— t w e n t y - t h r e e —

said.

There was an awkward and uncertain pause in which everyone glanced at the sugar, which sat right by Adam's elbow. No one passed the sugar. Oliver sat furthest away from the sugar and couldn't have passed it even if he wanted to, which he absolutely did want to do. He would have done anything to end this awkward silence. Reed could have reached the sugar if he stretched over Adam and didn't look like he had any intentions of putting himself out of his way to grant Clair's request. Mr and Mrs Montgomery, thankfully, were browsing the breakfast buffet selection of the restaurant they were eating at and didn't have to suffer through this.

Although Oliver suspected Adam would have wordlessly handed over the sugar without incident if his parents were here. He hadn't told them that he had broken up with Clair and it didn't seem as if he had any intentions to do so anytime soon, forget in the last three days of this holiday. Clair made it no secret that she was less than pleased with Adam regardless of whether his parents were there but maybe they just thought they were caught up in a big argument. Maybe they hadn't noticed at all; Oliver couldn't tell with Adam's parents.

"Hey," Clair snapped, "pass the sugar."

"Ever heard of manners?" Adam said. "Try for a please."

"Please go fuck yourself," Clair said, in a voice that could cut glass. "And pass me the fucking sugar while you're at it."

"God," Reed muttered into his orange juice. "I thought I was bad with my attitude. You two could give me a run for my money."

They both glared at him and Oliver shot him an exasperated look for hardly helping the situation. Reed ignored them both in favour of rolling his eyes at Oliver, nudging his foot under the table. Oliver nudged it back and then they were caught in a silent but intense game of footsy. Since that eventful night in the hot tub, the dynamic of their friendship had certainly shifted in a way that Oliver could only hope was permanent. During the days when the others went off to ski, Clair and Adam on slopes as far away from each other as possible, Oliver and Reed made sure to make a lot more use of the empty chalet. Their bedroom was off-limits at night, when they shared it with Adam, but they more than made up for it during all their free hours in the day.

Reed hadn't dismissed any of it as a mistake, and didn't seem to regret anything so far, but that didn't mean they had ever talked about the implications of whatever this meant. Whether it meant anything more than fooling around in secret and sneaking around to hook up. Oliver was willing to just live in the moment, to steal all the kisses he could from Reed. It was more than he ever dreamt he would be allowed to have.

At the table, Clair and Adam had broken out into a heated argument over the sugar. They were loud enough to attract attention from nearby tables and Oliver couldn't stand it for a second longer. He snatched the sugar dispenser from the empty table behind him and set it in front of Clair.

"There," he said, unable to keep the edge of exasperation from his voice. "Enjoy it, please."

Clair didn't bother with a thank you as she aggressively shook sugar out over her pancakes and now Adam was glaring at Oliver. Things had been good between Oliver and Reed, great even, but Oliver couldn't say the same for anyone else. Gone were the days of Clair flirting with Oliver on the sly, or even making any attempt at conversation with Reed, as rare as it had been. She hated all three of them, she hated that she was still stuck on holiday with them, and made no attempt to pretend otherwise. Adam wanted nothing to do with Clair and had barely spoken more than three words to Oliver. He didn't seem to have any problem with Reed, though, which only confirmed Oliver's certainty that Adam thought he had encouraged Clair's behaviour, or ever flirted back with her.

Oliver knew he needed to have a conversation with him but Adam managed to avoid ever being alone with him and it was hardly something he could bring up while Clair was around. He was hoping it would be easier when they got home from this shambles off a holiday.

They sat in strained, uneasy silence until Adam's parents returned to the table with their food. It spoke volumes about how bad things were that the atmosphere began a little more bearable with them there. They made meaningless conversation about people and places they had seen in Val Thorens, with Oliver and Reed making an effort to chip in where possible. Clair was too busy tearing her pancakes to shreds to play nice for the parents and Adam's own attempts at chipping in were terse. All in all, it was as unbearable as every other meal has been since the break up. The only thing that made it even slightly tolerable was catching Reed's eye from across the table and continuing their games beneath the table.

