Array
(
[text] =>
Christmas Day 2017
Luke awoke to the sound of faint holiday music drifting up from the kitchen. It was his mom’s usual Christmas playlist, all sleigh bells and cheesy harmonies. The smell of pancakes hit him as soon as he rolled out of bed. His hair was a mess but he didn’t care. He grabbed his towel and opened his door, only to nearly crash straight into Gabe in the hallway.
“Bathroom,” Gabe said, pointing.
Luke’s eyes narrowed. “Me first.”
Gabe gave him a look. “I called dibs.”
“You can’t call dibs on hygiene!” Luke snapped, darting past him and slamming the bathroom door shut just before Gabe’s hand hit the knob.
“LUKE!” Gabe shouted, banging on the door. “You’re the worst! Mom! Luke’s being an ass again!”
Luke laughed through the sound of running water, taking his sweet time just to annoy him. “Patience is a virtue, big brother!”
“You’re adopted!” Gabe yelled back.
“Good. Maybe my other family lets people shower in peace.”
“Fuck you, squirt!”
Luke laughed louder.
By the time Luke finally stepped out, towelling his hair dry, he was grinning. He swung the bathroom door open, then froze. Because there, standing just a few feet away in the hallway, was Young. Shirtless. For a moment, both of them just stared at each other like idiots.
“Oh, uh, good morning,” Luke stammered.
“Morning,” Young said, equally startled.
“Umm…Merry Christmas,” Luke mumbled.
Young’s cheeks tinted pink, though he managed a small, awkward smile. “Merry Christmas, Luke. Sorry, didn’t think anyone would be up yet.”
“You didn’t hear Gabe yelling at me?” Luke cocked his head to one side.
“I’m a pretty heavy sleeper.”
“Right,” Luke nodded.
Young also nodded, pursing his lips.
Luke quickly stepped aside, suddenly very aware that he was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and a damp white T-shirt that clung to his skin. “Uh, yeah. Shower’s free.”
“Thanks,” Young said, slipping past him. Luke caught the faint smell of his shampoo as he disappeared into the bathroom, and he had to stop himself from thinking about it too hard.
Jesus Christ, Youngjae was so fucking hot.
By the time Luke made it downstairs, his mom had just about finished flipping the pancakes. She was humming aimlessly, a smile at her lips. His dad was also in the kitchen. He was reading the paper with furrowed eyebrows. The sight made something warm settle in Luke’s chest.
“Morning,” he said sweetly.
“Ah, my favourite child,” dad said happily, looking up.
Luke rolled his eyes playfully. “Don’t lie to me.”
“Would I ever?” dad grinned.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” his mom said, turning to kiss his cheek.
“Merry Christmas,” Luke grinned, kissing her back before leaning over to hug his dad from behind. “Can we open presents yet?”
“After breakfast,” his dad said, pretending to glare but smiling anyway.
Luke groaned dramatically, dropping into his chair just as Gabe trudged in, still glaring at him from the bathroom showdown.
“What?” Luke asked innocently.
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
“Do.”
“Don’t.”
“Do!”
“DON’T!” Luke yelled.
“Boys!” Mom snapped.
They both looked over at her and clamped their mouths shut.
She sighed and shook her head. “You two never change.”
“Wouldn’t be Christmas if we did,” Luke said with a grin.
Young walked in a few minutes later, his hair now damp and curling faintly at the edges. He wore one of Gabe’s hoodies. It was grey and a little too big on him, but somehow he made it look good. Luke pretended not to notice, stabbing at his pancakes like they’d offended him.
“Merry Christmas everyone,” Young said, sliding into the chair beside Gabe.
“Merry Christmas, honey,” Mom said warmly. “Sleep okay?”
“Yeah,” Young said, offering a polite smile. “Thanks again for letting me stay here.”
“Of course,” Luke’s dad said. “You’re always welcome here, you know that. I kinda just wish we had a spare bedroom so you didn’t get lumped sleeping with that lawnmower.”
Gabe gasped. “I do not snore, Robert!”
Dad glared at him. “Only Young has the privilege of calling me by my name.”
Gabe pouted childishly.
As everyone started eating, the kitchen filled with soft chatter and the clinking of forks. Gabe was rambling about some new lacrosse gear, their dad was teasing him for eating like a bear, and their mom was fussing over whether everyone had enough syrup. It all felt so familiar and warm that Luke almost forgot how awkward things could get.
Then his mom asked, gently, “Young, sweetheart, are you planning on visiting your parents at all today?”
Luke immediately looked up.
Young paused mid-bite, setting his fork down carefully. “Um,” he said. “No. I don’t think so. I don’t… think they’d want that.”
The table went quiet for a beat.
“Oh, honey,” Luke’s mom said softly, “I’m sure they’d love to see you.”
“I doubt that,” Young said stiffly.
She swallowed thickly. “Okay but I’m sure they will come around eventually.”
