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By mid August, the rhythm of Luke’s summer had settled into something soft, familiar, and almost painfully sweet. Most days began and ended with Youngjae, sprawled on the sofa together watching films, sneaking kisses in the basement, late-night drives to nowhere, and mornings where Luke would wake with Young’s arm around him and feel impossibly, stupidly lucky.
They’d spent nearly every day side by side, and despite Luke’s quiet fear that too much time might suffocate things, it never did. Somehow, the more time they spent together, the easier everything felt. They still flirted like idiots. They still bickered about nothing. They still laughed so loudly Luke’s mom threatened to separate them like misbehaving schoolboys.
And no (thankfully and miraculously) neither of them was sick of the other yet. If anything, Luke was falling harder by the hour.
Gabe, on the other hand, had become more like a ghost than a brother. He spent most of his summer as a blur of comings and goings, disappearing in the late mornings and returning well after midnight. Sometimes he was with Maddy. Sometimes with old teammates. Sometimes Luke had no idea. He rarely lingered in the house for long, and when he did, he barely spoke.
God, he missed Gabe. Missed laughing with him. Missed teasing him. Missed the way they’d play video games together until the early hours of the morning and then sleep all day. Missed the way Gabe used to ruffle his hair and complain about everything under the sun. Missed the way Gabe used to call him squirt.
But consequences were consequences, and Luke knew painfully that this quiet distance was part of the fallout. He had chosen to love Youngjae, and he would never regret that, but Gabe was still bleeding over it. And there was nothing Luke could do except wait… and hope.
Not everything was heavy, though.
Luke was buzzing, genuinely buzzing, to go back to Boston. To move into his dorm again. To get back to classes, to Joel, to coffee shops and late-night art sessions and the feeling of independence that came with living in the city.
But above all, he was excited to return with Young.
It still felt surreal that after years of crushing, months of chaos, and weeks of learning how to be soft with each other, they were going back to Boston as a proper couple. Luke was excited to build a life with him there.
Still, there was one thing lurking in the back of Luke’s mind: This would be Youngjae’s final year of college. After that, he’d graduate. He’d move out of the dorms. He’d start his proper life, whether that meant coaching lacrosse part-time, writing full-time, or something else entirely. Luke wasn’t sure where that would leave him. Whether they’d live together someday. Whether the timing would work out. Whether any of this was built to last forever.
But when Young leaned close and bumped their shoulders together, smiling without even realising it, Luke felt something warm settle in his chest. Whatever next year brought, they would face it. Together. He knew that.
They were driving home from their date with the windows down, wind brushing over their faces. The sky was streaked pink and gold, and Luke had his bare legs tucked up on the passenger seat, Young’s hoodie draped over his lap. It smelled like him.
Young was humming along to the radio, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. Luke watched him for a moment, heart squeezing in that stupid way it always did. Then his stomach twisted, because the thought that had been chewing at him all day refused to be swallowed anymore.
“Hey… can I ask you something kind of serious?” Luke said quietly.
Young’s humming stopped. He flicked a glance at him before turning back to the road. “Yeah, of course. What’s up?”
Luke hesitated because this wasn’t something he talked about lightly. It wasn’t even something he’d fully talked about with Eli. His fingers twisted the hem of Young’s hoodie. “It’s about bottom surgery,” he murmured.
Young’s posture shifted immediately. He lowered the volume on the radio.
Luke swallowed hard. “I don’t know if I should get it.”
There was a beat of silence, the good kind, the one that meant Young wasn’t rushing to speak.
Luke stared at the window, at the blur of trees. “Everyone online keeps talking about it like it’s the next step. Like top surgery automatically means I’m gonna go for the other one too. But it’s… it’s a huge thing. A huge recovery. I’m scared I’m gonna get it and then regret it, or I’m scared if I don’t get it, I’ll regret that too.” His voice cracked slightly. “I just don’t know what’s right.”
Young slowed a little, not stopping the car, just making the drive gentler. “Luke…” His voice was soft, careful. “You don’t have to make that decision right now. Or next year. Or ever.”