"Reed," Mrs Montgomery said, and Oliver abruptly moved his foot back from where it was pressed against Reed's, as if she could somehow see what they were doing. "I meant to ask. How is that girlfriend of yours doing?"

Reed's gaze flicked to him for a split second before returning to Mrs Montgomery. "Unfortunately we broke up a few weeks ago," he told her.

"Oh, that's a shame. It sounded like the two of you were a great match," she said. "What happened there?"

Reed glanced at him again and Oliver wanted to tell him to quit being so obvious. He settled for nudging him hard with his foot, this time a warning rather than a playful tease. "I just didn't really see much of a future there," he said. "We wanted different things."

Different people, Oliver thought, with pleased satisfaction.

"And you, Oliver?" Mrs Montgomery's piercing blue-green gaze swivelled to him. "Are you dating anyone at the moment?"

Oliver wondered whether he was imagining the insidious undercurrent to the questioning. They were totally normal questions for adults to ask, usually with cheery curiosity, but there was nothing cheerful or curious about either of Adam's parents. Mr Montgomery was waiting for his response too, surveying him over his cup of coffee. They were like a pair of hawks, eager for him to slip up and reveal something that would grant them permission to hate him.

"Not currently, no," Oliver said. "I'm focusing on my studies so I can do well in my A-Levels."

Mrs Montgomery nodded in approval at this and glanced pointedly at Adam. He stabbed a piece of bacon and glared at Oliver again. Oliver winced internally; please one Montgomery, piss off another one. There was no winning with this family. Mr Montgomery seemed considerably less convinced by this explanation and his stony gaze said as much.

"Have you had many girlfriends back in London?" he asked.

There was definitely an insidious undercurrent to this one. Oliver had no clue what impression he could have given to make them think he was anything other than straight, especially when he hadn't even been certain of it himself until he gone to London. Maybe he had let his gaze linger on Reed a little too long one time, or been too obvious in one of the hidden flirty games they played. As if on cue, Reed's foot pressed against Oliver's under the table, either silent support or a warning of his own to answer carefully. Oliver didn't dare risk a glance at Reed. Not when Mr Montgomery was watching him so closely.

"A couple," Oliver said. "Nothing too serious, just girls I went to school with, although relationships when you're a teenager rarely are."

That earned him another glare from Adam. Oliver wasn't entirely sure what he had done to piss him off this time. By some miracle, that seemed to be the end of the interrogation. Mr Montgomery simply pursed his lips in response to that and had nothing more to say on the matter. Oliver could not have been more grateful when the meal was finally over and they were allowed to excuse themselves from the table. Oliver and Reed quickly parted from the rest of the group, giving some vague excuse of wanting to check out one of the shops in the town. It meant they were free to continue deeper through the streets of Val Thorens while the other four headed over to the ski slopes.

"Fucking hell," Reed muttered, when they were safely out of earshot. He cast a glance over his shoulder for good measure and released an audible sigh of relief when he saw they were finally alone. "That was brutal. I didn't realise we signed up for the Spanish Inquisition this morning."

Oliver laughed. "The Spanish Inquisition has nothing on Adam's parents. They should take tips from them, especially his dad. That man can cast your soul from your body just by looking at you."

"He's definitely made children cry before," Reed agreed, with a snort. "Whatever. Hopefully Adam and Clair's arguing will distract them from us next time."

"I guess it's the lesser of two evils."

With most of the day left to kill, they decided to head over to French Brew, the cafe that acted as their newly adopted hang out. Oliver liked to think of it as the Juniper's of Val Thorens. The drinks there were fairly mediocre, the coffee as nice as anything they could have brewed with the coffee machine back at the chalet, but the toasties were absolutely to die for. The two of them had agreed to make sure to try one of every toastie on the menu by the end of the holiday and they were well on track to complete that with a couple of days to spare. There were only two toasties left to try. One stuffed with aubergine and cumin, spread with a cashew cream that was what had put Oliver off of it. Then there was the truly horrific sounding peanut butter and pickle toastie.

