SOULMATE(s) - 8. The Difference Between Silence and Nothing

By Monday afternoon, Nick had become exhausted from trying to look normal.

He had spent the entire day pretending that nothing had happened that morning. Nothing important, anyway. He had walked into Algebra II with Kit’s smile still caught painfully in his mind—the same smile he had seen near the lockers while a pretty girl held on to Kit’s arm as though she belonged there—and then Luke had noticed something was wrong almost immediately. Luke had touched Nick’s hand beneath the desk, only for Nick to pull away before he could decide whether the gesture had been comforting, friendly, or something else entirely.

Neither moment should have affected him as much as it did.

Kit was not his boyfriend. Luke was not his boyfriend either. One of them was barely his friend, and the other was still an impossible collection of teasing looks, mixed signals, and apologies that Nick did not know whether to trust.

Yet by lunchtime, Nick felt as though he had already lived through several days.

He had managed to avoid saying anything to Leah, Will, or Tobey. Leah had noticed he was quieter than usual, but Will had distracted her by complaining about the music room’s broken amplifier, and Nick had allowed their argument to carry the conversation away from him. He had eaten most of his lunch without tasting it, nodded when someone asked whether he had finished the English assignment, and looked toward the football table only twice.

Kit had not been sitting with the girl.

That should not have relieved him.

It had anyway.

By the time chemistry began in the afternoon, Nick had almost convinced himself that the tight feeling in his stomach had faded. He arrived early enough that only a handful of students were in the room, most of them gathered near the back or leaning against the lab tables while they waited for Mrs. Abrams.

Kit was already sitting in his usual place.

He wore a dark-blue long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms, and his beautiful auburn hair was slightly damp from the rain that had begun during lunch. His notebook was open in front of him, though he was not writing anything. The moment Nick entered, Kit looked up.

“Hey.”

Nick managed a small smile as he crossed the room.

“Hey.”

Kit continued watching him while Nick set his backpack beneath the table and took out his notebook. The attention was not intense, but Nick noticed it all the same. Kit had a quiet way of looking at people that made Nick feel as though he was being seen rather than merely observed.

Mrs. Abrams had written a list of isotope exercises across the board and arranged several trays of colored plastic pieces near the front of the classroom. Around them, students were already arguing over which color represented protons, even though the legend was written in large letters beside the diagrams.

Nick opened to a clean page and uncapped his pen.

Kit did not look away.

“Are you okay?”

The question caught Nick off guard, mostly because Luke had asked him almost the same thing that morning. The words sounded different coming from Kit, though. Luke had asked with curiosity mixed with concern, as though trying to solve a problem. Kit’s voice was softer, and there was no pressure behind it.

Nick nodded quickly.

“Yes, I am.”

Kit’s expression remained thoughtful.

“You seem a little off.”

“I’m just tired.”

It was not entirely a lie. Pretending not to care about anything had become exhausting.

Kit glanced at him for another moment before giving a small nod.

“Okay.”

He did not push.

That should have made Nick feel relieved, but instead it left him faintly disappointed. Some part of him had wanted Kit to ask again, even though Nick had no idea what he would have said if he did.

Mrs. Abrams called the class to order before the silence could grow uncomfortable. She explained that they would be building models of several isotopes and recording the number of protons, neutrons, and electrons in each one. The assignment was simple enough, and normally Nick would have finished it quickly.

Today, he placed one of the plastic pieces in the wrong section without realizing it.

Kit reached across the model and moved it gently.

“That’s a neutron.”

Nick blinked at the arrangement.

“Oh.”

“You put it with the electrons.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

Kit looked at him again, more openly this time.

Nick lowered his gaze to the worksheet and forced himself to concentrate. Jealousy had already made him feel foolish enough; he did not need Mrs. Abrams discovering that it had also damaged his understanding of basic chemistry.

He read through the instructions twice before arranging the next model. Kit worked beside him in the quiet, steady way he always did. They did not speak much beyond checking their answers and passing the colored pieces back and forth. Usually, Nick liked the silence between them. Kit never expected him to fill every pause or perform conversation for the sake of avoiding quiet.

Today, however, every silence felt crowded.

