Work Text:
April 25, 2008
“Hey, Sting? Can I talk to you for a second?”
It was a beautiful day, but not even the warmth of the sun kissing his skin or the gentle sea breeze could lift Sting’s mood. He should be at the beach on a day like this, eating shaved ice and playing volleyball with his friends. Not moping in his backyard, twisting himself up in knots about what had happened with Yukino earlier that day.
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you…”
Sting wasn’t oblivious. He’d noticed it a while ago, how Yukino was acting shy around him when she’d never done so before. And touchier. Reaching out to grab his hand or put hers on his shoulder too many times for him to ignore. Sometimes, when she was chatting with some of the other girls in their class, they’d all look his way and break out into giggles, and one of them would say something to her that made her blush, all flustered.
He’d been avoiding her for some time now, feeling guilty every time he saw the sad look on her face when he all but ran back home right after school, with some lame excuse like having too much homework. That guilt was only outweighed by the hope that she’d back down, but the very scenario Sting had been so afraid of had finally played out that day.
“I really like you...as more than a best friend…”
Yukino had been his best friend since...forever? Sting couldn’t even remember not being friends with her. She was a beautiful girl, smart, kind, and funny...
There was just one problem.
“I love you, I really do, but I can’t love you like that.”
Sting didn’t like girls. He’d much rather join them as they giggled and batted their lashes at cute boys.
As a kid, he’d always been drawn to guys he’d see in movies, video clips, or magazines, but it wasn’t until reaching his teens that he’d finally recognized it for what it was. The swimmers, surfers, and runners he’d see at the beach... Sting could watch them all day, and as soon as he realized that was precisely what he was doing most of the time, it was kind of impossible to deny the attraction he felt.
To himself, at least. He hadn’t been ready to admit that to anyone else yet, but Yukino’s confession had put him on the spot. As he’d watched her gather all her courage to express her feelings, a spark of hope shimmering in her eyes, he’d decided she deserved better than to be strung along. She deserved to know the truth, even if it broke his heart to tell her.
And just as he’d feared, she didn’t take it well. The hope in her eyes was replaced by the gloss of tears, and she’d left without saying another word.
“I’m sorry, Yuki…”
Sting rolled over on the grass, dropping the comic book he’d been trying to read in the hopes of distracting his thoughts, letting his eyes follow the white wisps of clouds that were slowly drifting through the sky above him. What would happen next? Would she tell her parents and sister? Their other friends? Classmates? How would they respond? And more importantly, would this mean the end of his friendship with Yukino? Sting was having a hard time imagining his life without her as his friend, they always did just about everything together.
“It’s way too hot to be racking your brain like that,” his dad’s chuckle suddenly sounded, snapping him out of his thoughts. He sat down next to Sting on the grass, shielding his face from the bright sunlight with one of his hands. “What’s bothering you, son? Anything I can help you with?”
Sting sighed, sitting up and facing his father. As nervous as he was about coming out for the second time that day, he could really use someone to talk to. Carrying this secret was wearing him down, he’d always been a terrible liar, and he just wanted to stop hiding. His parents were usually patient and understanding with him...Surely he could tell them this, right?
“Yukino has a crush on me,” he mumbled, picking a few blades of grass and rolling them between his fingers absently.
“Oh? Well, if you want advice on how to woo a girl, I’m not your guy,” Weiss chuckled, “At least, that’s what I’ve been told. But I can tell you this: as long as you just be yourself-”
“Dad, stop,” Sting cut in, “I don’t like her that way, and I wanted to tell her that without hurting her feelings.” He rubbed at his face in exasperation, “Besides, I tried being myself , and it didn’t go well at all. She might not want to be my friend anymore...”
“I’m sure you’re overreacting. You two have been friends for years, what makes you think she’d throw that away?” his father asked, offering a reassuring smile that crushed Sting under its weight, making him feel terrible about not being the son he was thought to be. There was also a hint of worry reflected in the slight furrow on Weiss’ brow as he waited for Sting to explain what was troubling him.
