isak’s nipple; Isak has to grab onto Even’s knees in order to force himself not to pull away from all of the different stimulations, “letting me fuck you in your pretty socks. Probably would’ve let me fuck you right through your pretty panties as well, wouldn’t you?”

Even’s thrusts are hard and fast and unrelenting and it doesn’t seem like Isak can get enough air in.

“Always look so pretty in your panties and your sweaters,” Even continues, “going to buy you a pretty dress, a nightie, all pretty and soft, just like my baby.”

Isak’s pupils are blown wide; mouth open and red as he grabs Even by the neck and pulls him down to kiss him. He keeps on breathing out small “yes”’es between each kiss and breath and Even can’t help but grin and aim his hips just a little better as a reward.

“Going to have you wear your nail polish tomorrow,” Even promises, breathing against Isak’s mouth, “going to have you get yourself off wearing it. Going to have you wear your pretty lipstick and suck me off, see how long you can draw it out. Going to have you wear your new thigh-highs and suspenders and not be able to walk around in anything else all day. Going to have you open and wet and just ready for me to fuck you anywhere I’d like; bend you over the counter or just push you onto the bed.”

Isak comes.

He’s so silent for the first part that Even almost doesn’t realize if it weren’t for Isak tightening like a vice around him, but then gets incredibly noisy as Even doesn’t let up until he’s come as well.

They’re both panting as they’re laying side by side, both sort of curled up into the other’s space.

“Well,” Isak breathes out heavily, “looks like we’ve got plans for the weekend.”

Even kisses him. Long and hard.

And nearly manages to refrain from telling Isak that the weekend will also be described like that. Nearly. The small bruise he ends up with from Isak pinching him is worth it.


“Even!” Magnus shouts the second he’s burst through the door, folding his arms around Even, grabbing tightly.

He’s blocking the entrance from Jonas and Mahdi who are both carrying a six-case of beer in each hand, but Magnus doesn’t care and stays there until Even manages to guide him slightly to the left to let the other boys in.

“No stealing of the boyfriend,” Isak says as he steps in behind Mahdi, his own hands suspiciously free of carrying anything, but Even gets a ‘hello’-kiss so he doesn’t comment.

My boyfriend,” Magnus says, voice slightly muffled by Even’s shoulder.

Nei, Magnus,” Isak deadpans, still walking into the kitchen with Jonas and Mahdi as they go to place the beer on the counter.

“Hey Mags,” Even says, rubbing his hand up and down Magnus’ back.

Admittedly, it is very nice to see Isak’s boys again. With Even finishing school he’d stopped seeing the boys five days out of the week, and he’s in the group chat and has individual chats with each of the boys as well, but it’s just not the same, alright.

“Hey man,” Mahdi says as he walks past to put hang his jacket on the coat rack.

“Hey,” Jonas says, smacking a hand onto Even’s shoulder before following Mahdi. Even would’ve slapped him back, but he’s got a Magnus in his arms right now so he just verbally greets them back and hopes they understand how much he’s actually missed them.

“I’ve missed Evak so much,” Magnus fake-sobs – or at least Even thinks it’s fake – grabbing onto Even just a bit tighter and Even can’t help but laugh slightly at the dramatics.

I’m half of Evak. You’ve spent the entire day with half of Evak. You’re literally with half of Evak nearly every single day,” Isak groans, huffing and rolling his eyes when he walks past the corner and sees the spectacle in the middle of their halfway. Isak sighs and walks over to close their front door.

“Not the better half, though” Magnus mutters, immediately followed by an “ow” when Isak smacks him on the arm. “See, that’s why Even’s the better half, dude!”

“I’m going to tell Vilde you’re leaving her for my boyfriend,” Isak threatens as he throws his backpack behind the bed.

“She’d agree it was the smartest move,” Magnus retaliates, giving all of them the perfect moment in which they see Isak completely gob smacked at the come back that Mahdi refuses to shut up about it for the rest of the night.

Or at least until Isak can get him drunk enough and he’ll let it go. Probably until Monday, at least.

“Where’s the party at, again?” Magnus asks, grabbing a chair and dragging it over to the table, plopping down besides Jonas.

“At Kasper’s, you know, from 3stB?” Jonas replies; quick to take a swig of the beer he’s holding in his hand.

Isak pauses suddenly in the doorway on his way into the kitchen, drawing Even’s attention to him.

“Kasper…” Isak repeats, “isn’t that Mia’s best friend?”

It’s horrifyingly silent.

“You know, from 3stC?” Isak mocks, turning around to lean against the wall, looking at Jonas smugly.

Magnus’ eyes widen dramatically. He smacks Jonas on the arm. “Holy shit, dude, wasn’t that the girl that you hooked up with last party?”

“And the one before that,” Isak says.”

“And the one before that,” Mahdi points at Jonas with his beer bottle, just to be a little bit extra obnoxious.

Jonas looks a lot like he’d rather be anywhere else in the entire universe right now, so Even decides it’s time for him to step in.

“So,” he starts, pulling another chair up to the table before breaking into a wide grin, “who is Mia?”

Jonas groans and hides his face in his hands whilst all the other boys are laughing at his misery. Even can even hear Isak’s who’s gone into the kitchen.

“Just a hooking-partner, or what?” Even prods when Jonas makes no move to answer.

“See,” Mahdi interrupts, “I heard that she was seen coming out of your house last week. Bit more than a ‘hooking-partner’ if she’s making house calls.”

Jonas only groans unintelligibly again, not making a move to make an appearance outside of his hand-bubble.

Magnus puffs at Jonas. “Weren’t you just yesterday telling me off for wanting to booty call my girlfriend?”

“It wasn’t a booty call,” Jonas protests, finally looking up as he puffs back at Magnus. “My mom let her in –“

“You had sex with your mom still home?” Mahdi says, a frown very much present on his face at the thought.

“No, of course I didn’t. I wasn’t home and she showed up and my mom let her in before going out, alright?”

“So you came home to find a girl in your bed, ready and wanting?” Mahdi’s grinning smugly as he takes a swig of his beer.