The image of the girl near the lockers returned no matter how firmly Nick tried to push it aside. She had been pretty, confident, and completely at ease touching Kit. Nick had watched her slide one hand along his arm while Kit smiled down at her, and the memory had followed him through the entire day.

He knew he had no right to feel hurt by it.

That knowledge did not help.

After twenty minutes, they finished the assignment ahead of most of the room. Mrs. Abrams checked their models and praised their work before moving on to a group near the windows. Nick began packing the plastic pieces back into the tray, careful to keep his hands busy.

Kit leaned slightly closer.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

Nick nodded again, though less convincingly this time.

“Yes.”

Kit studied him with a quiet patience that made Nick feel as though the answer had not fooled either of them.

The bell rang before the conversation could continue.

Chairs scraped across the floor as students began gathering their belongings. Within seconds, the classroom filled with the usual end-of-day rush: backpacks being zipped, notebooks shoved into folders, voices rising over one another as everyone moved toward the door.

Nick packed more slowly than necessary.

Kit placed his notebook into his bag and stood.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He turned slightly, and something inside Nick panicked at the thought of letting him leave without asking.

Before he could even think better of it, Nick reached out and caught the fabric of Kit’s sleeve between two fingers.

The gesture was so small that someone else might not have noticed it.

Kit did.

He stopped immediately and looked back.

Nick released the sleeve at once, already embarrassed by what he had done.

“What is it?” Kit asked.

Nick stared at the edge of the lab table. The question that had seemed urgent only a second earlier now felt impossible to say aloud.

“The girl this morning.”

Kit went still.

Nick wished he could take the words back. His face began to warm, and he tightened one hand around his backpack strap.

“What girl?” Kit asked, though the slight shift in his expression suggested he already knew.

“The one near the lockers.”

Recognition crossed Kit’s face.

“Oh.”

Nick swallowed.

“She seemed…” He searched for a word that would not sound jealous. “Friendly.”

Kit looked at him for several seconds.

For perhaps the first time since Nick had known him, Kit appeared unsure what to say. His lips parted, then closed again. Surprise gave way to something softer and more careful.

Nick’s embarrassment deepened.

“You don’t have to explain,” he said quietly. “I was just asking.”

“No, it’s okay.”

Kit glanced toward the classroom door, where the last few students were still leaving, then lowered his voice.

“Her name is Madison.”

Nick nodded as though that had been the information he wanted.

“She’s in eleventh grade,” Kit continued. “We’ve talked a few times.”

“Oh.”

Kit rubbed the back of his neck, looking more uncomfortable than Nick had expected.

“I know she’s interested in me.”

The knot in Nick’s stomach tightened.

He looked down before his expression could reveal too much.

“But I’m not interested in her in that way,” Kit added.

Nick’s head lifted.

“You’re not?”

“No.”

The relief came so quickly that Nick almost felt dizzy. He tried to hide it, but something must have changed in his face because Kit’s expression softened.

“I’m not very good at telling people no,” Kit admitted. “Not directly.”

Nick waited.

Kit leaned one hip against the lab table.

“I don’t want to embarrass anyone, so I smile or try to change the subject. Then they think I’m encouraging them.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re encouraging them.”

“It kind of does if I keep letting them think there’s a chance.”

Nick thought about the way Madison had held Kit’s arm while he stood there smiling politely. What Nick had interpreted as comfort might have been awkwardness.

“You were only trying to be nice,” Nick said.

“That’s what my mom says. Kent says I’m a people pleaser.”

Nick smiled faintly.

“What does Ken say?”

Kit’s mouth curved.

“He said I should pretend I don’t speak English.”

A quiet laugh escaped Nick.

“I don’t think that would work.”

“Probably not. Apparently she’s heard me talk before.”

The tension between them eased. Nick adjusted the strap of his backpack again, no longer gripping it as tightly.

Kit’s smile faded into something more serious.

“I’m going to talk to her.”

Nick looked up.

“Why?”

“Because it caused some misunderstanding, obviously.”

“You don’t have to do that because I asked.”

“I know.”

Kit’s gaze remained steady.

“But you were worried?”

Nick hesitated. He could have denied it. He probably should have. There was no safe way to admit jealousy without revealing far more than he intended.

Still, Kit had answered honestly.

Nick lowered his voice.

