"Who's your best friend?"

That had always been the question, ever since they were all little children. The children would then all scramble to their best buddies and point at them, almost in a childishly possessive fashion, and declare that that was their best friend.

The ritual had been started by none other than their mothers, who were more than pleased to watch as each pair of children announced their friendship fervently. Brian and Brock would go arm-in-arm, pointing at each other with gleeful smiles on their faces whenever the question was asked. Tyler and Craig would immediately try to outdo them, announcing louder than Brian and Brock that they were each other's best friend. David and Lui would look at each other for a second, before quietly pointing at each other, a silent but strong declaration of their friendship. Marcel, Scott and Anthony would have a yelling match in the background about who was whose best friend, before declaring that the three of them were all best friends, and there wasn't a singular 'best friend' in their friendship.

Jonathan would, however, simply ask one question.

"Aren't we all each other's best friends?"

This question would cause all the commotion to cease, and everyone would slowly nod in agreement, one after the other, declaring that they were all best friends, regardless of who they preferred to be around in the group.

All the while whilst that happened, Evan and Luke would glare at each other darkly, ready to snap at each other and insist that they were Jonathan's best friend.

The ritual went beyond their childhood. Even when Brock and Evan began to bulk up from their intense physical training and even when Tyler began to shoot up like a weed, towering over his closest buddy and almost lifting Craig off his feet whenever they took each other arm-in-arm, even when David and Lui grew so differently, one tall and one small, their skin like night and day, and even when little hairs began to sprout on Marcel, Scott and Anthony's faces, the ritual continued –

"Who's your best friend?"

And the question would send the boys into a flurry, eager to declare their best friends to the world, only to be interrupted by Jonathan's innocent little question.

"Aren't we all each other's best friends?"

And the cycle would repeat itself, with the boys declaring their friendship to their best friends, and then to each other as a group whilst Evan and Luke glared sullenly at each other, fighting a silent war behind everyone's backs and eager to claim their positions as Jonathan's best friend.

But just once, just once in their adult lives, at their mothers' dinner party when the question was once again asked and the cycle repeated itself, an additional question was asked, this time directed at Evan and Luke –

"What about you two? All these years we've only ever heard from the rest of the boys. David and Lui, Marcel, Scott, and Anthony, Tyler and Craig, Brock and Brian, they all are each other's best friends – not to say that all of you aren't great friends with each other, like Jonathan says so. But we've never heard from you both. Who're your best friends?"

The pair glared at each other, dark eyes staring daggers into each other. The room stilled around them, each and every individual becoming steadily aware of the tension that was growing between the two men. Slowly, silently, both raised their arms, index fingers extended and pointing at the dark-haired man with the pale skin and blue eyes.

"Ah, just like Marcel and Scott and Anthony, I guess!" One mother burst out in an unconvincing attempt to try and defuse the tension. "A trio like them."

Her voice grew small and died out towards the end, almost as though she barely believed what she said herself. The boys simply looked at each other silently, then at Jonathan, as though they knew that it was barely the case. The silence was first broken by Luke.

"We're not a trio," he grumbled, eyes still glued on Evan. "I'm Jonathan's best friend."

"Oh yeah?" Evan challenged, his eyes narrowing. "Prove it."

"I've known him way before you did!" Luke growled. "Our families are like one big family, and we moved here together. He's practically my brother. You? He only met you when he got here."

"Right. Except I know him really well, and I can make him laugh harder than when he's with you."

"Don't you fucking dare –"

A soft, uneasy cough resounded from the crowd of ladies in the room, and Luke paused, before starting again.

"Don't you dare insinuate that I can't do the same as you can. You don't even know how Jonathan's like when he's with me."

"Yeah I do. He laughs but not that hard. Have you ever heard him laugh so hard that he goes breathless and he can barely talk? Have you ever heard him laugh so hard he starts wheezing? Have you ever heard him laugh just because you were laughing?"

"He doesn't even call you by your real name." Luke pushed further, a menacing tone seeping into his voice. "You don't even call him by his real name. You guys just use damn nicknames for each other. Have you ever heard him address you as Evan?"

"Oh yes I have, Luke, I have… many, many times."

"But only back then when we first met. How many times does he call you by your real name now? One for every ten times he calls you Vanoss? And you still don't call him by his real name."

"Screw you." Evan began to holler. "You probably don't even know why he likes teddy bears, do you?"

"So what if I don't? You don't even know why he likes Jason Voorhees and all those horror movies!"

"Guys, shut up!"

Every pair of eyes turned towards Jonathan, who, after committing himself to a distressed silence the whole time, had spoken up, voicing his opinion with a troubled half-scream. His brows upturned and his eyes glimmering slightly in the dim light, he stood up abruptly and sped out of the room, the blue of his jacket flashing through the doorway in mere seconds, leaving the room in an awkward silence. Evan and Luke stared after him, jaw open, but it was Luke that reacted first, following quickly after the speckle of blue.

Outside in the night, Jonathan was staring up in the dark sky. The stars seemed blurrier that night – or perhaps it was because of the tears in his eyes. Listening to Evan and Luke fight had taken a huge toll on him, and he was caught in the middle. He had firmly taken the stance that he considered everybody in the group best friends for that very reason – because he loved everyone equally, albeit in very different ways.

"Johnny?" Luke's voice called out from behind him, gruff and hollow. "Look, I'm sorry. We're sorry. Come back in, please?"

"Luke… you don't understand. I do love you, you're the most wonderful big brother I've ever had. I love everyone here tonight as well, but for different reasons. Like how I love Marcel because he's a great friend, and Tyler because – although he's put me at some of my lowest times - he's put me at a lot more of my greatest times. But you and Evan… I can't choose, Luke. You're my brother and he's my…"

"Your soulmate," Luke finished for him bitterly. "I know. I'm not asking you to choose between me and him, Jonathan. It's just… it sucks that I can't compare to him, and I've known you my whole life. And he just comes along and sweeps you off your feet and you come to me telling me you think you're in love with him. Makes me feel like I've lost to him, and I'm not ready to admit that."

"Luke… you didn't lose to him. You'll always be my awesome big brother and I'll always love you like that. But I can't… I can't deny that I love Evan too. In a very different way from the way I love you. He's like a fire in my head and in my heart. He's so much and… I'm in love with him."

Luke sighed, and Jonathan heard a slight rustling behind him.

"You heard that, asshole? You've won." Luke called out to someone behind him. "I'm going back in first, Johnny. Don't make out for too long or I'll finish all the sandwiches."

Jonathan spun around quickly in alarm, only to see Luke's frame disappear back into the house behind the dark-haired man that he had grown to love in the long time that they had spent together. His eyes were sparkling hopefully, affectionately. He walked slowly, painfully slowly towards Jonathan, and as they closed in on each other, he asked in a low voice –

"Who's your best friend?"

Not a single word escaped Jonathan's lips, for just as he was about to answer and protest that everybody was, Evan kissed him full on the lips, taking Jonathan tightly into his arms. Of course it isn't me, he thought. It's everybody.

I'm just one of his best friends, the one that he's in love with.