Even’s trying very hard not to think about a very matching scenario of him coming home from work to find Isak on the bed with only a garter belt and stockings on, writhing on the three fingers already stuffed inside, a forth one just on the tip of sneaking in as well. He really needs to stop thinking about it before it gets embarrassing anyway.

“Well,” Jonas stutters, leaning backwards on the backrest, blush faintly on his cheeks.

“He so did,” Magnus grins, copying Jonas’ position. “Good thing your mom wasn’t home then. I’ve heard she’s loud.”

“What do you mean ‘you’ve heard’?” Mahdi inquires, tone disbelieving.

“Because,” Magnus answers with a tone that sounds uncomfortably close to one Isak would use in the same scenario. Or any other scenario where he’s being a smug little shit, really. “I heard that she was with some dude last Saturday at a party up in St. Hanshaugen. The entire party, like, heard them.”

“Hang on,” Mahdi says, eyebrows drawn together before he suddenly turns his entire body towards Jonas, “didn’t you blow off pizza and FIFA with us last Saturday, and then on Sunday you were hung-over?”

Jonas neglects to answer.

“Like really hung-over?” Mahdi repeats. “As in, ‘I-went-out-last-night-to-a-party’ hung-over?”

Jonas hides away back in his hands as all the boys start shouting at him. Mahdi’s pounding his fist onto the table and Magnus is up and dancing, holding on to Jonas’ shoulders, shaking him around.

“Jonas, you skank! Right there, in the middle of the party?” Magnus is yelling.

Please tell me it wasn’t on the parents’ bed,” Mahdi says, but he’s laughing so hard Even thinks he might be hoping that wherever Jonas did it was equally bad.

“What on earth made you think that would be a good idea?” Even’s laughing.

Jonas only shrugs and shakes his head whilst smiling goofily. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“How on earth did you manage to be louder than a party, though?” Even gulps back a bit of the beer he knows Isak’s opened up for himself. He can currently hear him clanking around in the kitchen and he figures he probably won’t even notice when he comes back to join them. Oh well, they’re practically married anyway; what’s Isak’s is Even’s and vice versa.

This time, though, Jonas is grinning back at Even, eyebrows slightly raised in competition.

“Why?” Jonas asks. “Do you want some tips from the master?”

He’s leaning back in his chair, slouching over the backrest and thumbs pointing awkwardly at himself. If this was a movie, Even thinks he would’ve edited some sunglasses onto his face.

“Got any you think I don’t already know?” Even raises his eyebrows and enjoys the sounds of Mahdi and Magnus ‘ooh’-ing and turning their attention towards Jonas. It’s like watching the audience at a tennis match.

Jonas grins widely. “Well, do you know about how when you get two fingers inside, you can –“

“No!” Isak shouts from the kitchen, something clattering onto the counter.

Even turns around so quickly, nearly already up and off his chair in fear that something’s happened, but Isak’s rushing around the corner, dishtowel still in one hand when he points angrily at Jonas with the other.

“Do not give him any more ideas, just look at what the last one did!”

The outburst has sort of shocked the rest of the boys into silence, but Even… Even can already feel a smile tugging at his lips and laughter getting closer and closer to bubbling out of him. He tries to push it down with a cough, but that only turns Isak’s attention towards him and he’s gone.

Even’s shoulders are shaking and his normally boisterous laugh has turned completely silent from how hard he’s laughing, until he’s desperately sucking in a new breath and then he’s fucking howling and out of the corner of his eyes he can see all of the boys looking back and forth between the two of them, trying to figure out what exactly is going on.

Even isn’t exactly going to tell them about all the things that have happened since Jonas last decided to share information about his endeavors, but for fuck’s sake, Isak, he’s crying at this point.

And Isak’s laughing, head pressed against the wall, and Even can see the boys look back and forth between the two of them before suddenly Magnus is laughing as well, a bit awkwardly and hesitant first, but then it’s like he can’t help it.

That in turn ends up setting off Jonas, leaving Mahdi to roll his eyes at the four of them. “Idiots, the entire lot of you,” he says, raising his beer as if toasting before tipping it back and finishing it.


“Whose idea was this again?”

Isak is leaning in close to Even, and it takes a second for him to gather his thoughts enough away from God, his boyfriend smells good and feels good from where he’s pressed against him and this is his boyfriend, Isak, Isak, Isak, to actually answer the question.

“Why, baby,” Even answers, grinning as he swings the arm not carrying a multitude of bags for the girls around Isak’s shoulders, “just last night you were practically shouting to the world how good an idea you thought this was!”

“I was drunk,” Isak’s grumbling underneath his breath, but he lets himself be tugged in against Even even further as they move to follow Eva who’s leading Jonas and the girls out of the shop to wherever they want to go next.

In hindsight, Even probably should’ve thought about what a giant shopping trip involving five girls and five boys, most of whom are still a bit hung-over, would entail back when Eva had been shouting about arranging such a trip.

To be fair, though, he didn’t think she would be ringing them all up at ten this morning to tell them to get ready for a day of fun.

Even isn’t exactly sure he’s able to do this for the rest of the day – his arm is already quite a ways down the road to becoming numb.

“I need food, Even,” Isak whines, pressing his hip against Even, who decidedly does not mention how it makes his mind sort of short circuit for a few seconds from the feeling. Judging by Isak’s grin, he probably knows it, though.

Magnus wheels up to them and copies Even’s position with an arm around Isak and ends up talking at the same time as Mahdi, “I can get behind that,” from the former and “Why, haven’t eaten enough dick yet today?” from the latter.

Isak sputters indignantly at the quickly moving form that was Mahdi, but he doesn’t bother reaching out to grab him.

Even sighs dramatically, turning his face towards the ceiling. “Oh, I wish.”

“Hey,” Isak squawks and retaliates by digging his elbow into Even’s side. “Take my side or it’ll never happen again.”

The smile Isak receives is so blinding and false it makes him roll his eyes immediately.

“Why, my dearest, darling-est, boyfriend, I, for one, would love to get some food for you!”

“Alright, you idiots,” Noora says, sauntering past them to link arms with Even, in the same swooping motions grabbing onto some of the bags to share the load. “Let’s find a restaurant or a café or something and grab a bite to eat.

“What about that steakhouse?” Jonas asks. “Do you remember, Magnus? The one we tried?”