“A little.”

Something changed in Kit’s expression. It was not the broad smile that usually made his freckles stand out, but something quieter and warmer. For a moment, he seemed to forget about the emptying classroom around them.

“You don’t have to worry,” he said.

Nick’s heartbeat quickened.

He did not know whether Kit meant Madison specifically or something larger, and he was too shy to ask. Before the silence could become unbearable, Mrs. Abrams called from the front of the classroom.

“Gentlemen, unless you plan on cleaning every lab table, I suggest you continue your conversation in the hallway.”

Nick stepped away immediately.

“Sorry.”

Kit picked up his bag.

“We’re leaving.”

They walked into the nearly empty corridor together. The late bell had already rung, and their footsteps echoed against the lockers as they reached the intersection where they usually separated.

Kit slowed.

“You’re feeling better?”

Nick nodded.

“Yes.”

This time, he meant it.

Kit smiled.

The whole hallway seemed to brighten another notch.

“Good.”

Nick watched him walk toward the gym before continuing to the front gate.

For the rest of the evening, he felt lighter. The jealousy had not disappeared entirely, but it no longer felt like a tight knot beneath his ribs. Kit was not interested in Madison. More importantly, he had cared that Nick had been worried.

That did not necessarily mean anything.

Nick was becoming very tired of that phrase.

The rain that had been falling since early afternoon finally stopped, leaving the sidewalks dark and shining beneath a pale evening sky.

Students poured through the front doors in noisy groups, spreading across the courtyard and toward the school gate.

Nick walked beside Will and Tobey. Leah had stayed behind for a student council meeting, so Will had taken advantage of her absence to complain without interruption about the music room’s broken amplifier. Again.

“It cuts out every time I play anything below middle C,” he said. “Do you understand how serious that is?”

Nick shook his head. “Not really.”

“It destroys the emotional range.”

Tobey adjusted the strap of his bag.

“You could play something without emotional range.”

Will looked exaggeratingly offended.

“That would be rude and dishonest.”

They were approaching the school gate when laughter rose from the benches beside the football field.

Nick noticed the group before he heard Jack’s voice. Several boys from the team sat there with their backpacks scattered at their feet. Jack occupied the center of the bench, his jacket hanging open over a black T-shirt, one ankle resting across his opposite knee.

Luke sat near the end of the group.

Nick saw him and looked away.

Maybe they would let him pass.

“Hey, Gay Boy!” Jack’s shout carried across the courtyard.

Nick flinched.

The words struck him before he had time to prepare. Several students nearby turned toward the sound. A few laughed immediately, probably because laughing was easier than risking Jack’s attention.

Jack leaned forward, grinning.

“What are you hurrying home for? Going to get some dick?”

More laughter followed.

For a moment, the courtyard disappeared.

Nick was back in the locker room during freshman year, standing half dressed while Jack’s voice rose above everything else. He could hear metal doors slamming, shoes scraping against the floor, and the sharp laughter that had followed him for months afterward.

His shoulders tightened.

Will stopped walking.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he shouted. “Is that how your only brain cell works? Insulting people for no reason?”

Nick caught his sleeve.

“Let him be, please.”

Will turned toward him.

“But Nick—”

“Please.”

Nick did not want another scene. He did not want Will stepping closer, Jack standing up, or students taking out their phones. He only wanted to reach the gate and keep walking until the school was behind him.

Will’s jaw tightened.

Reluctantly, he turned away.

Before he did, he raised one hand and gave Jack the middle finger.

Jack laughed louder.

“Aw, his boyfriend’s angry.”

Will started to turn around again, but Tobey caught his shoulder.

Then another voice cut across the courtyard.

“Leave him alone, Jack.”

Kit stood several feet from the benches, still wearing part of his practice clothes with a duffel bag over one shoulder. His expression was calm, but there was nothing soft in it now.

Jack spread his hands.

“What? I was just making a joke.”

Kit did not smile. “Don’t be an asshole.”

The laughter around the bench faded.

Jack leaned back as though the exchange bored him.

“Come on. It was just a joke.”

“You’d better lay off the homophobic jokes before I tell Coach.”

Jack’s expression sharpened.

Kit stepped closer.

