Array
(
[text] =>
Luke stood at the foot of the stairs for a full minute, fingers clenched at his sides, heart pounding like he was about to march into a battlefield rather than his brother’s bedroom.
He dragged in a breath. Then another. Right. He could do this. He had to do this.
No more avoiding. No more waiting for Gabe to magically calm down or for the house to suddenly feel normal again. Youngjae was already gone. Luke still felt that ache like a bruise under his ribs. Now he needed to face the other half of the explosion.
He climbed the stairs with stiff steps, pausing only when he reached the landing and the familiar door across the hall. Gabe’s door. Closed. Silent. Heavy as hell. If this were any other day, Luke would’ve turned right back round and sprinted to his room. Gabe in a mood was usually enough to make anyone rethink their life choices. But Luke had spent the past two days crying about Young leaving. He was tired. He was hurt. He was done hiding. And maybe he was allowed to stand up for himself. Even to Gabe.
Luke swallowed hard and straightened his jumper. “Right. Just knock. Don’t be a wimp. It’s just Gabe. Big scary Gabe. Whatever,” he muttered under his breath.
He lifted his hand.
Hesitated.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he mumbled, and before he could chicken out again, he twisted the handle and shoved the door open.
The curtains in Gabe’s room were half-drawn and it was kinda dark. Luke’s eyes flickered around; Lacrosse posters, textbooks, a pile of clean laundry that was definitely never going to be put away. And Gabe, sitting on the edge of his unmade bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. His head snapped up at the noise. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked exhausted. He looked like he hadn’t slept. He looked… not angry this time. Just worn out.
Luke’s breath hitched at the sight, but he didn’t let himself falter. He stepped inside, closed the door quietly, and stood with his back against it.
Gabe blinked at him. “Luke?”
“Yeah,” Luke said, trying not to sound shaky but doing a shit job of it. “We need to talk.”
Gabe just stared at him.
Luke opened his mouth to start talking, but the words caught on something sharp in his throat the moment he actually looked at Gabe properly.
The first thing he noticed wasn’t the heavy stare or the exhausted slump. It was that Gabe… wouldn’t look at him. His eyes flickered up for half a second and then dropped away again, like he physically couldn’t hold Luke’s gaze. Like seeing his little brother actually hurt him, or maybe embarrassed him, or maybe made him feel something he didn’t want to deal with. And that alone punched Luke right through the chest.
But then the second thing hit him.
The smell.
It was subtle at first, mixed into the stale bedroom air. Then stronger when Luke took another hesitant step forward. A familiar scent. Sharp. Bitter. Lingering.
Alcohol.
Not the “one beer with dinner” kind of smell. Not even the “hungover but trying to hide it” smell. It was the thick, stale reek of someone who’d been drinking in their room. Alone. Luke’s heart dropped straight to his stomach, heavy and cold.
Gabe had promised he’d try. Promised he’d cut down. Promised he’d be better. And Luke, like an idiot, had believed him.
He took another step forward, swallowing around a tight knot. “Gabe… have you been drinking?”
Gabe’s jaw flexed. His shoulders stiffened, just a little. “Don’t start.”
“Don’t start?” Luke echoed, voice cracking more than he wanted it to. “Your room smells like a pub, Gabe.”
Gabe finally looked at him then, and God, he looked so ashamed it almost hurt to see. “I know. I know, okay? Just don’t.”
Luke’s breath came unevenly, frustration and fear tangling up inside him. “You said you were trying to stop.”
“I am,” Gabe muttered, rubbing at his face with both hands. “Just had a bad night.”
“A bad night?” Luke whispered. “You practically disappeared for over a week.”
Silence.
Gabe didn’t deny it. Didn’t explain it. Didn’t even apologise. He just stared at the floor like he wished it would swallow him whole.
Luke’s throat tightened painfully. He wanted to yell. He wanted to shake Gabe. He wanted to hug him. He wanted to cry again.
He’d spent the whole summer worrying about Gabe’s drinking and the guilt and tension that had settled into the house like fog, and now, seeing it right in front of him, in the smell and the hollow look in Gabe’s eyes…It was too much.
Luke’s voice came out small. “Gabe… what’s going on with you?”
Gabe’s mouth twitched like he wanted to answer but couldn’t.
Luke took a shaky breath. “We need to talk,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “About everything.”