“It’s because I’m-” Sting hesitated, fighting an inner war between the part of him that longed to be free from the constant feeling of deception, and the part that just wanted to live up to everyone’s expectations. He could still chicken out if he wanted to, find some half-assed excuse for his words and behavior so he could stall for a little longer, but the truth would have to come out eventually. Besides, if Yukino ended up spreading the word, it would reach his parents sooner rather than later anyway. He’d prefer his dad hear it from him.
“I’m gay,” he admitted in a deep exhale, and just saying it out loud lifted such a huge burden from his shoulders already. He finally found the courage to look his father in the eyes, seeking his reaction, desperately hoping for the kind of understanding he was used to from him.
But it wasn’t there. Nothing was there. Instead, his dad was unusually silent. His expression was blank, as if he was looking right through Sting. Like he wasn’t even there.
“Oh.”
Oh? That was it? He’d just poured out his heart, and all he got in return was an Oh?
“Ugh, never mind,” Sting got up, suddenly feeling everything and nothing at the same time. A disappointment so vast it left a big empty hole that numbed him. “I’m outta here.”
Deep down, he was still holding on to the hope that his dad would stop him and call him back so they could talk about it, but Weisslogia remained quiet. He just let him stomp off without as much as uttering a single word, right when Sting needed him more than ever.
Resisting the urge to wait or look back, Sting rushed through the sliding door, passing the kitchen, where his mom was busy prepping food. For once, he wasn’t hungry.
“Now, now, why the hurry?” his mother called out, trying to soothe as always— a bright smile on her lips meant to lift his spirits managing to accomplish the very opposite.
He’d never felt so lonely before. Two of the people closest to him had let him down already, and he asked himself why she would be any different. He ignored her, simply because he couldn’t handle one more.
0-0
“What happened?” was the first thing to come out of his wife when Weisslogia stepped into the kitchen, the start of a rambling that interrupted all the thoughts he still hadn’t sorted yet.
“He already seemed off today, but then he just stormed off with a face like thunder and slammed all the doors in his path. I tried to talk to him, but he won’t say a word, doesn’t even want to come out of his room…” Skiadrum abandoned the fruits she’d been cutting, covering them with mesh food protectors to keep the bugs away, and sat down on one of the bar stools at the island counter, waiting for Weiss to give her an explanation. She was worried, and he couldn’t really blame her for that.
No matter how upset he was, Sting was never unresponsive. If anything, he’d come straight to them if something was bothering him, and could easily talk their ears off about it to help him process his emotions. Knowing that, Weiss felt awful about how their conversation, or lack thereof, had gone.
“It’s my fault,” he sighed as he sat across from Skia, running a hand through his hair. “He came to me with...something, and I wasn’t much of a help.”
“Something? Nothing too serious, I hope?”
“Well…” Weiss hesitated, unsure if he’d make things worse by telling her what he knew about their son without asking him first. But he wanted to soothe his wife’s worries and fix his mistake, and he couldn’t do that without Skia’s help. He was way out of his depth.
“Well?” she repeated, impatiently waiting for him to answer her questions.
“Well, Sting just told me that he’s homosexual.”
The frown of concern immediately fell off Skiadrum’s face, making way for a deadpan expression. “Don’t tell me you didn’t see tha t coming,” she said, the tone of her voice indicating that she already knew the truth.
“Wait, you knew?” Weiss asked her, perking up from his slumped position in surprise.
“Oh, come on! I’ve suspected it since he was 7! Remember that day when we spent half a day shopping with him for a winter coat? And ended up buying one from the girls’ department because he insisted all the boys’ ones had boring colors ?”
He’d probably never forget that day. They’d been to every single clothing store in town, had thanked all the helpful staff members who had cheerfully tried to coax their son into liking one of the available options, but Sting was immune to even the best of sales pitches. ‘Nope, I hate it,’ he’d said, carrying an attitude that was so hilarious for a kid his age it made Weiss’ tired feet worthwhile.
“I figured he just liked brighter colors,” Weiss mumbled, shrugging his shoulders, “and he always kind of went his own way. Headstrong, just like his mother,” he tried to tease, but he lacked the spirit for it.