“If I hear you doing it again, I’ll ask him to suspend you.”

“You can’t get me suspended.”

“Try me.”

The quiet in the courtyard deepened.

Kit did not raise his voice. He did not need to. There was a steadiness in the way he stood that made the warning feel more serious than shouting ever could.

Jack looked away first.

“Whatever.”

Kit’s gaze shifted toward the rest of the group.

For one brief second, it landed on Luke. Luke remained seated. He had not laughed. He had not said anything either.

Something inside Nick sank.

The image was too familiar. Luke standing nearby while Jack made him feel small. Luke watching without joining in. Luke telling himself that silence made him innocent.

Nick tightened his grip on his backpack.

Kit turned toward him. “You okay?”

Nick nodded automatically. “Yes.”

The answer felt empty.

He resumed walking before Kit could come closer. Will and Tobey stayed beside him, one on either side, until they had passed through the school gate and the benches were out of sight.

For several minutes, none of them spoke.

Then Will muttered, “I fucking hate him and his goons.”

Nick knew he meant Jack.

He was not entirely sure Luke had escaped the statement.

That evening, Nick sat at his desk with his homework open in front of him and absorbed almost none of it. He read the same paragraph three times, wrote down two answers he immediately erased, and eventually gave up pretending he was concentrating.

At dinner, his parents talked about their weekend plans. His father mentioned needing to repair something in the garage, while his mother complained about the rising cost of groceries. Nick answered when they addressed him and kept his eyes on his plate.

Afterward, he carried the dishes to the kitchen, went upstairs, and closed his bedroom door.

His phone lay facedown beside his textbook.

It vibrated at eight seventeen.

Nick ignored it.

A minute later, it vibrated again.

He finally turned it over.

The first message was from Kit.

are you okay?

A second message appeared beneath it.

i’m sorry jack said that. he had no right.

Nick read the words twice.

He did not answer.

He was grateful to Kit. More grateful than he knew how to say. But the memory of Kit defending him in front of everyone left him feeling both protected and exposed, as though the entire school had been reminded that Nick needed someone else to stand between him and Jack.

Another notification appeared.

Luke.

i’m sorry.

Nick stared at the message.

A longer one followed.

i should’ve said something. i don’t know why i froze. that isn’t an excuse.

Then another.

kit was right to call jack out. i should’ve done it first.

Nick’s throat tightened.

The final message arrived several seconds later.

i hope you’re okay. i’ll talk to jack. i promise this kind of bullshit won’t happen again.

Nick looked at the screen until the words blurred slightly.

He thought about Luke touching his hand beneath the desk that morning. He thought about the concern in Luke’s face and the way his fingers had rested gently over Nick’s.

Then he thought about Luke sitting on the bench while Jack called him Gay Boy in front of everyone.

Those versions of Luke did not fit together.

Nick locked the phone and placed it facedown again.

He answered neither of them.

The following morning, Luke was waiting beside Nick’s desk when he entered Algebra II. Instead of sitting, he stood with one hand resting on the back of the chair. The easy smile he usually wore was gone.

“Can we talk?”

Nick glanced around the room. Several students had already arrived, though none seemed interested in them.

“About yesterday?”

Luke nodded.

Nick sat down, and Luke took the chair beside him. For a moment, he said nothing. He looked toward the front of the classroom, then down at his hands, rubbing one thumb along the edge of his notebook.

“I was going to talk to Jack,” he said eventually.

Nick waited.

Luke’s jaw tightened.

“But you didn’t.”

“No...”

The answer came quietly.

Nick opened his notebook and looked at the blank page, unsure whether he felt disappointed or simply unsurprised.

“I saw him this morning,” Luke continued. “I thought I could say something, but he was with the others, and I…”

He trailed off.

“You froze again,” Nick said.

Luke looked down.

“Yeah.”

Nick did not know what to say. Part of him appreciated the honesty, but another part remembered Kit standing in front of Jack without hesitation while Luke remained seated on the bench.

“I’m sorry,” Luke said. “For yesterday. And for not talking to him today.”

“You already messaged me.”

“You didn’t answer.”

“I didn’t know what to say.”

Luke nodded slowly. “That’s fair.”

He remained quiet for a moment before adding, “I know saying I’m sorry doesn’t fix it.”

