Chapter Text
On the first school day after the Christmas’ break has ended, he wakes up in your bed. He’d asked if it might be possible for him to go and stay with you the night before, so that you could go back to school together. It’s his first day back after his episode in December. You take his hand and kiss his palm, saying that you’d be there to weather the storm with him anytime he needed it.
You’re so dramatic.
Look at who I’m in love with then.
Oh yes. That happened too.
--
It starts with leaning against him, in the tram to school; to feel his warm shoulder against yours and seeing a small smile appear on his face when you do. You stare at each other, matching his smile on your face. He never asks you to do more than you feel comfortable with, so you don’t – you want to be honest in that towards him.
Words and touches – more than this – still frighten you. There’s a bolt inside of you every time you get too close to him in public, a feeling telling you no, not here. Not yet. You told him once, about that feeling; you had a long conversation afterwards, telling you that it is not wrong for you to touch him in public – that it is quite normal, in fact, and that he would really like you to. But that he understands if it’s too much, for now.
So it’s small baby steps. It’s a touch of shoulders in a tram; it’s loosely throwing your arm around his chair in the cafeteria; it’s holding his hand under the table at a pre-party.
It’s feeling relief when no one seems to notice. Or maybe no one really cares.
Slowly, you become bolder in your actions; letting him kiss your cheek when he meets you at your locker and giving him one in return when you leave for class. When you get there, your phone buzzes.
I love you.
--
Moving in together at seventeen and twenty years old should be scary. It should be; but it isn’t. You’ve never felt surer about making the decision to ask him. Because although your relationship with your parents is slowly improving, there’s no bone in your body that wants to submit yourself back under that level of stress again. It hasn’t been home in a long time.
Home is a tall, swoopy-haired, blue-eyed, handsome boy who cares for you in ways that no one has ever done before. You love him immensely, and he makes you so happy, that all you want to do in return is show that same level of care and happiness that he gives you.
He made you want to feel when all you wanted to do is quiet down.
Home is a bed with him in it.
--
Moving in together is also a confirmation; yes, we are two guys. Yes, we are living together, and yes, we share a kitchen, shower, and a bed. And it’s in here, during the cleaning up of a lovely-made dinner with Eskild that escalated into him telling you all about his new fling of the week, that you have another conversation; telling him of your fears to call yourself that. That which Eskild has no trouble in saying all the time. Your fear of being seen differently because of a little word that shouldn’t change a thing at all.
And he nods, and he listens – and that’s one of the things that you love about him; he waits, until you’ve formed your thoughts and words and only at the very end he provides another view if you need it. He instinctively knows.
Then he tells you – it’s you, and your decision and your feelings are valid. But then there’s the turning point: don’t dismiss who you are based on what others think of it. It makes you hate the word, and in return it might make you hate yourself – for just wanting to identify.
Just look at us all, Isak. Eskild, you and me. We all fall in love with the same gender. Look at how different we are at the same time. We’re more than who we fall in love with, and as long as we know that of ourselves... that’s all that really matters. To me.
So, after that conversation, after you’ve put the last dish away in the cabinet and you’re sitting down on your bed waiting for Even to finish choosing the movie of the night, you say it. Heart-pounding, head on his shoulder, in a whisper even you can barely hear:
I’m gay.
And he, putting down the remote, folds you into his arms and kisses the top of your head, telling you how proud he is of you; not only for admitting this to you, but for being so very brave in so many aspects in your life – in taking care of yourself, in taking care of him, and taking care of so many people around you.
And in the end, you realise this: you want him to love you for the rest of your days.
--
Now you kiss in windowsills in empty classrooms. It’s a long way from that day in his windowsill.
--
When you see Sana looking at a picture of Mikael on her laptop you can’t help but be interested; it’s the only proof you have of him being interested in men before you, and while you’ve never been very inquisitive regarding his sexuality – this? This previous man of his life? It’s something different.
Because you have suspicions, and you have your theories, about his life before Nissen. You’ve always felt that the truth would come eventually and you weren’t really into finding out forcefully from him. But your brain is making connections between your new friend and his old friend and when you ask Even about Mikael again he’s distant and changes the subject quickly. And then she’s not telling you anything either.
It makes you imagine things you’d rather not have happened to him. You want him to be okay – to be able to come to you with anything on his mind; but it’s not happening and it worries you. You’re just curious to know.