“That could’ve been the case, but there have been other signs pointing in this direction,” Skia argued, “and adding them all up, it just made sense to me.”
Signs? Weiss wasn’t sure what exactly she meant. He’d never reached that conclusion and the fact that his wife had made him feel even worse.
He knew he was oblivious to many things, but this was their child they were talking about—his son. And Weiss had always assumed he knew him through and through. Apparently, he’d been wrong. He wasn’t the attentive father he’d hoped to be.
“Why did you never mention it?” he sulked, wishing he’d gotten a heads up so he wouldn’t have been tongue-tied at the admission.
Noticing his dismay, Skiadrum got up to pour them both a glass of wine. “Because I could just as well have been wrong, and even if I wasn’t, it was still up to him to decide when he was ready to talk to us about it.”
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” she asked once she’d sat back down again and had a sip of wine, “Did your conversation go that badly?”
“There, uh...there wasn’t much of a conversation,” Weiss admitted guiltily, “I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t really say anything.”
Skiadrum almost choked in her wine.
“Oh my God, Weiss, really?!” she bleated, hiding her face in her hand, “Of course he’d take off at that, he must be thinking you’re rejecting him!”
“I’m not,” Weiss quickly assured, but as he tried to put himself in Sting’s shoes, he realized that was exactly what it must have looked like. “Oh, crap...I really messed up.”
“No, you haven’t-” Skia reached across the table to take her hand in his and chuckled, “Okay, maybe a little, but we all make mistakes. If I’d told you about my suspicions, this might not have happened, so I’m at fault here too. Now, let’s clear it up together, shall we?” She smiled at him and squeezed his hand, “You go talk to him, I’ll get started on a peace offering.”
She got up again, taking her wine glass with her as she moved to the counter and made room for the mixing bowl.
Weisslogia nodded absently, absorbed in his own thoughts. He had to admit now that his wife had mentioned it, he was starting to see some of Sting’s quirks in a new light.
He was still letting the news sink in, trying once again to think about what he wanted to say, what he was supposed to say. But his mind was caught up in events that had happened long ago and knowing what he did, he couldn’t help but be scared for his son. And with that thought in mind, he decided to call the one person he knew who could help him.
0-0
“You did WHAT ?” Bob yelled at Weiss through the phone, outraged at what he’d just been told, “Weisslogia Eucliffe, you utter simpleton!”
“I know, I know…” Weiss agreed, “and I’m working on it, okay? I just- I don’t know this stuff, and I really need your help.”
“Pfft, obviously,” his long time friend scoffed, “ This stuff ...Oh, that poor kid.”
“Not helping…” Weiss reminded him through gritted teeth, forcing a smile onto his face even though he knew Bob couldn’t see him, but he hoped it would help him remain somewhat positive. “Look, I just want to be a good dad, but I’m way out of my league here. I’m guessing he has questions, and I don’t know how to answer them. I’ll have to give him the talk again, don’t I? Where do I even begin? And what if someone-?”
“Pipe down,” Bob interrupted with a sigh, and it was then Weiss realized he’d been pacing through his study, almost pulling the old, corded phone off the desk. “Seriously, grab that pipe of yours and calm down. I’m getting stressed just from listening to you.”
He took that advice, even though he usually never smoked inside the house, opening a window and hoping the smell wouldn’t linger for too long.
“Okay,” Bob began, “First of all, I think it’s great that you want to be there for your son to answer his questions and give him the bees and the bees talk and all, but do you really think he’s lining up for that?”
“The bees and the bees?” Weiss puzzled for a moment until he understood what Bob meant, “Oh! I get it!”
“God, if you were any slower, you’d be going backward. Anyway, the point is, I know you want to protect him, but that really isn’t what he needs from you right now. All he really needs is for you to tell him that you’re proud of him and that you love him. Can’t be too hard, right?”
