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June 2016
Prom.
It was finally here.
Gbae could finally walk without crutches, though his limp still showed when he thought no one was watching. Luke had spent the last ten minutes helping him wrestle with a tie that refused to sit straight.
“Hold still,” Luke muttered, tugging at the knot. “You move one more time, and I swear to god you’re on your own.”
Gabe laughed, half annoyed. “You sound like Mom.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Luke said, yanking the tie tight enough to make Gabe choke slightly.
“Okay, okay! Damn.”
Luke stepped back, surveying his work. “There. You actually look halfway decent. Maddy won’t run for the hills.”
“She better not,” Gabe said, grinning as he turned toward the mirror. His reflection looked effortless—perfectly styled hair, crisp black suit, confidence radiating off him like a spotlight. It was unfair, Luke thought. Gabe was one of those people who could trip into a mud puddle and still look like he belonged on a magazine cover. Though his brother already had a giant ego so he would never say that to his face!
Their mom’s voice floated up the stairs. “Boys! You’re taking too long. Come on, it’s time for the best bit. Pictures!”
Gabe groaned. “Here we go.”
The brothers made their way downstairs where their parents were already fussing in the foyer, cameras ready. Maddy stood near the door, all glitter and curls, looking like she’d walked straight out of a fairytale. Luke watched as she smiled up at Gabe, her hands smoothing the lapels of his jacket, and something soft and fond tightened in his chest.
Their mom was practically vibrating. “Oh, you two look adorable! Stand closer. No, closer! Gabe, put your arm around her for goodness sake. Okay, perfect.”
Luke lingered on the edge, half smiling and half awkward. He loved seeing Gabe happy. Really, he did. He loved his brother whether he would admit it or not.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed.
ELI: Where are you?? Everyone’s here already and we need to set up the snack table. Also the fairy lights are falling AGAIN
Luke stifled a groan. “I’ve gotta go,” he said quickly. “Eli’s about to have a nervous breakdown.”
His mom glanced up from her phone-camera. “You sure? Don’t you want a photo with your brother?”
“Ew. Not really,” Luke said, already grabbing his blazer from the banister. “But make sure you take a good one of him and Maddy. Like… a normal one, please.”
“Don’t you need a ride?” dad called.
“No, I called an Uber!”
Gabe rolled his eyes. “Have fun being Eli’s personal assistant. I’ll see you there.”
Luke flipped him off on his way out, earning a scolding from both parents.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
The evening air was warm as Luke walked toward the gym, the sound of music and chatter already spilling from the building. He tugged at the collar of his white shirt, feeling the fabric stiff against his skin. Black jeans, white shirt, black blazer—he thought he looked like a waiter at some overpriced wedding. But even as he thought it, a quiet thrill sat under his ribs.
Because this was also the most ‘like a guy’ he had ever looked.
When he reached the gym, his breath caught. The place looked nothing like the dull basketball court it usually was. Soft lights draped across the ceiling, catching on silver streamers and glowing paper lanterns. The walls were lined with banners and tables, and the dance floor shimmered faintly under the disco lights.
“Holy crap,” he whispered to himself.
“Luke!” Eli came rushing over, clipboard in hand, face flushed and frantic. His bow tie was crooked, and a piece of confetti was stuck in his hair. “Where have you been? The snack table’s a mess, the punch bowl is too close to the speakers, and somebody thought it’d be funny to make the banner say ‘PROM 3016.'”
Luke snorted. “Sounds like everything’s under control.”
Eli gave him a look that could curdle milk. “Just help me, okay?”
Luke grinned, grabbing a stack of cups. “Jesus. Chill out, Eli. You’re acting like this is your prom.”
“It could be!” his best friend snapped back.
Luke had no idea what he was talking about but he did as he was told and got to work.
The gym filled up slowly, like the night itself was waking up. One by one, the Juniors and the Seniors drifted in. Most of the girls were in glittering gowns that shimmered under the lights, and almost all of the guys were annoyigly tugging at their collars or cracking jokes too loud to hide their nerves. Laughter mixed with the bass from the speakers, and every so often, a teacher would rush by trying to keep order.
Luke hung near the side of the gym with his hands shoved into his pockets. Unlike Eli, who buzzed around the room like he was hosting an award show, Luke felt like a spare part. He didn’t hate being here, he just didn’t know what to do with himself when everyone else was laughing and glowing and looking like they belonged.