Young smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Luke’s chest twisted uncomfortably. He hated how easily Young brushed it off, like it didn’t bother him at all. Gabe caught his eye briefly and both of them looked away uncomfortably knowing it was all their fault that Young’s family weren’t speaking to him. Sure, their mom hadn’t meant to out him on purpose. But it had happened and it sucked.
After breakfast, everyone moved into the living room. The Christmas tree sparkled in the corner, lights flickering softly. The floor was already crowded with presents, all wrapped in shiny paper and mismatched ribbons.
Gabe immediately flopped down in front of the tree like an overgrown kid. “Alright,” he announced. “Let’s do this.”
Their mom laughed. “You’re worse than Luke.”
“No one’s worse than Luke,” Gabe said, handing out the first few gifts.
Young sat cross-legged on the carpet, still smiling faintly, his fingers fidgeting with the drawstring of the hoodie. He didn’t expect anything—Luke could tell just from the way he kept quietly watching everyone else unwrap theirs.
Then their mom said, “Young, you’ve got some too, you know.”
Young blinked, startled. “Pardon?”
“Of course,” she said, handing him two small packages and one medium-sized one from under the tree. “You didn’t think we’d forget about you, did you?”
“I—” Young looked genuinely flustered. “You guys didn’t have to—”
“Shush,” Gabe said, throwing a balled-up ribbon at him. “Open them.”
Luke watched him unwrap them—new gloves, a cozy sweater, a picture frame of him and Gabe at graduation, and a mug with a dumb Harvard joke printed on it. Young looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself. Honestly, he looked a little overwhelmed.
“Thank you,” he said finally, voice soft. “Really. This means a lot.”
Luke swallowed. He hesitated for a second before clearing his throat. “Um, actually,” he said quietly, fiddling with the hem of his T-shirt. “I… I got you something too.”
Young looked up, startled again. “You did?”
“You did?” Gabe asked, equally as surprised.
“Yeah.” Luke reached under the couch and pulled out a small, slightly crookedly wrapped box. His hands felt clammy all of a sudden. “It’s not much, but, yeah.”
Young took it like it was made of glass, his expression unreadable. For a moment, he just stared at Luke like he couldn’t believe it, before giving him a small, shy smile. “Can I open it now?”
Luke nodded.
Young slowly peeled back the wrapping paper, careful like he didn’t want to ruin it. Inside was a black leather bound journal with a fountain pen. Luke watched his face closely and wondered whether Young would like it, or whether he would think it was stupid. But he saw Young’s face shift from surprise to happiness. “Wow,” the older boy said softly, running his fingers over the stitching. “You remembered.”
“Remembered?” Gabe chimed in, squinting down at the leather journal.
Luke’s face went hot. “It’s nothing,” he said quickly.
Young smiled faintly, still running his fingers along the spine of the journal. “I, uh… I like writing sometimes,” he said, glancing up at everyone. “Random stories mostly. Nothing serious. I just… jot things down when I can’t sleep or when my brain won’t shut up. So this—” he lifted the journal slightly, “—this is actually perfect. I’ve been meaning to start something new.”
There was a pause.
“You write?” Gabe asked, eyebrows shooting up like he’d just heard the most ridiculous thing in the world. “Since when?”
Young laughed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “Since forever, I guess.”
“You never told me that!” Gabe sounded offended.
Young laughed, “You never asked.”
“Well, damn,” Gabe said, still sounding half-shocked. “All this time I thought your big hobby outside lacrosse was annoying Luke.”
“Hey!” Luke protested, but Gabe was still looking at him—only now it wasn’t teasing. It was curious. Because Luke knew. Luke knew about the story writing, the notebook stuffed with messy half-finished stories that Young liked to put his ideas into. He knew about the way Young once said that instead of lacrosse, he wished he could go into writing instead. And Gabe didn’t know that. Gabe, who’d been his best friend for years, had no clue. It was a weird feeling. One Luke didn’t know how to name. Not pride, not guilt, but something that sat uncomfortably between them.
Young must have felt it too, because he quickly added, “It’s nothing fancy. I’m not, like, trying to publish a book or anything.”
“You should,” Luke said before he could stop himself. His voice came out softer than intended. Everyone looked over at him and he flushed. “What? I’m just saying. Anyway. I’m glad you like it,” Luke mumbled, pretending to fuss with some of his own wrapping paper.
“I love it,” Young said simply.
And even though it was just words, the warmth behind them made Luke’s chest feel like it was glowing. A small, folded envelope suddenly smacked him right in the chest, snapping him straight out of his dazed, giddy haze.
“Oi,” Gabe said with a grin, “don’t get too sentimental. You’ve still got one more present.”
Luke blinked, his hands automatically catching the envelope as it slid into his lap. It wasn’t wrapped, just a plain white letter with his name scrawled across it in his dad’s handwriting. “What’s this?” he asked, frowning curiously.