Bob’s words hit Weiss hard, leaving him speechless for the second time that day. The difference was that this time, he knew exactly what to say, what he should have said in the first place, and it broke him to realize that he hadn’t. He’d been so focused on the details that he’d lost sight over what was most important.
“You’re right. I screwed up, Bob,” he said miserably, “I let my boy down, what kind of a father am I?”
“This isn’t the time for that, Weiss. You weren’t expecting it. It happens, nothing is lost yet,” Bob assured him, “Trust me, you’re already doing better than a lot of other parents out there just by making an effort. Kids get thrown out of their houses for this or receive far worse responses than complete silence. God, the shit my dad said to me…”
“Oh God, I’m sorry,” Weiss immediately replied, remembering some of the things that Bob had shared with him about his earlier life.
“Water under the bridge, love,” Bob dismissed his apology, “You were the first person to accept me just the way I was, Weisslogia. You can do this. You’re going to march right into his room and put him out of his misery. Meanwhile, I will email you all the resources we use at the center so that you can be ready when he does ask questions. How does that sound?”
“Thanks,” Weiss smiled weakly into the phone, thinking it was a shame that Bob had moved back to Magnolia. He missed having him around as a friend. They had been through so much together during the time they’d lived together as roommates, first in med school and later when Bob had spent a few years in Edolas.
He could still remember all the terrible reactions Bob had gotten just for being proud of who he was and being unafraid to show it. He’d endured everything from name-calling, discrimination, and threats, to actual physical abuse. The latter was still freshly engraved on Weiss’ retinas like it happened only yesterday instead of decades ago, and the mere thought of something like that happening to Sting was enough to send his protective instincts into overdrive.
“Weiss?” Bob’s voice had turned somber, and Weisslogia instinctively tensed up. “I know where your mind is going, but… it was a different time. Our situations are different, okay? He’s going to be just fine.”
“Okay,” Weiss managed, he didn’t fully believe it, but his friend’s words did give him some comfort. “Thanks again, you’re the best.”
“Any time, dear,” Bob chirped, “Let me know how it went, and give Skia a big hug from me.”
They ended the call, and Weiss put out his pipe, feeling better now that he’d talked to Bob and got the reality check he’d needed.
He took a deep breath as he left the study and made his way upstairs, smiling at the sweet smell coming from the kitchen.
0-0
Sting’s room was a mess. There were clothes scattered all over the floor, ripped out of the closet as he’d picked out the ones to shove in a bag under the sound of loud music. Sting knew that the incident between him and his dad wasn’t over just yet, but he wanted to be ready to get the hell out if worse came to worst. He’d heard about parents having bad reactions before, but he had never expected that from his own family and best friend. He just assumed the worst, not knowing what to expect anymore.
As he took down the fairy lights that were hanging on the wall right next to his bed, his attention was gripped by the pictures he’d hung up just below them. Pictures of places he loved to visit, like the beach or the zoo. Pictures of him with Yukino and with his parents. He took one of them down, carefully removing the thumbtack and pushing it back into the wallpaper while he studied it up close.
It was a picture of Sting and his parents that one of the nurses at the clinic had taken last year. Sting was wearing his dad’s white coat and name tag for a class presentation. It looked kind of silly, as it was a few sizes too large on him, and they’d stuck with that theme by making funny faces at the camera—a happy family like they’d always been.
Pfft, yeah, right. What a joke!
Sting gazed at it, still remembering how he’d felt that day, so eager to fill his father’s shoes. His father was someone he’d always looked up to. He worked hard and had made a difference in so many people’s lives over the years, running the clinic, where everyone was treated equally regardless of how much money they made or what job they held.
Apparently, he didn’t view everyone as equally as Sting had thought.
Not able to contain his frustration, he moved over to his nightstand to grab some of his comic books. There were several he hadn’t gotten around to reading, and he wasn’t about to leave them behind. Once he’d scanned them all and picked his favorites, he turned around to put them in his already stuffed bag and nearly jumped out of his skin when he noticed his dad standing in the doorway, staring at him in dismay.
“Can we talk?”
“Oh, so now you want to talk?” Sting chided, struggling to close the zipper of his bag, “Okay, sure. Whatever you have to say, just say it.”