Mrs. Farrow, the art teacher-slash-prom coordinator, spotted him and beamed. “Luke! There you are. I just wanted to say, you and your GSA team did a wonderful job with the decorations. The lights? The table layout? Goodness, everything looks incredible.”
Luke blinked, caught off guard by the praise. “Oh. Uh, thanks.”
She squeezed his shoulder before hurrying off to stop a group of kids from trying to sneak out to the parking lot. Luke stayed where he was, tucked in the corner beside the snack table. He refilled the punch bowl, straightened the stack of napkins, replaced the plastic cups whenever they ran low. It gave him something to do. Something that made him invisible in the best way.
From his corner, he could see the whole room. The spinning lights reflected off sequins and glass, and the air smelled faintly of vanilla candles and cheap perfume. It wasn’t bad, he thought. Just… loud.
Then, through the haze of moving bodies, he caught sight of Gabe.
Gabe’s suit jacket was gone, his sleeves rolled to his elbows, his grin wide and bright. He was on the dance floor with Maddy, who was laughing so hard she could barely keep up with his steps. For once, Luke didn’t feel the usual sting of jealousy that came with watching his brother in the spotlight. Instead, he felt quietly proud. He raised his hand and waved through the crowd. Gabe noticed and waved back before spinning Maddy again, her laughter echoing across the gym. Luke smiled despite himself.
Then the doors at the back opened, and a new wave of students stepped in. The noise rose, and the crowd shifted. Luke’s eyes caught on one familiar face—tall, black suit, perfectly messy hair.
Youngjae.
And beside him, Mia. She looked stunning in a dark blue dress, her arm looped through his, her shy smile glowing under the lights. Luke’s stomach did a weird twist, something between discomfort and disbelief. He looked away fast, pretending to be busy rearranging the snacks. His hands fumbled with the plastic cups, one slipping and rolling off the table.
It wasn’t like he cared who Young came with. They weren’t even friends. They hadn’t spoken since the night Gabe broke his leg. Things between them had settled into that awkward silence where you didn’t know whether to nod or just keep walking.
Still, the sight of him and his easy grin amd the way everyone seemed to light up when he walked by, made Luke’s chest ache with something he didn’t want to name. So he stayed in his corner, head down, pretending the music was too loud to hear anything else. He checked the snack table again, and everything was fine. Cups stacked, bowls full, tablecloth mostly stain-free. He’d done his part. But as another slow song came on and couples started pulling each other close, he realised Eli had been gone for a while.
He craned his neck, scanning the dance floor for the familiar mop of curly hair or the flash of his suit jacket. Nothing. No Eli anywhere. Rolling his eyes, Luke muttered under his breath, “Where the hell did you go?” before slipping out of the gym.
The hallway outside was dim, the sound of the music muffled and echoing against the lockers. The air felt cooler out here, calmer. Luke walked down the corridor, peeking into classrooms as he passed. They were all mostly dark, empty and quiet. Until he reached one near the end. Through the narrow window of the door, he saw movement. He leaned closer.
Inside, the overhead lights were off. Only the soft spill of light from the hallway and the faint shimmer from the disco lights made their way in. In the middle of the room, Eli stood with his arms around none other than Nate. They were slow dancing, bodies pressed close, swaying gently to the distant music. Nate’s head was tucked against Eli’s shoulder, and Eli’s hands rested lightly against his back. They looked… peaceful. Happy.
Luke felt something twist inside him. A warmth that spread through his chest, but also a heaviness too. He smiled faintly, but it hurt a little. Because as happy as he was for Eli, there was something quietly heartbreaking about the fact that they had to dance here, in the dark, away from everyone else. They deserved to be out there under the lights, laughing and not worrying who might see. People knew Nate was in the GSA. They had seen him slip in and out sometimes. But maybe they thought he was just an ally. But seriously, would anyone actually care if Eli and Nate walked onto the dancefloor right this second? Probably not.
After a moment, Luke backed away from the window, giving them their space. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked back toward the gym, the hum of laughter and music getting louder with every step. He rounded the corner…and collided straight into someone.
“Whoa,” a deep voice said.
Luke stumbled back, heart jumping.
It was Young.
Of course it was.
For a second, neither of them moved. The noise of the gym spilled around them, but it felt oddly quiet in the space between their stares.
“Sorry,” Luke muttered, trying to sidestep.
Young mirrored the motion. “No, my fault.”