Eventually, you find out with a punch.
--
Normally, you’d ask him to sit his ass down the moment he would’ve gone up to sing a song in the karaoke bar – you love him, you do; but there’s a limit to how much you want to be public about it. Still, he wore you down this time, kissing you on the cheek repeatedly and, honestly, he’s so happy about it that you can’t deny him this.
When they come in, the panic in his eyes remind you of more difficult times. In return, you panic a little and decide to do the first thing that comes to your mind: you go and sing with him. You hold him tightly, trying to make him focus on you and on his happiness that was just there moments before.
Explanations will come later.
--
After that fight, he tells you everything. About him, about her, about them. About himself.
And although you don’t really believe in parallel universes that much anymore, there’s still one thing you’re in awe of the universe for.
The fact that you two got to meet at the exact moment you needed.
--
In a previous year, you would have never taken the fall for Sana; because you didn’t understand her, her perspective and her religion. But if she hadn’t been there for you when you needed it, you would’ve never found the courage to tell your mother the truth – you’d probably be still in the closet, at least for a long while.
She was there, though. She was there for you and for him. So this time, you’ll be there for her.
For the first time – outside of him - you call yourself gay.
In the bones of you, you and Sana are very similar people – not wanting to bother other people with your troubles, you hide yourself away and isolate yourself from people, becoming bitter and afraid that people will start to know the truth. That you are a sham; that you will never be loved in the way you want to be; that the world is never on your side. That it is all your fault.
But it isn’t. It’s in the making of the world around you; a world that is every changing but does so at a very slow pace when the people in it are desperate for it to be faster. So that it can change lives, save people’s hearts. For understanding and kindness to take over; for people to be willing to educate themselves instead of defending themselves against their faults.
It takes a while. It will take a while. You don’t think that any other person in Nissen knows better than you and Sana do.
That’s why you’re there for her – even if you realise afterwards you’ve done so in a less than satisfactory manner.
People need to know they’re not alone.
--
You never ask him. It’s not a question that comes up often, because you find yourself not really caring all that much. If anything, the past few months have taught you that people will come to you and tell you when they’re ready – and so it was this time around. It’s never been an issue.
Until he asks you; asks whether you ever wondered about his sexuality. His eyes wide, with a hint of apprehension in them, as if he’s waiting for an answer he has had a thousand times before. Oh yes, all the time – what exactly are you anyway huh? Are you gay? When are you going to make your choice?
But no, that’s not your response, because it’s not your question. Your question is this:
Do you want to talk about it?
And it surprises – you see it in his rapid blinking and his eyes looking away. He’s thinking deeply, you know because he’s got the same face every time he is, and you want to smooth the frown on his face and kiss his temple to make him smile again. But you don’t, you leave him be, leave him to think.
Eventually, he looks up again.
Maybe. I don’t know.
You smile fondly.
Okay, let’s talk.
--
god pride mnd peeps.
--
It’s still scary. You’ve become quite comfortable calling yourself gay now; not finding it a scary, all-affirming word anymore. But in that bubble of comfort, of people knowing and not caring – there are still people who do. People who call you homophobic slurs, who tell you you’re disgusting for kissing your boyfriend.
A boyfriend who means everything to you.
You lash out; you scare yourself a little too, not knowing whether the perpetrator would decide to actually come and fight you. Maybe, if it weren’t for said boyfriend, you would’ve actually fought him too.
But Even always knows – and it’s not until you look into his eyes that you realise how fiercely you reacted as he doesn’t let you look away. It’s in his hands, his eyes and his low, slow voice that you find your gravity again; he pulls you down from up high, and keeps you steady through a range of emotions that you go through in seconds. Because, at the end, he’s there. Ready to help.
Ready to remind you who you love.
Ready to remind you to focus on them.
--
Your story is as follows:
You started crushing on your best friend at age 15, and at age 16 you realised it was never to work out.
You fell in love at first sight at age 17 with a handsome, pansexual guy, amidst a whirlwind of leaving home, living on your own, inability to communicate and to let yourself love and be loved.
You became who you are at age 17 –
A person who loves, and fights for that love, and who isn’t afraid of being gay anymore.
At age 18, you’re Isak.
That’s all you truly need to know.