Luke blinked, his throat tightening. “Yeah, but—”
“No,” Young cut in quietly, but firmly. “Listen to me.” He reached over, brushing Luke’s knee with the back of his knuckles. “Your body isn’t on a timeline. There’s no deadline. You have time. If you choose to get it, I’m in your corner. I’ll help you through every painful second. If you choose not to, I’m still in your corner. And if you don’t know yet? That’s allowed. You’re allowed to take your time.”
Luke stared down at their almost-touching hands. “I’m scared,” he whispered. “I feel like… if I keep this part of me, I’ll always hate myself. But the idea of another surgery freaks me out. The recovery, the risk, the… everything.”
Young reached over, this time taking Luke’s hand properly, threading their fingers together. His thumb stroked the back of Luke’s hand. “I know it’s scary but you don’t have to decide out of fear and you don’t have to decide alone.”
Luke’s eyes stung. He turned slightly toward Young. “Do you ever… wish I’d already had it done?”
Young’s reaction was immediate, sharp. His brows snapped together and he shook his head. “What?? Luke. No. Never.”
Luke swallowed. “Even during sex?”
Young squeezed his hand, voice low, steady, certain. “Fuck, no. When I’m with you? I’m with you. Not a body part. Not some future version of you. Just you, as you are, right now.” He glanced at him again, eyes softening. “You’re not less of a man because you’re not ready for another surgery. And you’re not more of one if you go through with it. You’re Luke. That’s enough.”
Luke felt something break open in his chest, something tight and painful and relieved all at once. He wiped his eyes quickly with his sleeve. “Sorry,” he whispered.
“Don’t apologise for feeling things,” Young murmured. “Especially not to me.”
Luke breathed shakily, staring at their intertwined hands. “Thank you,” he said. “For saying all that.”
“Anytime,” Young replied, giving a small smile. “Now c’mere a second.”
He tugged Luke’s hand, gently guiding him across the centre console until Luke leaned closer, resting his forehead against Young’s shoulder as he drove.
After a few quiet minutes, Young huffed a small laugh. “Also,” he said lightly, “Do I need to remind you that I’m pansexual, and not gay? I don’t give a shit about… bits and bobs.”
Luke snorted despite the lump in his throat. “Bits and bobs?”
Young grinned. “Yeah. All that downstairs nonsense. Doesn’t matter to me.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah, maybe. But i’m also hot though,” Young added, flicking his hair. “Talented, emotionally intelligent, excellent driver—”
“Alright, alright,” Luke groaned, but he was laughing now. Really laughing. The kind that loosened his chest and settled something deep inside him.
Young glanced sideways, smirk softening. “I’m serious though. Nothing about you makes me hesitate. Nothing.”
Luke’s face warmed, but he didn’t argue.
They drove the rest of the way in a comfortable silence. When they finally pulled into the Davies’ driveway, Luke let out a small breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. His nerves hadn’t fully settled since the surgery conversation, but Young squeezed his knee once more before letting go.
“Ready?” Young asked.
“No,” Luke muttered, but he opened the door anyway.
Inside, the house smelled faintly of coffee and the lemon cleaner Luke’s mum loved. Luke was still tugging Young’s hoodie straight when they stepped into the living room, and there was Gabe. He sat on the couch, his arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes already fixed on Luke. He hadn’t been home when they’d left earlier… but now he looked like he’d been waiting.
Gabe pushed off the couch. His expression wasn’t angry exactly, but it was… guarded. Careful. Like he’d built a wall around himself and wasn’t sure whether to lower it or reinforce it. “Luke,” he said quietly. “Can I talk to you? Just you. Privately.”
Luke froze.
Young immediately stepped back, enough to show he wasn’t inserting himself.
Luke swallowed hard. “Um… yeah. Yeah, sure.”
Gabe jerked his chin toward the hallway. “In your room?”
Luke nodded, glancing once at Young.
Young nodded subtly.