They both froze again, awkwardly caught in the same lane. Then they both stepped to the right at the exactly same time too. Luke sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry.”
“Sorry,” Young said bashfully.
Luke had never heard him so bashful before.
“What are you even doing out here?” Luke asked. “The party’s over there.”
Young’s mouth twitched like he wasn’t sure if he should smile or not. “Could ask you the same thing.”
Luke shrugged. “Needed a breather.”
“Yeah,” Young said. “Me too.”
The silence that followed wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it wasn’t hostile either. Just… weird.
Young shifted his weight from one foot to the other, eyes flicking toward the dance hall where the lights flashed and laughter spilled out. “You look like you’d rather be anywhere else,” he said, trying for a light tone.
Luke gave a one-shouldered shrug. “You’re not wrong.”
“You worked on the setup, right?” Young asked. “The decorations, lights, all that?”
“Yeah. Eli roped me into it. Well, actually he roped us all into it.”
“All?”
“The GSA.”
“Oh, yeah, the…GSA,” Young nodded slowly. “What does that stand for again?”
Luke gnawed on his lip in embarrassment. “Why?”
Young frowned and quickly backtracked. “I’m not making fun of it or anything. I just genuinely can’t remember what it’s called.”
Luke was quiet for a while, eyes flickering across Young’s face. When he saw no animosity, he quietly mumbled, “the Gay Straight Alliance.”
“Right,” Young nodded. “The Gay Straight Alliance.”
Luke was now fiddling with his sleeves. “Yeah. But anyway, it’s fine. I didn’t mind helping out. I kinda like art and decorating. But being at prom right now? Not exactly my scene.”
Young hummed softly, glancing toward the gym doors again. “You guys did a good job. Looks… nice.”
Luke blinked, caught off guard. “You say that to everyone, or am I special?”
Young huffed a small laugh. “Definitely not everyone. Half the decorations at my middle school prom looked like a five-year-old’s art project. This—” he gestured vaguely toward the hall—”is legit.”
Luke didn’t know what to say to that. Compliments weren’t something he got from Young. Not ever. The silence settled again, quieter this time.
After a beat, Young shoved his hands into his pockets. “Anyway, I think you’ll be happy to know that I’m finally going to be getting out of your hair.”
Luke looked up. “What do you mean?”
“You know? Not coming by your house all the time,” Young said, clearing his throat. “Harvard sent me my confirmation a few weeks ago. Gabe must have mentioned it by now, right?”
Luke nodded slowly. “He mentioned it. Said you two were gonna be roommates.”
Young smiled a little. “Yeah. Guess that’s the plan. Lacrosse seems to be the way forward.”
“Seems to be?” Luke frowned.
“I mean, yeah,” Young shrugged. “It’s all I’ve ever know. Plus I’m good at it, so I guess it makes sense that that’s the road I should take.”
“Should?” Luke murmured. “You mean, you’re only doing this because you feel like you should, rather than because it’s what you want?”
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love lacrosse,” Young said quickly. “But yeah, sometimes I kinda daydream about doing something else.”
“Like what?” Luke found himself asking.
“It’s stupid,” Young said bashfully, scratching the back of his neck.
“Oh, come on. Tell me.”
“You’ll laugh.”
“I swear, I won’t laugh,” Luke said.
Young eyed him suspiciously. “Promise?”
“I promise,” Luke said, holding his hand up besides him to show how serious he was.
Young’s lips twitched into a smile. “Alright, well…the truth is, if I wasn’t destined to be the best lacrosse player the world has ever seen, I would go into writing.”
“Writing?” Luke asked hesitantly. “What, like newspapers and magazines? Like a journalist?”
“No,” Young said, shaking his head. “Like…stories.”
“Stories?” Luke’s eyes practically bugged out of his head. “You like writing stories?”
Youngjae honestly looked so embarrassed, Luke momentarily forgot how much he didn’t like him. “See? You’re laughing.”
“I’m not laughing!” Luke protested. “I’m just shocked.”
“Why?”
“I just didn’t peg you for a fantasy kinda guy,” Luke said.
Youngjae rolled his eyes. “Guess you don’t know me that well.”
“Clearly,” Luke mumbled.
“I just have all these crazy ideas in my head that sometimes I write them down in a notebook and it kinda comes together and feels like a story,” Young explained. Luke blinked across at him in surprise. Youngjae sheepishly shook his head. “Yeah, I know. It’s super lame. It’s whatever. Anyway, that’s why I’m sticking to lacrosse. It’s more manly.”