“Just open it,” his mom said softly. Her voice had a waver to it, barely noticeable but enough to make his stomach twist.
He tore the seal open carefully and unfolded the paper inside. His eyes scanned the first few lines, not really processing anything at first, until the words finally clicked.
Surgery Clinic Appointment – Gender Reassignment –Initial Consultation Date Confirmed.
Luke’s breath caught. He read it again. And again. His vision blurred around the edges, the words swimming before his eyes.”What…” His voice cracked. “Wait, this is—” When he looked up, everyone was watching him. Young looked confused, but his mom’s lip was trembling and his dad was smiling through damp eyes. Gabe looked away quickly, rubbing the side of his nose like he was trying to play it cool, but his jaw was tight.
“It’s official,” his dad said with a small smile playing at his lips. “They finally sent the letter. Your first appointment’s in a few months time.”
Luke just stared at him. Then down at the paper again. Then back up. It hit him all at once—like a dam breaking. He gasped, the sound catching in his throat before the tears came. Not the quiet kind either. These were big, ugly, unstoppable tears, spilling faster than he could wipe them away.
His mom was already kneeling beside him, pulling him into her arms. “We’re so proud of you,” she whispered, her voice cracking. His dad’s hand settled on the back of his neck, warm and steady.
Luke clutched the letter like it might disappear if he let go. He couldn’t stop shaking his head, still in disbelief. “I—I didn’t think they’d ever get me in,” he choked out between sobs. “It’s been so long. I thought maybe they forgot about me.”
“They didn’t forget,” his mom said, kissing his temple. “Good things just take time.”
Gabe let out a wobbly laugh from across the room. “God, you’re making me look soft, bro.”
Luke turned his head toward him, eyes red and watery. “You are soft,” he managed, his voice breaking around a laugh.
Gabe rolled his eyes, but his lip was quivering. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”
Luke looked back down at the letter. His chest ached but in the best way. For so long, he’d felt stuck between where he was and where he wanted to be. Every binder, every injection, every late-night talk with his mom about the waitlist—it had all been leading to this moment. It wasn’t the surgery yet. It wasn’t even the operation date. But it was something. It was the start. It was the promise that everything he’d fought for, the identity he’d fought to exist as, was finally being seen. And sitting there, surrounded by his family, eyes wet and cheeks burning, Luke couldn’t remember the last time he felt this whole.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ㅤㅤ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ㅤㅤ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ㅤㅤ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
It was now New Year’s Eve, and Luke’s room was glowing faintly under the cheap string lights pinned above his desk. The air smelled faintly of cheap vodka and fabric softener, and the bass from Gabe’s room thudded faintly through the wall, shaking a framed photo every few seconds.
Luke lay sprawled on his bed, half-listening to the song Eli had picked—a mellow indie track that was trying to fight its way through the wall of muffled music coming from next door.
“Your brother’s music is ridiculous,” Eli huffed, taking a swig straight from the bottle. “What’s he trying to do, host Coachella in his room?”
Luke rolled his eyes, flicking at the empty plastic cup beside him. “It’s his way of asserting dominance in the house. I swear, he can’t let me have one peaceful night with my friends.”
Noah, lounging next to him with his back against the headboard, laughed quietly. “You’re just mad his playlist’s louder than yours.”
“I’m mad because I can’t even hear mine,” Luke shot back, glaring at the wall as if that alone would make Gabe turn it down.
Eli snorted, twisting the vodka cap off. “You know what we should do? Just join them.”
Luke immediately shook his head. “No. Nope. Absolutely not. I refuse.”
“Come on,” Eli coaxed. “Gabe’s probably got food in there. You know he always gets those fancy crisps. Oh, and not to mention that Young’s in there too, probably looking all sexy and—”
“I’m not crashing his party,” Luke interrupted, sitting up a bit, cheeks turning red. Eli snickered at his reaction. “Plus, I don’t wanna give him the satisfaction of us joining him, He’d love that. It’d just prove he’s the ‘cool older brother’ or whatever.”
Eli raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. You stay in your emotional fortress, then.”
“Damn right,” Luke muttered, grabbing his cup and pouring himself another splash of vodka.
Eli shrugged, unfazed, and pulled out his phone. “Whatever, I’ll bring the party to us.” He flopped down onto the beanbag chair by Luke’s desk and started scrolling. A moment later, he hit FaceTime. “Nateeeee,” he drawled as the call connected. “Happy almost New Year, baby!”
Noah laughed quietly, sinking further into the bed until his head rested against Luke’s shoulder. “He’s gonna get drunk and call everyone he’s ever met,” he murmured, his breath warm against Luke’s sleeve.
“Let him,” Luke said, smiling despite himself. “At least he’s not trying to drag me into Gabe’s circus.”
Noah tipped his cup toward him. “To small rooms, bad vodka, and avoiding social contact.”
Luke clinked their cups together. “Couldn’t have said it better.”
