Noah didn’t argue. Instead, he let the matter drop and sank deeper into his lover's arms. It wasn’t long before Aspen’s breath turned soft and steady against his neck, and when Charlie began to snore, Noah’s brain finally quieted enough for him to drift off to sleep.
Surprisingly, he was the first to wake up, and since neither of the other two seemed close to waking, he went downstairs to make a pot of coffee. He’d never spent the night here, but on evenings when he’d stayed a little too late, he’d watched Charlie make coffee and figured it couldn’t be too terribly difficult.
After fighting with the filters, googling how much coffee to use, and then not adding enough water, Noah ended up with a semi-drinkable brew. Thankfully, Charlie had sugar cookie creamer in the fridge, which went a long way toward rectifyingit. He pulled out his laptop and began going through his spreadsheet of donations and adoptions from the day before.
He hadn’t checked the clock, but he estimated it was around an hour later when he heard heavy footfalls followed by softer, faster footsteps coming down the stairs. Unsure what to expect from Aspen in someone else’s home, he braced himself, and it was lucky he did, or Aspen may have knocked him out of his chair when they eagerly scrambled into his lap.
“Good morning,” Aspen said, kissing him on the cheek before nuzzling their noses together.
“Good morning,” Noah said, picking up his coffee mug and offering it to Aspen. “It’s not very warm, and I didn’t put a huge amount in, but there’s sugar cookie creamer in here.”
Aspen took a tentative sip and bobbed their head back and forth. “It’s not terrible.”
“It’s not great either, but that’s probably my fault.”
Charlie walked up behind them and gripped the back of Noah’s neck, squeezing once, before turning to head into the kitchen.
“It can be finicky. I’ll turn this batch into ice cubes for frappes, and make a fresh pot.”
“You can make frappes? Can I have a sugar cookie frappe?” Aspen squealed, struggling off of Noah’s lap and hurrying into the kitchen as if the offer was time-limited.
“Of course, pumpkin. Let me show you how I do it so you can make your own if you wake up before us next time.”
Next time. The words settled in Noah’s stomach, warming the coffee already in there and giving him the energy the coffee had failed to. He pulled up a new spreadsheet and began plotting what the next twelve months could look like for the shelter, and by the time Aspen and Charlie sat back down, with fresh coffees, a frappe, and bagels, Noah was ready.
“I think the fundraiser is enough to tide you over through the new fiscal year, and a little bit into the following, but it’s still not sustainable.”
Charlie immediately turned on his business mode, and Aspen listened intently for a few minutes before their attention began to wander. They alternated between sitting in Noah’s lap and tentatively perching on Charlie’s knees. When Charlie finished his bagel, he looped a wide arm around Aspen’s waist and held them securely in his lap while he and Noah went over the various loans Charlie had been considering.
“I might have a lead for some future events and marketing,” Aspen offered, telling them about the woman he’d spoken to at the end of the fundraiser.
“I think that’s probably part of the overall solution,” Noah said, sitting back in his seat to stretch his arms over his head. He didn’t miss the two sets of eyes tracking the way the overly large shirt rode up his thighs. “Would you mind following up on that lead, Asp, and Charlie and I can sit down with the loan applications later this week?”
“Can I come?” Aspen asked, shifting on Charlie’s lap to look up at him before turning back to Noah. “I don’t want to impose on your dog walking dates, but maybe I could come over and hang out while you do shelter work?”
Charlie rubbed his bearded cheek against the short hairs of Aspen’s undercut. Funny, that was something Noah loved doing as well, even though he kept his face clean-shaven because his beard had never fully grown in.
“You’re welcome to come when Noah walks dogs with me. You could hang out here, and we’ll join you afterwards?”
Aspen’s brow creased, but their eyes were hopeful as they gazed at Noah. “Would that be okay? No pressure, though.”
Noah squeezed Aspen’s bare knee. “That sounds perfect.”
“We could also go somewhere else. Like, on a date,” Charlie said, hugging Aspen tighter to his chest as he peered over at Noah.
“It would be nice to figure out a few more next steps first,” Noah said, glancing at the metaphorical cliff on his spreadsheet, indicating the shelter was only on track to survive through August.
It felt like a ticking time bomb, hanging over Noah’s head, just like the end of his trial with Aspen and the upcoming wedding. Yes, the timeline had been extended for the shelter, but there was still no guarantee they could get Charlie the kind of support he needed to keep it running. Now there was at least their…whatever this was, friendship, relationship, arrangement, what have you. Maybe that would be enough to keep Charlie here if he ended up selling the shelter, but Noah wasn’t willing to bet on that.
“Okay, so, figure out more boring business-y things, but with lots of cuddles and kisses, and also a date?” Aspen asked, reaching across the table to grab Noah’s arm and shake it excitedly back and forth.
Charlie didn’t seem to hear the ticking clock the way Noah did. He smiled easily at Aspen and kissed their cheek. “Where do we want to go?”
Dinner was the obvious choice, and even though it could have been difficult to find a place all three of them could agree on, it was surprisingly easy. Leon, James, Noah, and Aspen had gotten lunch the weekend after New Year’s, and Noah and James had decided to compile a list of restaurants that Leon and Aspen–mostly Aspen–were interested in going to. Most of the list was based on aesthetic reels Aspen flooded their group chat with, or a single menu item that Leon was interested in. He didn’t seem to be quite as impulsive as Aspen was, but hisattention span was very similar, keeping their group chat lively, if not a bit chaotic.
Noah glanced one more time at the red line on the finance spreadsheet before minimizing the tab and pulling up his list of restaurants. He sorted for restaurants that were closer to Charlie’s place.
“This one is only fifteen minutes from here, so–”