Magnus wrinkles his nose. “I’m not sure you could call whatever it was we ate steak.”

“Hey,” Jonas shouts, puffing at him, “it was cheap, alright?”

“There’s an Italian about a ten minute walk away from here,” Noora says.

“Nah,” Chris says, “Isak’s apparently had enough meatballs.”

“What the hell is this?” Isak sputters, looking around at all of them as if they’ve personally betrayed him. Even is trying very hard not to do something that’ll make him end up at the receiving end of that particular glare.

“What about Mexican?” Eva calls back at them from the front where she’s turned around to be able to face them.

Jonas wrinkles his nose. “Eva, no offense, but we’ve eaten Mexican three times already this week alone. I can’t take anymore.”

Eva only huffs exaggeratedly. “Stop coming around mine, then,” she says, trying to keep the grin off of her face.

“Somewhere with a buffet?” Noora suggests. “Then surely everyone can find something they like.”

It’s fun, this entire thing. This trip, throwing around ideas, teasing Isak, and Even’s missed this. Sure, he’s made great friends in university, but none that are this close, and it feels great.

With that said, he’s hung around his other friends, the ones that used to be his own squad and best friends, enough to not even consciously know he should check on Sana.

And sure enough, that was probably the best idea of all that’s been thrown around.

He’s not exactly sure how no one’s noticed the uncomfortable, panic-struck facial expression Sana is pulling, but Even figures they probably don’t think to look. Hell, he wouldn’t really have thought to look before starting high school and getting his friends.

He knows what the problem is, obviously, and he can’t help but be a bit affected by Sana’s own panic whilst figuring out what’s the best way to tackle this so that Sana will at least be able to eat something as well.

Except… Even’s mind is clearly thrown the second he doesn’t have to.

“I think Sana should decide,” Vilde says loudly, her usually light voice overpowering everyone else’s, making everyone look over at her.

Sana’s staring wide-eyed at her, obviously not expecting that, but Vilde’s only smiling at her.

“Uh,” is all she manages to get out before Isak catches on.

“That’s actually a great idea,” he says, smiling widely at Sana who’s now looking at him. “Show me a good time, best bud!”

“We, uh…” Sana starts, clearly not knowing what she’s even trying to say, “we don’t have to do that. We can just pick something you guys want –“

Even’s about to interrupt when, once again, Vilde does it for him.

“Nonsense,” she says, waving her hand around as if physically dissipating the words from the air. “You need to be able to eat something as well. Otherwise it’ll take all of the fun out of eating together.”

Her expression is honest and open and based on how Noora and Magnus are looking at her, almost tentatively proud, Even thinks there’s probably something deeper going on here that goes unspoken between all of them.

“I- I don’t know a place close by,” Sana sort of stutters, still looking around at all of the unsure of what’s going on.

“We’ll walk,” Mahdi promises, sauntering closer and sort of pushing everyone to start moving again. “I’m planning on eating everything on the menu and I don’t look this hot by sitting still, you know.”

Isak snorts. “Yeah right. Hot.”

“What the fuck, man, I am literally –“

“Weren’t you the one refusing to do anything in P.E. the other day, huh?” Jonas teases and Isak walks away from under Even’s arm to walk with Mahdi and Jonas. Magnus replaces him, although not under Even’s arm; that space is reserved.

“I don’t know where everyone will like everything, though,” Sana tells Vilde quietly, Even only hearing it because he’s standing right behind them.

Vilde links her right arm with Sana’s left before confidently getting her to walk forward as well. “We’ll figure it out together, then. Although,” she pauses, looking a bit forlorn, “you’re going to have to help. I don’t really know any of the rules other than pig and alcohol.”

“That’s okay –“ Sana hurries to say, waving her hand around as if imitating Vilde from earlier.

“I don’t know if it is,” Vilde confesses, slowing her walk to look at Sana fully in the eyes. “Like, I’m not saying we need to know every single bit of the Quran, but this is something you do every single day and as your best friends we should at least know this.”

Sana’s only looking at Vilde, eyes still wide, but not filled with panic this time.

“I think we’ve been bad friends,” Vilde turns her face away as she confesses, cheeks colored a light pink in something Even guesses could be a mix of embarrassment and shame. She looks back at her for the next bit, though. “If someone’s a vegetarian you remember, so why shouldn’t we be doing this for you?”

Beside him, Magnus looks like the physical embodiment of the sun from how bright he’s smiling at the back of Vilde’s head. She doesn’t see him, obviously, but Even thinks he would probably be screaming to the world “that’s my girlfriend” if he could.

Even sees how Isak looks over his shoulder to grin at Magnus and throw him a ‘thumbs up’. Magnus sends one enthusiastically back.

Huh. Maybe Isak knows more than he lets on. Would you look at that.

They end up spending the next hour or so at a sort of Mediterranean restaurant and then retreat to the nearest shopping centre – anywhere where they can sit inside in the warmth and moan and groan about how full they are before they move on to the next shops the girls want to visit.

Jonas and Mahdi have resorted to being idiots and are sort of running around each other in circles, trying to see who can push or kick the other one without either of them getting hurt and not getting hit back in the process. Eva and Noora are goading them on whilst Chris is telling Sana, Vilde and Magnus all about this crazy holiday story that Even missed the beginning of.

Instead he turns his head to the left to push his nose into Isak’s curls, nuzzling until Isak finally looks up at him lazily and gives him a peck. Which Even pushes into being another kiss, and then just one more until Isak’s grinning from the ‘hoots’ Sana and Magnus are chanting at them.

They’re both so caught up in each other that Even immediately feels Isak tense up when they hear someone else call out Jonas’ name.

Everyone looks to see who’s spoken; some dark-haired tan guy with a too big winter coat walking towards Jonas. Even doesn’t let the fact that both Eva and Isak remain stiff and tense as the guy walks closer slip past.

“Elias,” Jonas manages to get out once the guy is right in front of him, doing a standard ‘bro-we’re-going-to-hand-slap-and-pull-our-sides-close’ kind of greeting. “How are you?”

“Good, man, good,” the guy – Elias – says, looking around at the rest of them, eyes stopping once they land on Isak. “Hey homse,” and Even hates him already.

