Familiar
Summary: Nolan doesn't know how he feels about Paul.
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When Nolan returned, he didn't know what to expect. Maybe he came to apologize. Maybe to see Debbie and Mark again. Maybe just to feel something.
What he hadn’t expected was Paul.
Nolan didn’t know how to feel when he found Debbie with him. He had always believed he was better, stronger, superior in every way. And yet… Here was Paul. Just a regular, weak human. Nothing exceptional. If Debbie had been with someone powerful, someone like Mark was with Eve then maybe Nolan could have understood.
But this?
This confused him.
What unsettled Nolan wasn’t just that Debbie had moved on. It was Paul’s reaction. The way he stared when the door first opened wide-eyed, frozen. The way he immediately rushed to shield Oliver, as if that would do anything against someone like Nolan.
And then Nolan felt that strange, uncomfortable twist in his chest when Oliver shoved past Paul to hug him.
“I mean no harm. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it by now,” Nolan said as a greeting.
Paul still looked worried, but not for himself. His eyes kept darting to Debbie shocked, angry Debbie as if he expected her to run into his arms the second she saw Nolan.
She didn’t.
And somehow, that made it worse.
Paul was treated better than Nolan by Debbie, by Mark. It was strange, watching the way Debbie and Paul interacted. The quiet touches, the ease between them. Nolan couldn’t quite name the feeling building in his chest.
Jealousy, maybe.
Yes… that had to be it.
He didn’t like Paul. Or maybe he hated what Paul represented. The way he danced with Debbie. The way he held her when she was tired. The laughter they shared so easily.
Nolan supposed he was jealous of a human.
How far the mighty had fallen.
Even now, as they sat around the dinner table Oliver insisting on a “family dinner” the tension was thick. Paul was clearly nervous, but he tried anyway.
“So, um… what’s the most you can bench?” Paul asked.
Nolan barely looked up from his plate. “I haven’t checked recently. Last I did, somewhere between two hundred million to over two billion pounds.”
Paul stared at him.
“That’s…” he trailed off, searching for the right word.
Nolan braced himself. He expected fear. Awe, maybe.
“That’s amazing.”
Something stirred in Nolan’s chest something unfamiliar, yet oddly recognizable.
“Yeah, Dad’s pretty strong,” Oliver said proudly.
Nolan didn’t feel proud. He glanced at Mark, who quickly took a bite of his food, avoiding eye contact.
“I’ve been working out too,” Paul added with a small laugh. “The most I can lift is about thirty pounds.”
It was pathetic.
And yet Paul didn’t seem ashamed.
“I believe that’s good for an average man,” Nolan said flatly.
“It is,” Debbie replied, her tone sharp, her glare sharper.
Paul just shrugged, unbothered.
That was another strange thing most people hated being called average. But Paul didn’t. He wasn’t insecure, but he wasn’t arrogant either. He just… was.
Nolan didn’t know what to make of him.
That confusion followed Nolan even later.
Mark was injured, nothing serious, just scratches but Paul hovered anyway. He and Debbie fussed over him, checking every cut. Paul gently convinced Debbie to go upstairs and rest, promising he’d take care of things.
He kissed her before she left.
Then he turned to Nolan.
“Uh… I think you’re going to need stitches,” Paul said, pointing at the blood.
“I’m fine. It’ll heal in an hour,” Nolan replied.
“Yeah, I know, but… better safe than sorry.” Paul hesitated, then held up a first aid kit. “At least let me clean it.”
Nolan was ready to refuse.
Then Paul looked at him.
“Please. It’ll ease my mind.”
Nolan didn’t understand it. There had to be something more, some kind of power because that was the only explanation for why he gave in to something so trivial.
Paul’s hands were gentle. Careful. Warm.
And that warmth lingered.
At first, Nolan thought it was disgusting, something familiar yet unwelcome. But it wasn’t. It was something else entirely. Something that made his head feel light, like a quiet buzzing under his skin.
