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Luke’s 18th Birthday 2018
Luke woke up to sunlight streaming through his curtains and the smell of something buttery and sweet wafting up the stairs. He blinked at the clock on his nightstand. 9:13am. He yawned and stretched, grinning to himself when he remembered what day it was. His eighteenth birthday. No school. No assignments. Just him, a Saturday morning, and a kitchen that clearly smelled like pancakes. His favourite.
When he came downstairs, the sight waiting for him made his heart feel full. His mom had gone all out. There were a tower of pancakes in the middle of the table, some scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, fruit, and a huge “18” balloon taped to the wall behind the table. His dad was wearing a ridiculous party hat and pretending to blow a noisemaker that barely worked.
“Happy birthday, big man!” his dad said, clapping him on the shoulder so hard Luke almost dropped the plate he was reaching for.
His mom kissed his cheek and set down a mug of hot chocolate in front of him. “Eighteen,” she said, shaking her head. “How did that happen so fast?”
Luke grinned. “Genetics and time, I guess.”
She swatted him gently with a napkin, laughing. “Smartass. Eat before it gets cold.”
“Thank you,” he said warmly.
They ate together, his parents teasing him between mouthfuls, telling stories from when he was little. Like the time he’d cried because he thought a piñata was alive, how he’d insisted on wearing a cape to kindergarten for a whole month. He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop smiling.
Then came the presents. There were new clothes, some books, a new pair of headphones, and a sleek leather messenger bag for college. “You’re an adult now,” his dad had said proudly, “gotta look the part.”
“I’m gonna be a college kid, not a lawyer,” he tried to say.
But his mom waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t knock it till you try it. You want people to take you seriously in the real world.”
“Or bully me,” he teased.
“Hush!” she scolded.
“I told you he would think it was lame,” dad grumbled.
“No, Robert. He doesn’t think it’s lame. He just hasn’t had a chance to wear it yet,” she said, looking down at the messenger bag with pride. “It’s beautiful and I guarantee it’ll be perfect.”
“Mhm,” Luke hummed, looking down at the bag with a grimace, although he couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath. God, he loved his parents with everything he had in him.
After breakfast, Luke went up to his room and flopped onto his bed for a while, scrolling through the dozens of birthday texts that had come in overnight. Somewhere between messages from classmates and an embarrassing Facebook post from his aunt, a FaceTime call popped up on his screen. Gabe. Luke grinned and hit accept.
“Hey, old man,” Gabe said the moment his face appeared, his hair sticking out in every direction. “Eighteen already. You gonna start complaining about back pain next?”
Luke laughed. “Shut up. You’re only a few years older than me.”
“Yeah, but I’m cooler so it cancels it out.”
“You wish.”
Gabe smirked. “So, birthday breakfast as epic as usual?”
“Dude, you have no idea,” Luke said. “Mom basically made a buffet.”
“Classic Mom,” Gabe said, smiling softly. “How’s Dad holding up? Bet he’s pretending not to get emotional.”
Luke snorted. “He’s fine.”
Gabe leaned closer to the camera. “You get anything good?”
“Yeah, actually,” Luke said, reaching for his new bag and holding it up. “They got me this for college.”
“Damn,” Gabe said, whistling. “Look at you, Mr. Mature.”
Luke grinned. “Trying to catch up to you.”
“Don’t bother, I peaked at nineteen,” Gabe deadpanned.
They both laughed.
After a pause, Gabe’s voice softened. “Hey, seriously though…happy birthday, Luke. I wish I could be there. You deserve the best day ever.”
Luke smiled, feeling a lump rise in his throat. “Thanks. I miss you.”
“Miss you too, squirt.” Gabe smirked again. “Just don’t do anything too stupid, alright? You’ve got that ‘I’m legal now’ look in your eyes.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “I’ll be fine. Noah’s coming over later anyway.”
“Good. Tell them I said hi. And tell Eli to stop tagging me in weird memes on instagram or i’ll block him.”
Luke hesitated. “Actually, it’s just Noah.”
“What d’you mean?”
“Like, i’m only hanging out with Noah.”
Gabe frowned. “You guys had a falling out with Eli?”
“No, no, of course not,” Luke rushed to say. “But Noah suggested we do something…alone. Ya know? Just us.”