Isak sounds tired and resigned when he greets him with a “Hei Elias.”

They’re all quiet after that, not really knowing what to say and how to react, especially not since most of them don’t even know this stranger. Jonas coughs awkwardly to try and dissipate some of the tension, but nothing happens after that so they’re right back at point blank.

Elias nods towards Even who immediately feels one of his eyebrows rise skeptically before the guy’s even managed to say whatever it is he wants to. “This the famous boyfriend, then?”

Isak shifts closer, almost as if covering Even from the sight of the guy. A confirmative “Mmm,” is all he replies with before apparently making some crazy eyes at Jonas that’s enough to startle him into talking again.

“You know, we were actually just about to head out,” Jonas starts, indecisively gesturing around them with his hands as he doesn’t actually know where they were hypothetically going to go.

“Oh, cool, where are you heading?” Elias asks, apparently oblivious of everything and everyone around him, enough so that he doesn’t notice the way Jonas freezes up.

“Sephora,” Noora is quick to say. “There’s a big sale so we’re probably going to be a while.”

Even didn’t have the faintest if this was true or not, but he figured that if anyone would be aware of a sale in Sephora, it would be Eskild.

Which in turn meant it would be Noora.

Expectedly, Elias turns his nose up at the comment, barely looking at Noora before he’s back at Jonas again.

Unexpectedly, he says he’ll be meeting his girlfriend there – “did you hear, Jonas? I’ve got a girlfriend under the bag, now” – in about half an hour and he sure wouldn’t mind waiting with them.

The smile on Jonas’ face is strained and Noora is looking apologetically around, although Even can’t think of anyone blaming her. To be honest, though, he’s a bit too busy worrying about Isak than he is about Noora’s guilt.

Isak hasn’t looked up from the floor since Elias had acknowledged his presence, and it would be a big fat lie if Even said he was thrilled at the outcome of this trip.

“Shall we go, then?” Elias goads a bit too harshly considering he’s an uninvited guest, and Even’s just about to say out loud that he and Isak actually have to get going when he notices the desperate looks Jonas is trying to send Isak’s way.

And Isak, whilst still looking down at the floor, probably has some sort of sixth-best-friend-in-need-sense and only lets out a small sigh before moving to stand up beside Jonas.

Except Eva sort of springs up, hair flying out behind her as she goes to link her arm with Jonas’ and start chattering mindlessly about something that Even doesn’t think to pay attention to – at least until he’s tried taking care of Isak.

But Isak just sort of shakes his head and subtly brushes Even’s hands off of him and for a second Even thinks it’s him that’s the problem, but then he hears Elias yell for Isak to come along.

Or, he figures it’s Isak seeing as he doesn’t actually use a name as much as just referring to him as ‘the gay guy’.

Even Mahdi’s getting fed up with the guy and that’s saying something.

Isak quickens his pace to walk beside Noora and closer to Jonas, just in case if need be. Sana hurries to take Noora’s other side and Even’s somewhere in between walking with Magnus and Mahdi and walking with Isak and the girls. Everything is tense and Even can’t bring himself to take his eyes off of Isak, just in case.

Just in case. He keeps thinking it. Just in case. Just in case of what?

He’s not sure he wants to find out what the what could be, based on the way Eva, Jonas and Isak are treating Elias and the way Elias is treating all of them. Maybe it’s better to just stay quiet, he thinks as they walk past the entrance to Sephora and head towards the sales-rack, even if he doesn’t like it.

“Alright, I have to get a new eyeliner before we leave,” Sana says, a bit too loudly than necessary as she goes to inspect the shelves.

Nobody neglects to notice the way Elias’ nose wrinkles.

“Are you even allowed,” he starts, and Even’s body is starting to feel the strain from constantly being tense, “I mean, should you be wearing something like that?”

And fuck. If this isn’t about to escalate very quickly then Even doesn’t know left from right. He knows that Sana’s probably used to such a comment, but it still takes him aback when she doesn’t even bat an eyelash. Instead, she looks almost, confused.

“What do you mean?” Her tone is light, almost like simple childish curiosity and Even understands what she’s doing, really, and he’s so thankful that she’s bringing the spotlight away from Isak, but he really doesn’t want this either.

Elias almost looks a bit forlorn the way Even usually notices people look when they’ve made an ignorant comment about something they really don’t know about.

“I mean,” Vilde starts, running a hand along Sana’s cheekbone in a comforting gesture. “I always thought it looked really pretty when someone with dark eyes marked their eyes as well.” She turns to look at Elias with a bit of a faux-confused smile and Even can’t help but notice the way Magnus is trying very hard not to smile.

Elias, clearly sensing being outnumbered, scoffs and glares. “What do I care,” and then turns as if wanting to look at the products, only to change his mind and sort of awkwardly glance around.

“I hate him,” Even hears Mahdi mutter before Chris, the ever so clever girl, grabs onto his sleeve to drag him off to the other side of the stand, preventing something they don’t want the repercussions of to happen.

They try to make small talk about the products, but all of the boys are really keeping quiet – mostly because they don’t actually know what they can say about any of it other than if they think the color in itself looks nice – “Eva, I have no idea what it means if it needs to contrast. Contrast what?” – but also because Elias is this ever-present dark force keeping them tense and uncomfortable.

“Ooh, what do you say, girls?” Eva asks, holding up an eye shadow palette next to her face, lips pouting dramatically. “Smokey eyes or not?”

The girls are all laughing, but not so loudly that Even doesn’t hear the way Elias scoffs.

“Kind of makes you look like you’re game for anything, you know?”

Jonas is probably the most mildly-tempered person Even has ever met, but his jaw is set and there’s a clear warning in his eyes as he turns towards Elias.

“Don’t say shit like that.” His voice is hard and Even’s about one second from either punching Elias or walking right out of the store with Isak under his arm. Isak, whose fists are clenched and mouth set in a frown.

“Oh yeah,” Elias says, “forgot you already know what she can do – “

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you,” Jonas warns, stepping closer. He’s shorter and it would probably look comical if he didn’t make up for it in a menacing stance.