His dad sighed, the sound inaudible over the out-of-place pop tunes but visible through his body language, “You surprised me, that’s all.”
“I surprised you ?” Sting slung the words back, “How do you think I feel?”
Outraged by his father’s words, Sting couldn’t keep still, his body thrumming with nervous energy. He began taking a few items out of the bag, throwing them aside to make room for different ones.
“Can you please turn that down so we can talk?”
When Sting ignored his request, his father went ahead and turned off the music himself. “There, that’s better. It’s a hot day, isn’t it?” he pointed out, “Why don’t we sit outside for a while?”
He opened the door that led out to the balcony they shared and walked out, leaving the door open for Sting to follow.
Sting took one last look around his room, trying to decide what to do. His dad was acting oddly calm, which allowed a voice in the back of his head to suggest it might not be so bad. Still, its negative counterpart immediately reminded him that he hadn’t made any attempt whatsoever to stop him from packing his stuff either.
He’s just gonna let you leave, just like he let you walk away before, it taunted, and Sting had never felt so worthless.
Despite his fears, he went outside, his eyes glued to the ground because he knew it would only take one glance at his father’s face for him to break.
“Have I ever told you that your mother and I thought we’d never be able to have children?” his dad spoke the moment Sting stepped out on the balcony. “We’d been trying for years, and when it finally happened, your mom had a miscarriage that almost took her life. After that, we’d decided not to try anymore. But then, when we weren’t expecting it, you came along.”
He came closer, putting both his hands on Sting’s shoulders, “Hey, look at me.”
Sting obeyed hesitantly, noticing to his great surprise that his dad was smiling at him, the way he did so often. A proud smile that was both everything Sting wanted to see and unbearable to look at at the same time.
“You are the best thing that’s happened to us, and nothing will ever change that,” he said, hugging Sting close to his chest. “I’m so sorry for not having the words to tell you that right away.”
Sting’s doubts melted away as he felt the warmth of his father’s arms wrapped around him, and the reassurance of kisses pressed into his hair. He’d so sworn to himself that he wasn’t going to cry, damn it , he wasn’t a little kid anymore, but in that moment of overwhelming relief, he felt five years old all over again.
“You smell of pipe,” he accused as he sniffled, burying his face into his dad’s shirt anyway, squeezing him so hard it made his old man chuckle.
“It was prescribed this time,” his father replied innocently.
“I’m sure,” Sting nodded, unsure whether he should be convinced.
“So, are we okay, or…?” Weisslogia asked, pulling away to look him in the eyes again.
He considered the question.
Were they okay?
Sting thought about how discouraged he’d felt just a few short minutes ago when he’d thought that everyone he loved was now against him. Now that he realized that wasn’t the case, he felt kind of bad for having so little trust in his dad, and for all the bad thoughts his anger and fear had fed him.
“Yeah, I- uhm, I guess I may have overreacted a little? You know, with the whole packing my bag thing…”
“No, it’s understandable. I can only imagine how scary it must’ve been for you to tell me, and when I should’ve been there to take those fears away, I only made them worse. Definitely not my proudest moment as a parent,” Weisslogia remarked. “But I need you to know that I’m thankful you’ve told me and that you can always ask or tell me anything. I may not have all the answers, but I’ll do my best to be there for you whenever you need me.”
After a brief moment of contemplation, Sting shrugged his shoulders. “Consider yourself forgiven,” he smirked, trying to joke it off, but he quickly dropped the act.
“Thanks, dad. That means a lot to me.”
“It means a lot to me too,” his dad smiled again, giving him another quick hug.
“I should talk to mom, huh?” Sting figured, remembering how he’d shut her out earlier when she’d tried talking to him.
“Only if you want to,” his father assured him, “but I have a feeling she will take it much better than you think,” and knowing his parents too well, Sting guessed that this feeling his dad was speaking of was probably more than just that.
