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“Of course it does. I am your mother, after all. Can you set the table?”

He did as asked. A carafe of orange juice already sat on the table, next to a bottle of syrup and a mostly empty container of peanut butter. He set down a plate for Dad and one for himself, with silverware for each. He was about to sit in his usual chair when Mom said, “Ah, aren’t you forgetting something? I’m here, too, sweetheart.”

He paused, looking down at the table. She was right. He’d barely been paying attention when he’d set the table. Why hadn’t he included her? That didn’t make any sense, and for a moment, something itched, deep and insistent. There were three of them, the way it should be. “Yeah,” he said. “Sorry.” He grabbed another plate and set of silverware, setting them on the table. Once done, he sat down.

“Your father and I were talking last night,” Mom said, scooping up the bacon and placing it on a plate covered in a paper towel.

“About what? The Owen thing? The Burke thing?” He still didn’t think protecting Burke was the right way to go about this, but he trusted his parents. They knew what was best.

Dad came to the table, carrying a mug filled with black coffee. He sat down in his usual chair across from Nick. The coffee spilled a little onto the table, and Nick tossed a napkin toward him. It was cloth. They didn’t use cloth napkins, at least not anymore. They’d stored them away in the attic after…

He paused, frowning. After what?

“Both,” Dad said, leaning back in his chair. “We’ll want to bring the others in on it, but we need to make a plan.” He glanced at Mom. “You want to tell him, or should I?”

Mom brought the bacon and French toast to the table. She kissed Dad on the forehead just as the doorbell rang. “I think that’s for you,” she told Nick. “Why don’t you go see who it is? We’ll talk when you come back.”

He jumped up from his chair, hurrying toward the front door, bare feet slapping against the floor. A little arc of electricity—snapping, cracking—bowled down his spine at the familiar figure standing on his porch.

“Hey, dude,” Nick said, flinging open the door. “I didn’t know you were coming—holyshit.”

Seth stood on the porch, wearing tan shorts and a black, short-sleeved collared shirt, complete with a red bow tie, his glasses slightly askew. “What?” he asked, looking down at himself as if trying to see what Nick was gaping at. “What’s wrong?”

“Howdareyou come over so early in the morning looking so fine,” Nick said. “Question. Can you be my breakfast? Fair warning: peanut butter might still be involved.” He was a foodie, after all.

Seth rolled his eyes fondly, cheeks darkening. But that didn’t stop him from crossing the threshold, gathering Nick up in his arms, and kissing him soundly. “Okay,” he said, pulling back. “You want to know how I know you haven’t brushed your teeth yet?”

Nick grimaced. “Let’s not and say we did. Not everyone can be as put together as you this early in the morning.” He stepped back as Seth closed the door. “I thought we were going to meet up later.”

“Your mom invited me over,” Seth said, hooking his pinkie finger around Nick’s. “Said she wanted to talk to us about something.”

Oh no. “If they pull out plastic baggies, we run. Deal?”

Seth nodded solemnly. “Deal.”

“Besides,” Nick said without thinking, “I already looked up dental dams online. They’re cheaper than I thought they’d be. And your aunt was right. They’re sold in bulk, so we won’t run out when—okay. I heard what I said. Um. So. Huh. Yikes? Did I say that? Yikes.”

“You just… threw that out there,” Seth said faintly. “Like it was nothing.”

Nick groaned, slumping against the closet door behind him. “Goddammit. I was going to surprise you with them.”

“You were going to surprise me with dental dams.”

“Inflection is a thing that exists,” Nick reminded him. “And you gave me Skwinkles Salsagheti. I thought it might be nice to give you a present, too.”

“That’s not even remotely the same thing.” But there was a heat to his eyes, something that had nothing to do with Pyro Storm. Nick gasped quietly as Seth crowded him against the closet door, their knees bumping together. Seth kissed him again, teeth and tongue. He turned his head to the side as Seth kissed his jaw, his ear, breath warm as he bit down gently on Nick’s neck.

“Boy stains,” Dad called from the kitchen, causing them both to jump. “Don’t make me get the spray bottle.”

“Welp,” Nick said. “I guess I don’t have to worry aboutthatboner anymore. Hooray.”

“Oh my god,” Seth moaned, face aflame. “They canhearyou.”

“That we can,” Dad said. “Get in here and eat before it gets cold. And no more talk about boners.”

Mom laughed.

Halfway through breakfast, Mom said, “So.”