"I'm going to do it," Mark announced in lieu of greeting.

As far as ways to start a phone conversation went, this was a new style for Mark. "Shave off your eyebrows? Rob a bank? Convince the hospital administration to host a reality TV show during your working hours? You need to be more specific."

"What? Those are all terrible suggestions," Mark spluttered on the other side of the line. "And you're a terrible friend."

"I am," Josh agreed, his tone grave. "I don't know how I manage to live with myself, really. Now what are you going to do that's so important you had to call me on your lunch break?"

"I'm going to propose! How did you go to reality shows and shaved eyebrows before going there?"

Propose? Already? It seemed a bit too soon for Josh, but Mark sounded more than thrilled, and... No, he realized, it probably wasn't too soon; it was just that Josh had missed quite a bit of what was going on in his friend's life in between clients and the ever-present distraction that was Emery. Had it really been over a year since he'd had to spell out to Mark that Michelle wanted him to take her out? Almost fifteen months, now that he thought about it. "No outrage for the bank robbery?"

"No, I might actually need that for the wedding. And you said it on the phone, so if I get caught I have proof you're the mastermind."

His lips curved upward, delight at his best friend's happiness coloring his voice. "Robbery aside, that's amazing, Mark, really." A pause, as mischief replaced its kinder counterpart. "I mean, she's going to turn you down, obviously, she's way out of your league, but it's amazing you're going to go ahead and put yourself out there anyway."

"Ugh. Why do I tell you these things in advance?"

"Because you need me to cool you off so you look smooth when you actually ask, of course," he replied without missing a beat.

"Sure. You're my portable freezer. Not a bad thing — next game night I'll know where to shove my beer cans."

"Hey! Uncalled for!" Ugh. The only thing that was uncalled for was Josh's inability to come up with a better answer. Mark had no business winning their verbal sparring. If Josh flopped down on his bed the very same instant and turned on his ancient laptop, googling humiliating ideas for bachelor parties, Mark had only himself to blame.

"Yeah, yeah. Listen, my birthday, a week from Saturday, my place, dinner. You can bring Emery if you'd like."

Josh raised his eyebrows even though his best friend couldn't see him. "Oh, he's 'Emery' now? What happened to 'boy toy'?"

"I took the time to actually get to know the man. You should try it one of these days."

A muscle in Josh's jaw ticked at the familiar needling. He sometimes missed the old days, when Mark had been sure Emery was a threat to Josh's well being, instead of its saviour. "You're just saying that because he does your taxes."

"No, if this was about my taxes I'd call him God's gift to mankind or something. Anyway, tell him he's invited if you want. I have to go — lunch break's over."

"I demand to be the best man, just so you know," Josh added, hoping that was what Mark had in mind to begin with.

Mark's voice was warm as he replied, "Would I ask anyone else?"

His best friend was proposing, Josh mused as he hung up, feeling absurdly proud. It hadn't ever been something Josh craved for himself, but he couldn't help a little wistfulness at the thought.

#

Emery's time had grown limited as demand for his services rose, and Josh found himself with more opportunities to indulge in delightful hobbies... Such as cleaning the kitchen. Sarcasm aside, he was pleased, he mused as he wiped the inside of his oven. Emery had approached domestic chores with borderline obsession; it was a way, Josh knew, of feeling that he was contributing to room and board. Emery regaining his financial independence put them both on more equal footing, and there was nothing Josh welcomed more. Even if it meant his hair now felt disgustingly greasy and he'd have to wash it today, rather than tomorrow for the party.

The party.

Josh hadn't forgotten Mark had told him the decision to invite Emery rested on Josh's shoulders, but he was making an effort not to think about it too hard. Thinking about it would force him to make a decision to either include or exclude Emery, and he didn't want to do either. That being said, it was still Friday. Tomorrow. He'd ask Emery if he wanted to go tomorrow.

The object of his thoughts opened the front door, making Josh forget he was pleased at the more equitable domestic chores. Emery could have had the decency to come home a little later, after Josh had showered, instead of waltzing in, probably still wearing the smart charcoal suit he'd left in that morning, while Josh's limp hair looked like something out of a survival horror game. He shoved his entire head in the oven, wondering if he could get away with keeping it there and hoping Emery had something to do in his bedroom. All he needed was a chance to make a run for the bathroom.

"Josh?" Damn it, he was coming nearer. He'd caught on to what Josh was doing, judging by the mirth in his tone. "Is this an ill-conceived suicide attempt?"

"Oh, bite me."

"Now?" Emery's voice spoke of someone who was having far too much fun at Josh's expense. "But you're not even properly cooked yet."

Ugh. He kept his head right where it was. "How about you try cleaning this thing and I stand there mocking you instead?"

"I have, as you put it, attempted to clean that thing many times before. I've never felt compelled to fit my entire head inside it."

"It's called being thorough."

He couldn't see Emery, but he could picture the way his shoulders shook in laughter. "I'll leave you to be thorough in peace, then." And then, blandly, "Would you like me to run the water for your shower on the way?"

Damn the man and how well he knew Josh.

#

Emery was on the phone, sitting on his perch at the counter, when Josh opened the bathroom door to let out some steam as he finished shaving. He didn't intend to eavesdrop, but he caught snippets of the conversation regardless.