It didn’t matter. Sting took his word for it, which made him a lot less nervous when they went back inside. His suspicions were confirmed when they came down the stairs and were greeted with the smell of something sweet and familiar. His mother would often bake a treat of sorts when he was upset, and it seemed like today was no exception.
“Hey, mom? There’s something I want to tell you,” he called out to her, taking the stairs two steps at a time, feeling more confident knowing that his dad was right behind him.
“Yeah?” she answered once they’d reached the kitchen, and sure enough, there was a plate full of cupcakes waiting for them on the island counter. She was just finishing topping off the last one with white frosting.
“I hope it won’t melt, they’re still a bit warm,” she mumbled to herself before turning her attention to Sting, “but they’re not quite done yet, something is missing…”
She rummaged through one of her cabinets, one that was perhaps even messier than Sting’s room was at the moment. Sting shared a look of wordless astonishment with his dad at how she was even able to find stuff in there, but it didn’t take long for her to return to the plate.
One by one, she decorated the cupcakes with a generous amount of rainbow sprinkles and smiled at the end result.
“That’s so much better,” she winked at Sting, “I think they’re perfect like this, don’t you?”
Sting could feel himself getting emotional again at her words, and he ran around the kitchen island to wrap his mother in a hug. “Thank you,” he managed to get the words out before bursting into tears.
“It’s nothing to cry about silly, this is a happy occasion,” he could hear the smile in her voice and feel the warmth of her body, and it struck him how lucky he was to have her as his mother. He hugged her even tighter, remembering what his father had said about her having almost died before he was born until she gently pushed him away to get a look at his face.
“I know,” he sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, “It’s just been a rough day.”
“Well, why don’t we sit down and have some cupcakes, you can tell me all about it.”
He nodded, already grabbing a cupcake and shoving the whole thing in his mouth before finding his way to one of the stools on the other side of the island. He hoped his mom could help him figure out what to do about Yukino because as relieved as he felt at the moment, he knew there was still an uncomfortable conversation in his future.
His mother waited patiently, watching him eat cupcake after cupcake, for once not even scolding him for his lack of table manners even though he could feel the stickiness of the frosting on his face.
He was getting ready to explain his predicament when the doorbell rang. His mother handed him a napkin with a smile and got up to answer it.
“I’ll get it, it’s probably one of the neighbors or something, I’ll be right back.”
Sting watched his mother walk away from the kitchen towards their foyer, grabbing another cupcake from the tray as he waited for her return.
“You feeling better?” his father asked, and Sting had to laugh when he noticed his father’s face was also covered in frosting.
“Yeah,” he admitted, after handing him a napkin of his own, “I just wish -”
“Yukino!” Sting heard his mother’s cheerful voice and tensed up once again, “You didn’t have to ring the doorbell, sweetie, you know you’re always welcome to come in from the yard!”
The sound of their steps echoed on the tiled floor, and Sting felt the cupcakes he’d already eaten settle in his stomach like a lead weight. Even though his mom was acting as if everything were normal, she had to have noticed that Yukino’s eyes were puffy, and her cheeks were blotchy from crying.
Not that Sting looked any better at the moment.
“Sting, look who’s here!”
His father saved him from responding, “Yukino! It’s been a while, how are you, dear?”
“Just fine, Dr. Eucliffe, thank you,” she attempted to smile, “Is it okay if I borrow Sting for a few minutes?”
Sting could feel the combined weight of both his parent’s glances, but it was his father who answered. “Of course.”
Just as he was getting up from the stool, he felt his father’s hand grab his and squeeze tightly as he mouthed the words Just be yourself at him. He gave a small nod in return and led the way outside through the sliding door.
“Do you wanna...sit here?” he gestured towards the bench swing where they had often whiled away entire afternoons, feeling kind of awkward and unsure what to say.
“Okay,” Yukino’s voice was quiet, and her movements were stiff as she sat down. Sting sat next to her rocking the swing slowly to give his antsy legs something to do.
They sat like this for several moments, neither saying a word, and Sting came to the conclusion that she had come to break off their friendship. The way she had rung the doorbell instead of coming in like she always did, how she wouldn’t even look at him.