“All done,” Paul said, lifting his hands with a nervous smile.
Nolan found himself staring at that smile, wanting strangely to feel it for himself. His hand twitched, almost reaching for Paul’s face before he stopped.
This felt familiar.
Too familiar.
He had felt it before.
Back when he had still been part of the family.
Like the time Paul insisted they all take a week off and go to a water park. Nolan had stayed back at first, lounging beside Debbie, watching from a distance.
He watched Paul in the water laughing, splashing, completely at ease.
Then a child nearby started crying, lost and alone. Paul noticed immediately. He picked the child up, lifting them high so they could see above the crowd but he wasn’t tall enough.
So he waved Nolan over.
With a small push from Debbie, Nolan followed.
The child had been afraid of him at first. Of course they were.
But Paul just smiled soft, reassuring, a little awkward and somehow, that was enough. The child let Nolan lift them, and it didn’t take long before they found their parents.
Afterward, Paul was dragged back into the chaos by Oliver and Mark, demanding ice cream.
“Here,” Paul said later, awkwardly handing Nolan one. “I didn’t know what flavor you’d like, but… who doesn’t like cookies and cream?”
Nolan took it.
But he found himself watching Paul instead watching the way he licked melting double fudge from his fingers.
Nolan felt hot.
Uncomfortably so.
And it took him a moment to realize it wasn’t the sun.
It was something else.
Something pooling inside him, unfamiliar and yet not.
Later, in the water, Nolan joined them. He told himself he was just observing.
But his gaze lingered too long on Paul’s bare chest.
And when they wrestled, Nolan knew he knew he held on just a little longer than necessary.
Nolan had felt this before.
He couldn’t name it, couldn't quite grasp it but it lingered in his chest like something half-remembered. It was similar to the feeling he used to get when he looked at Debbie… back when she rejected him. Back when every attempt he made to reach her was met with distance.
That feeling had faded over time. Debbie had softened, in her own way. She spoke to him more, let him stay, let him exist in her space again.
But she didn’t touch him. Not like that.
And that made sense.
She was with Paul.
Nolan could respect that.
He didn’t know when that respect had started when his sharp dislike had dulled into something quieter, something heavier. Maybe it was when he realized Paul was a good man.
Or maybe it was when he realized Paul was better than him.
Even if Paul himself would never believe that.
Paul wasn’t a conqueror. He wasn’t cruel. He didn’t take or dominate or destroy. He was gentle. Kind. Steady in a way Nolan had never been. Even when he was afraid, he didn’t run he stayed. He offered comfort. He offered a home.
He offered forgiveness.
Paul was someone Nolan had come to admire.
He admired him even more the night Debbie sat him down.
“ Paul and I have been talking,” she said, her fingers fidgeting with her glass.
Nolan stayed silent, watching her carefully.
“And… he says he’s comfortable with me and you dating,” she admitted.
Nolan blinked.
“He’s… okay with us?” There was relief in his voice more than he expected. Relief, and something else beneath it. Something uncertain. Something almost like dread. “You and Paul didn’t”
Debbie shook her head quickly. “No. We’re still together. So if you want to be with me, you’ll have to deal with Paul too.”
Nolan didn’t hesitate. “That’s perfectly fine.”
Debbie smiled at that, small but genuine. “Good.”
Then her expression shifted just slightly, but enough.
“Just so you know,” she added, her voice firm, “if you act up, I will choose Paul over you. I always will.”
She didn’t hesitate when she said it.
For some reason… It didn't bother Nolan.
“That’s fine with me,” he replied.
And it was.
There was a feeling Nolan got when he watched Debbie and Paul together.
Debbie looked beautiful even when she was a little drunk, laughing as she told old stories. Stories about Nolan. Her smile still had that same warmth, the same curve he had memorized. The same dimples.
He knew every detail of her face.
But then there was Paul.
The way he laughed loud, unrestrained, almost clumsy. The way his eyes lit up, bright and alive, like something constantly burning just beneath the surface.
Nolan had memorized that too.
