Chapter Text
Night had not yet fully come into its own - the sky in the west still held a pale-lilac strip of sunset, but the first, boldest stars were already appearing in the heights. Illuga lay on his back, arms flung wide, right in the middle of the thick August grass in their secret meadow. Blades of grass prickled his neck, and the air smelled of clover and earth warmed by the day's sun.
Lohen sat nearby, hugging his knees, and said nothing. He knew - this kind of silence should not be broken with words. It was dense, ringing, filled with everything Illuga had been carrying inside himself for the past few weeks.
"Look, today the stars are brighter than yesterday," Illuga said, and his voice sounded muffled, as if from under a thick layer of water.
Lohen raised his head. Illuga was looking up at the still-light sky, covered with a scattering of silver points, and in his eyes was reflected that slow fading of the day.
"You're not even looking at the stars," Lohen answered quietly.
Illuga blinked. His eyelashes trembled, and Lohen saw a tiny, almost invisible tear slide down his temple, immediately getting lost in his hair.
"I am looking. I always look at them. It's just... today they're different."
Lohen reached out his hand and carefully brushed a strand of hair from Illuga's forehead. His fingers lingered for a moment on his temple, where the skin was warm and slightly damp.
"Leave your worries behind, let's go quickly into the fresh air," he asked, even though they were already outside and had no business other than this one - this very conversation that had been brewing for a long time.
Illuga shifted his gaze from the sky to Lohen and smiled faintly. The smile came out pale, strained, like a string ready to snap at any moment.
"I'm tired, Lohen. I'm really tired."
Lohen didn't answer. He just waited.
Illuga sat up, hugged his knees - exactly like Lohen had a minute ago - and buried his face in them. His shoulders trembled almost imperceptibly. Grasshoppers chirred around them, a dog barked somewhere far away, and here, in their clearing, hidden from the whole world behind an old cherry orchard and a strip of wild raspberry bushes, time seemed to stand still.
"You know what my father said this morning?" Illuga asked dully, without raising his head.
Lohen tensed inwardly. He knew Illuga's father - Nikita. He knew how he looked at his son when he thought no one was watching. He knew that look - a mixture of love and some heavy, exhausting expectation. An expectation that Illuga would become someone else. Someone "proper."
"What did he say?"
"That I should spend more time with the guys from his football section. That I need to 'man up.' That I spend too much time at home, read too much, dream too much. And that I should... should..." Illuga faltered, his voice breaking into a whisper. "Should finally find myself a girlfriend."
Lohen clenched his teeth. A pounding started in his temples. He had imagined this moment thousands of times, yet he still wasn't ready. His own parents, of course, didn't know either. No one knew. But his parents - they simply didn't ask. They were busy with their endless errands, their work, their fatigue, and they had no time for who their son spent his evenings with in an abandoned meadow. But Illuga's father...
"And what did you say?" Lohen asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Nothing." Illuga finally raised his face. His eyes were reddened, but there were no more tears - only a dry, bitter emptiness. "I stayed silent. Like always. Do you understand? Every time he says something like that, I just stay silent. And inside me, it's like something dies. In tiny pieces. And one day, there'll be nothing left of me at all."
"Don't say that."
"How then? How should I speak, Lohen?" Illuga turned to him sharply, and desperation rang in his voice. "Look, it's all not serious, it's all a game... No one is right, and all attempts, honestly, are pointless."
He spoke the last words quietly, and tears finally streamed down his cheeks - not the ones that had been hiding before, but real, hot, fast ones. Lohen saw them roll down his face, saw his lips tremble, saw his fingers dig into the fabric of his jeans at the knees.
Inside Lohen, everything broke. Not from fear, not from confusion - from the realization of how much he loved this person. How unbearable it was to see him like this - broken, tired, lost.
He reached out his hands and gently took Illuga's face in his palms. The skin beneath his fingers was hot, wet with tears. Illuga tried to turn away, but Lohen didn't let him.
"Hey," he whispered. "Hey, look at me."
Illuga looked. There was so much pain splashing in his eyes that Lohen himself felt like crying. But he held back.
"It's not a game," he said quietly but firmly. "And it's not pointless. What we're doing, what we feel - it's the most real thing in my life. Do you hear me? The most real."
Illuga sobbed and squeezed his eyes shut, and then Lohen, unable to bear seeing this suffering any longer, leaned in and lightly, barely touching with his lips, kissed him on the left cheek - right where the tear track was still fresh. Then the right. Then the temple. The bridge of the nose. The tip of the nose.
Illuga froze at first, and then suddenly made a sound - something between a laugh and a sob.
"What are you doing?" he whispered.
"Chasing away the pain," Lohen answered seriously and kissed the corner of his lips. "See? It's already leaving."
