“He just needs someone to support him. When he needs it.”
“That’s what you need, too.” Grant raised a brow.
“I’m more worried about him.”
“And I’m worried about you. You’re my best friend.”
Adam exhaled, closing his eyes and letting his chin fall against his chest. “I don’t want to mess things up with Cooper. I love him. He…we love each other.”
“You loved each other before.” Grant stood up, one of his knees cracking as he straightened his legs. “Listen to me, because I don’t want to repeat myself. This thing you have with Cooper is solid, and you know better than most how important communication is. So communicate. Let him know what you’re worried about and see what he has to say.”
Before Adam could reply, Grant went into the kitchen. Adam listened to him fumble around in the cabinets, pulling out plates and what sounded like bags of food. The microwave turned on and Adam sighed to himself. He knew the logic of what Grant was telling him, but the fear about confronting Cooper with his concerns had him feeling nervous.
He knew Cooper wanted to give Adam the things he needed, but Adam didn’t want that to come at a cost that left Cooper feeling less than. They needed to be on the same level, even when one was figuratively above the other. It was their joint responsibility to look out for each other.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, the realization dawning.
Grant walked back into the dining room, dropping a plate of microwaved nachos on the table between them. The cheese bubbled and popped, and Grant set a jar of salsa down beside them.
“What?” he asked.
“It’s just that you’re right.” Adam grabbed a chip and shoved it into his mouth, the loud crunch drowning out his thoughts. “I hate it when you’re right.”
“Seems to be a trend.” Grant untangled a particularly cheesy chip from the rest on the plate. “Is this the part where you go home to talk with your boyfriend?”
Adam scrunched his nose. “I know we’re together, but I’ve never thought of him as my boyfriend.”
“Really? How do you introduce him to people?”
“I don’t introduce him to anyone,” he said. “It’s not like we’re out making new friends or anything.”
“Speaking of friends.” Grant chewed a chip and swallowed, chasing it back with a drink of his bubbly water. “Devon asked about you.”
“Oh?”
“He’s noticed you’ve both been missing from his parties,” Grant said.
“I didn’t know attendance was mandatory.”
“He’s a friend,” Grant reminded. “He’s a good friend. He’s our friend. You spend time with your friends.”
“Is Robin a friend?” Adam asked.
Grant pursed his lips, shooting a sharp glare across the table. “Don’t deflect.”
“You two have been circling around each other for years,” he said. “There has to be something there, and I want to talk about you instead of me for a while. I know what I have to do with Cooper.”
Adam committed himself to opening communication with Cooper. He knew Cooper well enough to be able to tell if he was lying or being honest, so he would sit him down for a frank conversation about the perceived imbalance in their relationship. Adam knew he would have to take Cooper at his word if he promised things were good as is, but he would have to make sure he opened with letting Cooper know that even while he fought it sometimes, he did enjoy submitting.
It was different for him than being dominant, and if he was being honest, he found switching left him more fulfilled than pigeonholing himself into a singular role. He wanted to thank Cooper for that, because Cooper had given him the tools to truly be all in.
“Robin and I are friends,” Grant said, “That’s all we’ll ever be. That’s all we want to be.”
“A decade, though?” Adam found it hard to believe the two of them hadn’t developed feelings for each other over all the time they’d spent around and inside of each other.
“Robin is aromantic and I’m not.” Grant shrugged. “There’s things we have in common, and we enjoy each other…often and well. But there are things I want in a partner that he doesn’t, and we’re fine with that.”
“Oh.” Adam leaned back. “I didn’t know.”
