Routine
A long time ago, before anyone was entirely sure about the nature of their relationship, Ed used to sit between them on the sofa.
He enjoyed it; enjoyed sitting with them, his brother on one side, their mutual best friend on the other; enjoyed the company the two of them provided. He also appreciated the sense of control: sitting there in the centre, keeping the flow of conversation moving between them all.
That was the way he saw it.
But over time he slowly, subconsciously became aware that that was not the way it was. Nothing had changed on the outside, and nobody spoke of the tiny difference that had come over the situation, but Ed could somehow sense the two of them shifting uncomfortably, but invisibly, as they sat wedged on either side of him. There was an almost imperceptible weight in the air, as though they were communicating with each other over the top of his head- which by now could have been achieved with grace and ease.
He didn't mention it, fearing that it would sound stupid and not entirely sure about it himself, and continued doggedly in the old routine, pointedly ignoring the looks they gave him.
One summer day, instead of going into the living room after dinner, he decided to go for a walk outside. The day had been hot, gradually forcing the sweat out of him, and cool air was something he was in need of.
When he came back inside half an hour later he headed straight for the living room to sit and relax. He turned the handle and opened the door with next to no sound, and when he came into the room he saw them sitting on the sofa, kissing with their arms around each other.
He closed the door as silently as he had opened it, and went into the kitchen, sitting at the table and staring at the wall for a long time.
The next day he bolted his dinner and strode off into the living room without a moment's pause after he finished, positioning himself slap-bang in the centre of the sofa. It was a mix-up of a sofa, one that had never quite decided whether to sit two people or three. Normally they could all three fit onto it, but they would be slightly squashed together- just enough to be cosy- but the way he was sitting now, legs wide apart, there was barely room for a small person on either side. He stretched his arms out along the back of the couch in order to take up as much space as possible, settled himself, and waited.
They walked in together a few minutes later, and stopped in the doorway when they saw him. He looked up at them, frowning, almost glaring from under his brows. They stared back, wide-eyed, bewildered.
Then Ed's face split into a grin and he moved over, edging up to the far end of the sofa and patting the cushioned seat beside him.
Sighing with relief, they walked over to join him, and their smiles were grateful and happy as they sat down together.