"No. That's not it."
Marcus's voice echoed through the rehearsal room, heavy with exhaustion.
He stood up, rolling his script into a tube and waving it through the air as he paced.
"The chemistry between you two is there. I could see it from the audition." He stopped and looked down at the two of them sitting on the floor. "But something's still missing."
Noah kept his gaze on his own fingers.
He already knew what was coming.
"Especially you, Noah."
There it is.
"Every time there's physical contact, your whole body locks up. Like you're checking off a task. That doesn't work on screen. It doesn't work at all."
Noah didn't look up.
Because Marcus was right.
At some point, any time Asher got close enough to touch him, his body would seize up on its own. He couldn't even explain it himself.
Marcus went quiet for a few seconds, pacing slowly, seeming to choose his words.
"Noah, I know you're new to this. But this isn't just any project." His tone shifted, turning serious. "Audiences aren't forgiving. Every crack in the performance gets magnified. Especially in a dual-lead drama like this — the chemistry and the connection between you two is the show. If that doesn't land, the whole thing falls apart."
Noah's fingers curled slightly.
"I understand these things take time. But we don't have time." Marcus said. "We start shooting next week."
He looked at Noah, his voice sharpening.
"So I need you to fix this. Soon."
Noah nodded, and said nothing.
"Good. That's it for today." Marcus gathered his things. "I hope when I see you two tomorrow, I'm looking at different people."
The door swung open and clicked shut.
The rehearsal room held only the two of them.
Noah stayed where he was, his mind turning fast.
Whatever he felt about Asher whatever it was that made him resist every time the man came near none of that mattered. The drama still had to be filmed. The problem was his. Which meant he had to be the one to fix it.
He'd already worked out what to say. But now that the moment was here, the words wouldn't come.
Asher hadn't moved either. He was watching Noah. That steady, unreadable gaze, heavy and still.
Noah opened his mouth. Closed it again.
A few seconds passed.
"Just say it," Asher said.
Noah met his eyes.
"I want to fix what the director was talking about. As soon as possible." He paused. "I need you to work with me on that."
Asher raised an eyebrow. "Why would I do that?"
Noah's fingers tightened.
"Because you're why I react that way." His voice came out lower than intended, a little muffled. "That's why."
The words were out before he could stop them. Too direct. Too honest. But they were already gone.
Asher looked at him. Something unreadable moved through his expression.
Then he stood up. "I don't have time for this." And he turned toward the door.
Noah blinked then shot to his feet and grabbed Asher's arm.
"Wait."
Asher stopped. Turned his head.
Noah's heart was hammering. He couldn't let him just leave.
"This drama matters to me. You already know that." His voice came out urgent, almost rushed. "I don't want to be the reason it fails."
Asher said nothing. He just looked at him.
Noah's hand was still wrapped around his arm. He didn't let go.
He drew a slow breath. "I really... need this to work."
Silence.
Asher glanced down at the hand gripping his arm.
"What exactly do you want me to do?"
Noah exhaled.
"I'm not sure either." He pulled out his phone and did a quick search. "Online it says... getting to know each other through everyday situations helps the most. The highest success rates are grocery shopping, cooking together, and taking walks."
Asher looked at him. The corner of his mouth shifted, just barely.
"...Let's just do those three."
Asher was quiet for two seconds.
"Come on."
Noah looked up.
"Where?"
"The grocery store."
---
The supermarket that afternoon was quiet.
Bright lights. Cold air humming from the vents. Shelves lined up in neat, even rows.
Asher pushed the cart while Noah walked ahead.
Noah moved slowly through the produce section, stopping to examine vegetables one by one pressing this one, turning that one over, setting back whatever didn't meet his standards and keeping what did.
Asher followed with the cart, unhurried, not saying a word.
"Is there anything you want?" Noah asked, not looking back.
"Whatever's fine."
Noah suppressed a sigh.
Whatever.
"Then I'm buying what I want."
He moved on, rounding the corner into the fruit section.
Fresh produce filled the refrigerated cases in splashes of color.
His eyes landed on a carton of strawberries. He picked it up, looked it over, and placed it in the cart. Then added a few other fruits he liked.
They kept walking.
In the snack aisle, Noah spotted something he recognized a brand he used to eat as a kid, the kind that had quietly disappeared from most stores. He crouched down to check the bottom shelf and picked out two bags.
He was just about to stand up...
Crack.
His head connected with something solid above him.
It actually hurt.
Noah grabbed his head, winced, and looked up.
Asher was standing right behind him, one hand raised to his own chin.
Noah had headbutted him in the jaw.
Asher looked down at the hand Noah was still pressing to his head. "Did that hurt?"
Noah's hand stilled.
"...I'm fine." He stood up. His gaze went to Asher's jaw.
He reached out, meaning to check then realized what he was doing, and his hand froze mid-air.
But he didn't pull back.
His fingertips made brief, light contact with Asher's jaw.
"Does it hurt?"
Asher looked at him. Something deep and quiet in his eyes.
"No."
Noah dropped his hand and glanced away, suddenly uncomfortable.
"...Stand further back next time," he muttered, and kept walking.
His ears felt warm.
---
In the condiments aisle, Noah selected a few things he used regularly.
When he stepped over to the cooking oil shelf and started comparing labels, something in his peripheral vision made him look up.
Asher had picked something up from the shelf beside him.
Noah turned.
It was a jar of coconut oil. White label. Identical to the one from last night.
That faint, soft sweetness it was still lodged somewhere in the back of his memory.
The heat flooded Noah's face all at once.