If he closed his eyes, he could see it clearly.
There was nothing remarkable about Paul’s eyes at least, not by any objective standard. Paul himself insisted he wasn’t handsome.
Nolan knew that wasn’t true.
Even now, as they prepared for yet another formal gathering, Paul stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his tie for what had to be the tenth time.
“I just… I don’t know,” Paul muttered, tugging at the fabric again.
Debbie walked over, gently fixing it for him. She leaned in and kissed his cheek.
“You look handsome. Trust me,” she said, her hand resting briefly against his chest.
Nolan found himself staring a little too long at that touch.
“Are you sure?” Paul asked, uncertain.
“She’s not wrong,” Nolan said from behind them. “You’re textbook handsome.”
Paul startled slightly, his shoulders tensing before he relaxed. A faint blush crept across his cheeks barely visible under the marks Debbie had already left there throughout the night.
“I mean… I guess if both of you are saying it…” Paul mumbled, a little embarrassed.
Nolan watched the way he smiled, small, nervous, genuine.
And again, that feeling returned.
The party itself was nothing special. Just formalities. Empty apologies. People pretending things were normal.
Debbie drew attention, of course. She always did. No one was surprised to see her.
But Paul…
People looked at him strangely.
Not with cruelty. Not even with disrespect.
Just… confusion.
Nolan couldn’t tell why. Maybe it was because no one held Paul in the same regard. Or maybe it was because Paul didn’t hold himself that way.
“What are you?” someone asked bluntly.
Paul blinked, caught off guard. “Oh uh… Paul. Debbie’s boyfriend,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.
The man glanced toward Nolan.
Paul noticed immediately.
“I mean her other boyfriend,” he corrected quickly with an awkward laugh. “She had to get two, because she’s just that amazing.”
“I think you’re rather amazing yourself,” Nolan said.
Paul jumped slightly, turning to him. “Whoa you snuck up on me,” he said with a nervous chuckle, only then noticing Nolan hovering just slightly above the ground.
From across the room, Nolan caught sight of Debbie watching. Observing. Waiting.
Their eyes met.
She gave him a small nod and a smile.
The rest of the night passed in shifts.
Nolan, Debbie, Mark, and Oliver all took turns orbiting around Paul talking to him, staying near him, pulling him into conversations.
And Nolan found himself watching Paul more than anyone else.
Watching the way he carried himself.
The way he stayed kind, even when he didn’t quite belong.
The way he stayed anyway.
There was something strange about the way Paul talked about himself.
Nolan had noticed it before, but it stood out now more than ever.
Paul paced back and forth across the backyard, the soft grass barely making a sound under his shoes. In his hands, he held the ring, turning it over and over again between his fingers like he was afraid it might disappear if he stopped touching it.
It was a beautiful ring. Simple, but elegant. It suited Debbie.
Not like the one Nolan had bought her.
“Are you sure?” Paul asked again, his voice tight with nerves as he stared down at it.
He had already asked Mark. Asked Oliver. Both had given their blessing enthusiastically, even. And still, that hadn’t been enough.
So he had knocked on Nolan’s door.
Pulled him away from Debbie’s warmth. From the quiet comfort Nolan had only just begun to regain.
Dragged him outside into the cool night air just to ask the same question again.
“Yes,” Nolan said, his voice steady, certain. “I see no reason why she would say no.”
Paul didn’t look convinced.
He swallowed, glancing down at the ring again. “I mean… I know I don’t suck or anything, but…” He trailed off, shoulders pulling in slightly. “I don’t know. Doesn’t it hurt? A little?”
Nolan frowned.
“Hurt?”
Paul hesitated, then forced a small, awkward smile. “I mean… wouldn’t you hate seeing her marry someone else? Especially someone who isn’t all that special?”
Something in Nolan shifted.
That of all things that was what stirred him.
Not the idea of Debbie marrying someone else.
Not the idea of losing her.
But the way Paul said that about himself.
Not all that special.