Gabe slowly sat up and Luke winced as he realised what was about to happen. His brother was about to go into protective older brother mode and ask a million questions.
Gabe narrowed his eyes. “Alone? As in, like… a date alone?”
Luke groaned. “Oh god, don’t say it like that.”
“What? I’m just trying to clarify here,” Gabe said, voice rising slightly as he leaned closer to the camera. “Because if you’re saying what I think you’re saying, that’s a big deal, Luke.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Luke said quickly, rubbing a hand over his face. “He just wants to hang out, okay? It’s not like that.”
Gabe arched an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. And you believe that?”
Luke sighed. “He’s my best friend.”
“Right,” Gabe said slowly, in that tone that meant he didn’t believe a word. “Your friend who you’ve been kinda… I don’t know… hanging around with all the time lately. And texting until two in the morning. And blushing over, clearly. And—”
“Stop,” Luke interrupted, glaring. “You sound like Mom when she’s trying to find out if I’m seeing someone.”
“Are you?” Gabe asked sharply.
Luke hesitated. “No.”
Gabe’s face looked like he didn’t believe his younger brother. “I’m just saying, if this Noah hurts you, I’m driving down and breaking his legs. Respectfully.”
Luke laughed despite himself. “You’re insane.”
“Protective,” Gabe corrected. “There’s a difference.”
“You gonna do this to all the guys I date?” Luke asked dryly.
“Aha!” Gabe gasped. “So it is a date.”
“Gabe,” Luke groaned.
Gabe frowned. “Are you into him?”
The question hung in the air. Luke opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it again, his heart giving a weird little skip. “I don’t know,” he said finally, quieter. “I like him. He’s… easy to be around. Apart from Eli, nobody’s ever really seen me. Ya know? But I don’t know what this is.”
Gabe’s expression softened a little. “That’s okay. You don’t have to know yet.”
Luke nodded, staring down at his lap.
“But,” Gabe added with a smirk, “if it is a date, maybe put on a clean shirt for once.”
“Shut up,” Luke said.
“I’m serious! You’re eighteen now. Gotta look presentable for your… totally not a date.”
Luke shook his head, but he couldn’t stop the tiny smile tugging at his mouth. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously supportive,” Gabe said.
Luke rolled his eyes again, but the warmth in his chest didn’t go away. “Thanks, Gabe.”
“Remember, no kissing until I approve the guy!”
“I’m hanging up now,” Luke groaned.
“I gotta run to practice anyway, but I’ll call you again later. Maybe we can open your gift on camera.”
“You got me something?”
“Obviously.” Gabe winked. “It’s not as cool as top surgery paperwork, but it’s up there.”
Luke laughed. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“Happy birthday, Luke,” Gabe said again, smiling wide.
Luke felt something warm swell in his chest. “Thanks, Gabe.”
And when the call ended, he just sat there for a while, staring at his reflection on the black screen, smiling like an idiot… because for once, everything in his life actually felt okay.
Luke was halfway through rummaging through his closet trying to find something decent to wear for tonight when there was a knock on the door. He froze, a T-shirt half over his head. “Uh, come in?”
His dad stepped inside, holding two mugs of coffee—one for himself, one he placed on Luke’s desk. “Hey, bud. You got a minute?”
Luke immediately groaned. “Oh god. What did Gabe tell you?”
His dad gave him that unreadable dad look, half serious and half amused. “Well, he may have mentioned that you’ve got plans with a boy today.”
Luke pulled the shirt the rest of the way on and buried his face in his hands. “I’m going to kill him. He’s a traitor.”
“Hey,” his dad said. “Don’t be too hard on him. He just cares about you. We both do.”
“I know,” Luke muttered, sitting on the edge of his bed with a huff. “But seriously? The second I tell him anything, he goes full TMZ.”
His dad sat down at the edge of the bed too, his hands clasped in front of him with a serious look on his face. “Look, I’m not here to embarrass you.”
“Then maybe don’t do the talk,” Luke said, eyes wide.
“I’m not doing that talk,” his dad said quickly, grimacing. “Trust me, I’m not equipped for that. But—” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re eighteen now. You’re figuring things out. And whoever this boy is, just… make sure you’re being treated right, okay? That he’s kind to you. That you feel like yourself around him.”
