His stomach churned with anticipation—a warm, jittery feeling spreading through his chest. The comforter beneath him was crumpled under his weight as he sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at his hands. This day felt big—one way or another. By the end of it, Marley would have split himself open, laid himself bare. Vulnerable.
It wasn’t about whether Emrys returned his feelings; Marley already knew that Emrys did, in a way that wasn’t just platonic. The real issue was Marley proving to Emrys—and to himself—that he believed it. That he had come to terms with it. That he was ready to say it out loud. That’s what he’d be telling Emrys today. Nothing else mattered.
He rolled his wrist in his hand, flexing the joint, feeling the skin stretch. The thought of baring his heart like this made his chest tighten with a wave of uncertainty that he knew wasn’t necessary. He wasn’t afraid of rejection. Not anymore. Emrys had all but told him how he felt—through the gentle way he looked out for him, in the touches that lingered a second too long, in the way he acted.
Marley knew.
He ran a shaky hand through tangled hair, tugging at the ends when his fingers caught, and staring out the bedroom window. Lazily, almost, the cloud drifted across the sky. A confidence in their movement that Marley didn’t share. It wouldn’t take much to mess this up—to say the wrong thing or fumble his words. And even though Emrys clearly felt something for him, what if he didn’t want to take things further?
…
…Could that be why Emrys hadn’t confessed himself?
Marley wasn’t sure how to be anything other than what he was—mechanical in his routine, shutting down at the first sign of conflict, never changing. He could hear Emrys moving around the living room down the hall, his voice soft as he hummed a tune under his breath. It sounded like that song that was always on the radio. Far too normal for what Marley was about to do. Just an ordinary morning, as if nothing monumental was hanging in the air.
Taking a deep breath, Marley pushed himself off the bed, his legs shaky but moving anyway. Each step down the hall felt heavier than the last, dread weighing on his shoulders.
He could do this.
He just had to be honest. He just had to be vulnerable.
When he reached the archway into the living room, he paused, leaning against the frame to watch Emrys. He was swaying slightly, humming to himself as he poured a cup of tea, completely unaware of the turmoil churning inside Marley. A small smile tugged at Marley’s lips.
Maybe things would be okay after all.
“Hey,” he spoke softly, his voice quieter than intended. Emrys turned, mid-hum, stopping with a stutter as he leaned a hip against the island counter, and smiled at him.
“Hey,” Emrys responded, setting the mug and kettle down. “What’s up? You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”
Of course, Emrys saw right through him. He always did.
“You’re not wrong.” Marley laughed, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Can we talk?”
Emrys raised an eyebrow and shifted his stance, his expression softening as he gave Marley his full attention. “Yeah, of course,” he agreed easily. “What’s going on?”
Marley’s heart raced against his collarbone. This was it—probably. A tight knot formed in his chest, rising with each swallow, tugging at his throat.
The words were there. Just… a bit out of reach.
How was he supposed to phrase this?
“I’ve… been thinking,” he began, leaning a little heavier against the archway, shifting on his feet. “About what’s been going on with us.”
“Yeah?” Emrys’ voice was encouraging, patient.
“Yeah,” Marley swallowed hard and pushed forward. “About what we are—or, well, what we aren’t.”
Emrys’ face flickered with confusion, and Marley watched his expression carefully. “What we aren’t?”
He winced. Okay, that didn’t come out right. Shit.
“I mean… what we could be,” he corrected, running a hand through his hair. Should I have brushed it? “Ugh, I just… I know you like me. I know how you feel about me. I think.”
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He bit his lip, feeling the weight of his own hesitation. “I feel the same. I like you, Emrys,” he finally spat out, the words more confident than anything else he’d managed so far, but… still shaky.
Emrys blinked, his expression softening again—more than before—as he nodded slowly. “I figured as much. Hoped so,” he admitted with a soft, almost relieved smile. “What, uh, sparked the confidence? Why now?”
Why now?
That wasn’t a question Marley had prepared for. His stomach twisted, and he suddenly felt exposed.
“You know me,” he said, hesitating. “I overthink things. I’ve been overthinking this, holding myself back. But I… I felt like I needed to tell you. I owed you that.”
Emrys’ expression shifted, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. “So… you’ve been thinking a lot?” he asked after a moment, sounding cautious.
He nodded quickly. “Yeah, I have. I just didn’t want to keep pretending—pretending everything was the same when it… really hasn’t been.”