Noah’s grin was lazy, his eyes hooded in the soft glow from the fairy lights. He leaned closer, his voice low enough that Eli, who was still laughing at something Nate said over FaceTime, wouldn’t catch it. “You know,” Noah murmured, the corner of his mouth twitching up, “you look really good when you smile like that.”
Luke blinked, his heart jumping before he could stop it. “You’re drunk.”
“Barely,” Noah said, his tone teasing. “But I don’t only say this shit when i’ve had a drink. I like teasing you when you’re sober too.”
Luke swallowed hard, his stomach doing that annoying flip it always did when Noah said things like that. “Knock it off,” he whispered, shooting him a warning look. “Not in front of Eli.”
“What?” Noah tilted his head, pretending innocence. “I can’t say my best friend looks good?”
“Not when you say it like that,” Luke muttered. “He doesn’t know about our… thing.”
“Thing?”
“Shut up, Noah,” Luke barked, elbowing him in the ribs.
Noah yelped but leaned back, hands up. “Fine. Your secret situationship is safe.”
“It’s not a situationship,” Luke shot back automatically, his cheeks burning.
Noah chuckled under his breath, clearly pleased with himself, and took another sip from his cup. Luke, trying to distract himself from how warm his face felt, reached over to his phone and turned their music up. Way up.
Eli groaned from across the room. “Dude, I can’t even hear Nate anymore!”
“Good,” Luke said. “Maybe he’ll hang up.”
Eli gave him an unimpressed look but didn’t move to lower the volume. Within a few minutes, though, the inevitable happened: a loud, irritated bang bang bang echoed from the door.
Luke froze, then sighed dramatically. “Here we go.”
He opened it to find Gabe standing there, arms crossed, looking very much like he wanted to strangle someone. “Do you mind? Some of us are trying to listen to music that doesn’t sound like it was made in a garage.”
Luke arched an eyebrow. “Says the guy whose music literally shakes the walls.”
“That’s because my speaker actually works.”
“Then use headphones,” Luke shot back.
“It’s my house, Luke.”
“Our house, nutjob!”
Before Luke could come up with a retort, another figure appeared behind Gabe. Young’s hair was a little messy, hs hoodie hanging loose around his shoulders. He leaned against the doorframe with an unimpressed look on his face. “Okay, testosterone twins, chill out,” he said. “You’re gonna make your parents come up here to yell.”
Luke crossed his arms. “He started it.”
“Real mature,” Gabe rolled his eyes.
Young ignored that. “Look, we’re heading out in a bit. You should just come with us.”
Eli perked up immediately from where he was sitting on the chair. “Where to?”
“There’s a bonfire out in the field behind the park,” Gabe explained. “Some of our friends from our old lacrosse team are there. Fireworks, music, drinks. It’s gonna be fun.”
Noah sat up straighter, clearly interested. “That actually sounds kind of cool.”
Eli clapped his hands once. “I’m in.”
Luke’s mouth opened. “You don’t even know who’s going!”
“Don’t care,” Eli said cheerfully, grabbing his jacket. “You’re not keeping me cooped up in here when there’s an actual fire to stand around.”
Noah gave Luke a small grin, already slipping on his sneakers. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. It’s New Year’s. Live a little.”
“I thought you said we were going to stay in and not give in to the social pressures of society!” Luke huffed, glaring at his two best friends.
“Who the fuck said that?” Eli grimaced. “Not me. I wanna go out and get fucked up.”
“Yeah, i’m sure your dad will be thrilled when you get arrested again,” Luke shot back.
Eli ignored him.
Noah stood. “Come on, Lukey. Live a little.”
Luke heaved a very large sigh, dragging his hands down his face. “First of all, fuck you. Second…You’re all terrible influences.”
“Yup,” Gabe said smugly. “And you’re coming anyway.”
Luke sighed in defeat, glaring at the smug line of his brother’s mouth. “Only because my friends are.”
Young nodded as he turned to grab his jacket. “Cool. Let’s move out.”
And just like that, the five of them piled down the stairs and toward the front door. The night air hit Luke like a slap as soon as they stepped outside. Fucking hell, it was crisp and cold, full of that sharp promise that came with New Year’s Eve. Their breaths puffed into the dark as they trudged down the icy street, following Gabe and Young toward the park. Eli was already hyped, swinging his bottle of cheap vodka like a torch, shouting something about how “this was going to be the best year yet.”
Noah fell into step beside Luke, close enough that their shoulders brushed now and then. Luke could feel the warmth radiating off him, could smell the faint mix of his cologne and laundry detergent, and he tried, really tried, not to think about it too hard.
“Remind me why I agreed to this?” Luke muttered.
“Because you love me,” Noah said, grinning.
Luke snorted. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“I will,” Noah said with mock sincerity. “You’re the grumpy one, Eli’s the chaotic one, and I’m the charming one. We’re a perfect trio.”