Nick’s fingers rested against the edge of the notebook.

“No.”

Luke flinched slightly, but Nick could not soften the truth for him.

“I want to do better,” Luke said.

Nick looked at him then.

Luke’s expression held none of his usual teasing. He looked embarrassed and frustrated with himself, but beneath that was the same uncertainty Nick had noticed whenever Luke came close to admitting something real.

Nick believed that Luke wanted to be braver. He just did not know whether wanting it would ever be enough.

He looked toward the front of the classroom, where Mr. Daley had not yet arrived.

“My parents are going away Friday evening,” Luke said.

Nick looked at him, surprised by the change in subject.

“And my sister’s staying with a friend.”

“Oh.”

“You could come over.”

Nick remained quiet.

Luke rubbed his thumb against the edge of his notebook.

“We could watch movies. Or do homework, if you want.”

“On Friday?”

“Yeah.”

Nick studied Luke’s expression. There was no teasing in it today. No smirk or playful challenge. He looked almost nervous.

“You can stay over,” Luke added. “Only if you want to.”

The invitation sent a nervous movement through Nick’s stomach.

Being alone with Luke after what had happened at the gate seemed like a bad idea. It also felt like the only chance Nick might have to understand what Luke wanted from him.

The teasing, the touching, and the messages had given him nothing except questions. Perhaps without school around them—without Jack, teammates, or classmates nearby—Luke would finally stop hiding behind jokes.

Nick hesitated.

Then he nodded.

“Okay.”

Relief appeared in Luke’s face.

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

A small smile returned.

“I’ll text you the time.”

Mr. Daley entered before either of them could say more.

The rest of the week passed painfully slowly.

Luke became quieter around Nick, though not distant. He waited for him after class and asked whether he needed help carrying his books, even though Nick had never needed help before. He continued sitting close, but the teasing had softened. It was as though the incident with Jack had taken some of the confidence out of him.

Kit also checked on Nick more than once. He did not mention Madison again, and Nick did not ask. Their chemistry conversations returned gradually to normal, though Kit watched Nick with an attentiveness that felt both comforting and difficult to bear.

On Friday evening, Nick told his parents he was staying at a classmate’s house to study and watch movies.

His mother looked up from the kitchen counter.

“Will Leah be there?”

“No.”

“Will?”

“No.”

“Tobey?”

“No.”

She tilted her head.

“Someone new?”

Nick adjusted the strap of his overnight bag.

“His name is Luke.”

His father looked up from the television.

“Football player?”

Nick paused.

“How do you know that?”

“Your school posts the games online.”

“Oh.”

His father nodded. “Have fun.”

Nick left before either parent could ask anything more.

Luke opened the door almost immediately after Nick knocked. He wore dark sweatpants and a faded blue T-shirt. His blond hair was slightly messy at the front, and there was an unfamiliar nervousness in his expression.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Luke stepped aside.

The house felt different without his family. No footsteps sounded upstairs. No television played in another room. The silence seemed larger than it should have been, filling every corner of the hallway.

Luke led him into the living room, where two bowls of snacks sat on the coffee table beside several cans of soda. A list of movie titles waited on the television screen.

“I didn’t know what you wanted to watch,” Luke said, “so I picked a few.”

Nick looked through them.

Most were movies he had mentioned during their conversations in class.

“You remembered.”

Luke shrugged, though his expression softened.

“You talk sometimes.”

Nick sat at one end of the couch.

Luke sat beside him, leaving a careful distance between them.

They chose a comedy neither had seen. For the first twenty minutes, they watched in near silence. Luke laughed at the louder jokes, while Nick found himself more aware of the empty space between them than anything happening on the screen.

Eventually, both of them reached for the popcorn.

Their fingers brushed.

Nick stopped moving.

Luke did too.

Neither of them pulled away immediately.

The changing light from the television moved across Luke’s face, turning his eyes blue one moment and gray the next.

“I meant what I said,” Luke murmured.

“About Jack?”

Luke nodded.

“I should’ve stopped him.”

Nick looked down at their hands.

“You didn’t laugh.”

“That’s not enough.”

“No… probably not.”

The answer came quietly, but Luke flinched as though Nick had spoken much louder.

