Alex has always been in love with George. It’s obvious to everyone—the way he talks about him, the way he always makes sure George eats, how he lights up whenever George walks into the room. They're roommates, best friends, often mistaken for husbands, and Alex never corrects them.
But to George, Alex is just—Alex. Sweet, thoughtful, endlessly caring. His best friend.
George doesn’t see the love in Alex’s eyes. And Alex is too scared to risk their friendship by telling him.

Alex POV

It’s 2:37 AM when George stumbles into the apartment, smelling like whiskey and someone else’s cologne.

Alex is already up, pretending he wasn’t waiting. He’s curled on the couch with a blanket thrown over his legs, TV playing something he hasn’t really been watching.

"Hey, Lex," George slurs, grinning wide like he hasn’t just walked in hours later than he promised. Like he hasn’t broken Alex a little more every time he comes home smelling like someone else.

"Hey, Georgie," Alex says softly, getting up without thinking. He’s already grabbing a glass of water, already setting out the aspirin, already tugging the blanket around George’s shoulders. Muscle memory. Heart memory. Love he never dares name.