Weeks passed, and Morgan started spending more and more time with Dave. Most nights, Liam would come home to find Morgan watching him play piano.
Eventually, it wasn't just watching.
Dave was sitting beside him, guiding his hands over the keys, their shoulders pressed together on the narrow bench.
Liam saw them like that one night when he came home from a date. Together. Smiling. Close.
The next night, it was the same.
That weekend, Liam gave dating another shot. Third date with a guy who barely texted him back. The kind of guy who made Liam nervous because he never replied, so Liam called. And texted. Maybe too much.
Okay, definitely too much.
But what was he supposed to do when someone didn't answer? Just pretend he didn't care?
The date ended like they always did: with a stiff hug and an unspoken 'please for the love of god don't call me again.'
He wasn't in the mood when he came home and saw Morgan playing piano. Only this time, Dave was watching him. Sitting close. His hand resting lightly on Morgan's back.
What was this?
Morgan hit a wrong note and glanced up, catching Liam in the doorway.
"Oh hey," he called, his face brightening. "How'd it go?"
"...Bad," Liam muttered, closing the front door a little too hard. He dropped his keys on the counter and bit the inside of his cheek.
Morgan frowned. "Jesus, what are you doing out there, dude?"
Dave chuckled and rolled his eyes.
Liam didn't respond. He walked straight into his room, pulled off everything but his boxers, and face-planted into his pillow.
What was he doing?
All these dates. All these guys. None of them worked out.
Was it really so wrong to like someone a lot? To text them? To want to know where things were going?
Liam had big feelings. He always had. Why was that a problem?
Why didn't anyone else want the kind of love he wanted?
He cried quietly into his pillow until he drifted to sleep.
Around one a.m., he woke up groggy and dehydrated. The glowing red numbers on his alarm clock glared at him. He scratched his head and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders before creeping into the dark hallway. The house was quiet.
He slipped into the kitchen and filled a glass of water, making sure the coast was clear before heading back to his room.
That's when he saw Morgan's bedroom door crack open.
"Hey, Liam," Morgan whispered, grinning. "You awake?"
Liam just gave him a sarcastic look, still holding his water and swaddled like a cryptid in his blanket.
Morgan grinned wider. "Come here."
Liam hesitated, but eventually padded over.
The second he reached the doorway, Morgan grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside, taking the water glass and setting it on the dresser before closing the door quietly behind him.
Then he stepped forward, pressing Liam back against the wood.
Liam's heart thudded in his chest. Morgan's sweatpants were soft against his legs. His cold hands slipped beneath the blanket and gripped Liam's bare hips.

YOU ARE READING
The House
RomanceRoommates, bad luck, and one hopeless romantic. ✨ Liam's love life is a mess-one disaster after another-and he's always been the awkward one in the group. But he's also been secretly in love with his best friend and roommate, Morgan, for as long as...