“Manly,” Luke repeated under his breath.
“I’m very excited about Harvard,” Young added, clearly trying to shift the conversation back to what it was about previously.
Luke’s throat tightened. “Right. Yes. Harvard. It’s a great college. I’m happy for you,” he said, and surprisingly… he meant it, even though something about saying it felt strange. “You worked hard. You deserve it. Both of you do.”
For a moment, Young just looked at him. His face softened in a way Luke wasn’t used to seeing—like all the noise and ego had quieted. Then his expression shifted, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. “Luke,” he said finally, “can we, uh…can we talk? Privately?”
Luke frowned. “Aren’t we already talking?”
“Yeah,” Young said, nodding toward the darkened hallway that stretched off beside the gym. “But can we talk in there instead? Just for a minute. There’s an empty classroom.”
Luke hesitated, his stomach tightening. His heart gave an odd little kick in his chest, a pulse that felt too fast for how calm he was trying to look. “Why?” he asked slowly, even though a part of him already knew the answer.
“Because I need to tell you something,” Young said, his voice lower now, the usual edge softened into something almost uncertain. “And I don’t want anyone else hearing.”
For a long time, Luke didn’t move. The sound of the music behind them blurred into something distant—bass thumping through the floor, laughter echoing down the hall. He glanced toward the opposite end of the corridor where he knew Eli was, tucked away somewhere with Nate. For a second, he wished his best friend would just appear, grinning and saving him from whatever this was. But of course, that didn’t happen. “I don’t know. I should probably get back to my post,” Luke muttered, his voice thinner than he wanted it to be.
But Young took a small, careful step forward, his eyes catching the faint light spilling from the gym. “Please? It’ll only take a second.”
Luke’s brows drew together. “Just one?”
Young’s lips twitched upward, a shadow of a smile. “Maybe two or three.”
Luke exhaled through his nose, dragging a hand through his hair. “Fine,” he said finally, pretending to sound annoyed even though his chest still felt tight. “You have three whole seconds. Don’t make me regret it.”
They started down the hallway together, their footsteps echoing against the linoleum. The further they went, the quieter the world seemed to get, the laughter and music fading until only the hum of the building filled the silence. The classroom door creaked faintly as Young pushed it open, and the scent of old wood and floor polish drifted out.
Inside, the room was half-lit by the orange glow of a streetlamp outside, the desks casting long, crooked shadows across the tiled floor. Luke leaned against the teacher’s desk near the front, crossing his arms as Young quietly closed the door behind them.
He watched as Young shoved one hand into the pocket of his dress trousers, his shoulders shifting restlessly like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. It was hard not to notice how good he looked—his dark blazer fitting perfectly, tie slightly loosened, hair falling in that easy, careless way that probably took him forever to perfect. Young also had perfect skin and it was unfair. Luke had struggled with acne since freshman year, and although he wasn’t completely covered in pimples, his face wasn’t flawless like Youngs.
“You look nice, by the way,” Young said suddenly, his voice cutting through the silence, almost as if he’d read Luke’s thoughts.
“Oh.” Luke blinked, glancing down at his own clothes. “Uh, thanks.”
“Makes you look tough.”
“Tough?”
“Scary,” Young added, smirking a little.
Luke rolled his eyes. “Shut up. What do you want? Why did you drag me here?”
“To talk.”
“So start talking.”
Young nodded absently and started pacing a bit, the quiet sound of his shoes against the floor filling the room. He stopped near the first row of desks, his fingers brushing the edge of one before he looked over at Luke, then quickly looked away again. “Have you forgiven me yet?” he asked suddenly.
“What?” Luke blinked, thrown. “Forgiven you for what?”
Young lifted his gaze again, and even in the dim light, Luke could see the guilt there. “For the comment I made at the start of the year.”
Luke stared at him, baffled, and then let out a startled laugh. “You mean the comment you made almost ten months ago? Yes, Youngjae. I’ve already forgotten about it.”
Young was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowing. “There’s a big difference between forgetting about something and forgiving it,” he said softly. “I’m glad you forgot, but I’d really appreciate it if you could forgive me too.”
Luke stared, dumbfounded. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
“Why?”
“What why?”
“Why do you care so much? It’s been months, Youngjae. Months. Why are you still going on about it?”