Luke huffed. “Dad, it’s just Noah.”
Dad blinked. “Noah Lowthorp?”
“Yeah,” Luke grumbled.
“Oh,” Dad frowned. “I didn’t realise the two of you were…”
“We’re not,” Luke said quickly, feeling mortified. “I mean, not really. We’re just friends.”
“Have you guys kissed?” dad asked without an ounce of shame.
Luke groaned, throwing his head into his arms.
“Tell me,” dad demanded. “I won’t judge.”
“Yes, okay?” Luke snapped, cheeks red. “Yes, we’ve made out a few times. But it’s nothing, really. We’re just friends. He’s not even gay.”
Dad frowned. “Do straight people often kiss somebody of the same gender?”
“Dad,” Luke sighed, “come on. Don’t make it weird.”
“I’m only looking out for you, Luke. Does Noah respect you? Or is he just taking you for a ride? Because you say he’s not gay, and yet you also tell me you’ve kissed him before. And now the pair of you are going out tonight alone without Eli? This is big stuff,” dad said sternly. “Just tell me the truth…does Noah treat you nicely?”
Luke softened, realising that his dad really did just care about whether he was being treated nicely or not. “Yeah. He does treat me nicely, dad. He’s a good guy.”
“Then that’s all I care about,” his dad said with a sigh. “You deserve good people around you, Luke. People who make you wanna be happy. I’m glad Noah does.”
Luke swallowed hard, feeling both touched and horrifically awkward. “Okay, but can we stop now before I spontaneously combust?”
His dad laughed and stood up, patting his shoulder. “Fine, fine. Just… be safe, okay?”
“Dad!” Luke groaned, throwing a pillow at him as he left the room.
“Can’t help it! It’s in the manual!” his dad called down the hall.
The second the door shut, Luke dropped back on his bed, exhaling loudly.
His phone then buzzed on the nightstand.
Noah: I’m outside. Don’t keep me waiting, birthday boy.
Luke’s stomach flipped.
He sat up, checked himself in the mirror. He had decided on a plain white T-shirt and a dark denim jacket. His hair was mussed up in that slightly messy way that Noah always said he liked. He looked good, if he did say so himself. He quickly grabbed his phone and wallet.
“Okay,” he muttered to himself, heart pounding. “Totally not a date. Just two friends hanging out. Totally. Not. A. Date.” Even though he was the one who put the D word out there in the first place. Stupid. So, so stupid.
He took a deep breath and headed downstairs toward the door where Noah’s car was already parked at the curb, music faintly playing, sunlight catching on the windshield.
The first hour felt… normal. Perfectly, comfortably normal.
Luke and Noah had started their “not-date” at the little outdoor ice rink on the edge of town. The one with fairy lights strung overhead and hot chocolate stands on every corner. The kind of cheesy, romantic setup that would’ve made Luke cringe any other day, but somehow it didn’t feel that way now.
They laced up their skates side by side, teasing each other the whole time. Noah kept pretending he was a professional hockey player, while Luke accused him of just showing off for the group of girls watching nearby. Noah laughed and shoved him lightly, and Luke pretended to fall dramatically, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded.
“Drama queen,” Noah said, grinning.
“Shut up and skate, Shane Hollander,” Luke shot back with a challenging smirk.
“Who?” Noah asked, confused.
Luke’s jaw almost dropped. “I really need to get you clued up with all the gay lore you’ve missed out on whilst you were pretending to be straight.”
“First of all, I wasn’t ‘pretending’ to be straight. I was straight. Obviously now that’s changed so i’m catching up. But seriously? Gay lore?” Noah furrowed his eyebrows.
Luke snickered. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll give you a whole lesson on it soon. Just skate.”
And so they did. They were looping around the rink, bumping shoulders, occasionally racing just to see who could reach the other side first. Luke lost every time, though Noah insisted it was “only by a little.” It was easy like that, their laughter bouncing off the boards, the cold air stinging their cheeks, the simple kind of joy Luke hadn’t felt in a long time.
Then, halfway through another lap, it happened.
