I don’t know how to tell you what it’s like to watch Noh go through nearly 30 45-minute-long episodes without telling anyone about his feelings for Phun. Then, after a night where his friends take over his house with a sleepover party (ala We Are), where all the friendly homophobia-laced bro jabbing is on full display, where they play truth-telling games and lie about how many girls they’ve slept with—after all that, to have his best friend insist on showering together in the morning while everyone else is still asleep. It’s some kind of gay nightmare.
Except his friend, naked right beside him, keeps on saying in the friendliest way, ‘it’s not weird, we used to do this,’ ‘come on, scrub my back and I’ll scrub yours,’ ‘how long has it been since we last took a shower together,’ ‘we’re lucky my dad was your piano instructor so we could become friends,’ ‘why don’t you tell me anything anymore,’ ‘I can see what’s going on with you and Phun,’ ‘We’re friends, you can always tell me anything.’
And you see Noh’s whole world change right there. You see how much easier it can be when Noh doesn’t have to scrub his own back or handle these feelings all on his own. You see the nightmare of being naked and vulnerable turn into the comfort of being known so well by someone that your nakedness doesn’t even matter to them. And the nakedness becomes de-sexualized. It becomes a sign of being in real community with his circle, and the casual but intimate conversation frees Noh back into his platonic friendships, which the show has made clear have always been there waiting for him anyways. As his friends fight over a serving spoon at the breakfast table right afterwards, Noh smiles with the most peaceful relief.
Love Sick understands platonic love amongst teenage boys better than about anything. They’re rough around the edges, a bit vulgar and gross, and not sentimental, but they’re familiar (almost too familiar), supportive, and eternally loyal, tethered to the kids they used to be even as everything changes.
