“You had a what?”

“A date with both of them!”

Lyril ground the beans in angry silence.

Radames continued, “Well, not a date, per se, neither of us mentioned the word ‘date’, but it had the ambiance. And they argued about superpowers. That could count.”

“And then what? Diego pulled out a picture of a secret lover?”

Radames looked uncomfortable. “No, Amir punched him in the face.”

Lyril stopped what he was doing and stared at his brother. “He did what?”

“He punched Diego in the face.”

“Say that again?”

“He punched-- you don’t need to look so happy about it!” Radames got heated. “And he’s fine, thanks for asking!”

Lyril did nothing to hide his grin. “So he finally did what we’ve all been thinking about for years. Why’d he do it?”

“It was my fault really, I brought up the last time Diego went away, and he started telling me I should’ve gone too, it turned into a thing… well, you remember what happened back then.”

Lyril nodded. “So he got punched, rightfully so. What next?”

Radames’s silence was unexpected. At first he thought maybe his brother was busy with something, but when he looked back up, he was just sitting and staring into the air.

“Mes?”

“Ah?”

“What happens now?”

“I can get them to talk, I’m sure, and... it might just work.”

“What? Your Big Plan?”

“You don’t have to make it sound so nefarious!”

Lyril rolled his eyes. “Look, I respect that you’re trying to set things up like that, but you really have to check if they’re okay with it. Being polyamorous is not…”

“Not what?” Radames bristled.

“...Not something people usually tell,” said Lyril quickly. “And there are also a lot of people who are adamantly against it.”

“Yeah, I know, that’s why I want to get them to talk properly to each other, then I’ll bring that up! I want to see if they can get along at least.”

Lyril took a pause and asked, “Are you sure it’s what you want? You haven’t known Amir that long, and Diego is… well, you know, all jokes aside, fickle and unreliable. You can do better.”

Radames shook his head, “No, it feels right. It just… feels like it should be like this, with them. I know I don’t usually talk like that, I know that I’ve been really easily infatuated before, but Ly, this feels… different. I just… know. Need to polish up the sharp edges, and set my plan in motion.”

*

The Plan, whatever it would have been, would have to wait. When Radames woke up a few days later and found he couldn’t get out of bed if he wanted to stay conscious, the first thing he did was panic. He called Lyril, voice hoarse and fallen, and cried for half an hour about how many cakes, muffins, croissants, cookies, coffees, teas, chocolates and so on he had to make that day.

“You don’t make that many things even in perfect health, Mes,” Lyril sounded distracted.

“Is Raphael there? Your poor brother is dying, and you’re flirting??”

“You’re not dying and I’m not flirting. I’m opening up." There was a rattle of keys. "Calm down.”

“How can I calm down? I have a fever! I have a fever, and I’m dying, and I haven’t written a will yet, and you’ll mess up all the orders--”

“How many orders have you known me to mess up? As I recall, we’ve been working here the same length of time, Mes. And you're not dying.”

“--And you’ll kick Diego out if he comes by!”

Pause.

“That… maybe.”

Radames sniffed loudly.

“Look, if he shows up here with his tail between his legs looking adequately sorry for ruining your night I might be inclined to let him stay and give him a decent cup of tea not made with dishwater.”

Radames pouted into the phone and mumbled, “Thanks for upholding our good business model even to customers you hate.”

“So Diego’s a customer now?”

“If he gives you money he’s a customer!”

“I guess that rules out Veronica being one, unless sheer cheek is ever declared a form of currency.”

“Duh, of course she’s not a customer, don’t be silly. Oh, and that reminds me, don't--”

“Mes,” Lyril sounded patiently annoyed. “I’ll handle everything. Just rest, alright?”

Radames wailed a little more for good measure and said, “Right ‘kay…”

*

The next thing Radames knew, he was being woken up by footsteps in his apartment. Thinking it would be just his luck to get robbed when he could barely keep his eyes open, he tried to sit up.

“You’re awake! Let me help you.”

“Diego?”

Maybe this was some feverish hallucination, he thought. Diego, here? Sure, he knew the address, but it wasn’t like Lyril to forget to lock up, and how had Diego even known he was sick, and--

As he allowed himself to be propped up on some pillows, Diego was already explaining: “I went to the cafe to find you and Amir to say sorry for the other day, and Lyril told me you were so sick, so I asked if I could come see you…” A pause. “I don’t think he liked me asking that, but he gave me his spare key. I texted you so I wouldn’t catch you by surprise but I guess you’ve been asleep all morning? Is there anything you need? I’ve brought you some medicine I always carry, you know how it is in the wild, you have to be prepared--”

“Diego,” Radames croaked again and tried to focus his eyes. “You’re really here?”