Young’s gaze dropped to the floor, his jaw working, the muscles in his cheek tight.
Luke pushed himself off the desk and took a few steps closer, the air between them shrinking. “Young,” he said, his voice low and firm. “Why do you care so much? Why can’t you just forget about it and move on? I have.”
“Have you?” Young asked quickly, his eyes flicking up to meet Luke’s. “Moved on, I mean. Has the comment I made completely left your mind?”
“It had before you brought it up again,” Luke said, frustration threading through his voice.
“I’m sorry but I—”
“Seriously, what is your problem?” Luke snapped, cutting him off. “It’s like you’re always trying to cause a scene. Why do you have to keep bringing it up? Can’t we just brush it under the rug and move on?”
The question hung in the air, the silence that followed almost tangible.
Young’s jaw clenched like he was holding something back, but then he let out a rough breath and met Luke’s eyes. “Because despite just being Gabe’s younger sibling, you mean a lot to me,” he said finally, the words spilling out fast, like he’d been holding them in too long.
Luke froze. For a second, he thought he’d misheard him. “What?”
Young’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “That’s why I can’t forget about it,” he said, quieter now. “You mean a lot to me. You always have. Even when I didn’t—” he shook his head, frustrated. “Even when I didn’t know how to deal with it.”
Luke blinked, then let out a disbelieving laugh. “What? You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” Young said quickly. “I’m being dead serious.”
“I’m confused,” Luke said.
“I care about you,” Young repeated.
Luke scoffed, looking away with a faint, incredulous smile. “You’re saying that you care about me now? After everything that’s happened? After you spent half the year avoiding me?”
“I wasn’t avoiding you,” Young said, taking a step closer. “I was trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me whilst giving you the space you asked for.”
“Oh, come on,” Luke said, shaking his head. “You don’t need to do this. You don’t need to say some sentimental crap just to make yourself feel better about one stupid comment.”
Young frowned, his tone sharpening. “This isn’t about the comment anymore.”
Luke’s laughter died in his throat. “Then what the hell is it about?”
Young hesitated, staring at him like he was deciding whether to say it or not. Then, slowly, he exhaled. “When you were still Lola…” he started, his voice almost unrecognisable—soft, hesitant, like he was walking a tightrope. “I felt something.”
Luke flinched at the mention of his deadname. But honestly? He didn’t really have that long to dwell on it because Young continued speaking and his jaw dropped a little further.
“I didn’t really get it at the time. I just knew that every time you were around, it messed with my head. I got all weird and…I don’t know. Shy? Or maybe not shy, I…I don’t know. Awkward.”
Luke blinked across at him, speechless.
Young rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting to the floor. “And then when you came out as Luke, I thought maybe that was my chance to make things right, to start over or whatever. You know, give us something to talk about. Maybe I could congratulate you and we could start talking properly that way. But I was damn awkward and chicken shit about it, I ended up ignoring you further and then saying the worst thing I could’ve possibly said whilst drunk.”
Luke just stared at him. He didn’t even know what to think. His pulse was a wild drumbeat in his ears, and his mouth had gone completely dry.
“So yeah,” Young went on quietly. “That’s why I care. Because it wasn’t just guilt. I didn’t just feel bad. I—” He stopped himself, biting down on the next word. “You mattered. You still do. Not just as my best friends little brother, but…”
Luke let out a small, breathy laugh that didn’t sound real. “You’re joking,” he said, though there was no humour in his voice.
“I’m not,” Young said, meeting his eyes again.
“I’m sorry, Youngjae,” Luke gritted out, “you’re going to have to explain this to me like i’m 5 years old. What the hell are you saying right now?”
“I had a crush on Lola,” Youngjae replied quickly.
Luke’s jaw dropped a little further.
Young winced. “I know it’s messed up, and I know you probably hate me, but I can’t just pretend I didn’t feel something back then.”
Luke was again left speechless.
Young looked panicked now. “I mean, I tried to just ignore you whenever I came over. It worked, I guess. You barely acknowledged my existence which is a good thing but…”
Luke’s voice came out low, almost strangled. “I… I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s okay,” Young murmured. “You don’t have to say anything. I know it’s awkward and I know I left it too last minute.”
Luke looked at him for a long moment, caught between disbelief and something heavier that he didn’t want to name. The room felt suddenly too small and too quiet, like the air itself was holding its breath. “Can I—” he started, then stopped, shaking his head. “No, never mind.”
