He thought about bruised knuckles and gray eyes and a sneer which always made him so unreasonably angry.

Did other people—could they tell that—

“See, he’s getting it now,” Dare whispered in his dreamy tone, a bit of friendly mockery.

“Oh my God.” Jack ran his hands through his hair.

“I think you’re right, Dare.”

“It happens every once in a while, you know.” Jack heard the sound of a weak thwap of Quinn’s hand on Dare’s fluffy stomach. And then an “oof!” as all those cookies were probably unsettled.

“So you—you’re trying to tell me—” He could barely put the words together. How—“Have you known all this time? How long—”

They shared one of those looks that only longtime partners can share. Dare tilted his head, light catching the warm tones in his hair, and Quinn spoke first. “About you? I guessed in sophomore year.”

“What?” Jack didn’t think of himself as much of a squawker, but that was absolutely a squawk, entirely undignified. Jules giggled.

“Oh, yes.” Quinn passed Jules another sheet of Dare’s handmade paper for doodling. “And I knew about him...”

God, they were really talking about this.

“I mean, you really did go around spitting at each other like territorial cats about to—” He caught Jack’s shocked face. “Well. I knew about him in freshman year. It wasn’t terribly difficult to figure out.”

“Did you...” Jack spread out his hands. “I don’t know, think about telling me?”

Quinn rolled his eyes. “What, like a teenage queer heart-to-heart? Honestly, what good would it have done?”

Rather a lot, he imagined.

“Yeah, it wasn’t really our place to—” Great, Dare, too. “It took longer for me to really think about it—not like it was a big surprise, but my head is always in other things—but I thought...”

Oh Jesus, his friends were killing him.

“You thought I’d be all right stumbling along? Marrying Meg? Having three children? When I could have...” He trailed off, shoulders tense.

“You said it yourself, hon.” Dare shrugged again, frowned. “I know you really do love her. And family—making our own families—is such a blessing. Goodness knows you’re a great dad. I didn’t think I had a right to say anything, and—you two were always so good together. And I thought it would be enough, even if...”

“Yeah.” Jack slumped. “Even if.”

Jack couldn’t really be angry. Not at them, at least. He’d fooled them all, and himself. And it was just a stupid thing about adulthood that he should’ve figured out earlier.

You can’t make someone into your happily-ever-after. Even if you love them—simply, quietly, completely. A part of you will always know.

Some part of you—the jagged parts—