“I used to tell myself that if I wasn’t joining in, I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

Nick remembered the locker room. Luke standing several feet away. His expression unreadable while Jack humiliated him.

“You were still there,” Nick said.

Luke looked down.

“I know.”

The movie continued unnoticed in front of them.

Luke withdrew his hand and rested it against his knee.

“I was a coward.”

Nick did not argue.

“I’m trying not to be,” Luke said.

Nick looked at him.

Luke’s expression was open now, stripped of the usual teasing.

“I like being around you.”

Nick’s heartbeat quickened.

Luke continued before Nick could answer.

“I don’t know exactly what that means yet.”

It was not the clear answer Nick had hoped for. It was uncertain and incomplete, but at least it was honest.

“Do you flirt with me?” Nick asked.

Luke’s mouth curved faintly.

“Sometimes.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re cute when you get nervous.”

Nick looked down immediately.

Luke’s smile softened.

“And because I like it when you look at me.”

Warmth climbed into Nick’s face.

“That’s not fair.”

“I know.”

“Do you like boys?”

Luke drew a slow breath.

“I don’t know.”

Nick’s chest tightened.

“I’ve only dated girls,” Luke said. “I’ve never thought about another guy like this before.”

“Like what?”

Luke looked at him for a long moment.

“Like I want to kiss him.”

Neither of them moved.

The sound from the television seemed to fade into the background.

Nick’s pulse beat hard beneath his skin. Every warning Leah had given him returned at once. Luke might be confused. He might enjoy the attention. He might decide tomorrow that none of this meant anything.

But Luke was looking at him without amusement now.

There was no smirk or challenge in his expression.

Only nervousness.

“Are you saying that because you feel sorry for me?” Nick asked.

Luke’s expression tightened.

“No.”

“Because of Jack?”

“No.”

Nick wanted to believe him. He was not sure whether he did.

Luke shifted slightly closer.

“Can I?”

Nick’s breath caught.

He nodded.

The first kiss was softer than Nick had imagined a first kiss would be. Luke leaned in slowly enough that Nick could have stopped him. His lips touched Nick’s with nervous care, warm and brief, and then he pulled back.

For a moment, neither of them breathed.

Luke remained close, searching Nick’s face.

Nick had spent years imagining kissing another boy. In those fantasies, he had always known exactly what to do. He had been calm and confident, never uncertain about where to place his hands or whether he was doing anything wrong.

Reality left him sitting completely still, his fingers curled against his own knee.

Luke drew back slightly.

“Was that okay?”

Nick nodded. “Yes.”

Luke smiled, and something in Nick loosened.

This time, Nick moved first.

Only a little.

Enough for Luke to understand.

Their second kiss lasted longer. Luke’s hand rose to Nick’s cheek, tentative at first, then settled there when Nick did not pull away. Nick could feel the warmth of Luke’s palm against his skin and the faint tremor in Luke’s fingers.

The movie continued playing, forgotten.

Nick’s nervousness did not disappear. It changed into warmth, dizziness, and the strange disbelief that this was actually happening.

Luke Finley was kissing him.

The same Luke who had stood silent in the locker room.

The same Luke who had covered Nick’s hand beneath the desk.

The same Luke who had watched Jack humiliate him and apologized afterward.

Nick did not know which version was the real one.

Perhaps all of them were.

When they separated, Luke rested his forehead lightly against Nick’s.

“I’ve wanted to do that since last Saturday,” he whispered.

Nick’s heart seemed to forget its rhythm.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I wasn’t sure you wanted me to.”

The absurdity of the answer nearly made Nick laugh, though no sound came.

Luke sat back and glanced toward the staircase.

“My room’s more comfortable.”

The suggestion settled between them.

Nick understood what Luke meant, even though neither of them said it directly.

Excitement rushed through him, followed almost immediately by fear. He wanted to follow Luke upstairs. He wanted to stop thinking and let the night become whatever Luke intended.

Then Leah’s warning returned.

Once you fall for him, he could pull away.

Nick looked at Luke.

“What happens after tonight?”

Luke’s expression changed.

“What do you mean?”

“Tomorrow. Or at school.”

For a moment, Luke said nothing. The television continued playing behind them, filling the silence with laughter neither of them was listening to.