Luke followed his brother down the hallway anyway, heart thudding, unsure whether this conversation was going to heal something or break something all over again.
The moment Luke shut his bedroom door behind them, the air shifted. Thick. Heavy. Careful. Gabe stood near the window with his hands shoved into his pockets, staring out like he was deciding whether to jump or run. Luke lingered by the door for a few seconds before forcing himself to move, perching stiffly on the edge of his bed.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then Gabe cleared his throat. “Are you… okay?”
Luke blinked. It wasn’t the question he expected. “Uh yeah,” he said quietly. “I mean, I’m fine. Are you?”
Gabe gave a small huff. “Working on it.”
Luke nodded. “Yeah. Me too.”
Silence again, but not the venomous kind it used to be. More like they were both feeling around in the dark for a light switch.
Eventually Gabe shifted his weight and rubbed the back of his neck. “So… I, um, I’ve got a bunch of clothes I was gonna throw out. Hoodies, shirts, some jeans that don’t fit me anymore. Thought maybe you might want them instead?”
Luke nodded slowly. “Sure…”
Gabe nodded. “Cool. No point throwing them out if you can use them. And, uh… your style’s kinda… similar to mine now, right?”
Luke’s chest warmed. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I’d really like that. Thanks.”
Gabe gave a small nod, eyes still darting everywhere but Luke’s face.
Another beat of silence.
“So… your new career,” Luke said, searching for something to soften the tension. “You start training soon, right?”
Gabe finally looked at him. “Three days,” he said, voice steady but with an edge of nerves. “I move into the team apartments the day after tomorrow.”
“That’s huge,” Luke breathed. “I’m proud of you.”
Gabe’s jaw twitched, like he was trying not to react too much. “Yeah. It’s exciting. Terrifying, but exciting.”
They both smiled weakly.
But underneath the small talk, the air stayed tight. Heavy. Like they were orbiting a conversation neither of them wanted to touch yet.
Luke fiddled with a thread on his blanket. Gabe crossed his arms. Both of them were stalling. Avoiding. Both of them knew it.
Luke swallowed, the thread between his fingers now a frayed little knot. His heart thudded painfully as he forced himself to look up. “Gabe…” His voice cracked on the name. “I miss you.”
Gabe froze. For a moment he didn’t breathe and didn’t blink, like Luke had just said something dangerous. Something he wasn’t prepared to hear.
Luke pushed on anyway. “I miss my brother,” he murmured. “I miss hanging out with you. I miss annoying you. I miss you barging into my room without knocking. I miss—” His voice trembled. “I just miss you.”
Gabe’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, staring at the wall instead. “Okay look—”
“No,” Luke said softly but firmly. “Let me say it.”
Gabe’s shoulders rose and fell in a shaky breath.
Luke sat forward, elbows resting on his knees. “I know I hurt you. I know everything got… messy and confusing and horrible. I know you think I took something from you, or that I didn’t think about how it would affect you, and maybe I didn’t. Maybe I was selfish. But I never—” His voice broke. “I never wanted to lose you.”
Gabe’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. He pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead like he was bracing himself. “You didn’t lose me,” he muttered.
“You say that,” Luke said quietly, “but I haven’t had you in months.”
That hit. Gabe flinched.
Luke took a shaky breath. “We’re brothers. We’re supposed to fight and make up and annoy each other again. You’re supposed to take the piss out of my drawings and I’m supposed to steal your hoodies. That’s what we do. Or… what we used to do, anyway.”
Gabe finally looked at him again and his eyes were glossy, “Luke,” he said, voice rough, “you didn’t just take my best friend. You didn’t just keep something from me. You grew up without me even noticing. You went through shit I didn’t help you with. And you built this whole life without me in it.”
Luke felt tears sting his eyes. “I didn’t want a life without you.”
Gabe inhaled sharply, chest tight.
Luke’s voice dropped to a fragile whisper. “I just want my brother back.”
The room fell silent.