Illuga sniffled. Then again. And then - oh miracle - the corners of his lips twitched upward. Tentatively at first, shyly, but with each new kiss from Lohen, the smile became wider, brighter.
"You're funny," said Illuga.
"I'm serious. I'm very, very serious."
"You're seriously kissing my nose?"
"It's a responsible mission." Lohen kissed his forehead. "Someone's got to do it."
Illuga laughed. Honestly, openly, brightly - the way he laughed only in their best moments. Tears still glistened on his cheeks, but his eyes were already shining, and in them, just like in those stars above, a light was kindling.
Lohen looked at him and felt something huge and warm expanding in his chest. He wanted to freeze this moment, to save it in some invisible box, to take out on days when everything would be especially hard.
"I love you," he said. He said it simply, as if it were a matter of course.
Illuga stopped laughing. He looked at him with a long, steady gaze.
"I love you too," he answered, and his voice sounded new - without anguish, without pain, calm and confident. "And that's the only thing that matters."
They sat like that for a long time, on the cooling grass, their shoulders pressed together. The sky above them had finally darkened, and the stars - the very ones Illuga had seen in the still-light sky - were now burning at full strength, bright, prickly, infinitely distant and at the same time close.
"You know," Illuga suddenly said, "maybe someday things will change."
"They definitely will," Lohen nodded. "Someday we'll stop hiding."
"Do you really believe that?"
Lohen thought about it. He wasn't naive. He knew how their small town worked, knew what people said, knew those glances, those whisperings behind backs. He knew that Illuga's father might never accept them, and that his own parents, for all their detachment, might react not at all as he would wish.
But he also knew something else.
"I believe in us," he said at last. "I believe we'll make it. Not now, maybe, and not in a month. But someday. Do you hear? Someday we'll walk out of here, and we won't have to look back."
Illuga was silent. Then he slowly nodded.
"I'll remember this," he said. "Your voice. Your words. All of it. I'll remember this evening every time it gets hard."
"And when it gets easy?"
"And when it gets easy, I'll just live. With you."
Lohen smiled and took his hand. Their fingers intertwined - a familiar, dear gesture they had repeated a thousand times, but which never became ordinary.
Some more time passed. The moon rose higher, flooding the meadow with silver light. A cricket chirped somewhere in the grass, and the sound was so peaceful, so right, that for a moment it seemed to Lohen: everything really would be okay. It simply had to be. There was no other way.
"Shall we go?" he asked at last.
"Where?"
"To look at the stars. For real."
Illuga blinked in surprise.
"We're already looking at them."
"No," Lohen shook his head and stood up, pulling him by the hand. "We're sitting and talking. But I want to just lie down and look. With no thoughts, no worries, none of this stupid world around. Just the sky. Just the stars. Just you and me."
Illuga rose after him, brushing blades of grass off his jeans.
"Let's go."
They walked out to the middle of the meadow - where the grass was especially soft and thick. Lohen lay down on his back first, and Illuga settled beside him, pressing close to his side. His head rested on a shoulder - familiar, comfortable, as if it had always been this way.
The sky above them was boundless. The Milky Way crossed it like a silver stripe, and millions of stars, big and small, bright and barely visible, scattered across this dark velvet canvas.
"That one, see?" Lohen pointed his finger up. "The brightest one. That's Vega."
"How do you know?"
"I read about it. And I've looked at it many times. When you weren't around, I'd look at it and think that you were somewhere out there, under the same sky, and maybe looking at it too."
Illuga turned his head and looked at Lohen. In the silver moonlight, his face seemed carved from marble - each feature sharp and at the same time surprisingly soft.
"You're a romantic," said Illuga.
"Only with you."
"You're lying."
"Not a drop."
Illuga smiled and turned his gaze back to the sky. For a while they were silent, just looking up at this endless scattering of lights. The silence was cozy and full - not the tense silence that had hung in the air an hour ago, but a different, calm, peaceful one.
"How many do you think there are?" Illuga whispered.
"Billions. Maybe trillions. No one knows for sure."
"And each one is a whole world. Somewhere out there, maybe right now, two people are looking at the sky just like this. And thinking about the same things we are."
"And loving each other," Lohen added.
"And loving each other," Illuga repeated, and in his voice there was such a warm, soft intonation that Lohen's heart ached.
They lay like that for a long time - maybe half an hour, maybe an eternity. The stars floated slowly across the sky, and some of them fell - tracing silver lines through the darkness and disappearing.
"Did you make a wish?" Illuga asked when another star broke into its short flight.
"I did."
"What?"
"Can't tell, or it won't come true."
"That's a superstition."
"But here we are, in a secret meadow, hiding from the whole world. So we have a right to superstitions."
Illuga laughed, and his laughter mingled with the chirping of crickets, became part of this night, part of this world, so fragile and so beautiful.
