The rooftop garden was nothing like what Remi had expected when Ash and Theodore told him to dress nice and be ready by eight. String lights wound through potted trees and flowering bushes, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. A small table sat in the center, set with actual china and flickering candles, while soft jazz played from a hidden speaker.

"You two did all this?" Remi asked, spinning slowly to take it all in.

Theodore was adjusting one of the lights, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. "Ash handled the food. I just knew a guy who owed me a favor."

"It's beautiful," Remi breathed, and meant it. The city sprawled out below them, twinkling like scattered diamonds, but the rooftop felt intimate and private, like their own little world suspended above everything else.

Ash emerged from what must have been a small kitchen area, carrying a tray that smelled incredible. "I may have gone a little overboard," he admitted, setting down plates of what looked like restaurant-quality pasta.

"A little?" Theodore laughed. "He's been cooking since three this afternoon."

"I wanted it to be perfect," Ash said quietly, his eyes finding Remi's.

And it was. The food was exceptional, the wine was smooth, and the conversation flowed easily between them. Theodore told stories that made them laugh until their sides hurt, Ash shared cooking tips that had Theodore hanging on every word, and Remi felt lighter than he had in months.

It was after they'd finished eating, when they were sprawled on the cushioned outdoor furniture with the last of the wine, that things shifted into something deeper.

"So," Theodore said, swirling his glass lazily, "I know Ash makes mouthwatering sandwiches and has the most expressive eyebrows known to man." He winked at Ash, who rolled his eyes. "But tell me more about you. The real stuff."

Ash was quiet for a moment, his fingers drumming against his thigh in that way he did when he was thinking. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," Theodore said simply. "I want to understand you."

Remi shifted on the loveseat he was sharing with Ash, tucking his feet under him. He'd heard some of this before, but not all of it, and never with this kind of focused attention from someone else who mattered.

"Well," Ash started slowly, "As you already know, I work as an architect in a big company. I like having control over my schedule." He paused, took a sip of wine. "I have a sister, Emma. She's the only family member who still talks to me."

Theodore's expression grew more serious. "The only one?"

Ash's jaw tightened slightly. "My parents weren't exactly thrilled when I came out. Neither were my brothers. Emma was the only one who..." He shrugged, but Remi could see the tension in his shoulders.

"Ash was really guarded when we first met," Remi said softly, his hand finding Ash's knee. "Like, really guarded. At first, I thought he hated me for the first month."

"I didn't hate you," Ash protested, but there was a sad smile tugging at his lips. "I was just... I had a lot of anger back then. Still do, sometimes."

Theodore leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "What kind of anger?"

Ash was quiet for a long time, staring down at his hands. When he spoke, his voice was rougher than usual. "The kind that comes from having your whole family decide you're not worth loving anymore. The kind that builds up when you're nineteen and suddenly you don't have a home to go back to for Christmas, or anyone to call when something good happens to you."

Remi's fingers tightened on Ash's knee, and Ash covered them with his own hand.

"I was angry at everyone," Ash continued. "At them for being narrow-minded assholes. At myself for not being able to just... pretend, I guess. At the world for making it so damn hard to just exist as who you are." He glanced at Remi. "I was angry at him too, at first. For making me want things I thought I couldn't have."

"What things?" Theodore asked quietly.

"Someone to come home to," Ash said without hesitation. "Someone who wouldn't leave when things got complicated. Someone who'd choose me even when it wasn't easy."

The silence that followed was comfortable rather than awkward, filled with understanding rather than judgment.

"Emma tried," Ash added after a moment. "She really did. She'd call and text and invite me to family things even when everyone else made it clear I wasn't welcome. But one person supporting you isn't enough when everyone else is telling you you're broken."

Theodore's hands were clenched in his lap, and Remi could see something working behind his eyes. "How long did it take? To stop feeling that way?"

Ash looked at Remi with such tenderness that it made Theodore's chest tight. "I'm still working on it. But this one makes it easier." He squeezed Remi's hand. "He's patient with my bad days. He doesn't take it personally when I get defensive about stupid things."

"Like when I tried to hold your hand in public the first time and you practically jumped out of your skin," Remi said with a small laugh.

"I thought people were staring," Ash admitted. "I thought they were judging us."

"Some probably were," Remi said gently. "But I didn't care. I wanted everyone to know you were mine."

Theodore felt something twist in his chest at the easy intimacy between them, the way they could acknowledge hard truths without losing the warmth in their voices.

"What about you?" Ash asked, turning to Theodore. "We've told you how we met, but we don't know much about you except that you're impossible to get rid of."

Theodore's laugh was a little hollow. "Persistent. I prefer persistent."

"And mysterious," Remi added. "You never really told us about your family I mean, you did tell us about your mom but like...your family and where you grew up."

Theodore's smile faded, and he leaned back in his chair, suddenly looking older than his years. "Not much mystery there. Just things I don't like talking about."

"Try," Ash said, and there was something in his tone that made it clear this was important to him. "We just told you things we don't usually share."