“Pretending?” Emrys’ brow furrowed as he frowned slightly. “Marls, I thought I’d been perfectly honest about how I felt. I haven’t been pretending anything.”
A flush of frustration rose in Marley’s chest. “I know that!” he snapped, then immediately regretted it. His voice softened as he added, “But you didn’t say anything about it either, so it… felt like it to me.”
He didn’t like this. He– He wasn’t expecting Emrys to interrogate him!-- not, not that he was but– but—
Once again, Emrys’ expression softened, though confusion still lingered in his eyes. He stepped closer, pushing off the counter, his voice gentle, almost soft. "I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think I had to! Or, well, I just... I thought we were on the same page?" His words came out more like a question, and if Marley hadn’t been so wound up with nerves, the shared confusion might have been comforting.
"I kind of thought it was obvious. You’re usually pretty straightforward about what you want—or, at least, I thought you were—and I figured if you liked me back, which I wasn’t 100% sure of, you’d just, I don’t know... handle it?”
Marley’s jaw dropped as he stared at him. "Well—" he huffed, pushing off the archway to wrap his arms around himself in a self-soothing hold. "It wasn’t obvious! And—you—didn’t you say I shouldn’t be the one handling everything? If you—"
He wanted to hide. He shouldn’t have done this.
"If you liked me, you should’ve said something—because here I was, overthinking literally every word I’ve said and every move I’ve made, trying not to mess things up. And—and—harping on myself not to change things when you could’ve just—"
Emrys blinked, his expression shifting, and Marley dutifully avoided his gaze, even as those eyes seemed to see right through him. He let out a breath and stepped even closer, until he was only a few feet away.
“I– shit– I didn’t realise it was like that for you, Marls… I didn’t know–”
Marley cut him off, his shoulders tensing as he huffed out his frustration. “You acted like nothing was happening, like we were still just friends, even if you looked at me like–” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “You acted like none of it mattered. Like our feelings were just… I don’t know, a passing thing?”
He swallowed hard, resting his head against the wall. “I didn’t want to make things weird if I was wrong– or if you liked me but didn’t– didn’t want anything with me.”
When Marley looked up, Emrys was frowning, his face tight with tension. He raised a hand toward Marley but didn’t move it further, letting it fall back to his side. “I–” he exhaled a frustrated breath. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel like that– I was– fucking hell– It does matter to me, Marley. So much. You matter to me. I just… I wanted to give you the choice. I didn’t realise that doing that would put all the pressure on you.”
He said it so sincerely that Marley almost forgave him instantly. He had always been weak for Emrys, anyway.
Marley shifted his weight, his gaze darting away. “It sure as hell didn’t feel that way, Em. I’ve spent so much time– exhausting myself– overthinking and second-guessing everything because I had no idea where we stood.”
He clenched his eyes shut, admitting, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt farther from you.”
For a moment, the only sounds between them were the faint ticking of the kitchen clock and the living room radio, which Marley had only just realised was on, buzzing faintly in the background. Finally, Emrys stepped forward, his fingers brushing against Marley’s arm. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice tender but firm.
Marley blinked up at him.
He wasn’t prepared for the earnest expression that met his gaze. Gods—Emrys was good at those. Making him feel all gooey and longing when he was supposed to be frustrated. Angry.
“I really thought we were on the same page, and I should’ve asked you sooner. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that—like you were the only one in this.” Emrys said, his frown deepening.
Marley’s chest tightened again, but not in an unpleasant way. He glanced down at Emrys’ hand, still resting lightly against his arm, and sighed as the tension in his body began to ease. “I guess we both fluffed up, huh?”
Emrys laughed at the phrasing and smiled at him, moving so he was right in front of Marley. “We can fix it now, though, yeah? We’re talking about it.”
Marley nodded, smiling back, his heart racing in a different way now. “The first step in any relationship, for sure.”
His tone was light, joking, but Emrys’ smile glowed at the affirmation. Even if they really hadn’t ‘confirmed’ anything yet.
It was quiet in the living space—well, quiet, aside from the clock and radio—but it wasn’t bad. Not with Emrys smiling down at him, watching him with careful eyes that never, ever, felt pitying.
“I guess… I just don’t want things to change,” Marley admitted after a moment.
“Change how?” Emrys asked, his voice low.
“I mean… between us. I like the way we are, but... I also want more. And I don’t want to ruin that.”
Emrys met his gaze, his expression soft and reassuring. “We won’t. We don’t have to rush anything. We already did the first step—so…”