“I’m confident doing too much isn’t a worry for you two,” Noah said firmly. “I feel like there’s no better time to go all out than at the beginning of a relationship. Those sorts of gestures seem to fade as the years pass.”
“Have things between you and Aspen…faded?”
He was rather surprised it had taken James this long to ask about his relationship with Aspen. James and Leon hadn’t met Charlie yet, but he’d probably have questions about him, too. Instead of delving into it right now, when James was clearly deflecting, Noah kept his answer simple. “Oh, no. If anything, I think Aspen’s gestures of love get even more outlandish the longer you’re friends with them.”
“And…you guys arejustfriends?”
That did seem to be the million-dollar question. “We’re best friends, who have really amazing sex–oftentimes by ourselves, but also with some of our other friends as well.”
He thought about leaving it there, but he was pretty sure Aspen had shared more than that with Leon. James had given Noah so much of himself tonight—the least Noah could do was offer a little in return.
“We’re still figuring ourselves out. We’re both polyamorous and, for the moment at least, not in romantic relationships with each other or anyone else.” The next part seemed to spill from Noah’s lips, like the pink and white garland spilling out of the basket in front of him. “I don’t…know if I ever want a traditional romantic relationship.”
“Oh, are you aromantic?” James asked, pointedly not looking at Noah as he did so. He seemed to do that a lot, needing space and giving space when discussing tough subjects.
Unfortunately, this onewasrather tough.
Since the fundraiser, Noah had done some research on reciprosexuality and everything he’d found fit him like a glove. It felt like reading about gender dysphoria in his Sophomore Abnormal Psych class. The words that had always existed in his head seemed to appear on the page, and reading them felt like validation of everything he’d always known about his gender. The definition he found for reciprosexuality felt the same. It was a relief to have a name, something he could tuck into his pocket in case he needed to pull it out later.
While he’d been researching, he’d also done some reading on the aromantic spectrum.
Okay, maybe “reading” was being a bit generous. He’d clicked on an article titled “How to know if you’re feeling romantic or platonic love.” That seemed like a good place to start, except that the first section was titled “Can alloromantic and aromantic folks ever be happy together?”
He’d quickly closed the browser and decided maybe he didn’t need to read anymore. He already knew there was a difference between platonic and romantic love, because nothing he ever felt for his exes, or Charlie, or even Aspen, felt like it belonged on a greeting card. His feelings for them weren’t a tangle, or a mess, but they also weren’t what people sang songs about—at least none he’d ever heard. He’d watched Aspen go from love toin love to out of love with Ethan. He’d watched some of his exes find new partners, and he was watching James fret over being in love with Leon.
Noah’s love wasn’t like that. The love he had for Aspen and Charlie didn’t morph or change. There was no buildup to a final form or a sense of progression like he was approaching the end of a race. Once he formed a connection and the thread was forged, it was there to stay. Some shone brighter than others, but as he stood there in James’ room, surrounded by hearts and tinsel, he knew he would never be able to claim he’d “fallen in love” with Charlie or Aspen. He loved them, with his entire being, but it just didn’t seem the same as the romantic love everyone talked about.
“This actually isn’t the first aspec discussion I’ve had this year,” Noah admitted. “Which, in and of itself, seems like it might be a sign.”
“I know it’s a bit of a spectrum,” James said gently.
For some reason, it reminded Noah of how Rachel sometimes spoke to him…and was probably going to speak to him when he came to her with this new revelation.
“So, if you think you have a romantic, romantic-ish, or even romantic adjacent connection with Aspen or your other…” James paused for a second before rushing to say, “Uh, friends? Maybe you’re more like greyromantic.”
Romantic-ish? Greyromantic?
“Yet more vocabulary words for me to look up when I get home,” Noah mumbled, and James huffed a soft laugh.
Noah looked at the basket James had painstakingly assembled and found himself asking a different question than what he’d read online. Did the difference between platonic and romantic love even matter? Did he really need yet another flag he would never be able to explain to his parents?
Aspen was the one who liked flags. They liked to find ways to celebrate themself and those around them, stripping off the expectations and systems that tried to make them conform. Could this be the key Noah needed to unlock what came next after their trial relationship, or was it yet another box he would have to fit into?
There was something about the way James had said it, though, that made it seem…Gordy Simple.
Romantic-ish.
Noah understood and could make loving gestures, even if they were only an expression of the love he was capable of giving. He could also receive loving gestures. Aspen shared their love all the time, in the way they touched him, looked at him, and cared for him. It had shifted throughout the trial relationship, just like things were changing with Charlie. It was more than just adding sex to their friendship. There were more tender looks and gentle touches than before. It was as if their friendship—their relationship—was building and growing, adding in dates and cozy sleepovers.
Was that romantic-ish?
“Maybe it is something like that. Not entirely one thing or another but…somewhere in between,” Noah mused. “For example, I’m aware that Aspen is planning something for us tomorrow night, even though we said we wouldn’t do anything special for Valentine’s Day. Even if I am…whatever I am, I feel nothing but grateful for every moment and every gesture I get to exchange with them. Romantic or platonic, to me, love is all the same.”
“I think that’s all that really matters then,” James said, inadvertently answering Noah’s unspoken question. “That you’re happy, and they’re happy.”
“I’m very happy,” Noah said without hesitation.
But his mother wouldn’t be. What would she tell all her friends in book club? That Noah had a partner-ish? In fact, he had two, as well as a sexy bestest friend. How was she going to explain to her squash partners that her eldest had met his platonic matches, with whom he wanted to share a life, but also had no interest in claiming romantically?
