Johnny plastered her room with posters of musicians and athletes, jazz singers and footballers, and played music at an entirely unacceptable volume. Jack and Theo were very grateful that he had bought the top-floor apartment—fewer people to bother—and appreciated the well-insulated interior doors. Living in a high-end apartment was...not bad.

“I told you.” Theo nudged Jack, after he’d stumbled to Johnny’s room to shut the damn door. “Living in luxury is the only way to live.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He kissed him, rolling them over, crawling down his body and fully taking advantage of their own well-insulated room. “You’re always right.”

Theo moaned, clutching at Jack’s hair. “Absolutely—ah, fuck—glad you agree.”

Jasper and Will were thrilled to be roommates, naturally, and they were two peas in a pod—getting into trouble every once in a while, but also earning high grades and being, in general, great kids. It all went very well until that summer after their senior year, when Jack had walked into their room, and—

“Aughh, my eyes!”

“Dad!”

“Jack!”

“Ugh!”

“We weren’t—” from Jasper, and, “Jazz, we obviously were, so fuck off, Dad,” from Will.

“Well, I guess we should have seen that coming.” Theo tried not to laugh as Jack, bright red, flopped onto their pillow-top mattress and groaned into his hands.

Will moved into Johnny’s old room.

In theory.

Everybody loved the noise-canceling insulation that summer.

Amy, their fourth Gwynns student, decorated her room in navy and red, mirrors everywhere and gold curtains around her bed, and got on fabulously with Theo—who had way too much fun spoiling her rotten—and together with Daisy and Jules was often planning world domination.

Quinn was a little scared of her, actually.

She was still Jack’s little girl.

Beatrice Beaumont popped over with some (uncomfortable) regularity for a glass of whiskey or a pot of tea and Jack had always been anxious until she grabbed him by the face and whispered, Theo out of the room, “You finally got it right. Thank you for loving him back.”

“Yeah. I mean—always.”

Dare, when he first came over, walked straight up to Theo, a strut still in his step all these years later, with a haughty (and entirely insincere) scowl on his face. Theo actually looked intimidated until Dare cracked, snickering, and gave him one of his signature perfumed hugs. And then he teared up when Quinn, always so intense, kissed his cheek and said, simply, “Welcome home, Theo.”

Genni visited often. She still hated Jack. But she’d go all soft and tender at the pure, unreserved contentment on Theo’s face when Jack kissed him. Not that she’d admit that, mind.