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Ishir drove home deep in thought, sitting in his car for a while after he parked, gearing himself up for the conversation ahead.
He couldn’t get over Zee just like that, but he could take steps to mend what had broken between them.
“Hey,” he greeted, taking his shoes and coat off and flopping next to Zee on the couch.
“Hey. How’s Olive and Levy?” Zee asked.
“Good. Sorry I didn’t invite you. I was just…”
“I get it,” Zee replied simply.
Ishir sighed. “Still. I know I’ve been distant lately. Thanks for giving me some space.”
“Yeah, no. Of course.”
“You know I’m not angry, right? I still want to be friends.”
“That’s all I want,” Zee hurried to say.
Ishir couldn’t help but flinch a little at that.
Zee must have read the hurt on his face. “No, what I mean is—all I want is to not lose you.”
Ishir smiled softly. “Yeah. Me too. I’m sorry if I made it seem like this was all your fault. It wasn’t.”
“Yeah, well, I definitely played a big part in it. I knew I was asking too much of you. I just…it was like I couldn’t help myself, you know? Not that it’s an excuse.”
Honestly, Ishir didn’t want to rehash everything. “How about we call a truce?”
“Okay. That sounds good. You wanna watch something? I’ll order dinner.”
“Yeah, let’s do that.”
They sat on the couch, a few palmfuls of space away—not as close as they had once been, but it was better than nothing.
**********
Ishir and Zee began having breakfast together again.
It wasn’t the only thing that got better after their talk, but it was what stuck with Ishir the most. He shuffled out of his room, and there Zee was, shirtless and making breakfast like those first months of living together.
He was as handsome as always, miles of dark skin on display, the muscles of his back moving underneath, biceps bulging obscenely as he handled the pan in his hand. Even in basketball shorts, his ass looked insane, round and firm, a constant temptation.
As beautiful as Zee was, it was the easy banter during their mornings that actually made Ishir feel his love for his best friend keenly.
“I fuckingkilledthe eggs this time. I keep thinking I can’t get better, and I keep surprising myself,” Zee boasted.
“Yeah, okay, dude. I’ll be the judge of that.”
Zee slid a plate his way, staring expectantly as Ishir took a bite.
“Fuck, okay. That’s good.”
Zee fist-bumped dramatically. “I’m gonna make them for your dad when we’re back home—he’s gonna fucking shit himself.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure a person spontaneously shitting themselves is a sign of good food.”
Zee stuck his tongue out, throwing himself on the stool beside Ishir and tucking into his own breakfast. “Oh, yeah. That’s the shit.”