Even’s certain there’s a full on fight about to break out and he can feel the nape of his neck break out in sweat from how nervous he feels about this entire ordeal. He just tries to keep his hands near Isak, whom he knows has zero self-preservation when it comes to defending himself or his friends.

“Or what?” Elias asks, taking another step closer to Jonas. Their chests are close to touching and poor Noora is stuck by their sides.

“Look!” She nearly yells, simply grabbing something from the shelf. It’s a dark red colored lip-gloss and she’s waving it around in everyone’s faces desperately. “Isn’t this color pretty?”

The rest of the girls are only staring at her, wide-eyed, and Noora is looking at all of them frantically, silently begging someone to say something that will dispel what the fuck was seconds away from happening, but none of them are saying anything and Even can’t think of anything to say that won’t make things escalate either.

“Yeah, looks great,” Isak is the one to reply, and Even’s heart is permanently lodged in his throat and Noora’s eyebrows are shot so far up on her forehead that Even doesn’t know if she’s grateful Isak spoke up or if it’ll make it worse.

Judging by the gleeful look Elias has on his face, Even’s willing to bet money it’s worse.

“Oh yeah, gay guy,” he’s almost laughing, “surely you’ve got a lot of things to say about the color. Do you use it on a night out? In class when you need a good grade?”

Even is already moving towards Isak, ready to grab onto him and pull him back or away or somewhere because fuck this guy, but Isak only snaps his attention over to look at Elias.

“I don’t know about all of that,” Isak breathes out a slight laugh, more so condescending than amused, “but it certainly makes my lips look great when wrapped around my boyfriend’s cock.”

Even isn’t exactly certain how to describe how Isak’s comment makes the situation turn a one-eighty so quickly that it makes him dizzy with it.

It feels like the floor has been swept out underneath his feet and he isn’t sure if he’s feeling proud or scared for Isak. It’s almost like he’s managed to fry everybody’s brain. Except Magnus who’s sort of grinning like a fool the way he always does when Isak slips up and reveals a part of his and Even’s life.

Isak stands a bit straighter, as if contemplating something. “Although, in hindsight, that was a very gay comment, so…” he shrugs, looking in Elias’ direction, almost as if saying ‘what-can-you-do’ mixed with ‘I-want-you-nowhere-near-me’.

“I think I’m going to go meet my girlfriend,” Elias concedes, though he doesn’t dare move whilst Jonas stands in front of him and Isak’s still glaring at him. No one makes a move to acknowledge Elias, though.

“And speaking of gay things,” Isak continues, tone light, but strong, as he grabs onto Even’s hand, “I’m going to go and do very gay things to my non-gay-don’t-erase-his-sexuality boyfriend. But it’s still going to be very gay. And awesome. Because gay sex is just that. Very gay.”

He’s pulling Even away before Even’s done much more than manage to blink, brain still not fully processing anything’s that’s going on, yelling out a “Ha’ det,” right before they exit the shop.

They stay standing on the tram ride home despite the fact that it’s a longer trip than what they’re used to and there’s hardly any people on it so most of the seats are vacant.

But sitting down means they can’t be standing closely in each other’s space; Even looking down at Isak, Isak looking up at him, their nose brushing whenever the tram bumbles along the way. Even is holding onto the pole for support whereas Isak uses him by hooking his fingers into Even’s belt loops.

Min kæreste,” Even mutters against Isak’s lips, Isak huffing impatiently that Even hadn’t bended down to kiss him, “My very awesome, very gay, boyfriend.”

Isak laughs and blushes and presses his face against Even’s neck and Even can’t help but laugh as well at the reaction.

“I can’t believe I just said all of those things.”

And Even isn’t sure if it’s the things Isak said to Elias or the fact that he just inadvertently revealed that he at least wears makeup that Isak seems in disbelief of admitting, but Even’s so proud of him no matter what. And possibly also at least a little bit turned on. Maybe more than a little. Maybe.

“It was good you did,” Even says, one hand sneaking inside of Isak’s jacket to grab onto his hip. “What an asshole.”

Isak looks up and grabs onto Even’s neck with both of his hands, using the leverage to pull his face close enough to kiss. Even goes very willingly.

“Really not the asshole I want to be talking about right now.”

Even kisses him. And possibly can’t help but smirk at least a little bit. But he mostly kisses him.


The bass is heavy and pounding and it fills up the room, almost makes it vibrate along with the beat and all the people dancing. It’s hot and humid and sweaty all at once and Even can feel the sweat being soaked up by the fabric of the back of his shirt. It’s hotter than the summer night outside of the club and Even knows it’ll feel colder than it actually is once they leave.

To his front he has Isak pressed against his chest, his hips, his entirety. He holds a hand across Isak’s lower stomach to ensure that it stays that way whilst he moves his body around in an imitation of a dance move and a sorry excuse of playing it off as anything but foreplay.

He knows all the other people dancing around them and sending either him or Isak or both of them appreciative looks for it. It only makes Even curl his hand around Isak tighter and bend down to start nipping at Isak’s neck and shoulder; anywhere that isn’t covered by his clothes.

Isak, with lips painted glossy and rose-pink that Even can’t think about anything else but kiss them, eyes closed and eyelashes colored darkly and fluttering against his cheekbones. There’s a light shine of glitter as a highlighter high on his cheeks as well and Even thinks he’s shining.

Just underneath his hand, if he stretches out his fingers, he can feel the outline of lace underneath his ring finger and pinky.

“So pretty,” Even has to sort of yell into Isak’s ear. Normally he’d be whispering this, but he’s not afraid of anyone hearing them.

Isak shudders against him and Even’s grin is almost feral in delight. Isak tips his head back, resting his head against Even’s shoulder, in turn making it easier for Even to continue pressing sloppy kisses all the way up and down his neck. If it wasn’t for Even pushing his dick against Isak’s ass through four layers of clothing, he’d be busy feeling possessive and glaring at all of the boys getting a good look at the way Isak looks like this.

“Just look how many boys are looking at you,” he continues in Isak’s ear. He doesn’t miss the flush that settles over Isak’s cheeks in response and the slight squirm as well, no matter how hard Isak tries to play it off. “All seeing how pretty you are,” Even sneaks his hand down a bit further, just shy of Isak’s low-riding jeans, “seeing how hard you are, how much you’re enjoying being pretty like this.”