A pause, as Diego came to crouch somewhat awkwardly next to the bed, putting a hand to Radames’ forehead. “Well, yes.”

Radames reached for his arm. “You’re really here!”

“I am!” Diego made a valiant attempt to echo the enthusiasm.

“And here I am still in bed…” Radames’ face fell abruptly. “I’m not being a very good host!”

“Mes, you’re sick!”

“I want to sit on the sofa so I can be hostly! And see you properly!”

“Mes--”

Radames wailed. “I can lay down on the sofa if you insist but I’m not staying in bed!”

Diego mumbled something about stubborn brothers and the detrimental effects of overdoing it while sick, but a few moments later he found himself agreeing under the condition that Radames would not get up once properly transported.

It was a bit hard to get there as Radames couldn’t look up or even really stand straight and they ended up knocking a few books and things down on their quest, but-

“Radames! Are you-- oh.”

It was Amir, staring now as Diego was halfway through helping Radames to the sofa, sidestepping some fallen books.

“Amir,” Radames croaked, trying to smile. None of them had heard him enter.

“Ah-- the door was open, and I heard noise, I got worried… I’m sorry, I…” he tried to hide the bag of groceries behind his back. “You already have someone to take care of-- not that I thought I was in a position, I just, um--” he shuffled backwards. “I’ll go!”

“No!” Radames managed, and his head pulsed. “No, you don’t have to… I’m so glad you’ve come too! Now my two favorite people are here!” A cough. “Brothers go in a different category, of course.” And Lyril had been temporarily demoted after his open delight about Diego being punched, but Radames decided not to bring that topic up just now. Besides, his brother had already gained a few points back for giving Diego a key, however unwillingly.

Amir laughed very nervously, and, perhaps to diffuse the awkwardness, Diego said obligingly:

“Let me help you with that. Is it for the fridge?”

“Oh! Um… no, I mean… it’s…” he continued to stammer as Diego gently took the bag from him and looked inside.

Diego whooped quietly. “Did you want to cook this?”

Amir turned bright red. “Yeah, it’s… I guess… it’s something mom would make me when I was sick. A type of chicken soup. I thought…” he glanced at Radames, “I thought it might help.”

As they bustled around the kitchen talking about how to best cook it (Diego mainly asking questions), Radames dimly thought that perhaps he should be throwing them both out.  He should have probably been angry. Maybe he was, somewhere else in his mind, in a place currently covered in snot and clouded by fever.

All he really felt at the moment was warm and fuzzy gratitude.

“This looks amazing, Amir! I wish I had your cooking skills with me while out in the wild!”

“Huh.”

He’d yell at them later. Maybe.

*

About an hour later, Radames had been propped up on some more pillows, had taken some cold medicine at last and was cheerily eating the best soup he had ever tasted. Considering that Diego had managed to fit in a minimum of a compliment per minute between mouthfuls, Radames was fairly sure he wasn’t the only one who thought so. And considering that Amir didn’t look like he wanted to spill his own over Diego’s head… he wondered if maybe now was the time for his Plan. He had wanted to do it differently, hopefully somewhere romantic, and with a longer explanation, maybe after a few individual dates and time for them to get to know each other more, but better too early than too late, he decided.

Radames cleared his throat, which resulted in a minute of coughing as Diego rushed to pat him on the back and Amir rushed to the kitchen to get him water.

A bad start already, but he trudged on.

“I wanted to talk to you two about something. It’s, uh,” he blew his nose for good measure, “kind of a big deal, but please don’t get mad. If you hate it, you can just… leave. No hard feelings.”

They looked at him, clearly worried.

Radames blew his nose again and pulled a pillow onto his lap.

“It’s… uh. I really like you, both of you. Like, a lot. And I feel like… you… I thought… if you’re both, you know, okay with it… I was gonna suggest that I dated both of you. If that’s okay.”

There was a pause which stretched into a silence. Radames blew his nose a few more times and sat there stewing in his nerves.

“You’re sure?” Amir said finally.

“That’s… that’s what I was hoping for.”

To his great surprise (and delight), Diego asked, “Not… not all three of us together? That’s what I thought you had in mind, that night… before I, ah… put my foot in my mouth.” He shot an apologetic look in Amir’s direction.