“What?” Young asked.
Luke’s voice cracked a little when he finally spoke. “Why are you telling me this now?”
Young exhaled through his nose, his gaze flicking away again. “Because,” he said slowly, “It would’ve been weird if I had told you all of this last year. You were Gabe’s little—” he caught himself, corrected softly, “—you are Gabe’s little brother. If I’d said something back then, I would’ve sounded like some kind of creep.”
Luke blinked at him, thrown off by the honesty in his tone. “A creep?”
“Yeah.” Young gave a helpless shrug. “I didn’t want to come off like a freak.”
Luke let out a short, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “If anyone’s a freak, it’s me.”
“Don’t say that,” Young said immediately, frowning. “You’re not.”
Luke’s laugh died somewhere in his throat. The look on Young’s face was so earnest, so unguarded, that he didn’t know where to put his eyes. “Does Gabe know? Do you think he would be okay with all this?” Luke asked finally. “Because I’m guessing he wouldn’t.”
Young’s expression faltered, guilt flickering in his eyes. “No,” he admitted. “If Gabe ever found out, he’d hate me.” He rubbed his hands over his face, then said quieter, “That’s another reason I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want to lose him over something that didn’t even make sense to me at the time.”
Luke’s stomach twisted, unsure whether it was from nerves or pity or something else entirely. “So what, you just… kept it to yourself for years?”
“Yeah,” Young said simply. Then his tone softened. “Look, you don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know that I’m not transphobic. I never was. I liked you when you were Lola, but I think you’re pretty great as Luke too. Maybe even more so. You’re being your true self and that’s fucking ballsy. I messed up with my drunken comments all those months ago, but I still see you as you. The same person I’ve always known.”
Luke swallowed hard. His mind was a blur of static, words piling up but never quite forming sentences. He didn’t know how to respond to that, not when his heart felt like it was beating in his throat.
Young’s lips twitched into a faint, nervous smile. “Since this is prom night and all…” he said, almost shyly, “do you wanna have a dance? For old time’s sake?”
Luke blinked. “A dance?”
“Yeah,” Young said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just one. No one has to know.”
A grin tugged at the corner of Luke’s mouth before he could stop it. “You do realise how this looks, right? Two guys dancing in an empty classroom while everyone else is out there having the time of their lives. You know there’s another couple doing that just a few doors down, right?”
Young blinked. “There is? Who?”
“Eli and Nate.”
“Nate as in Nate the junior?”
“That’s the one,” Luke nodded, not really feeling bad that he was telling Young all of this. Young was graduating soon anyway. Luke guessed he didn’t really care about high school gossip anymore. Well, apart from his own.
Young chuckled under his breath, stepping closer. “Wow. Didn’t realise Nate swung for that team.”
“I didn’t realise you did either,” Luke flushed.
A nervous smile played at Young’s lips. “Guess I’m good at pretending. I’m most definitely the most pansexual person you’ll ever meet.”
Luke’s heart stuttered, caught between a laugh and a breath. “Right. Does Gabe know?”
“What? That’s I’m pan?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think so,” Young shrugged. “I mean, we’ve never really spoken about it. It’s not exactly something I’m hiding, but I’m definitely not ashamed of it?”
“You’re not?” Luke asked in a small voice.
A gentle smile graced Young’s lips. “No,” he murmured. “Definitely not ashamed of it.”
“But you’re not out,” Luke frowned.
“My parents are kinda…” Young trailed off.
Luke understood. Young didn’t need to explain.
“So…” Young said in a low voice, stepping even closer. “About that dance.”
Luke swallowed thickly. God, Young was so tall. So goddamn handsome. He was having heart palpitations. “Uh, I mean. Yeah. Yeah, okay. But if someone walks in—”
“Nobody will walk in,” Young cut in gently.
And for the first time in his entire life, Luke didn’t move away when Young reached for him.
The music from the gym was faint through the walls. Just a low, steady pulse of bass, muffled laughter, and the occasional cheer that seeped into the quiet classroom. The fluorescent lights above buzzed dimly, casting pale rectangles over the desks and the floor. Luke stood there, awkwardly, his hands shoved into the pockets of his blazer while Young shifted from foot to foot like he was second-guessing everything.
Then, with a hesitant smile, Young extended a hand. “C’mere.”
Luke hesitated, staring at it like it was some kind of test. “You’re serious about this?”
Young nodded. “I don’t do many things halfway.”