Luke hit a slick patch and his foot slipped out from under him. His arms flailed uselessly, his balance completely gone, and before he could even register the fall, Noah was there. He caught Luke around the waist, pulling him upright just before he hit the ice. For a heartbeat, they just stared at each other. Luke’s breath caught, their faces inches apart, the chill in the air doing nothing to cool the sudden heat that crept up his neck.
“You okay?” Noah murmured, still holding onto him.
“Yeah,” Luke breathed out, his pulse loud in his ears. “I just, uh—”
And then, without warning, Noah leaned in and kissed him. It wasn’t long or planned, just a quick soft press of lips, gentle and instinctive.
Luke blinked, stunned for half a second, then let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”
Noah grinned sheepishly, still holding him steady. “Slipping hazard,” he said. “Had to make sure you didn’t fall.”
Luke laughed again, this time harder, the sound carrying through the cold air. “Right. Totally safety related.”
“Absolutely,” Noah said, smiling. “Gotta protect the cute birthday boy.”
Luke rolled his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips wouldn’t fade. “You’re such an idiot.”
“Yeah,” Noah said. “I am.”
After another half hour of skating and a few more “accidental” slips just so Noah would catch him, the cold started to settle deep into Luke’s fingers and toes. His nose was pink, his hair a little messy from the wind, and he could barely feel his face anymore. When Noah suggested grabbing food, Luke didn’t hesitate.
They ended up at a tiny diner just a few blocks from the rink, the kind of place that looked like it hadn’t changed in thirty years. The neon sign buzzed faintly above the door, and the inside glowed with soft, amber light. A jukebox hummed in the corner, old pop songs playing through speakers that crackled every so often. The booths were worn red vinyl, the tables sticky from years of spilled milkshakes and coffee rings, and the air smelled like fries and syrup and warmth.
They slid into a booth by the window. A waitress with silver hair and bright red lipstick brought them two mugs of hot chocolate, each topped with a mountain of whipped cream. Noah immediately stole Luke’s cherry when he wasn’t looking.
“Hey!” Luke swatted at him. “That’s my cherry!”
“Should’ve guarded it better,” Noah said with a grin, popping it into his mouth.
Luke muttered something under his breath but couldn’t hide his smile as the waitress came back to take their order. They both got burgers and fries. Simple, greasy, and perfect.
For a while, they just talked about random stuff, like school, music, a show they’d both been watching. It was easy again, just like at the rink. But somewhere between bites of fries and sips of hot chocolate, Luke’s mind drifted. He looked up at Noah, who was chewing thoughtfully, and sighed. “I feel kinda bad.”
Noah paused, mid-bite. “About what?”
“Eli,” Luke said. “We didn’t invite him. He probably thinks we ditched him or something.”
Noah swallowed, then leaned back against the booth. “He’s fine. He’s probably just facetiming Nate tonight like he usually does. They’re probably being disgustingly cute.”
“Still,” Luke said, fiddling with the straw wrapper between his fingers. “He’s my best friend. It feels weird doing something like this without him.”
Noah looked at him for a moment. Then he smiled a little, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, I get that,” he said. “You and Eli are best friends. You’re basically joint at the hip. But it’s okay to want to do something for yourself too, you know? Just once.”
Luke looked down at the table, tracing a finger along the rim of his mug. “Yeah,” Luke murmured after a beat. “I guess you’re right.”
Noah smiled again. “I usually am.”
Luke snorted. “Keep dreaming.”
“Don’t have to. I’m living it.”
Luke threw a fry at him, and Noah caught it in his mouth, grinning like an idiot.
The diner’s jukebox hummed a forgotten tune, its melody a gentle counterpoint to the easy rhythm of their conversation. But beneath the surface, a different kind of music was building in Luke’s chest. It felt like a fucking crescendo of unspoken questions, of hopes he hadn’t dared to voice, and fears he couldn’t quite silence. Noah’s smile, so warm and familiar, suddenly felt like a key to a door Luke had been too afraid to open.
He watched Noah take a sip of his hot chocolate, a faint white mustache appearing above his lip as the cream smeared over his. The sight was so utterly Noah. He was so playful and unselfconscious. Almost endearing. And it was this very familiarity that made the question so hard to ask. How did you risk something so precious, so comfortable, for the terrifying unknown?