He only knows Isak’s making sounds by the vibrations he’s feeling against his chest.

“More so enjoying feeling you against me,” Isak says back, accentuating his statement by pressing his ass flush against Even’s hips and rolling and Even literally has to bite down on Isak’s shoulder and still doesn’t manage to keep his groan in.

“Tease,” Even admonishes teasingly, and based on the grin Isak’s sporting he took it none too seriously.

Meaning, Even naturally has to press his own hips harshly forward whilst pressing Isak backwards with the hand he has on his stomach. Isak’s breath hitches beautifully.

“Is that what it is, then?” he’s bending down to talk directly into Isak’s ear, can’t help but notice the red color there and on his cheeks. “Just want me, then?”

Isak tips his head back, allowing Even to fully see the flushed look on his face although he has his own eyes closed, “You know I do.”

Even grins and kisses Isak’s cheek just to see him smile. “Always want you, too. No matter which way.” He knows Isak well enough by now that Isak already knows that Even’s about to say the most gruesomely not-safe-for-public words that would usually make Isak kiss him just to get him to stop talking and tempting him.

“Front-to-front, backwards,” he starts, noticing with a delight the way Isak squeezes his eyes together hard to avoid reacting, “in our bed, in the shower, in the bath,” Even continues, only letting himself briefly remember their favorites in each of those locations, “in that restaurant.”

Jesus,” Even more so sees and feels Isak groan, eyes opening, pupils blown wide, rolling dramatically once he sees Even’s smile.

He can’t help but smile back, though.

“We should go back there, soon,” Even continues, feeling absolutely no remorse even as he knows Isak’s probably leaking in the lingerie by now. “After all, the last time we were there, you weren’t wearing all of your pretty new things.”

Isak is properly red by now, but his eyes are shining so brightly when they meet Even’s, right before he places his hand on the back of Even’s head to pull him down to kiss him.

Even indulges him – the both of them, more likely – letting his tongue meet Isak’s, suck on it, roam around in his mouth, breathing hotly against each other for the rest of the song, before another almost identical one starts to play straight after.

“Always so pretty, though,” Even says against Isak’s lips, left open and waiting for when Even decides to return to kiss him. He presses another open-mouthed kiss there, simply because of that.

Isak hums happily and presses onto his tiptoes to kiss back harder, accidentally – or so he will claim, Even is positive it’s absolutely deliberately – pushing against Even’s dick with a sinful twist of his hips right where his tip is pressed against his jeans. It’s getting close to being far past uncomfortable at this point, but Even’s having too much fun, and knows Isak is too, doing this and doesn’t want to stop until Isak’s literally dragging him out of the club and into their bed.

“Are you wet for me, baby?” Even retaliates with words instead, knowing just how effective those can be on Isak as well. “Wet and wanting? Are you so wet for me that I could just pull down your trousers and your pretty panties and just push into you?”

Isak is huffing out short pants and noises at this point and Even can’t resist the temptation of moving the hand he doesn’t have placed on Isak’s stomach up to his chest, fingertips just shy of touching a nipple which he already knows will be hard and would hurt so delightedly were he to just touch.

Isak clearly knows it too judged by the way his hips won’t still and soft noises won’t stop pouring out of him.

“I don’t think anyone would even notice it,” Even continues, “seeing as we wouldn’t be moving any differently would we?”

Isak pointedly grinds back a little heavier to retaliate, but this time Even doesn’t mask his moan, knowing what it’ll do to Isak. Isak, whose cheeks apparently can turn an even darker shade of red – Even should really make a color wheel based on this.

“Moving so prettily, baby,” Even says, rubbing his hand in small circles against Isak’s stomach, circling down just a tiny bit lower for each full circle. “Looking so pretty, baby. Just look at how many people here can’t take their eyes off of you, can’t help but just sneak a peek at you.”

Isak doesn’t open his eyes to check if Even’s correct and Even doesn’t take his eyes off of Isak to count exactly how many boys he knows he’ll see looking at Isak, at him, at the pair of them.

“Can’t help it with you looking so pretty, but you’re only for me, aren’t you?” Even asks, not expecting an answer, but Isak’s nodding frantically, moving his head towards him like he wants nothing more than for Even to bend back down and claim his mouth.

Isak’s eyes are open and follow the movement of Even lifting the hand he has on Isak’s chest up to press his thumb against Isak’s lower lip, pressing until it pulls down. Isak helps along by opening his mouth slightly, and if they’d been by themselves, in private, in their home, Even probably would’ve pressed his thumb inside, just to give Isak something to suckle on, to concentrate on, but he doesn’t do it here – just rests his thumb right there on his lip.

“Yeah, you are. They may see your pretty lips,” he’s talking so slowly, both to make sure that Isak catches each and every single word, but also so he can see the way Isak squirms with impatience, “your pretty eyes, your gorgeous body, moving and writhing so perfectly against mine,” Isak’s eyes are so dark and  lust-blown that Even’s halfway to debating with himself that he should have taken Isak home yesterday by now, “but it’s only me who know what pretty panties you’re wearing right now.”

Isak’s breath hitches as Even sneaks the tips of his fingers just underneath the hem of his jeans to toy with the beginning of lace.

“Only me who know that they’re a soft pink and match your pretty lips so perfectly,” Even continues, barely picking up the sounds of the music and the people around them, only hearing Isak panting for breath, “only me who know how great your butt looks in them, especially when you’re on all fours, just for me.”

Isak sounds like he might be close to crying, but Even knows it’s only because of the rush of emotions and the constant teasing with no actual relief being given. He still takes his time to press a few kisses against Isak’s lips, just to remind him he’s there and everything’s okay.

“But also the way you look in them when you’re strutting around the apartment,” he’s talking against Isak’s lips, bumping his own nose against Isak’s gently and waits until Isak repeats the motion back at him, “walking around all smooth and pretty and tempting me to just throw you onto the bed and keep you full and sated and happy.”

Even almost gets whiplash from how quickly Isak moves away from his body, feels the cold seep into his front despite how hot the club actually is.