"I believe so, yes. It shouldn't be a problem. Mmm. The work itself is done — did I miss anything?" Emery's tone rose slightly in surprise. "Oh. No, of course I'm not opposed to coffee merely for coffee's sake. Apologies, it hadn't crossed my mind. Yes, tomorrow evening will be acceptable. I'll see you then, Tony."

Something twisted in Josh's gut. Coffee merely for coffee's sake with Tony, the bedhead, who'd spent more than a few nights pouring over taxes with Emery already. Joshy didn't know the man, but surely Emery could do better? Did Emery even realize the bedhead was after more than a friendly cup of coffee? Not that it was Josh's business, of course.

He looked at his hand to realize with some dismay he'd been pouring aftershave on it for a solid minute, closing the bottle before setting it down with more force than necessary.

"I am pleased to see you are as thorough with your shower as with the oven, if not more so," Emery said with a grin as Josh walked out. Josh grimaced.

"Yeah, um... Listen, I'm going to go for a jog."

"After you've just showered and before dinner?" A puzzled, concerned look. "Is something the matter? Can I offer my assistance in any way?"

Emery's damned need to offer his assistance in any way was what was the matter. "Sometimes going out for a run earlier is just going out for a run. Not everything is a puzzle to be solved."

Emery's face fell at Josh's cold dismissal, but Josh didn't stick around to hear his reply; he made straight for the bedroom and changed clothes at lightning speed so he could escape the apartment.

An hour later, lungs burning, the twisting in his gut hadn't eased, but the jog had brought clarity. He was jealous. Josh was fucking jealous, which was something he'd never been before in his life. Not even when one of Brian's coworkers — he couldn't remember the man's name, but he'd been far more handsome than Tony the bedhead — had flirted with Brian so blatantly at a company dinner that Josh had wondered if the man had been about to get himself fired on the spot. He remembered the weirdness of the conversation that followed, Brian's slight hurt over Josh's inability to summon at least a little jealousy.

It hadn't mattered, and Brian had been his boyfriend. Emery was his... His what? His friend, his roommate? The love of his fucking life, whom he couldn't seem to forgive or get over, no matter what he did? Distance hadn't helped, familiarity didn't help, and now he was jealous over a man who wanted to have a damned cup of coffee.

'A number that would be acceptable to you. That you'd charge. For the pleasure of your company.'

What would Emery do for fun now, that he couldn't string Tony the bedhead along only to see him played for a fool once he admitted his interest?

Josh was being unfair. Whatever had been going through Emery's mind, whatever had prompted that absurd statement, Josh had never seen him try to play anyone for a fool either before or after that night. But why then? Why on the one occasion that had mattered more than any other to Josh?

The man who read poetry and discussed numbers with such passion, who went out of his way to ensure Josh didn't feel coerced into going to dinner when he might not want it — where had that man been at that moment? The man who understood Josh's needs like no other, who set his own work aside whenever Josh came home wrecked after a client's passing to simply be there? Why had he chosen that single point in time to disappear? To go on some kind of sick power trip?

'Ask him about it,' Mark had said. 'Talk.'

Could he do it? Josh found himself just outside his building, sweaty and needing another shower, his heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with his run. Could he just walk home and ask Emery to explain why he'd tried to pay for — how had he put it? The pleasure of Josh's company?

He took the stairs two by two. What would Emery say? Would it matter? Would there be a good enough explanation for Josh to contemplate giving Emery the chance to crush him again, laid out on a silver platter?

Trying to picture what Emery might say was no use — Josh's mind kept jumping ahead, to what it would feel like to kiss him at last, sweaty from his run or not. To say 'Forget coffee. I'm right here — choose me instead'?

"Josh?"

Emery was standing in plain view, a bottle of olive oil in one hand and a spatula in the other, wearing a concerned look. Josh had opened the door without even noticing, thoughts racing a mile a minute. 'Why,' he wanted to ask, 'Why did you do that to me?'

The words stuck in his throat, as they had every time before. He'd never been this close, but he couldn't bring himself to speak them. And Emery was going to go and have coffee with Tony the bedhead, and if not the bedhead then someone else, and Josh would still be standing here, rendered mute by the very words he needed to voice. He closed the door behind him.

"It's Mark's birthday tomorrow," he said instead of 'I love you.' "It's an important one, and he wanted me to invite you. Can you come to dinner?"

Tentative concern morphed into resigned hurt, Emery's shoulders falling along with his eyes. "Feel free to make up whatever excuse you feel appropriate, Josh. I have no desire to intrude on your celebration."

Oh. Emery assumed Josh didn't want him to accept — why wouldn't he, with the way Josh had made it clear he'd rather Emery didn't come to game night? He stepped closer, until the only thing between Emery and himself was the counter. "You're not intruding. Mark really wants you to come." He swallowed, thinking of the cup of coffee Emery would be having if he didn't go to the party, and its potential implication. "I really want you to come."

Surprise slowly replaced the hurt in Emery's expressive brown eyes. "You do? I..." A smile, the kind that made the crinkles Josh loved so much appear around his eyes. "I would be glad to accompany you."

Josh smiled back, relief warring with the unreasonable chasm of yearning inside him. "That's great. Let me just jump in the shower and I'll help with dinner."

The last thing he heard as he closed the bathroom door was Emery, greeting Tony the bedhead on the phone.