Luke pushed his half-eaten burger away, the sudden loss of appetite a physical manifestation of his nerves. He picked at a loose thread on the red vinyl booth, his gaze fixed on his fidgeting fingers. The air, which had been so light and easy moments before, now felt thick with unspoken things, charged with a new kind of electricity.
“Noah?” he started, his voice a little rougher than he intended.
Noah looked up, his eyes, the colour of warm honey, meeting Luke’s. The playful glint was still there, but a flicker of something else. Curiosity, perhaps? Or maybe an intuition of the shift in atmosphere.
Luke took a deep breath. He needed to be direct, to cut through the playful banter that had always been their comfortable shield. “About tonight…” He paused, searching for the right words, for a way to articulate the swirling confusion and burgeoning hope inside him. “This… this isn’t just a friend thing, is it?”
The silence that followed stretched, taut and heavy. The jukebox seemed to quieten, the diner sounds fading into a distant hum. Luke’s heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the sudden stillness. He risked a glance at Noah. Noah’s smile had softened, faded into a more thoughtful expression. His gaze was intense, searching Luke’s face as if trying to read the unspoken subtext of his question.
Then, Noah let out a slow breath. “No,” he said, his voice low. “No, it’s not just a friend thing.”
The admission hung in the air. Luke felt a dizzying rush of emotions, a combination of relief and sheer terrifying excitement. He hadn’t dared to hope, not really. But Noah’s words, quiet and sincere, shattered that self-deception.
Noah leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his eyes never leaving Luke’s. “Look,” he continued, his voice gaining a quiet intensity. “I’m not going to lie. I’ve been thinking about you. A lot. More than usual, definitely more than I probably should have been.” He let out a soft chuckle. “It’s been… distracting, to say the least.”
Luke could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, a blush that had nothing to do with the diner’s warmth. The honesty in Noah’s voice was disarming, melting away some of Luke’s own apprehension. “Distracting how?” he managed to ask.
“Just… everything. Little things. How you laugh when you’re really amused, that crinkle at the corner of your eyes. How you get so focused when you’re studying that you chew on the end of your pen like a nervous rabbit. The way your hair falls just so when you’ve been running your hands through it. The way you always manage to say the exact right thing to make me feel better, even when I don’t know what I need to hear.” He paused, a faint flush colouring his own cheeks now. “And… how good it felt to hold you today. To catch you. And also about how much I like kissing you and that keeping it a secret from Eli is getting harder and harder. I don’t wanna ruin our friendship. We’re the three chipmunks, right? But I can’t pretend I don’t want you anymore.”
Luke swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. Noah was laying it all out, a raw, beautiful confession that left Luke breathless. This wasn’t just a casual crush, was it? Fuck. No. This was something deeper, something Noah had clearly been wrestling with too.
Noah reached across the table, his fingers gently brushing against Luke’s. The touch was light and tentative, yet it sent a jolt through Luke. “I don’t know what ‘this’ is exactly, but I know it’s more than just friendship for me. And I… I want to explore it. Properly. If you do too.”
Luke’s mind reeled. This was everything he had secretly wished for, everything he had told himself was impossible. Luke was kind of lonely and all he wanted was to have a relationship like Gabe and Maddy’s, or like Eli and Nate’s. Or even like his parents, who were still completely and ridiculously in love all these years later. And here it was. Here was Noah, a handsome boy who had always been a constant comforting presence, who was now looking at him with an intensity that promised something entirely new, exhilarating and terrifying.
But even as his heart soared, a cold knot of guilt tightened in his stomach. He couldn’t just accept this, not without being completely honest. He thought of New Year’s Eve, the blurry lights, the unexpected kiss with somebody else , the confusion that had followed him ever since. He owed Noah the truth.
He pulled his hand back slightly, breaking the fragile contact, and Noah’s expression flickered with a hint of concern. “Noah… there’s something I need to tell you,” Luke began, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. “About New Year’s.”
Noah’s brow furrowed slightly. He nodded, a silent invitation for Luke to continue.
“When I… when I disappeared that night with Youngjae,” Luke continued, his voice gaining a shaky momentum, “it wasn’t just because I was going for a dumb walk, or because I needed to get away from the crowd.”
Noah looked down at the table.