They’re standing front to front now with a foot’s length in-between them, bodies standing still amongst a sea of moving people and Even can’t look away from Isak; the way he’s looking practically debauched despite barely having been touched.

Isak reaches out his hand and grabs onto Even’s, starting to tug him to get him to follow him wherever he’s walking backwards to.

“Home?” Even has to shout with the added distance between them, hoping Isak’s hears it as they’re actually moving away from the entrance and it’s difficult enough to move around without going to wrong direction.

But Isak only grins at him as he shakes his head no and continues to tug at Even to get him to follow him faster.

Even raises one eyebrow questioningly, but Isak just keeps on smiling until Even’s complying, stepping closer to Isak so it’s easier to push people out of the way whilst still allowing Isak to walk backwards.

And Even follows without question, as he always does and probably always will, even when Isak isn’t smiling at him the way he is now; all mischievous and desperate, but not so impatient as to tell Even when they’re headed so they he can help out and get them there faster.

He can’t help but raise his eyebrows in disbelief when Isak pushes the door to the vacant toilet open with his back, but Isak’s grinning and pulling him down for a kiss when the door shuts heavily behind them.

Even has no idea exactly what it is Isak’s imagining will go down in a public restroom this night, but he makes sure to steer them towards the least disgusting looking stall there is, just so no one will walk in on them completely.

Isak only stops kissing him long enough to lock the bolt in place and then he raises himself onto his tiptoes, grabs onto Even’s shoulders for support and kisses him, and Even isn’t sure where he wants to put his hands first, wants to feel soft skin and a warm body first, so he just lets himself roam around; Isak’s waist, his bum, his stomach, his shoulder, upper back, neck, hair – God, his hair, Even can’t help but note to himself, twirling a lock around his fingers before tugging.

It wasn’t harshly – not yet, anyway, but Isak sags against him like all of his strings have been cut lose, head tilting backwards, and Even can’t resist backing him up against the wall, pushing his body against Isak’s to hold him in place, and then move down Isak’s jaw, his neck, stopping just long enough on the pulse point and behind his ear to leave behind sore-looking red marks.

He can already see in his mind the way Isak is about to roll his eyes at the possessive move in about two seconds, so he hurries to push a leg in between Isak’s own, pressing forward and a bit up, and Isak’s groan interrupts whatever sassy body language he was about to speak.

God, I love you,” Even pants hotly against Isak’s wet skin, making Isak whine and curl up a bit from the sensitivity whilst Even tries to catch his breath, “love you every single way I can get you, but also like this; so pretty and ready and desperate.”

To be honest, Even’s feeling pretty desperate himself, feels ready to just about ready to burst right then and there in his jeans before he’s even gotten his hands properly on Isak, and Isak seems to know that as well.

He surges up and presses a few hot kisses against Even’s lips, tongue warm and insistent but remaining at the entrance of Even’s mouth before Even grows tired of it and sucks it in.

Clearly, however, that was what Isak had been waiting for; Even to be distracted, seeing as he immediately surges the opportunity and pushes Even backwards, back hitting against the opposite wall, but Even barely registers the impact before Isak’s pulled back – only so far that he’s still, but only, breathing out against Even’s lips.

His eyes are open and bright and shining and he’s grinning at Even in excitement, and Even’s helpless to do anything but grin back.

The grin, however, very quickly turns into a groan and a moment of proving a saint’s level of self-restraint as Isak then sinks to his knees, not even paying attention to the fact it’s a dirty toilet floor his resting on, as he presses his face against Even’s naval.

Even can feel the heat and bumps of Isak’s face press against his hip, his stomach through his shirt; can feel when he kisses him as he works open the button and zipper of his jeans, and then he feels when he does the same over the last remaining layer over his cock.

Even groans and ends up banging his head against the wall with a resounding thud that’s loud enough that Isak stops his movements just to check up on him.

And god, this boy will be the death of him, is the only thing he can think of as he looks down at Isak; sees the way the color on his lips is already slightly smudged, can’t help but think how much of the color is on his own lips and how much is now on his clothes, can’t help but think about how much more will rub off on his cock.

But Isak doesn’t give him any more time to think about it and instead pushes Even’s underwear down just until he’s hanging out of them and Isak can take him into hand.

Even’s knees are already shaking before Isak’s even put his mouth on him, and the grin Isak’s sporting is enough to tell Even that he’s very much aware of that too.

Apparently, he knows Even a little too well, though, because just as Even’s about to say something that he knows from experience will make Isak feel just as close, Isak moves forward and starts pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses all the way up his shaft, then lips closing around his tip, the noises turning filthy as Isak starts suckling.

“Jesus, look at you,” Even can’t keep himself from saying, can’t keep himself from looking away either, because Isak really is a sight for sore eyes; cheeks flushed and mouth stretched and eyes bright and Even can’t think of wanting anything more than to wreck him in the best ways possible.

Isak preens under the attention and awards Even with doing just that thing with his tongue, and Even can’t keep any noises in – can barely pay attention to what he’s saying.

He knows he’s spewing out a plenitude of words about the way Isak looks; so pretty and wonderful and his, and he can feel Isak’s moan at this all the way through his body, settling in his lower stomach as he grabs onto a chunk of Isak’s hair at the back of his head.

He doesn’t push and he doesn’t guide, just rest his hand there to let Isak know that he could, and he sees the way Isak closes his eyes as he sinks down another inch, only looking up at Even occasionally through his eyelashes. Even never fails to comment on how pretty his eyes are like this with the dark color around his eyes; how green they look.

He can see that some of the glitter around Isak’s cheeks are smudged as well, figures it’s probably on his own face and on his hands, which means by now it’s in Isak’s hair. He can’t help but think about what he’ll do to Isak once they get home and in the shower – eventually anyway.

Isak pulls back and draws in heavy breaths through his mouth, and Even can see pink lip-gloss formed in a ring around his cock where Isak’s had gotten down the furthest and some more smudged outside the lines of Isak’s own mouth.

“Baby,” Even moans, sneaking the hand he’d had in Isak hair down around his throat, just gently pressing, just enough to make Isak feel it and Isak’s breath hitches with a soft and desperate noise before he’s sinking down on Even again.