“Charming is debatable.”
Noah bumped his shoulder against Luke’s. “You’ve kissed me enough times to know it’s not.”
Luke’s head snapped toward him, eyes wide. “Noah!“
“What?” Noah laughed, holding his hands up. “Eli’s too busy doing cartwheels up there to hear us!”
“Still,” Luke hissed. “We said no talking about that in public.”
“Relax,” Noah teased, lowering his voice. “Your secret’s safe, Theodore.”
Luke glared, but the corner of his mouth betrayed him with a smile. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“I know,” Noah said smugly. “Okay, but genuine question. What happens if we find somebody else cute tonight?”
“Huh?” Luke frowned.
“Like, let’s say somebody hits on us,” Noah started to say, “do we…what? Tell them to fuck off? Or do we entertain it?”
Luke thought for a moment. “Well…I guess we aren’t really…”
“Exclusive?” Noah finished.
“Yeah, that.”
“So if a girl tries to flirt with me, you won’t freak out?” Noah asked.
Luke rolled his eyes, although something tugged at his chest. “As long as you don’t freak out if a guy tries to flirt with me.”
“I’ll try not to,” Noah said with a shrug.
Luke nodded silently.
Up ahead, Gabe glanced back at them, rolling his eyes. “You two coming, or are we gonna have to drag you?”
“Coming!” Luke called back.
“Yeah, come on little Davies,” Noah grinned. “Keep up!”
Luke tried to laugh, but the word girl coming from Noah’s lips stuck somewhere deep in his chest, snagging like a burr he couldn’t quite shake loose. He walked up ahead and grabbed the vodka bottle from Eli’s hands, then took a long sip just to give his hands something to do.
He knew Noah hadn’t meant anything by it. Not really. That was just how Noah talked. But still, it crawled under Luke’s skin in a way he couldn’t ignore. Because it made him wonder—did Noah only like kissing him because of that? Because somewhere, deep down, Noah could convince himself that Luke wasn’t really a boy? That it didn’t really mean anything because Luke used to be a fucking female?
The thought made Luke’s throat tighten. He hated that his mind went there, hated that he couldn’t just let himself enjoy whatever this was without dissecting it. Noah had been good to him. He was so goddamn kind and patient, even gentle when Luke didn’t expect him to be. He never said anything ignorant or weird about Luke being trans once he had found out. But sometimes, when the night was quiet and the noise of his thoughts took over, Luke couldn’t stop wondering if Noah’s feelings were built on some sort of confusion.
Maybe Noah liked Luke, the person—his jokes, his voice, their banter. But maybe, when they kissed, Noah imagined he was kissing a girl because that’s what Luke used to be.
Luke blinked hard, staring at the dancing flames that were suddenly in front of him, wondering how long he had been zoned out for. He glanced around and realised everyone was also stood staring at the flames in awe. He sighed and looked back the fire. He didn’t want to think negatively about somebody he classed as his best friend. He didn’t want to ruin something that made him feel good, whether they had a name for it or not. But the uncertainty lingered anyway, heavy and sharp. Noah was laughing beside him now about something Eli shouted across the fire, and Luke forced himself to smile, to laugh along. He didn’t want to make it weird. Not here. Not tonight.
Still, deep down, he couldn’t help wondering that if Noah had said if a guy flirts with me, instead of if a girl flirts with me, would Luke have felt different? Would it have meant something else? He didn’t know. And that not knowing was the part that annoyed him the most.
Luke looked around again and saw that there were a few dozen people were already there, some dancing, others huddled around the flames with cups in hand. Someone set off a firework in the distance, the crack echoing through the cool air.
“Holy crap,” Eli breathed. “That looks sick.”
Gabe laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Told you. Stick with the cooler brother.”
Luke rolled his eyes.
After that, the group kind of split up. Gabe and Young went to greet some friends from their old lacrosse team, while Luke Noah, and Eli hung back near the fire. The warmth them nicely, seeping into their frozen hands.
“Okay, I take it back,” Luke said. “This isn’t so bad.”
“Told you,” Noah said, grinning.
“Yeah, yeah,” Luke muttered. “Don’t gloat.”
Eli was already chatting with someone new like the social butterfly he was, and within minutes he was dragged into a drinking game somewhere on the grass. Luke and Noah lingered at the edge of the firelight, watching sparks float up into the sky. The sound of music and laughter filled the air, but there was something quieter about the moment between them.
“You look weird,” Noah said.
Luke blinked, turning to him. “Do I?”
“Yeah.” Noah’s gaze lingered for a moment too long. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“You lying?”
“Maybe,” Luke shrugged.
“Come on, talk to me,” Noah said.
Luke shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, looking away. “I’m fine.”
Noah frowned. “You sure?”
“I’m sure,” Luke threw him a smile. “See any cute chicks yet?”
Noah’s eyes roamed the field and he grimaced. “Nah. Everyone here is ugly.”