It hurt, but he decided to be the bigger person.
“Sting, I-”
“It’s okay-”
Sting stopped talking and gestured to her to continue.
“I, uhm, I wanted to say I was sorry for running off on you like that,” Yukino’s voice quavered, and when she finally looked at him he was shocked to see the sadness clouding her usually sunny features,” You’re probably pretty mad at me, huh?”
“Mad?” Sting’s head jerked in confusion, “No, of course not. I was just scared that you’d hate me and wouldn’t want to be friends anymore.”
“No, of course I want to be friends, the best of friends. I just-” Yukino sighed, “I was embarrassed and a little hurt and confused.”
“It was probably dumb of me to think that-” she began, and once again, Sting could hear the tremble in her voice. It made him feel terrible for making her feel that way, but he also knew he couldn’t have avoided the situation for much longer.
She took a deep breath, but it didn’t seem to help much. “Sorano said I was being silly, that this way I could have you forever and we could talk about boys and go shopping and-”
She wasn’t able to continue, as the tears that she had been trying to contain refused to stay hidden any longer.
Sting tapped her on her shoulder, and when she finally peered at him, he held out his arms in silent invitation. Yukino hesitated for a moment before accepting his embrace.
“You’re not silly, it’s not like you can choose who you like or anything…” Sting talked while letting her cry out her feelings in his arms. He sighed before apologizing, not for who he was, but for how he had inadvertently made her feel. “I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you.”
“Yeah, Sorano said that too,” she sniffled, moving away to begin the interrogation he’d been expecting, “How long have you known?”
Sting averted his eyes and kept them fixed on the flowers in his mother’s garden, “About two years, I guess…”
“Oh. That’s a long time,” Yukino replied, and Sting could hear it, the hurt in her voice, intensifying the guilt he’d already felt over the way he’d handled this.
“You could have told me,” she chided, “I’m your best friend, and I didn’t even have a clue.”
“No, I couldn’t,” Sting snapped, frustrated that she still didn’t seem to get it, “especially not with the way you were acting.”
“I’m sorry,” he sighed, immediately regretting his outburst, “that was uncalled for. It’s just… none of this is easy for me. I’ve heard the way people talk at school about this stuff, what was I supposed to do?”
“You don’t need to apologize, you’re right, I was out of line,” she replied, holding his gaze evenly.
“I did want to tell you,” Sting ran his fingers through his hair, thinking of all the times he’d considered the idea, but something always made him hold back, and then she’d developed a crush on him. “But I- I was nervous about how you’d react, and I had no idea how or when to bring it up.”
Yukino nodded before looking down at her hands which were clasped on her lap, “It just all feels so strange, we used to tell each other everything, and I don’t want that to change.”
“Neither do I,” Sting shook his head, “No more secrets?” He held out his hand with only his pinky extended, breathing a sigh of relief when Yukino met it with hers right away.
“No more secrets.”
“So...are we good?” Sting still felt a little unsure until she flashed him one of her smiles. It wasn’t as vibrant as always, but he could glimpse a ghost of her usual smile lurking underneath, and he knew then that they were going to be okay.
“Yeah, we’re good,” she assured him.
“Thank God, I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d rather spend a lifetime of talking about boys and going shopping with.”
“Good,” Yukino managed a giggle,” cause you seriously need some fashion help.”
“You know what?” Sting examined the clothes he was wearing, wrinkling his nose at how plain they felt. When he was still younger, he hadn’t given a damn about what anyone thought of his fashion choices, and he’d love to get that back after hiding for so long.
“You’re totally right. Half the contents of my closet are already on the floor, I might as well throw some stuff out and get a new wardrobe,” he decided.
Yukino rolled her eyes and teased, “How is that any different from how your room normally looks?”
“Shots fired.”
Yukino laughed as she swatted away Sting’s finger guns. The sliding door opened, and they turned to see his parents bringing out plates of food.
“Everything okay, you two?”
Sting smiled at his parents, “Yeah, everything’s just fine.”
And for the first time that day, he actually believed it.