Luke let out a shaky breath. “We kissed,” he murmured. “Young and I. We kissed.”
The confession hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the hopeful intimacy of moments before. Luke watched Noah’s face, bracing himself for the anger, the disappointment, the hurt. He deserved it. But he never got it. Noah’s expression was unreadable for a long moment. His eyes, which had been so warm, now seemed distant and guarded. He looked up from the table top and held Luke’s gaze, a quiet intensity in his stare. Then, a slow, almost imperceptible nod. “I know.”
Luke’s eyes widened a little before he schooled his expression. “What? How do you know?”
Noah let out a soft chuckle. “You think I didn’t notice the weird vibe between you guys? You think I didn’t see the way he looked at you all night? The way you kept glancing over at him, even when you were talking to me?” He leaned back against the booth. “It wasn’t hard to put two and two together, Luke.”
The casualness of Noah’s tone was almost worse than an outburst. It implied a quiet understanding, a painful observation that Luke had been completely oblivious to. He had been so wrapped up in his own confusion, his own inner turmoil, that he hadn’t considered that Noah might have been watching too.
“I… I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Luke stammered, scrambling for an explanation that sounded less like an excuse. “It was just… the moment. The New Year’s countdown, and he was just there, and…” He trailed off, the words sounding hollow even to his own ears. He knew it wasn’t a good enough explanation. “You know Young and I have this weird history.”
Noah nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard you and Eli talk about it before.”
“Yeah,” was all Luke could mumbled.
Noah’s gaze was still fixed on him, unwavering. “So you kissed him,” he stated, not as a question, but as a simple, painful fact. “Do you like him?”
“I don’t know. I just… I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m so confused.”
Noah sighed, a long weary sound that seemed to carry the weight of disappointment. He leaned forward again, but this time, he didn’t reach for Luke’s hand. Instead, he rested his chin on his clasped hands, his eyes still holding Luke’s, but now they were tinged with a sadness that twisted Luke’s gut. “Confused?” Noah repeated, his voice low. “Well, I guess I can understand that. It’s daunting. I’ve never really done this before either.”
“This?”
“Relationships,” Noah said. “Or…situationships, I guess.”
Luke forced a little laugh.
Noah sighed again. “It’s okay to be confused. Everyone gets a little confused sometimes. But you know what, Luke? I wasn’t confused. Not about you. Not that first night when we kissed, and not tonight either. I know what I want and I’m okay with being honest about it.”
The quiet sincerity of Noah’s words, the raw honesty, was a punch to Luke’s gut. While Luke had been fumbling in the dark with somebody else and experimenting with a fleeting moment, Noah had been clear and resolute and silently hurting.
“I really like you, Noah,” Luke blurted out, the words tumbling out in a desperate plea. “You’re one of my best friends. You’re amazing and we have so much fun together and tonight… tonight felt so perfect. It felt like… like what I’ve always wanted.”
“But what does that mean, Luke? What does ‘perfect’ mean to you now, knowing what happened at New Years with that other guy?” He paused, his gaze intensifying. “And more importantly, what do you want tonight to mean?”
Noah’s question hung in the air. God, it felt like a demand for clarity that Luke felt utterly incapable of providing. His mind was a tangled mess of conflicting desires. He liked Noah. He did. He really did. They were best friends. Noah was so kind and gentle, and yet the fleeting thrill of Youngjae still lingered in Luke’s brain. He opened his mouth, but no words came, just a desperate gasp for air.
Then, a sudden, insistent vibration in his pocket. Luke’s hand instinctively went to his phone, pulling it out. The screen glowed, displaying a name that made his breath hitch. Youngjae. Holy fuck. A jolt shot through him. His gaze flickered to Noah.
Noah’s eyes, which had been fixed on Luke with such intensity, dropped to the phone screen. Luke watched as the initial flicker of disappointment in Noah’s gaze hardened into something colder, a quiet resignation that was far more painful than any outburst. A muscle in Noah’s jaw twitched, and his lips thinned into a tight line.
“It’s… it’s Youngjae,” Luke mumbled, as if Noah hadn’t already seen the name on the screen.
The happiness he’d felt a moment ago curdled into a bitter cocktail of guilt and shame. He looked from the phone to Noah’s face, searching for a reaction or an instruction. Literally anything.