“Always so good to me,” Even says, brushing curls back from Isak’s forehead, and he can see that Isak’s legs are quivering from where he’s holding his weight up on his knees, knows it’s more so desperation than discomfort, “so pretty, the prettiest girl in the entire world.”

Even feels the noise Isak makes as he takes in another inch, almost as if stuffing his own mouth full will make Even stop talking.

“Looks good no matter which way I see you; dancing around in our home with your panties and stockings, looking all pretty and happy, when you’re stuffed full of me and when you’re all sated and soft.”

Isak’s hands are shaking from where he’s presses them against Even’s hips, the material of his jeans bunched tightly inside his fists.

“When you’re in the bath, all wet and smooth with all your nice scents surrounding you, you have no idea how good you look when you put on your lotion, running your hands all over your skin until you’re all soft, when you let me put on your lotion on you.”

Isak is breathing harshly through his nose, and Even pulls him back a bit sharply by tugging on his hair until he pops off with a lewd noise and a whine from the sudden pain until he’s gotten his breath and Even lets him go back to bobbing his head.

“When you let me in between your legs,” Even’s voice is quiet and dark and he mentally notes and catalogues every single shudder Isak makes whenever he speaks, “can spend hours there, not even fucking you, just lying on my stomach, leaving marks on your thighs until you’re dripping wet from how ready you are for me to move on.”

Isak shuffles around on his knees, almost as if mindlessly searching for friction or relief from somewhere and Even can think of at least a dozen ways he wants to get Isak off before Isak’s managed to take him in deeply again.

“Bet you’re already dripping wet for me now, aren’t you?”

Isak’s cheeks color a bright red and Even knows he is.

“How wet have you gotten your pretty panties, huh?” Even asks, making Isak’s whole body shake before he apparently decides to retaliate.

Even is helpless against the thing Isak can do with his tongue before he’s had his mouth on him for this long – however when he does it when Even’s buried so deep he can feel the back of his throat, he barely has enough capacity and time to get out a noise that resembles Isak’s name to warn him before he comes.

It feels like his orgasm is happening forever, being drained out of him, prolonging as he feels Isak swallow and swallow around him before finally drawing off, leaving both of them panting and warm and flushed as Even tugs himself back in.

 He hauls Isak off of the ground, holding him up until Isak’s gotten control over his shaky stiff legs before he sinks down on his knees.

Isak’s hips are already thrusting towards Even’s mouth before he’s even gotten him out of his jeans, but Even only forces them back with his hands on his hips, pressing him against the wall once he’s gotten every single layer off of him, his dick flushed red and angry.

And Even knows Isak thinks he’ll go deep all at once, probably wants him to because that’ll mean he’ll get off immediately, but instead Even lets his tongue swirl around the tip a few times before taking it just into his mouth, tongue digging into the slit and swirling around in precise movements.

It takes about a second for Isak to get it, but when he does, he makes a sound like he’s dying and his knees would’ve buckled if Even hadn’t had such a grueling grip on his hips to prevent it.

Even’s barely gotten to swallowing it all before Isak’s pulling him up off his knees and kisses him.

It’s still so desperate, almost as if they haven’t just gotten each other off in a bathroom in a gay club, but instead are ready to just start.

It’s hot and wet and Even can taste himself on Isak’s tongue and knows Isak can taste himself on his.

He feels Isak’s dick twitch, still half-hard, where it’s pressed against his thigh, sliding on the rough material of his jeans, enough to make Isak hiss harshly from sensitivity and Even’s careful as he tugs Isak back into the lingerie, groaning softly as Isak winces at how wet the fabric feels, before kissing him as a distraction as he does Isak’s button and zip.

“So good,” he murmurs against Isak’s lips and never wants to forget how Isak looks, all flushed and happy and eyes so, so dark but so bright as he plays with Even’s quiff, which he knows by now is probably flopping a bit all over the place.

“Mmm?” Isak hums rhetorically as he bends his head backwards and presses his nose against Even’s, silently asking for a kiss.

“Mmm,” Even confirms teasingly, making Isak grin, “the best. My best girl. Going to take you home and give you a treat.”

Isak’s eyebrows rise inquisitively and curiously. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Even says, not resisting the urge to press another kiss on Isak’s lips, “Want to take a trip down memory lane.”

At this point Isak’s eyes are scrunched up from a wide disbelieving and confused smile whist his eyes are screaming ‘infuriatingly fond’ at Even for the smirk he knows he’s wearing.

“Which memory?” Isak finally asks, and Even slides his hands down on Isak’s hips, thumb caressing the skin that he knows will be bruised come morning through his shirt.

“A special one,” Even retaliates vaguely purposely.

Isak rolls his eyes. “Yes, of course, let me just filter out all of the non-special memories we’ve made together –“

He cuts off with a giggle when Even digs his fingers into his side, holding him still with his body to keep him from squirming from the tickling.

“Dick,” Even teases half-heartedly, can’t do anything more when Isak’s smiling and laughing and happy and free, can’t do anything but kiss him. Just once more.

Which special memory?” Isak asks petulantly and Even almost withholds the evidence, just so he can see Isak whine and pester him for the entire trip home.


Instead he slides his hands down on Isak’s butt, grabbing a fistful of each cheek before pulling Isak in and making him grind up against his hip.

Isak whimpers from the feeling, hands curling around the neck of Even’s shirt, eyes blown wide as Even bends down and speaks the answer into Isak’s open mouth.

“A special night,” he starts, paying attention to every single part of Isak’s face, wants to see how he looks when he realizes, “that I not only want to recreate but improve. A special night where I made  you come so many times without touching you that you could barely stand to be touched for the rest of the night and couldn’t sit and move the next morning without remembering every single moment of it.”

And there it is; the gawking look that Even had imagined and expected as he’d planned this before dragging him out to dance, matched with full-blown pupils and a slight unintentional squirm before Even manages to pin him again.

“How many times was it I made you come that time?”

Isak has to swallow a few times before he remembers how to string together noises into actual words. “Five times.”

“A record.”

“Uh-huh.” Isak’s voice sounds breathless.

Even nods before looking Isak dead in the eye, voice dropping an octave. “I want to beat that record.”