Nick lowered his gaze.

“I don’t want to be something you experiment once and then pretend never happened.”

Luke’s face tightened.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“You don’t know what you want.”

“I know I want this.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

Luke looked down at their hands. His thumb moved slowly across Nick’s knuckles, the touch careful enough to make Nick’s chest ache.

“I don’t have everything figured out,” Luke admitted. “But I’m not going to act like tonight didn’t happen.”

Nick searched his face.

“You promise?”

Luke hesitated only briefly.

“I promise.”

The answer should have comforted him.

It did, though not completely. Some small part of Nick remained afraid, but Luke was sitting close, looking at him with a nervous honesty that made it difficult to listen to fear.

Nick wanted to believe him. More than that, he wanted one night in which he did not have to prepare himself for rejection before anything good had even begun.

So he nodded.

“Okay.”

Luke leaned closer again, moving slowly enough to give Nick time to change his mind.

Nick did not.

Luke’s expression was embarrassed but sincere.

“I shouldn’t have suggested going upstairs like that.”

“You didn’t exactly say that.”

“I was thinking it.”

Nick’s face warmed again.

Luke gave a faint, uncertain smile.

“We can stay here.”

Nick nodded.

“Okay.”

Luke restarted the movie because neither of them knew what had happened during the previous half hour. They sat closer this time, their shoulders touching beneath the soft light from the television.

After several minutes, Luke placed his hand palm-up between them.

Nick looked at it.

Then, carefully, he placed his own hand in Luke’s.

Luke’s fingers closed around his.

Straight friends did not hold hands like this.

Nick knew that now.

What he still did not know was what Luke would call them in the morning.

After half an hour, Luke turned to Nick and asked. “Wanna go to my room?”

“You do want to go after all,” Nick said softly.

“Can you blame me?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Let’s go.”

Luke took Nick’s hand and led him upstairs to his bedroom. As soon as the door closed behind them, he guided Nick back toward the bed and kissed him, his lips moving slowly from Nick's mouth to his ear.

"I've wanted to kiss you for so long," Luke whispered, his lips brushing the shell of Nick's ear before tracing a path down his neck.

Nick gasped, arching into the touch as a warm spark shot straight through him. Luke caught the hem of Nick's shirt and pulled it over his head, then shed his own. In moments, their remaining clothes were tossed aside, leaving them skin-to-skin. Luke leaned down, his mouth and hands roaming lower over Nick's chest, leaving a trail of quiet heat in their wake.

"Oh God, Luke," Nick breathed, his voice high and breathy as he yielded to the sensation.

"You taste incredible," Luke murmured against his skin.

He held Nick like someone who had been waiting a long time for this. His hands smoothed down Nick's back, thumbs pressing gently into the muscles along his spine. Nick let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, his body going soft and pliable beneath Luke’s weight.

"I want you so much," Luke admitted, his voice rough.

"Then take me," Nick whispered back, looking up at him. "Make me yours."

Luke paused, his expression turning earnest. "Are you sure about this?"

Nick nodded, the weight of the moment settling over him. He knew what he was stepping into, and he wanted it.

Luke reached into his nightstand drawer and pulled out a small tube. "I have lube," he said, giving a small, reassuring smile as he squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers. "I’ll take it slow. I’ve never done this with a guy before."

Nick shifted onto all fours, his breath catching as Luke’s slippery fingers touched him. It was a completely foreign sensation, and a knot of tension formed in Nick's stomach. He tried to relax, telling himself it was normal, but he still winced when a finger slid inside, stretching him open with a sharp, stinging pressure.

While Nick braced himself, Luke unrolled a condom. Catching their reflection in the wall mirror, Nick's heart hammered against his ribs—the sight of it made him wonder how his body was supposed to adjust.

Luke guided himself forward, pressing gently. He paused the instant Nick went rigid, holding still until Nick exhaled, then pushed a little further.

When he broke through the initial barrier, a wave of pain surged through Nick. He gripped the bedsheet, knuckles turning white as he gasped out loud.

"Shit," Luke muttered, holding completely still. "I'm sorry, Nick. You're really tight. Just try to relax. Tell me if it's too much, okay?"