Luke rolled his eyes but, after a long second, reached out and placed his hand in Young’s. His palm was clammy. Whether it was from nerves or just how hot the room suddenly felt, he wasn’t sure. Young’s hand was warm and steady, his fingers calloused from years of gripping lacrosse sticks. The older boys other hand found its way to Luke’s hip, a little clumsy and a little unsure, and Luke instinctively rested his free hand near Young’s chest, just over the fabric of his shirt. He could feel the thud of Young’s heart underneath.
At least he wasn’t the only nervous one.
“See?” Young said, his voice soft. “Not so weird.”
Luke huffed. “It’s extremely weird.”
But he didn’t pull away.
They started to move, swaying slowly. There was no rhythm. No song. Just the faint echo of a beat filtering through the walls. Luke tried not to look at Young as they moved, and he definitely tried not to think about how close they were standing or how Young’s breath brushed the side of his face every time he spoke.
“This is stupid,” Luke muttered, half-heartedly.
“Probably,” Young said. “But you’re smiling.”
Luke froze for a second before realising he was. It felt foreign. His lips curved up without permission, the kind of small, reluctant smile that came with letting his guard down.
They kept swaying in silence for a while, the tension between them a quiet hum that neither wanted to acknowledge. Luke’s chest ached, not in a bad way but in that confusing, sharp way where everything feels too close, too real.
When he finally had the courage to look up, Young was already watching him. Not with pity and not with confusion, but with something Luke couldn’t name. Something gentle.
“I’m sorry again,” Young murmured. “For all of it.”
Luke swallowed hard. “You already said that.”
“I know,” Young said. “Just wanted to make sure you heard me this time.”
Luke let out a shaky breath. “I did.”
They didn’t say anything else after that. They just stood there, two boys swaying in an empty classroom, pretending not to notice that the rest of the world was still spinning outside.
When the music from the gym suddenly changed to something loud and fast, Young stepped back first. His hand lingered in the air for a second before he shoved it awkwardly into his pocket. “Thanks,” he said.
“Uh, yeah. You’re welcome,” Luke mumbled.
Again, a silence fell between them. There were so many things Luke wanted to say. So many things he wanted to ask Young, but the words wouldn’t come out fast enough.
“I should probably get back,” Young eventually said quietly.
“Yeah,” Luke said, voice barely above a whisper, trying not to let the disappointment show.
“I liked dancing with you, Luke Davies,” Young murmured.
Luke swallowed thickly. “I liked dancing with you too, Wi Youngjae.”
Young’s lips curled upwards. “Nobody ever calls me that.”
“Oh,” Luke blushed. “Sorry.”
“No,” Young said quickly. “I like it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Luke’s heart was hammering so hard he could hear it in his ears. Every thought in his head was a tangled mess, crashing into one another like waves. Is he gonna kiss me? No way. He’s not. He wouldn’t. Would he?
Young was still standing close. His eyes flicked down to Luke’s lips for the briefest second before darting away, landing somewhere over Luke’s shoulder. Luke could feel his pulse racing in every part of his body. The room felt too warm, too quiet. His brain screamed at him to move, to say something, anything, but all he could do was stare back.
Then Young leaned forward.
It was so gentle that Luke almost didn’t realise what had happened until it was over—a soft, fleeting brush of lips against his cheek. His skin tingled where Young’s mouth had touched, heat flooding up his neck.
Young stepped back immediately, shoving his hands into his pockets again, his face unreadable but his ears slightly pink. “I, uh… I should probably go back,” he said quietly, voice hoarse.
Luke couldn’t speak. He just nodded, afraid that if he opened his mouth, he might actually squeak or say something stupid.
Young lingered for one more heartbeat like he wanted to say something else, but then slipped out of the classroom, leaving Luke in the dim, echoing silence.
The door clicked shut.
Luke exhaled loudly and shakily, staring at the floor, then at the spot where Young had just been standing. His fingers brushed his cheek without thinking, right where he’d been kissed. A laugh, nervous and disbelieving, escaped him. He pressed a hand over his mouth to smother it, but it was useless. His chest was tight, his stomach felt like it was somersaulting, and every thought in his head was screaming the same thing:
He kissed me. Holy shit. He actually kissed me. Well, my cheek. BUT STILL.
And as much as he tried to calm himself down, the grin spreading across his face refused to fade.
Q: what do you think of Youngjae so far?
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