“Don’t lie,” Luke rolled his eyes. Then his eyes also scanned the field and he saw a few familiar faces to which he winced at but raised his hand in a wave nevertheless. “Ambers here,” he mumbled, watching as the girl happy waved back at Luke like they were besties.
Noah followed his gaze and also grimaced. “Can’t stand the bitch.”
“Yeah, same.”
“So why are you being so fake with her?” Noah grumbled.
“Because I would rather fake a smile than give people another reason to hate me,” Luke said.
“Forget about what other people think,” Noah said with a frown. “You’re almost 18. Stop trying to make people happy.”
Luke tried to laugh it off, but it came out thin. “Yeah, well, that’s easier said than done.”
Before Noah could respond, someone called out, “Half an hour till midnight!” The crowd erupted into cheers, bottles being raised into the cold air.
“Guess that means more drinking,” Luke said, forcing a grin.
“Hell yeah,” Noah said, and the two went to find Eli again who was currently halfway through trying to chug from a red cup while yelling at someone about his “unmatched stamina.”
“Gimme that,” Luke said, stealing the vodka bottle from Eli before he could spill it.
Eli gasped dramatically. “Thief!”
“You’ve had enough,” Luke said, rolling his eyes.
Noah laughed, leaning against Luke’s shoulder. “You’re like his babysitter.”
“I basically am,” Luke said, taking another shot.
That’s when he noticed Gabe and Young approaching. His older brother was laughing loudly, clutching a tennis ball in one hand. “Yo!” Gabe shouted. “We’re playing fake lacrosse! Winner gets the last bottle of rum!”
“Fake lacrosse?” Eli repeated. “What the hell is that?”
“No sticks, no rules, just hands!” Gabe yelled, throwing the tennis ball high into the air before running after it like an overgrown child. Everyone laughed and joined in, stumbling over each other in the frost-covered grass.
Young stayed back at first, standing next to Luke. His hair was a little messy from the wind, and his cheeks were pink from the cold. “You’re not playing?” he asked.
Luke did a double take. He wasn’t sure why, but he was kinda shocked Youngjae was talking to him right now. All out in the open like this. In front of Gabe. But then Luke hesitated and realised that it would be more awkward and suspicious if they completely ignored each other seeing as if Youngjae had been staying at the Davies home the whole winter break because his own parents had basically disowned him. Luke decided that he could indulge the older boy in a simple conversation. He shook his head. “Nah, not really in the mood to get tackled by drunk people.”
Young laughed lightly. “Yeah, fair enough.”
The sound of his laugh hit Luke harder than he expected. God, it was so warm and familiar, pulling him right back into a place he thought he’d outgrown. He could feel his pulse quicken when Young glanced sideways at him, smiling softly like old times.
“You look good,” Young said casually.
Luke felt his face heat instantly. “Thanks,” he muttered, trying not to sound flustered. “You too.”
Noah, who had been standing a few feet away, looked over briefly. His expression was unreadable as his gaze flicked between Luke and Young. Luke mentally scolded himself to act casual. He tried to remind himself that Noah knew about his dumb situation with Young and he didn’t want to make a fool out of himself. He schooled his expression and acted natural.
“Wanna take a walk?” Young asked after a moment, nodding toward the tree line just past the field. “It’s loud as hell out here.”
Luke hesitated. “A walk?”
“Yeah,” Youngjae shrugged. “I play enough lacrosse at Harvard. Might be nice to not see it for a little while, right?”
Luke thought for a second, but something in Young’s tone made him nod. “Yeah, sure.”
Young smiled faintly and started walking ahead.
Luke turned back to hand Eli the bottle of vodka back, and when he did, he caught Noah watching him. Not glaring, not angry…just quiet. Blank. The kind of look that made Luke’s stomach twist uncomfortably. He wanted to say something, to explain that it wasn’t a big deal. That it was no big deal. It was just Young. But before he could, Youngjae called his name again, and Luke forced himself to tear his gaze away from Noah and follow after him. The noise of the bonfire faded behind them as they walked toward the dark edge of the trees, leaving the laughter and chaos and Noah’s unreadable stare behind.
The field lights and laughter dimmed behind them as Luke followed Young toward the treeline. The air was sharper out here and cold enough that Luke’s breath puffed visibly in front of him. The bonfire crackled in the distance, the smell of smoke clinging to everything.
Young shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and gave Luke a faint smile. “Didn’t think I’d actually find some peace and quiet tonight,” he said.
Luke laughed softly. “Pretty sure the universe has something against peace and quiet.”
For a few moments, they just walked slowly. The moonlight hit Young’s face in this soft, silvery way, and Luke had to look away before he got caught staring.
Then Young said, “Oh, by the way…I already used your gift.”
Luke blinked. “Huh?”
“The journal,” Young said, his grin turning a little sheepish. “Couldn’t resist. I thought I’d at least wait till I went back to college to start writing in it, but I caved.”