As Luke pushed deeper, Nick glanced back up at the mirror. Luke’s eyes were half-closed, his face flushed with pure, unfiltered pleasure. Seeing how good it felt for Luke gave Nick something to anchor onto, helping him release a little more of the tension in his hips.

Luke began to move with small, steady strokes. Nick gritted his teeth, sweat dampening his forehead as his body adjusted to the sensation. He closed his eyes, focusing on breathing through the lingering ache.

After a couple of minutes, Luke’s breath hitched, his rhythm growing faster and more urgent. "I'm close," he gasped, his thrusts driving deeper and more deliberate.

The sharp discomfort began to mix with a sudden, deep pressure that sent a strange shudder through Nick's chest. He couldn't help the low whimpers escaping his throat.

"Oh God... hold still," Luke grunted, sinking fully into him one last time.

In the mirror, Nick watched Luke’s expression soften into quiet euphoria as he climaxed. He collapsed forward against Nick’s back, breathing raggedly, staying still for a long moment before slowly pulling away.

Luke removed the condom, tied it off, and tossed it into the trash. He turned back to Nick with a slightly awkward, sheepish grin.

"Hey," he said, patting Nick's shoulder gently. "Are you okay? Sorry I didn't get you off, I just... got totally lost in it. How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," Nick said softly, struggling to find the words. "It was really tight and hurt at first, but... it started feeling okay after a minute."

"I'm completely spent," Luke sighed, sitting back on his heels. "We should probably wash up before going to sleep."

"Yeah. Good idea."

They shared a quiet shower. Even though Nick was still partially aroused, Luke made no move to touch him, which Nick didn't mind.

But once the water was turned off, something began to change.

At first, Nick could not have pointed to any one thing. Luke did not suddenly become cruel, and he never told Nick he needed to leave. There was no argument, no sharp remark, nothing obvious enough for Nick to react to. Instead, the warmth that had been between them seemed to drain away by degrees.

Luke stopped looking at him.

While they got dressed, he kept his attention on whatever was directly in front of him—his shirt, the floor, the clothes he was gathering—moving with a strange concentration that made even ordinary gestures feel deliberate. When Nick said something, Luke answered, but only after a beat, and his replies became shorter each time. The easy familiarity from earlier had disappeared so completely that Nick began to feel as though he had somehow become a guest again.

By the time they returned to the living room, Luke had already put several feet of space between them. He sat down without inviting Nick to join him and picked up his phone, though he barely seemed to look at the screen. His shoulders were tense, his jaw set in a way Nick recognized from school whenever Luke was trying hard not to show what he was thinking.

Nick stayed standing for a moment, waiting for Luke to say something.

He didn’t.

That was when Nick understood that the distance was not accidental. Luke was retreating into himself, closing something that had been open only minutes earlier, and Nick had no idea whether he was supposed to follow him there or pretend he had not noticed.

So he chose the easier option.

“I should probably head home.”

Luke looked up then, but only briefly.

“Yeah. Okay.”

The answer hurt more than Nick expected.

He nodded, collected his things, and told himself he understood what was happening. Luke was scared. Confused. Maybe regretting everything already.

Nick could make sense of that.

What he could not yet understand was how quickly someone could make you feel wanted and then make you feel as though you had imagined the whole thing.

At the front door, Nick hesitated.

Part of him still hoped Luke would say something.

Luke opened the door.

“I’ll see you,” he said.

Nick looked at him.

“Yeah.”

He stepped outside.

The night was colder than he had expected. The air carried the damp smell of pavement and fallen leaves, and most of the houses along the street were already dark. Nick walked quickly at first, keeping his head down and both hands buried in his jacket pockets.

He made it to the end of the block before the first tear slipped down his cheek.

Nick wiped it away immediately.

Then another came.

By the time he reached the next street, he could no longer stop them. He walked home with his vision blurring beneath the streetlights, breathing carefully whenever a car passed so no one would notice the boy crying alone on the sidewalk.

He did not fully understand why he was crying.

Nothing had been said. Luke had not rejected him outright. He had not laughed, insulted him, or told him the night had been a mistake.

But that might have been easier.

Instead, Luke had simply withdrawn, leaving Nick alone with the terrible feeling that something important had happened only to him.

Nick cried the whole way home.