But he wasn’t sure if he meant his relationship with Young. Or the accusations Gabe had thrown. Or Gabe’s drinking. Or all three at once. All he knew was that he wasn’t leaving this room until he got answers.
He inhaled slowly through his nose, grounding himself. He’d rehearsed this conversation in his head all morning, but standing here made the whole thing feel ten times heavier. Still, he forced himself to try.
“Okay, look…” he began quietly, “we need to talk about Youngjae and I.”
Instant reaction.
Gabe’s whole body went rigid. His eyes snapped up, flashing with something sharp and exhausted and furious all at once. “No,” he snapped. “We’re not talking about that.”
Luke flinched, but he didn’t back down. “We have to, Gabe. It’s really important that we—”
“I said no.” Gabe pushed off the bed, pacing like a caged animal. “I genuinely can’t do this right now, Luke.”
“Well, I can,” Luke insisted, heart pounding. “Because everything’s falling apart and pretending it isn’t happening isn’t helping anyone.”
Gabe let out a harsh, humourless laugh. “Falling apart? You think this is falling apart? Try coming home and finding out your little brother has been sneaking around with the one person you trusted most in this world.”
Luke’s chest tightened painfully. “Gabe, please—”
“No, you please,” Gabe barked, voice rising. “Why did you have to go after him? Out of everyone, you picked my best friend? My teammate? My roommate? The guy who practically lived here through half your childhood, why him?”
“Because!” Luke’s breath caught. “Because I love him, Gabe! I didn’t choose it. It just happened!”
Gabe clenched his jaw and scoffed.
Luke regretted the volume the second it left him, but it was too late now. The words hung in the room like a crack of thunder, echoing off the walls.
Luke forced himself to keep talking, even though his eyes were burning. “I didn’t plan this. I didn’t go after him to hurt you. Why would I do that? I didn’t even know he still liked me properly until this year and—”
“That’s not helping,” Gabe growled, rubbing the back of his neck like he was seconds away from ripping his hair out. “God, Luke, do you know how messed up that is? How fucked this all looks?”
“He’s only two years older than me,” Luke shot back. “I’m eighteen. I’m an adult. And he never did anything until I wanted it too.”
“That’s what you think!” Gabe snapped.
“Yes, it’s what I think, because it’s true! If anything, I made the first move—”
“Great,” Gabe scoffed. “So my little brother chased after a guy who should’ve known better!”
Luke felt something hot and wounded twist in his stomach. “You keep saying that like Young’s some kind of predator. Like I had no idea what I was doing.”
“You didn’t.”
“Yes, I did!” Luke shot back, voice shaking. “And even if you hate the way it happened, even if you’re angry at us, we still deserve to talk about this like adults instead of you hiding in your room and drinking yourself stupid!”
Gabe’s face changed at that, like Luke had slapped him. For a moment, guilt peeked through his anger. But then the defensiveness returned twice as strong. “You don’t get it, Luke,” Gabe muttered, shoulders collapsing slightly. “I told him everything. We helped each other all the time. He knows everything about me, and I thought I knew everything about him too. He was my person, and now he’s… not. I never would have done this to you.”
Luke swallowed. “He can be both.”
“No,” Gabe snapped, voice cracking. “He can’t. Because he’s the one that told you I had a drinking problem, right? That’s what’s going to happen now. Nothing I say to him will stay confidential because he’ll have to tell his boyfriend. It’s always going to be you over me now, Luke. Always. I can never compete.”
Silence settled between them, heavy and painful. Luke stepped closer. “Gabe… I never wanted to take him from you. That’s not what this is.”
Gabe’s jaw clenched. “But you did.”
Luke felt tears burn behind his eyes. “Then help me fix it. Tell me what to do to fix it.”
Gabe turned away, shoulders shaking with something Luke didn’t understand yet—grief, loss, fear, maybe all three tangled together. “No,” he said hoarsely, “I don’t think you can fix this.”
“Gabe,” Luke said miserably
“Don’t worry,” Gabe said flatly. “I won’t stop you and him being together. I have no right. I’ll never meddle in your relationship again.”
Luke swallowed. The way Gabe said that felt like he was taking a step back from Luke and Youngjae completely. “What does that mean?”
“It means congratulations on your new relationship,” Gabe said in a monotonous voice. “I hope you guys make each other really happy.”