Gabe let out a shaky breath. His face twisted, not in anger this time, but in something closer to surrender. Then he moved. Two long strides, and he was standing in front of Luke. For a second, he just stared, jaw shifting like he was chewing on a thousand things he couldn’t say. Then Gabe reached out, grabbed Luke by the upper arms, and pulled him up from the bed. Luke barely had a second to react before he was crushed against Gabe’s chest.
It wasn’t a gentle hug. Gabe squeezed him, his arms locked tight around Luke’s back, one hand curled almost painfully into the fabric of Luke’s T-shirt. Like he was afraid Luke would disappear if he let go. Luke froze for half a heartbeat… then melted. His hands fisted in the back of his brother’s hoodie as the tension he’d been carrying for months finally gave way. A choked sound left his throat, half-sob, half-laugh, and he buried his face against Gabe’s shoulder.
“You’re such an idiot,” Gabe muttered into his hair, voice thick. “A complete idiot.”
Luke huffed a wet laugh. “Takes one to know one.”
Gabe let out something between a snort and a broken breath. His hand slid up to the back of Luke’s neck, holding him close, just like he used to when they were younger and Luke cried over scraped knees or nightmares.
“You didn’t lose me,” Gabe murmured. “You never lost me. I was just—” His voice cracked. “I was hurt. And jealous. And stupid. I didn’t know how to deal with any of it.”
Luke’s grip tightened. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into Gabe’s hoodie. “I’m really, really sorry.”
“Me too,” Gabe said, and for once he didn’t try to sound tough about it. His voice wavered openly. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve been your brother instead of—” He broke off, shaking his head. “I messed everything up.”
Luke pulled back just enough to look at him. “You didn’t mess everything up,” he said.
Gabe stared at him for a long moment… then tugged him back into the hug, burying his face in Luke’s hair the way he used to when Luke was little.
For the first time in months, Luke felt whole.
Gabe kept Luke pulled against him for another moment, breathing shakily through his nose. When he finally let go, it wasn’t fully. His hands still rested heavy on Luke’s shoulders, thumbs brushing absently like he wasn’t quite ready to lose contact. He cleared his throat, eyes flicking away. “I still hate it, you know.”
Luke blinked. “Hate… what?”
Gabe grimaced like the words physically pained him. “You and Young.”
Luke’s heart sank a little, but Gabe held up a hand before he could speak.
“No, listen,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t mean hate like… hate hate. I just mean…” He squinted as if trying to force the right words out of his mouth. “It’s weird, okay? You’re my little brother, and he’s—” He gestured vaguely. “Young. My friend. My roommate. My…whatever. And then suddenly he’s kissing you and you’re kissing him and it’s just—”
“Gross?” Luke offered weakly.
Gabe’s mouth twitched. “Yeah. Gross.”
Luke laughed under his breath, but it was a soft sound, not hurt.
Gabe exhaled slowly, dropping his hands to Luke’s upper arms. His expression shifted, still uneasy and still a little uncomfortable, but it was warmer somehow. “But…” he added reluctantly, “I can see that he… really cares about you.”
Luke swallowed as something warm bloomed in his chest.
“And,” Gabe continued, though his face twisted like the words were being dragged out of him at gunpoint, “you clearly… I don’t know… glow or whatever when he’s around.”
Luke blinked. “Glow?”
Gabe flicked him lightly on the forehead. “Don’t make it weird. I’m trying to be nice.”
Luke smiled, eyes stinging.
Gabe sighed heavily. “Look, Luke… I’m not gonna pretend I’m thrilled about it. It still scrambles my brain if I think too hard.” He paused. “But you found someone who actually loves you. Someone who gives a shit. Someone who’ll look after you when you forget to look after yourself.” His voice softened. “And I’m happy for you. Honestly.”
Luke felt his throat close. “Gabe…”
“Don’t,” Gabe warned, stepping back before Luke could throw his arms around him again. “No more hugging. One was enough. I’m not turning into Young, Jesus.”
Luke laughed, wiping his eyes.
Gabe crossed his arms, trying to look stern and failing miserably. “Just… don’t break his heart. And don’t let him break yours, or I swear to God…”
“You’ll beat him up again?” Luke teased.
