They meant to study. That was the plan. But the textbooks stayed mostly closed, and instead they sprawled across Donny's bedroom floor - Christopher with highlighters in his mouth, Benjamin curled into a pillow, and Donny playing soft jazz from a speaker.
"Why does history feel more real when we're lying down?" Benjamin asked.
Donny smiled. "Because lying down makes everything honest."
Christopher, half-asleep already, mumbled, "And makes it harder to pretend we're not falling for each other."
Benjamin's eyes fluttered open. The room stilled.
Donny turned off the speaker. "Are we falling?" he asked.
No one answered. But Benjamin sat up and reached for Christopher's cheek. His thumb ran along the curve beneath his eye - soft, slow, like blessing.
"I think we're floating," Benjamin whispered. "But together."
Christopher leaned forward, rested his forehead against Benjamin's.
Donny lay on his side, watching. Not outside it. Just… witnessing. Cherishing.
Later, when sleep hovered above them like a lullaby, Christopher's hand found Donny's. Benjamin whispered something none of them caught, but it didn't matter.
They had each other. And in the hush of half-lit rooms and forgotten homework, that was enough.