Luke felt the bottom of his stomach drop. The words sounded nothing like a blessing. They sounded like a door closing. Quietly. Permanently. “Gabe…” Luke whispered, stepping forward.
“Don’t,” Gabe said, voice low and exhausted. “Please don’t… look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want me to be happy for you.” Gabe let out a breath that trembled halfway through. “Because I’m trying, Luke. I’m trying so fucking hard. But every time I picture you and him, I feel like I’m losing it. It makes me livid, and I hate that.”
Luke’s lips parted, but no sound came out.
Gabe rubbed a hand over his face, like he was trying to scrub the emotion away. “I’m not angry at you. I’m… upset. And hurt. And confused. And I hate myself for it, but I can’t just snap my fingers and get over it.”
“I never wanted this to hurt you,” Luke said quietly.
“I know.” Gabe’s voice softened, but it didn’t warm. “You don’t do things to hurt people. That’s not who you are.”
Luke blinked rapidly, tears gathering in his lashes. “Then why does it feel like you’re punishing me?”
“I’m not punishing you,” Gabe said. “I’m… stepping back. Because if I stay involved and act like this is normal, or if I pretend I’m okay when I’m not… I’ll end up saying something unforgivable. Or doing something even worse.”
Luke’s chest cracked open. “So what? You’re just… not going to be part of this? Part of me?”
Gabe winced, like the words physically hit him. “You’ll always be my little brother,” he said. “I’ll always protect you. That’s never changing. But when it comes to… you and him?” His voice thinned. “I can’t be in the middle. I can’t watch it. I can’t talk about it. Not right now.”
Luke shook his head slowly. “This isn’t fair.”
“I know.” Gabe swallowed hard. “But it’s the only way I can keep loving you without resenting you.”
Silence fell, deep and echoing and wrong.
Luke’s voice cracked. “So that’s it?”
Gabe forced a small, brittle smile. “Yeah. That’s it.”
Luke barely remembered leaving Gabe’s room. One moment he was staring at his brother’s empty, defeated eyes, and the next he was stumbling down the hallway like he’d been punched straight through the ribs. His bedroom door clicked shut behind him and the second the latch caught, his legs gave out.
He collapsed onto his bed, face buried in the pillow, and the tears hit instantly, hot and violent. It wasn’t the soft, cinematic type of crying. It was choking. Sobbing. Gasping for breath he couldn’t seem to catch.
Gabe didn’t hate him, but he didn’t want to see him, either. Not like this. Not with Youngjae.
It felt like choosing happiness for himself meant losing part of his family, and Luke wasn’t built for that. Not after everything they’d survived together. Not after how close they had always been.
He clutched the fabric of his duvet in both fists, his shoulders trembling with every breath. His chest hurt, his scars ached, his head throbbed. And for the first time in a long time, he felt… alone. Truly, terrifyingly alone. Youngjae wasn’t here. Gabe wouldn’t even look at him. His parents didn’t know how to fix it.
And Luke, who was still recovering, and fragile, and emotionally wrung out, didn’t know who else to turn to. Except one person. His shaking hand fumbled across the mattress until it found his phone. He unlocked it with fingers that trembled so badly he had to try twice. His vision was blurry with tears, so he barely even saw the contact before pressing the call button. It rang once. Twice. Three times. He wiped his face on the sleeve of his hoodie, sucking in a wet, broken sniff.
“Luke?” Eli’s voice. Warm. Sleep-rough. Worried.
Luke’s mouth wobbled and a sob slipped out before he could stop it.
“Oh my God,” Eli said immediately, fully awake now. “Luke? What happened? Talk to me.”
Luke squeezed his eyes shut, tears dripping down his chin. “Eli…” His voice cracked completely. “I—I messed everything up.”
“No, you didn’t,” Eli said, gentle but firm. “Where are you? Are you home?”
“Yeah,” Luke whispered. “I’m in my room.”
“Okay. I’m coming over.”
“Eli, no, it’s okay.”
“Luke,” Eli said sharply, but with love behind every syllable. “I’m your best friend. You’re crying. I’m coming over.”
Luke let out another sob. “Okay. Please hurry.”
“I’m already grabbing my shoes,” Eli said, sounding panicked. “Just breathe until I get there, okay? I’ve got you. I promise. I’ve got you.”
[text_hash] => f98f65eb
)