the love triangle trope, but it's actually a triangle

beeee who you aree...

andrew, zubin and rob locked themselves up in their respective rooms for the night. even if they were all in different places, their worries seemed to be very similar.

andrew sighed and walked around his room before he sat down at his desk. he had so much emotion brewing in him, so many feelings. he wanted to feel them to their fullest extent, he wanted to express them, he wanted to express them to rob.

he couldn't do that though. it'd be weird. that would be weird for him to acknowledge that he's feeling so many new feelings about his friend rob right?

he does it anyway, he always does. he picks up his favorite pencil and grabs a sheet of paper and begins to write lines and lines of words. andrew loved to write when he felt this influx of emotion, romantic or not. he would never admit this is one of those romantic writing sessions, to himself or otherwise.

and by the end of it, he had another love poem, filled with scratched out words and meaningless scribbles, lines that indicated something sounded better over here or potential words to use on the side, and despite all it contained the only thing that andrew could think of when he saw it was rob.

he stared at the paper in his hand. if anyone saw this, they might tease him for being lovesick for a few seconds before moving on to someone else. they would think its just another girl. but to him, this paper meant a release that he didn't know he needed to experience. a feeling he didn't know he could experience about another man.

he thought about how he teased zubin for it earlier, as if it was the worst thing you could ever do. how hypocritical.

but he wasn't gay, andrew wasn't gay. he knew what he liked and... he liked rob. but that doesn't mean he's gay, he rationalizes.

zubin,,, is pretty sure he's some kind of gay.

he laid in his bed. his mind raced with the encounter at the couch the forefront of his exhausted mind. he thought about how close andrew was, holding his face.

his face burned, and he relished in the memory of their time together. he really loved him, he thought. he was really in love with his friend. his friend who was teasing him for saying he even somewhat liked the other.

zubin laid on his side, hugging a pillow close to his chest. he consciously tried not to imagine it as andrew. but he failed miserably. he couldn't help himself imagining andrew in his arms, holding him tightly. he smiled, burying his face in the pillow. he curled up around it.

part of him wished he took rob up on the offer to help cook. it would've given him more time with andrew. but more time with andrew always means more time to let these feelings slip. andrew could be dense sometimes, but zubin wanted this crush to remain a secret.

he sighed, wishing that the questions and doubts could leave his mind and that andrew was really in his arms.

all rob could do was think about the questions, though.

he sat on his bed. it looked like he was staring at the floor, but really his mind raced with thoughts.

whatcha cookin good-lookin? ...seriously?

did he... mean anything by that? rob thought. he hasn't said anything like that to him before. thinking about it again made his face flush all over again. he put his head in his hands and groaned. he fell way harder than he expected to.

zubin was so weird to him. rob passed it off as joke flirting. he did that to everyone, didn't he? was it even flirting..? and then andrew calling him gay... did zubin come out to andrew ? they were pretty close. but so was rob and zubin.

it frustrated rob to think about. he wished this could be just another girl, but instead it was one of his closest friends. he wasn't sure how these feelings manifested. he wished they would just go away.

rob stood up and started to pace around the room. he didn't even say the phrase right, it's what's cookin good-lookin? and not whatcha cookin. the added syllable makes it sound weirder, rob thought.

zubin called him good-lookin, though... rob smiled again at the memory, his face turning red.

he sat back down on his bed and layed back, feet dangling off the side. he finally decided not to fret anymore, and to let himself indulge in dreams where he could freely tell zubin how much he loved him.