Nolan moved before he fully thought it through. One step forward, closing the distance between them. His gaze locked onto Paul’s face, the uncertainty there, the quiet way he made himself smaller.
For a moment, Nolan considered simply covering his mouth. Silencing the words before Paul could say anything like that again.
Instead, he stopped.
“…Can I kiss you?” Nolan asked.
Paul froze.
“What?” His head snapped up, eyes wide, face already starting to turn red.
“Can I kiss you,” Nolan repeated calmly, “to reiterate how special you are.”
Paul blinked at him, clearly thrown off. “Aren’t there… better ways to do that?”
“There are,” Nolan admitted. “But I want it to be this way.”
Paul opened his mouth. I closed it. Then let out a quiet, nervous breath as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“…I guess.”
Nolan didn’t wait.
He leaned in, closing the distance completely, and pressed their lips together.
It was… different.
Nolan had never allowed himself to think about this before. Men weren’t women—that had always been his simple, unquestioned understanding.
And he was right.
Paul’s lips weren’t like Debbie’s.
They were thinner. Softer in a different way slightly chapped, a little uneven, warm and uncertain beneath Nolan’s. They didn’t mold perfectly like Debbie’s did, didn’t fit like something made to match him.
And yet Nolan didn’t pull away.
Paul’s hands came up instinctively, hesitating before resting against Nolan’s arms. They weren’t like Debbie’s either. Not small and delicate, not something that slipped neatly between his fingers.
They were broader. Rougher. Warmer in a grounding, human way.
Different.
Everything about him was different.
Paul didn’t have Debbie’s curves, her softness, her shape.
And still, Nolan found his hands moving gripping Paul’s waist, pulling him closer despite himself. Holding him there like he didn’t want the space between them to exist at all.
Paul let out a soft, startled sound into the kiss, his body tensing before slowly relaxing.
Nolan deepened it just slightly, just enough to feel the shift, to feel Paul respond in kind even through the nervousness.
It was unfamiliar.
But it wasn’t wrong.
Not even a little.
Paul was the one to break it.
He tapped lightly against Nolan’s chest, breath uneven as Nolan finally pulled back.
Paul’s chest rose and fell quickly, his face flushed, his eyes wide in a way Nolan hadn’t seen before.
“Oh uh we should probably tell Debbie about this,” Paul said, words tumbling out in a rush. “Before I propose to her.”
Of course that was his first thought.
Even now.
Even like this.
Paul was still thinking about Debbie. Still putting her first.
Nolan found that… oddly endearing.
From inside the house, through the soft glow of the lights, Nolan could see Debbie standing by the window.
Watching.
She lifted a hand and gave a small wave.
Nolan hummed softly. “I think she knows.”
Paul turned quickly, following his gaze. “Oh.”
He paused, squinting slightly.
“…I guess she’s okay with it,” he said, almost to himself.
Nolan didn’t hesitate this time.
He leaned in again, pressing another kiss to Paul’s lips shorter, but more certain. Then his jaw. His neck.
Places he hadn’t realized he had been thinking about.
Paul let out a soft, surprised laugh, hands coming up again, this time more certain as they rested against Nolan’s shoulders.
But just as Nolan began to lose himself in it. Paul pulled back.
“Wait! wait a second,” he said, blinking rapidly. “How long has she been watching? Does that mean she knows about the proposal?”
As if on cue, the back door slid open.
Debbie stepped out, leaning casually against the frame, arms crossed with an amused smile on her face.
“For the record,” she said, “Oliver told me like a week ago.”
Paul froze.
“…He did?”
Debbie laughed softly, shaking her head. “That boy cannot keep a secret.”
She walked over, closing the distance easily. She cupped Paul’s face and kissed his cheek, smudging lipstick against his skin yet again before gently pushing him down onto one knee.
Paul barely resisted, still processing.
“You can still ask,” Debbie said warmly, her smile soft and certain. “I’d love to say yes.”
Nolan stood there, watching.
And he felt nothing but love.