"It is a new recipe we are trying out," the woman behind the counter, Claudette, told them. She had a thick french accent and she ran the cafe with her family. Reed and Oliver had become enough of regulars in the past week that Claudette and her children recognised them now. "I read an article about how customers are drawn to bold, exciting flavours which challenge the tastebuds rather than the boring same old. Fun, no?"

"Fun," Reed repeated, with an incredulous look.

Oliver couldn't help agreeing with him there. He was a fan of peanut butter, and he wasn't impartial to a pickle every now and then, but he couldn't imagine a worse combination than the two of them together. Personally, Oliver was more than happy to stick with the boring same old cheese and pesto toastie he had decided was his favourite.

"Have you managed to make a lot of sales on it?" Oliver asked.

Claudette smiled ruefully. "Ah, no. People do not seem to want to challenge the tastebuds quite so much as I hoped."

"I can't imagine why," Reed said, and Oliver stepped on his foot in an attempt to quell his insensitive lack of filter. Reed returned it by glaring at him and stomping on his foot back.

"Which is why," Oliver said, with a pointed glance towards Reed, "we'd love to buy one."

Reed shot him a startled look. "We would?"

"We only have two toasties left to try," Oliver said, gesturing to the chalkboard hanging up with the menu scribbled in colourful chalk. "The aubergine and cumin, and the peanut butter and pickle. You know the deal. We have to try every one at least once before we leave."

"Every single one?" Reed scrunched his nose up, an adorably endearing gesture that made Oliver want to kiss him. "Seriously?"

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Unless you're too scared?"

Reed was as adorable as he was predictable and automatically scowled at the suggestion anything could terrify him. "Fine," he said, grabbing his wallet from his jacket. "One aubergine and cumin toastie, and one peanut butter and pickle toastie, please."

Claudette beamed. "Of course!"

She tapped the order into the cash register and bustled off to make the toasties. Oliver went to grab his own wallet, but Reed had already tapped his card to pay for both of them. Oliver turned to him with a frown. "You don't have to — "

"I know." Reed met his gaze, sending a jolt through Oliver. "My treat."

Oliver couldn't help smiling at having his own words thrown back in his face from that time in the sixth form cafe and wished they were alone so he could return the favour, in the privacy of their bedroom. The cafe wasn't packed but there were a few families gathered around the tables, little children roaming free and poking sticky fingers everywhere. They were definitely too many people for Oliver to even consider slipping his hand in Reed's, forget kiss him. Reed might have come to terms with his sexuality enough that their flirty teasing had progressed to something more physical, an acknowledgement that there was definitely something going on between them, but he was still edgy about anyone knowing about it.

Oliver hoped it was a matter of Reed needing time to get used to the idea of being with a boy, with him, and that he would come around eventually. Oliver wasn't asking him to suddenly start with the public displays of affection, that was hardly something he did a lot of in his own relationships. He just wanted acknowledgement that this was more to Reed than a holiday fling. Baby steps, Oliver thought, wondering when this had suddenly mattered so much to him. Maybe it always had when it came to Reed. Oliver didn't think he'd ever cared about any of the other people he had dated the way he cared about Reed.

Outside the cafe, scarves wrapped tight as they trudged up through the snow to the chalet, Reed handed Oliver one of the toasties. A quick peek inside the paper bag confirmed that he'd given him the peanut butter and pickle one.

"Who decided I was eating this one?" Oliver wondered.

"Since you were the one who insisted on us buying this shit," Reed said, and rolled his eyes at the chastising look that earned him. "What? If you're feeling so defensive over the toastie, you can go ahead and eat it then."

"Ah, ah, not so fast." Oliver snatched the delightful aubergine and cumin toastie from Reed before he could take a bite of it. "Just because I'm not a dickhead to Claudette — "

"I was just being honest!"

" — doesn't mean I'm getting stuck with the shit toastie."

Reed looked triumphant. "So you admit it's shit!"

"Of course that's all you would get out of that. No," Oliver said, stepping back when Reed tried to snatch the nice toastie back from him. He wagged his finger at Reed's disgruntled expression. "Just because you're cute doesn't mean you get whatever you want."

There was a wicked gleam in Reed's eyes. "It doesn't?"