Gabe groaned. “Don’t make me think about it.”
Luke smiled properly for the first time in months.
Gabe cleared his throat and straightened his shirt like he needed to reset himself back into normal-big-brother mode. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Okay,” Luke nodded and followed him out of the bedroom, heart still fluttering, replaying every word Gabe had just said.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Youngjae was in the living room pretending to scroll through his phone, but Luke could tell he’d been listening for footsteps the entire time. His posture stiffened when he saw them, eyes darting between the two brothers like he was trying to assess whether he should prepare to flee, smile or apologise again.
For one painfully long second, nobody moved.
Then Gabe stepped forward. Not with the aggression of the last few months, not with the bitterness or the wounded pride…just a short, stiff movement. He extended his hand. Young looked startled, like this was the last thing he expected. But he stood, wiped his palms on his jeans just in case they were damp, and reached out to meet Gabe halfway. Their hands clasped. It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t affectionate. But it wasn’t cold either. It was… neutral. Civil. A beginning.
Luke held his breath, trying not to visibly shake.
Gabe stepped back, grabbing his keys from the side table. “I’m gonna head out,” he said casually, like everything wasn’t shifting under their feet. “Meeting Maddy.”
“Okay,” Luke nodded, wanting to talk to Gabe as much as possible. “Cool. Have fun.”
“Thanks,” Gabe said. His gaze then slid to Young one last time. “Take care of my brother,” he said gruffly. “Properly.”
Youngjae’s chest lifted with a deep breath. “Always.”
Gabe nodded, small and almost imperceptible, and pushed open the door. “See you later,” he muttered, stepping outside.
The door clicked shut behind him.
And Luke finally, finally, exhaled.
Young stayed standing for a moment after the door closed, staring at the floor. Luke stepped closer, half expecting Young to break into a relieved grin, but instead he found something softer in his expression. Something complicated.
“Hey,” Luke said gently, touching his arm to gain his attention. “You okay?”
Young blinked, as if Luke’s voice pulled him out of his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just… processing.”
Luke frowned. “Processing what?”
Young let out a breath that was half a laugh, half a sigh. “I guess that’s it, then. Gabe and I… we’re never going back to what we were.”
Luke’s heart pinched. He’d been so focused on fixing things between himself and Gabe that he hadn’t properly thought about what Gabe and Young had lost in the crossfire. Their bond had been years deep. Nearly brother-like. Luke had shattered it without meaning to, and Young had been dealing with that fallout even longer.
“Maybe one day,” Luke said softly.
Young shook his head, a sad but small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s okay. Really. I think I made my peace with it a while ago. I just didn’t realise it until now.”
Luke squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry.”
Young looked up then and his smile shifted into something warmer. “Don’t be sorry. You and Gabe are actually okay again. That matters. That’s important. I’m… relieved, actually. Even if things aren’t the same with him and me, at least the two of you aren’t falling apart anymore. That’s worth something.”
Luke stepped closer, resting his forehead briefly against Young’s chest. “I still hate that you lost him.”
Young wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I didn’t lose everything,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Luke’s hair. “Besides, he doesn’t hate me anymore. He shook my hand, didn’t he? That’s progress.”
“Barely,” Luke muttered.
Young laughed under his breath. “Barely, but it’s a start.”
Luke looked up at him then, eyes soft. “We’ll figure the rest out one day. All three of us.”
Young cupped Luke’s cheek with his free hand, thumb brushing the skin there. “One day,” he agreed. “Right now… I’m just glad your brother doesn’t want to murder me on the spot anymore.”
Luke snorted. “Same.”
Young’s expression softened even more, a private kind of warmth reserved only for Luke. But under it all, Luke still saw the hint of sadness, the quiet grief for a friendship that might never return to what it was.
Luke slid his fingers through Young’s. “No matter what, you’ll always have me,” he whispered.
Young squeezed back. “I know.”
authors note / double update tonight, stay tuned! 🙂
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