“Um.” Radames looked over at him too. Amir seemed deep in thought. “Well… that is, I noticed you liked Amir too, but I was worried you hated Diego, so I--”

“I don’t hate him.” Amir sounded offended. “I like him.”

It was Diego who exclaimed, rather happily, “Really?”

“Yeah.” Amir looked embarrassed now. “Well, I punched him ‘cos I was drunk, jealous, and mad. I thought I had a shot with Radames, so of course I didn’t like an ex turning up, but. Diego’s charming, so I had expected more of him. And I got mad at how he acted. ” He was crimson red now. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think it was allowed. To like you both. Besides,” he looked at Diego, annoyance rising again. Radames would have tried to get up, ready to diffuse things, but he didn’t seem ready to start throwing punches or soup bowls this time. That, and if he got up he probably wouldn’t remain standing for very long. “I still think you haven’t treated Radames well.”

“I agree with you,” Diego looked at his hands. “Not that it excuses it, but I never wanted to be away from you, Mes.” He added with a weak laugh: “Adventures were always a lot more fun with you along.”

“It was pretty miserable being stuck here not knowing when you were coming back.” Radames mumbled into his soup.

“I’m so sorry, Mes. There are reasons I handled it like that - mostly I was very, very afraid, and I still am, but I’m not going to let myself act on that again.”

“You’ve acted on it for years in a row now,” Radames mumbled before he could stop himself. “Sorry, I just…”

“No, you’re right. You can call me out. And I need you to know I will work on it. Not,” he started, seeing Radames about to speak again, “not just because Amir is here, not because I didn’t want to make the effort if it was you. It was just… it didn’t register that I was hurting you. Frankly, I really thought I was a footnote for you, not much more. Lyril was rude but Lyril’s almost always rude and I thought he was being protective, and you never told me anything. Until Amir laid me out on the floor like that I had no idea I had that much consequence in your life. I think I probably didn’t want to see it. It was easier to think it was just me I was hurting.”

“That’s because you’re a stupid, selfish idiot,” Radames croaked through a bundle of tissues.

“Yeah.”

There was a pause, then Amir asked, “So um. Do we try to… you know? Date? All of us?”

"You'd both want to? Want me? And each other?" Radames looked around at them.

“I’m willing to try,” Diego smiled.

Amir nodded. “Me too.”

Radames burst into tears.

“Wh--”

“Mes?”

“I’m just so glad!” Radames sobbed and hid his face in the pillow he’d had on his lap. He heard Diego’s gentle laugh. Next thing he knew, he felt the seat shift under a weight next to him. He peeked out.

“You’ll get sick if you stay close to me.”

“Then let us be sick together!” Diego announced. “Solidarity!”

Amir shook his head, looking fond, and said, “I’ll clear out the dishes. Mes, crying might make you feel worse.”

Radames’s heart jolted. “You called me Mes!”

Amir turned pink. “Yes, and? That’s what boyfriends do, isn’t it?”

Diego nuzzled Radames’s face as he beamed. “Does that mean I can call you Mir?”

“Don’t push it.”

“How about Flower?”

“Wha-?! Where did you pull that fr--”

“From Aster. Your online handle.” Diego looked rather pleased with himself.

“You read that.”

“Of course I did! You were so bright when you mentioned it, I had to check.”

The redness on Amir’s face deepened.

*

He would have had to have been very pressed to admit it, but Lyril didn’t enjoy days in the café without his brother. Veronica had stopped by during her morning break, but the following brief appearances of Diego and Amir (before they had each wheedled keys out of him) had been followed by several hours of uncharacteristic quiet. Raphael had apparently been busy today.

After wiping down the last countertop, he took a cursory look around to see if Daelan was still around. Deciding that he must have left already (without saying goodbye, strangely enough), he reached into his pocket for his keys, had a brief panic when he couldn’t find his house key or the spare, then remembered the sacrifices he had made.

With a sigh, he headed to the door to lock up the front entrance. He had to wonder what had become of Diego and Amir’s visits to Radames. Maybe they had run into each other there and got into an argument.

Maybe they were still in an argument.

Maybe even a fistfight.

Poor Radames.

And poor me. “I sure hope I can get back home.”

“Wait!” It was Daelan, still very much inside, running towards the front door.

“Sorry,” Lyril unlocked again and Daelan ducked through. “I thought you’d left.”

“I’d never leave without saying so, boss.”

“Right, sorry. Where to?”

As they made their way down the street, a figure watched from the other side, blue eyes wide and unnerving.