And then he turned, propped himself up on his elbow, and looked at Lohen. Long, attentively, as if seeing him for the first time.
"What?" asked Lohen, feeling his heart start to beat faster.
"Nothing. Just looking."
"And how is it?"
"Good. Very good. You're beautiful."
Lohen felt his cheeks flush. Even after everything that had been between them, he still got embarrassed when Illuga said such things.
"You are too," he mumbled.
Illuga leaned lower. His face was very close now - Lohen could see every eyelash, every tiny golden spark in his eyes, the reflection of stars in the very depths of his pupils.
"May I?" Illuga whispered.
Instead of answering, Lohen lifted his head and closed the remaining distance himself.
The kiss was tender, almost weightless. Their lips met as naturally as if they breathed the same air. In that touch was everything - the weariness of endless hiding, the fear of the world, and the huge, all-consuming love that was greater than that fear.
The stars above them continued their eternal path, indifferent and beautiful. The wind rustled in the crowns of the old cherry trees. The crickets sang their endless song.
And the two in the meadow kissed, and in that moment they were stronger than everyone. As long as they were together - they were invincible.
When the kiss ended, Illuga didn't pull away. He pressed his forehead against Lohen's, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"For what?"
"For being here. For being beside me. For not giving up."
Lohen stroked his hair - softly, soothingly.
"I'll never give up. Never. Do you hear?"
"I hear."
"And don't you give up. Whatever happens. Whatever they say. We'll make it."
Illuga nodded, and in that nod there was more determination than in all his words over the past few weeks.
They lay beside each other a while longer, simply enjoying the silence and each other's presence. The night grew deeper, the air - cooler. Lohen took off his light jacket and draped it over Illuga's shoulders, and he gratefully snuggled closer.
"Tomorrow," Illuga suddenly said, and his voice sounded thoughtful, "tomorrow I'll try to talk to my father. For real. No dodging. No silence."
Lohen turned his head.
"Are you sure?"
"No." Illuga smiled weakly. "Not sure at all. But I can't lie anymore. I can't pretend to be someone else. I'm tired."
"I'll be there. If you want - I can come with you."
"No." Illuga shook his head. "First, by myself. If it works... if he at least tries to understand... then I'll introduce you. Honestly. As my boyfriend."
Lohen's breath caught. He had imagined this moment so many times, but never thought it could be so close. So real.
"I'll wait," he said. "As long as it takes."
"I know." Illuga turned to him and kissed him again - this time briefly, on the cheek. "You always wait. You're the most patient person on earth."
"Only with you."
"You say that again."
"Because it's true."
Illuga laughed, buried his nose into Lohen's shoulder, and fell silent. His breathing became even and calm. Lohen felt the tension of the last few days slowly releasing, dissolving in this quiet night air.
"Do you know what I dream of?" Illuga asked softly, without lifting his head.
"What?"
"Simple things. That we could walk down the street holding hands. That we could sit in a cafe without looking back at the door. That my father knew who you are to me and didn't ask stupid questions about girls. That we could just... live."
"That's not asking so much," Lohen said.
"Sometimes it feels impossibly much."
"But it's worth fighting for, isn't it?"
Illuga was silent for a moment. Then he raised his head and looked Lohen straight in the eyes.
"It is. It's worth fighting for."
They lay in the meadow until the deep night, until the moon began to tilt toward the horizon and the stars paled in anticipation of the coming dawn. They talked about everything and nothing - about school, books, music, distant countries they would definitely visit together someday. They made plans, dreamed, laughed.
And when the first bright strip appeared in the east, they finally got up and went back - through the raspberry bushes, through the cherry orchard, to the place where their paths diverged. Here, at the crossroads of two dirt roads, they always said goodbye - quickly, almost furtively, so no one would see.
But today everything was different. Today they didn't look around. Today they simply stood and looked at each other, and in that gaze was a promise.
A promise that someday everything would change. That their secret meadow would cease to be the only place where they could be themselves. That the day would come when they would step out of the shadows and never return there again.
"See you tomorrow?" asked Lohen.
"See you tomorrow," Illuga nodded, and that same smile still played on his lips - bright, calm, happy.
They didn't kiss goodbye - it would have been too great a risk. But their fingers touched for a moment, and in that touch there was more than in a thousand words.
And then each went his own way.
Lohen stood for a long time by his house, leaning his back against the gate and looking at the brightening sky. The stars had almost disappeared, dissolving in the pre-dawn blue. Only Vega, the brightest, still twinkled above the horizon.
He smiled. Somewhere on the other side of town, Illuga was looking at it right now too. And maybe thinking about the same thing. That the pain had passed. Maybe not forever - it would return again, would remind of itself on hard days. But as long as they were together, as long as they held onto each other, no pain could be stronger than them.
As long as they were together - they were stronger than everyone.