Asher turned the jar over in his hands, glanced over at Noah, and let a slow smile spread across his face.
"Should we get one?"
Noah's mind went blank.
"No!"
He turned and walked away fast, not looking back.
Asher's low laugh followed him down the aisle.
Noah's ears were burning.
This person.
Is something wrong with him?
---
There was a short queue at the checkout.
While they waited, a sound rose from somewhere near the front a child crying. A boy, maybe three or four years old, held against his mother's hip, wailing at full volume. His mother was juggling him with one arm and trying to steady the cart with the other, visibly overwhelmed.
Noah reached over without thinking and caught the cart for her.
"Thank you so much," she said, shooting him a grateful look.
"It's nothing."
The boy was still crying, face streaked with tears and snot.
Noah thought for a moment. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a piece of candy, peeled the wrapper off, and held it out in front of the boy.
"Want some candy?"
His voice had gone soft. Quiet.
The crying hiccupped and paused. The boy blinked at the candy through wet lashes.
"It's strawberry flavored," Noah said, with a small smile. "Really sweet."
The boy hesitated, then slowly reached out and took it, popping it into his mouth.
Sure enough the crying stopped.
"Thank you, big brother."
"You're welcome." Noah ruffled his hair gently. "Big boys don't cry, right?"
The boy nodded solemnly.
Asher stood beside them and watched.
When Noah talked to the child, his whole face changed eyes curved, voice dropped into something low and soft and warm.
Nothing like the way he spoke to Asher.
Asher watched the line of Noah's profile for a long moment.
I want him to use that voice with me.
That soft, quiet version of him.
---
Parking lot.
They loaded the bags into the trunk, then got in the car.
Noah settled into his seat and said, almost without thinking: "Let's go home."
Home?
Asher's hands went still.
He turned and looked at Noah.
Home.
That word had always meant nothing to him. Growing up, there had simply been no version of it in his world not the feeling, not the reality, not the idea of it. Something in him had never been able to receive it.
But when Noah said let's go home...
The word sounded different.
Noah noticed Asher hadn't moved, and turned to look at him. Found Asher staring at him with an expression he couldn't read.
"What's wrong?" He waved a hand in front of Asher's face.
Asher came back to himself. He shifted his gaze.
"Nothing."
He didn't start the car. Instead, he changed the subject.
"You carry candy around?"
"Yeah." Noah nodded. "Low blood sugar, so I got used to it."
"Give me one."
Noah looked at him, mildly surprised. "You have low blood sugar too?"
"No." Asher said. "I just want one."
Noah stared at him.
This person is genuinely strange sometimes.
But he reached into his pocket anyway, took out a piece of candy, unwrapped it, and held it out.
Asher didn't take it.
He just opened his mouth.
Noah blinked. Then understood.
He brought the candy to Asher's lips.
Asher closed his mouth around it.
Noah was already pulling his hand back
Asher's fingers caught his wrist.
"What are..."
The words cut off. Asher tugged, gently but deliberate, pulling him close.
The space between them collapsed.
Close enough for Noah to see the exact curve of Asher's eyelashes.
His body went rigid on instinct.
"Relax," Asher said. Low voice.
His eyes stayed on Noah's. Dark and still.
Noah's pulse kicked up fast.
Asher raised his other hand and brought it to Noah's face. The pad of his thumb moved slowly from his cheekbone to the line of his jaw, tracing the shape of him. Easy. Unhurried.
Noah's breathing started to go uneven.
"Look at me." Asher said.
Noah lifted his eyes.
Those eyes were deep. Very dark.
Asher's gaze dropped to Noah's mouth.
Then he leaned in.
Noah watched that face draw closer and felt his heartbeat slam.
He pressed a hand against Asher's chest.
Asher stopped. Didn't pull back. Just stayed there, holding the distance.
A few centimeters between them. Nothing more.
"This kind of proximity," Asher said quietly, his breath brushing Noah's lips, "should help."
Noah didn't get a chance to respond.
Asher kissed him.
Light.
Like something settling softly against his lips.
Noah's whole body locked up for a moment, hands moving reflexively to push him away.
But Asher's hand curved around the back of his head, and the kiss deepened.
Strawberry.
Sweet, faint, dissolving between them the taste of the candy, still there.
Asher's tongue moved slowly, tracing the line of his lips, then slipping inside to meet his. The sweetness passed between them, back and forth.
Noah's thoughts started to blur.
He should push him away.
But that sweetness made everything feel strangely distant.
Asher's hand slid from the back of his head to the nape of his neck, fingertips moving in slow, soft circles over that sensitive skin.
Noah shivered. The resistance inside him kept coming apart, piece by piece. His body stopped being so rigid.
He was almost responding.
The car was very quiet. Just the sound of their breathing, tangled together.
Outside, the sky had darkened. The parking lot lights had switched on, casting amber through the windows.
The kiss went on.
Long enough that when Noah finally felt like his lungs were going to give out, he pressed his hand against Asher's chest again and pushed.
Asher pulled back slowly.
His eyes went to Noah's mouth.
Pink and flushed, glossy, lips slightly swollen from the kiss.
Then his gaze moved up to Noah's eyes.
Noah looked back at him.
There was confusion there. There was something frantic and scattered. And underneath it all something else, something that didn't have a name yet.
They looked at each other.
The strawberry sweetness still lingered on both their tongues.
Noah's face was burning.
He shifted back, putting a little space between them, and looked away.
"...Let's go." His voice came out rough, barely above a breath. "We still have to make dinner."