Noah finally met his gaze. “Well,” he said, his voice flat, devoid of its usual warmth. “Answer it. It’s your birthday. He’s probably calling to wish you well. Don’t keep him waiting.”
The forced casualness and the quiet encouragement only twisted the knife deeper in Luke’s gut. He knew Noah was trying to be gracious, trying to be the ‘good friend,’ but the underlying hurt was obvious. It was a silent accusation that made Luke want to sink into the worn red vinyl of the booth. He felt like a complete bastard.
“I… I should probably take this outside,” Luke stammered, already half-rising. He couldn’t have this conversation with Youngjae while Noah sat across from him, silently witnessing it all.
Noah merely nodded, a dismissive gesture that felt like a door slamming shut. “Go ahead,” he said, picking up a stray fry from the basket, his movements slow and deliberate. He didn’t look up as Luke scrambled out of the booth.
Luke practically fled, his phone pressed to his ear, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He pushed through the swinging diner doors, the cool night air a welcome shock against his flushed cheeks. He walked a few paces away from the entrance, needing distance and privacy, needing to escape the silent judgment he imagined radiating from Noah.
He finally answered, his voice a little breathless. “Hello?”
“Hi,” a deep voice called back.
Luke swallowed thickly. “Hi, Youngjae.”
“Happy birthday,” Youngjae said, his voice low but full of genuine warmth. It was exactly as Luke remembered it and it made him smile.
“Thanks,” Luke said, leaning against the cold brick wall of the diner, trying to sound casual, trying to ignore the chaotic emotions swirling inside him. “I… I didn’t think you’d call.”
“Are you kidding? Of course I’d call,” Youngjae chuckled under his breath. “Though, I almost didn’t. Gabe mentioned you were out on a hot date tonight, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”
Luke froze. Gabe. Of course. Gabe, who was apparently a walking talking gossip column. The words “hot date” echoed in his ears, a cruel mockery of the raw, vulnerable conversation he’d just been having with Noah.
“A date?” Luke repeated, his voice thin.
“Yeah, that’s what Gabe said anyway,” Youngjae confirmed. It was quiet between the two for a few seconds before Young spoke up again. “Something about Noah.”
Luke squeezed his eyes shut. This was it. The moment of truth. He could lie and brush it off, maybe pretend it was just a friendly outing. But after everything with Noah, the confessions and the hurt, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was tired of the evasions and the half-truths.
“Yeah. It… its true. Well, kinda,” Luke admitted, his voice barely audible. The words felt heavy, as if he was dropping them onto the cold pavement. “I’m actually with him right now. We went ice skating earlier and now we’re at a diner.”
A beat of silence on the other end, a pause that felt endless. Then, Youngjae’s voice came again, softer now and less boisterous. “Oh. So… it is a date, then?”
Luke swallowed hard, his throat tight. He thought of Noah sitting alone in the diner, picking at fries, his face etched with silent pain. He thought of the kiss on the ice, the gentle press of lips, the promise of something new and terrifyingly wonderful. And then he thought of New Year’s Eve, the blurry fireworks, the intoxicating rush of Youngjae’s lips and tongue against his own, the lingering scent of his cologne.
“I don’t know, Youngjae,” Luke confessed. “That’s kind of the problem.” He pushed himself off the wall, starting to pace, his breath misting in the cold air. “Tonight was amazing. It was everything I could have wanted. Noah… he’s incredible. He’s always been there. And he just told me… he likes me. More than a friend.” He paused, running a hand through his hair, feeling the familiar chaos return. “And I like him too, Youngjae. I really, really do. I think… I think I’m falling for him.”
A shiver ran down his spine, not from the cold, but from the terrifying honesty of his own words. He was actually saying it out loud, admitting the depth of his feelings for Noah, even as he was talking to another boy, a boy who had also kissed him, a boy who was still very much a presence in his mind.
“But…” Luke continued, his voice cracking slightly, “I also can’t stop thinking about you. About New Years. About… about that kiss. Our conversation.” He stopped pacing, staring blindly at the faint reflection of the diner’s neon sign in a puddle on the street. “I’m so confused. I don’t know what to do. I like Noah, but I can’t get you out of my head either.”