Luke smiled, a little warmth sneaking into his chest. “You actually wrote something?”
“Just ideas for now,” Young said, kicking at a rock with his shoe. “Some story concepts I’ve had in my head for a while. It felt weirdly good to put them down on paper. Like… less messy, you know?”
Luke nodded. “Yeah. Writing kind of makes everything make sense. Or at least makes it easier to pretend it does.”
Young nodded. “Exactly. And I’m guessing you’re into your usual angsty teen drama genre? Tragic endings and unreliable narrators?”
Luke made a face. “Don’t call me out like that.”
“So you do like that kind of genre,” Young teased.
“Okay, fine. I do.” Luke smirked. “I can’t help it, though. I like stories that hurt a little. The ones that don’t wrap everything up in a bow.”
“Of course you do,” Young said. “You’ve always been like that.”
“Like what?”
“You find meaning in heartbreak.”
Luke tilted his head. “And you? Let me guess…you’re obsessed with sci-fi epics.”
“Guilty,” Young said without hesitation. “If it doesn’t have an alien civilisation or a morally gray captain, I’m not interested.”
Luke snorted. “I don’t know how you read that stuff without falling asleep.”
“That’s because you have the attention span of a squirrel,” Young said.
“I do not,” Luke shot back, offended.
“You do,” Young said. “But it’s okay. You make up for it by being a genius.”
Luke rolled his eyes but smiled anyway. “I’m not a genius.”
“You’re literally valedictorian,” Young said, bumping his shoulder against Luke’s. “You’re giving the speech this year, aren’t you?”
Luke hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Guess so. How did you know??”
“Gabe mentioned.”
“He told you?” Luke frowned.
Young nodded.
“You guys find the time to talk about me?” Luke scoffed.
“Believe it or not, you brother talks about you a lot.”
“What? Luke frowned. “He…he does? Why?”
“Why not?” Young asked casually. “You mean a lot to him. Of course he would share your achievements.”
Luke flushed but tried to play it off cool. “But why would he tell you?”
“Again, why not?” Young asked. “Didn’t you say I’m part of your family?”
Luke didn’t really have a response for that, because yes he did. In fact, they all did. Especially his mom and dad. They constantly reminded Young that he was part of the family and Luke just had to roll with it
Young’s smile softened. “It’s a big deal, Luke. Ya know, becoming valedictorian. You should be proud of yourself. You’re smart and you’ve worked your ass off for it.”
Luke’s throat tightened a little at that. “Yeah, I guess I did. Feels weird though. Like I’m supposed to be proud, but I just feel… nervous.”
“About the speech?”
“About everything,” Luke said with a weak laugh. “Graduating, leaving this town, the whole future thing. It’s—” he waved a hand vaguely “—a lot.”
Young nodded thoughtfully. “You’ll handle it. You always do.”
“You sound so sure.”
“I am,” Young said simply. “You’re Luke Davies. You always figure things out, even when it looks like you won’t. You’re a tough-willed asshole when you wanna be.”
Luke didn’t know what to say to that, so he just looked down, kicking the dirt with his shoe. The sounds from the field started to carry again. And then, through it all, came the faint but unmistakable sound of a crowd beginning to chant.
“Ten!”
Luke’s head lifted.
“Nine!”
Young looked back toward the bonfire, where the countdown had begun. “Guess it’s almost midnight,” he said with a small laugh.
“Eight!”
Luke swallowed, his heart suddenly racing. He realised how close they were, the way the cold had drawn them nearer without meaning to.
“Seven!”
There was no one else around. Just the two of them. Just Young, smiling softly with that familiar warmth that had once made Luke feel like the world could stop spinning and it wouldn’t matter.
“Six!”
He could hear his pulse pounding in his ears.
“Five!”
Young’s gaze flicked toward him, steady and searching. There was a question in it, unspoken but heavy in the air.
“Four!”
Luke’s mouth went dry. He knows what happens at midnight, he thought. Everyone knows.
“Three!”
Young’s voice was quiet now, almost teasing. “You’re thinking too much again.”
“Two!”
Luke forced a shaky laugh. “Maybe.”
“One!”
The cheers exploded from the field. Luke saw the fireworks, heard the laughter and voices shouting “Happy New Year!” But out here, it was like time froze. Luke stood still, his pulse thrumming in his ears, the distant noise muffled under the heavy thud of his heartbeat. Young’s eyes were on him, warm and unreadable, steady in the glow of the firelight flickering through the trees. For a second, Luke forgot how to breathe. And then, before he could even think, Young leaned forward.
It was soft and careful, his lips brushing against Luke’s in the cold night air. Luke froze for half a heartbeat, then melted into it, his chest soaring, mind blank except for the dizzy warmth of it all. He didn’t care that his hands were trembling as they settled on the sides of Young’s face, or that his heart felt like it might explode in his chest as he felt Young’s arms circle his waist and pull him closer. He didn’t even mind that his neck was craned at a dumb angle because Young was so much taller than him. All that existed in that moment was this. The spark of something real and terrifying and impossibly good.