"I don't know." They were in a narrow alleyway that cut between two buildings. It was a shortcut that took them back up to the chalet, and more importantly, empty. The chatter of crowds was distant and the last thing Oliver was thinking about as he hooked his fingers in the loops of Reed's belt to draw him closer. "Maybe you should make that cute face worth my while."

Reed shoved him up against the brick wall and kissed him with a heated fervour that left Oliver light-headed. Reed kissed like he swam; fierce and determined, like giving anything less than his all was a crime. Oliver was still clutching both the toasties but Reed had no such impairment and made the most of it by slipping his hands under Oliver's shirt. Oliver shivered at the icy press of his fingers and Reed smirked against his lips, letting those cold fingers wander down to tease the sensitive skin at his waistband. Oliver lost grasp of all coherent thought at that and couldn't stop himself moaning against Reed's mouth.

Reed abruptly stepped away and Oliver was too dazed to do anything more than blink at him when he swiped the aubergine and cumin toastie from him with relative ease. He took a large bite out of it and the exaggerated moan of bliss he made only made it even more impossible for Oliver to comprehend the daylight robbery he had just been a victim of. Reed continued strolling down the alley as he devoured the toastie.

"Think that was more than worth your while," Reed called over his shoulder.

Oliver knew when it was time to accept defeat. The peanut butter and pickle toastie was, surprisingly, not as bad as he was anticipating. When he got over the wrongness of the salty pickle and the sweetness of the peanut butter, it was almost not terrible, with a somewhat satisfying crunch. At least this was what he said when Reed made sure to rub in his face how amazing and lovely his toastie was.

"Really," Oliver said, and leant forward to take as large of a bite out of Reed's toastie as he could, ignoring Reed's half-hearted protest to get his own food. It was as delightful as he had been assured but he had no intentions of telling Reed this. "Hmmm, it's okay. I've had better."

Reed scoffed. "What, like that pickle peanut butter thing you're forcing down your throat?"

"Not the worst thing I've had to force down my throat before," Oliver said casually.

The reaction that statement elicited was almost worth getting stuck with the shit toastie. Reed choked on his toastie hard enough that it took an intense bout of coughing to recover and the look he shot Oliver was one of scandalised incredulity. "And what the hell are you trying to say?" Reed demanded. "Choose your words fucking carefully, Sterling, or you'll be joining Adam on the floor tonight."

"I just meant the questionable stew they serve at Woodway. You know, the one they definitely make out of leftovers from the day before. God, Reed," Oliver said, with a disappointed shake of his head. "So dirty minded. Get your head out of the gutter."

Reed gave him a shove. "You're so full of shit."

"I'm not the one who turns everything into something sexual."

"That's it." Reed whirled around and jabbed a threatening finger at Oliver. "You're on the floor tonight. And I'm locking you out."

They'd reached the chalet and Reed was already at the door. Oliver laughed as he caught up to Reed and wrapped his arms around him from behind. The chalet was isolated enough from the others, and the ski slopes far away enough, that they were were almost certainly not being seen by anyone. It was far too early in the day for any of the others to be back yet from the slopes. All of this equated to Oliver being free to touch Reed now, as and when he pleased. Which was often.

"No way," Oliver said, snaking his arms tighter around Reed when he tried to pull away. "You'd never make me sleep on the floor. Not when it means you can't touch me all night."

"As if I'd ever touch you while Adam was in the same room."

Oliver murmured in his ear, "But imagine what you could do if we didn't have to share the room with Adam."

Reed twisted around in the circle of Oliver's arms and let his lips brush Oliver's in an agonising tease of a kiss. Oliver leant into it, making an impatient noise when Reed held back still, letting Oliver force him back against the door. Things quickly got too heated and then Oliver was fumbling for the key in his pocket, ignoring Reed's impatient demands to hurry up as best as he could when they were accompanied by kisses. As they stumbled into the chalet, Reed pulled away to make the most cursory sweep of the place to ensure they really were alone. Oliver was fairly convinced by the lack of shoes by the door and didn't give Reed long to check before yanking back into a long, never-ending kiss.