The confession hung heavy in the cold night air, a fragile, desperate plea for understanding. He felt exposed and vulnerable, laying bare the messy and contradictory landscape of his heart to a boy who was almost a stranger, while the boy who might be everything he ever wanted sat hurting just inside the diner. He waited, breath held, for Youngjae’s reaction, bracing himself for judgment, for anger, for anything. But all he heard was the distant hum of the city, and the faint, steady beat of his own confused heart.
“I thought we agreed that we would take things slow. No pressure or expectations,” Youngjae eventually said, his voice quiet.
Luke frowned and suddenly felt a hot anger push through his body. “You also said you don’t wanna label it!” he snapped back. “What do you expect me to do? Just wait around for you to realise that i’ve been here the whole time?”
“No, of course not,” Youngjae rushed out. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what?” Luke snapped. “We can’t be together because of our distance and because you’re terrified of what Gabe would say, yet i’m not allowed to go on a date with somebody else? Somebody who is actually showing me attention?”
“I never said you can’t go on a date with somebody else,” Young said firmly.
“You may as well have,” Luke scoffed.
There was a pause. It was an awful, dragging silence that stretched so long Luke could hear his own pulse thundering in his ears. Then, finally, Youngjae spoke again, his voice softer, strained. “Luke, you know it’s not that simple.”
Luke laughed bitterly, pressing the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Yeah, I know. That’s always your excuse, isn’t it? It’s never simple.”
“I’m trying,” Youngjae said quietly. “I really am. I care about you. A lot more than I probably should. But I can’t just—” He broke off, exhaling hard into the phone. “You don’t understand what it’s like with Gabe, or Harvard, or my parents—”
“Oh my god, stop!” Luke interrupted, the words bursting out sharper than he meant. His breath fogged in front of him as he spoke, his voice shaking. “You always do this. You always bring up all the reasons we can’t be together but then you go ahead and confuse me even more by kissing me. You kissed me, Youngjae. And then you acted like it didn’t mean anything, like I was supposed to just… wait around and figure it out on my own.”
“It did mean something,” Youngjae said immediately, his tone rough now, almost pleading. “That’s why I called. To show you that I still think about you. To show you that I can’t stop thinking about it either.”
“Then why are you making me feel like I’m doing something wrong for moving on?”
“I’m not,” Young insisted. “You’re allowed to move on if you want to. You’re allowed to get tired of waiting. You deserve to be happy. God, I want that for you more than anything.” He sighed, voice breaking slightly at the edges. “I just didn’t think it would hurt this much to picture it.”
Luke felt his chest twist painfully. He closed his eyes, leaning back against the brick wall, the cold biting into his skin. “It’s not fair,” he said quietly. “You don’t get to tell me that you care and then disappear whenever it gets complicated.”
“I know,” Young said. “You’re right. It’s not fair.”
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The world outside the diner was quiet except for the hum of distant traffic and the faint clatter of dishes from inside.
Then Luke sighed, shaking his head. “I can’t keep doing this, Young. I can’t keep being half of something that never becomes whole. I’m tired of being a secret. I’m tired of waiting for you to stop being so scared of all the cons. I can’t force you to look at me the way I look at you.”
There was another pause, and Luke could hear Young’s breathing, unsteady, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Finally, he said, “Then don’t wait. Don’t wait for me.”
The words hit Luke like a slap and a relief all at once. His throat burned, but he managed to nod even though Young couldn’t see it. Even though his eyes watered. “Okay,” he said quietly, trying to stop the shake in his voice. “I won’t.”
“I’m sorry,” Young murmured.
Luke swallowed hard, blinking away his tears. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I’m sorry too.”
He ended the call before Young could respond. His hand trembled as he lowered the phone, the screen going black. For a long moment, he just stood there, breathing in the cold night air, feeling the ache of it all settle deep in his chest.
When he finally turned back toward the diner, the neon sign buzzed faintly above him, casting everything in a red and blue glow. Through the window, he could see Noah still in the booth, his chin resting on his hand, his face unreadable. Luke drew in a shaky breath. He didn’t know what he’d say. He didn’t even know if Noah would want to hear it. But one thing was certain…he was done waiting for someone who only ever half-loved him back.
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