When Young finally pulled back, they just stared at each other, breath clouding between them. Luke’s skin tingled, his entire body alive with the memory of it. For a second, he swore he could still feel Young’s lips against his.
Then, suddenly, it hit him.
Luke’s eyes widened. “Wait,” he breathed, the sound barely audible over the distant fireworks. “You have a boyfriend.” The words came out sharper than he meant them to, his voice breaking halfway through. His stomach dropped as he took a half step back, his chest twisting painfully. “Oh my god, you just—you just cheated, Youngjae, what the hell is wrong with you? You have a boyfriend, for crying out loud. I mean, you have a—”
Young’s expression faltered, then softened. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish, a little uncertain. “I don’t,” he said quietly.
Luke blinked. “What?”
“I broke up with Ryan,” Young said, eyes flicking down to meet his. There was a tiny, nervous smile tugging at his mouth. “A couple weeks ago. Maybe a month ago.”
Luke’s heart was still racing. “What?”
“Yeah,” Young shrugged. “We’re not together anymore.”
Luke breathed out slowly. “Why?”
Young hesitated, then let out a quiet breath that fogged in the air between them. “Because I was too busy thinking about somebody else.”
Luke’s breath caught. The world around them blurred into nothing. “You mean…” he started, voice barely more than a whisper.
Young’s smile deepened, soft and a little sad. “Yeah,” he said simply. “I couldn’t stop thinking about a bratty little senior who leaves me feeling confused and angry half the time.”
Luke just stared at him, speechless, his heart stuttering like it didn’t know what to do. He wanted to say something but the words tangled up somewhere between his throat and his chest. All he could manage was a shaky laugh, his cheeks burning, his body still humming from the kiss.
The sound of fireworks crackled above them, painting the sky gold and blue. Young smiled again, that familiar gentle smile that made Luke’s whole world tilt, and for once Luke didn’t care who saw them, or what it meant, or how complicated it would be later. Because right now, in this moment, it was just him and Young.
Luke’s head was spinning and he could still taste the warmth of Young’s lips, still feel the echo of his words. His heart was going a hundred miles an hour, and suddenly the space between them felt unbearable. He didn’t even think this time. He just moved and leaned forward and kissed the older boy again. It wasn’t hesitant like before. This time it was hungry and desperate, a release of everything that had been bottled up for too long. Young made a small sound against his lips, startled but quick to respond, his hand finding Luke’s jaw and pulling him closer.
The cold didn’t matter. The noise from the bonfire didn’t matter. All Luke could focus on was the feeling of Young’s mouth finally on his, the warmth of him against his skin, and the way his heart stuttered every time Young exhaled against his skin. It was dizzying, messy and perfectly real.
Young’s hand slid up to rest against the back of Luke’s neck, his thumb brushing just below his hairline. Luke melted under the touch, pressing closer until there was no space left between them. Their tongues darted out and Luke forgot to breathe for a second. For a few blissful seconds, it was like the world had narrowed down to just this. Fireworks, cold air, and the boy he never stopped thinking about.
Then a loud cheer erupted from the bonfire, the sound of voices shouting, bottles clinking, music blaring again. The spell shattered instantly. Both of them broke apart, breathless, their chests rising and falling in sync.
Luke laughed quietly, the sound shaky and bright.
Young smiled, but there was a flicker of panic in his eyes. He glanced toward the field, then back at Luke. “We can’t let Gabe find out about this.”
Luke blinked, still trying to catch his breath. “Why not?”
“Because he’ll kill me,” Young said flatly. “You know he will. And I can’t exactly blame him.”
Luke frowned, his head still spinning, but he could see the worry etched in Young’s face. He sighed and nodded slowly. “Yeah… okay. Fine. We’ll keep it quiet.” Young searched his face, almost like he didn’t believe him, and Luke forced a small grin. “Don’t look so scared. Your secret’s safe with me.”
That earned him a laugh. Soft, relieved, and a little shaky. “Good,” Young said. He stepped back, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, trying to look casual even though his cheeks were pink and his lips were still slightly parted. “Good.”
Luke bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling too wide, but he couldn’t help it. He felt lightheaded. Giddy. Like he was standing on the edge of something new and terrifying and good. From down by the bonfire, Gabe’s voice carried across the field, yelling something incoherent but unmistakably brotherly.
Luke snorted. “Too late,” he muttered. “I think the monster’s already looking for us.”
Young grinned, tugging Luke’s sleeve as they started walking back. “Then we better act natural.”
“Right,” Luke said, trying to steady his heartbeat. But as they got closer to the light, he couldn’t stop glancing at Young, and every time he did he felt that same giddy warmth all over again.
[text_hash] => d0cb3fe6
)