Archive of Our Own ^beta

By the time Cirrus was ten years old, he understood two fundamental things about how the world worked.

The first lesson came directly from his father in the repetitive form of passionate monologues and stern lectures.

If you wanted something, you simply had to take it. That applied whether it was an abstract goal or a tangible item. Cirrus was the oldest son of Baek Jae-song, who was the oldest son descended from a long line of oldest sons who had achieved wealth and power seemingly through sheer willpower. Whatever they desired, they manifested into reality. Nobody else could interfere, and if they tried, they’d fail.

The second lesson Cirrus had to find out for himself from a young age.

Direct confrontation wasn’t the most effective way to get what you want when someone else was involved. Instead, it took cunning, strategy, manipulation. The challenge was maneuvering people squarely into the trap you set. There was always a way to break another person. Once that happened, they’d willingly give you what you wanted.

Of course, as Cirrus got older, he realized that these principles weren’t black and white rules. It wasn’t like he trusted his father at all, and he had disdain for his advice the more he realized what a weak man he truly was.

But he could never shake the belief that there were things that were absolutely his. And once they were in his possession, he wouldn’t share with anyone else.

✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ☂･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

By the second week of classes, Cirrus was ready to tear his notebook in half. His gaze was steadily on the exhausted teacher at the front of the room lecture. Instead of mere attentiveness, however, a malicious glare seemed to be stuck on his face.

Why did Mr. Lee have to fuck him over this badly? After everything Cirrus had done for him by being the class monitor last year - distributing and collecting papers, reminding people of important dates, keeping his peers on track, all of the other standard bullshit - this was how his teacher decided to reward him? By punishing him and putting Skylar on the literal opposite end of the classroom?

He couldn’t take it anymore.

There were at least two heads constantly in the way between him and the other boy. That meant that he could barely even glance over at the back of Skylar’s head. The person sitting diagonally in front of him probably thought she was the target of his anxious glances.

When he did manage to get a clear view of Skylar, half the time he and Ji-gyeom were exchanging looks or quietly chatting up a storm. Because Cirrus was so far away, he couldn’t make out what they were talking about. All he knew was that Ji-gyeom had a perpetually stupid look on his face and Skylar would sometimes gesture animatedly. Other times, Cirrus could tell he was smiling.

Ji-gyeom didn’t deserve those expressions of pure sunshine. Not one bit.

Cirrus absentmindedly scribbled circles onto the page in front of him, wasting pen ink. How could he rectify this situation? Was there a way to change the seating arrangement? He could try to convince Mr. Lee there was some exigent reason. Even if that worked, he was sure it’d draw a ton of questions from the others. He would’ve had to have done it earlier in the first week.

If he couldn’t alter their placement, how could he get rid of Ji-gyeom? It wasn’t like he had any special attachment to the other boy. Their friendship was constructed of proximity alone. The thing was, although Cirrus didn’t really care about him, he didn’t necessarily want to have to target Ji-gyeom. It was inconvenient, and there was always the risk that the rest of their friend group might find out.

Turning Skylar against the other boy would be worth it though.

So worth it, he emphasized in his head, as his eyes slid over to the front right of the classroom. He could only see the side of Ji-gyeom’s face as he slid a scrap of paper over to Skylar.

They were passing notes now? What, was this middle school or something? What was written on it? Did Ji-gyeom think he was being cute? Was Skylar actually responsive to his silly antics?

He jumped in his seat as something tapped his arm. His head whipped around to glare at the boy sitting next to him.

“Hey, you okay?” the brown-haired boy asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “Are you ready to work on the assignment?”

Cirrus stared at him, his mind reeling from shifting gears so fast. What the hell was this guy talking about?

“Um…Mr. Lee just told us to work in pairs,” the guy nervously added, seeing the look on his face.

After a moment, Cirrus sighed, trying to release some of the tension in his body.

“Okay,” he said evenly, and forced himself to pretend like he was engaged in calculus homework.

✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ☂･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

It was simple. There were two categories that Cirrus could use to sort the things around him: what was his and what wasn’t. He’d admit that these lists were less about technicalities of ownership and more about his functional interactions with people, places, and objects. Even so, in his mind, there were often clear boundaries.

Cotton Candy? Definitively his.

When he’d first been handed the box with the tiny puppy in it, his eight-year-old self was unimpressed. It felt like accepting it would be like accepting a bribe from his father. He thought it’d be annoying to take care of a dog. A few days later, he was hopelessly attached to Candy. She had been the only bright, loving, patient part of his life for all the years they’d been together. Jisu was going to find out the hard way that touching her was the biggest mistake she could have made.

His bedroom? Also his exclusive area - he wouldn’t tolerate anyone except himself and Candy in that area. He’d even made that clear multiple times to the housekeepers. None of his classmates - except one - had visited his house or seen his room. He was loathe to imagine someone else invading his personal space.

There were other belongings, like his phone or articles of clothing or the faded photographs hidden in his drawer, that he’d also throw into the category of his. Some he cared more or less about, although he’d be pissed if someone else started tinkering with any of those. Especially the photographs.

And, of course, there was Skylar.

Cirrus was the only person at their school who had seen the various facets of the other boy’s personality. He was the only one who knew that Skylar didn’t really need glasses, that the ones on his face were purely for aesthetics. He alone knew what the inside of the his tiny apartment looked like and had visited multiple times. Only he had gotten to know the other boy’s mother and his sister, Ha-yeon.

Nobody else knew that Skylar was gay. Or about his (ideally) former feelings for Chan-il. Those mysterious medications that he was taking. His lack of fear of horror movies. The way that Skylar could throw a mean punch, an impressive feistiness in him. How his eyes got all puffy and red when he cried. The serene expression on his face when he was asleep.

Who else knew him better than Cirrus? Who else could completely understand how fucked up life could be, or how messy family relationships were, or how hard it was to hide parts of who you were from the world?

Reciprocally, nobody else knew him better than Skylar. He was the only one that Cirrus could be himself around. He was the only one who had actually seen him and hadn’t been fazed by what was under his mask.

After evaluating all of that, the answer was obvious.

Skylar was his.

However, there was the flip side of it all. Skylar was an unpredictable person who made his own decisions. There were other people that he had relationships with, who increasingly captured his time and attention.

It seemed like Cirrus’ ability to predict how things were going to go, and to maneuver people where he wanted them, was starting to falter. It was even backfiring from time to time.

That definitely complicated things. The idea that somebody else could become familiar with all of the same things that Cirrus already knew about the other boy, spend hours with Skylar, laughing and exchanging knowing glances, made him sick. Worse yet, the thought of someone else putting their hands all over the other boy, maybe even trying to press their lips against his - Cirrus could never follow through with his imagination on that one, because it made him want to punch something again and again.

No. Skylar couldn’t get taken away from him. But his friends were hanging around relentlessly, constantly blocking Cirrus from being with him. That lousy Ji-gyeom, always being so handsy and clingy and chatty and fucking annoying.

The biggest problem was that he couldn’t exactly walk up to their entire friend group and happily announce that Skylar belonged to him, thank you very much, and anyone who tried interfering would suffer the consequences.

Plus, Skylar himself would have some kind of reaction. The last thing Cirrus wanted was the other boy freaking out and condemning him in front of everyone. He could only imagine what he’d say. He might even construe it the wrong way. Like Cirrus was in love with him or something. He was not in love with Skylar, that would be ridiculous. But if hewere, and he expressed those feelings to Skylar, there was a certainty that he’d be rejected.

This situation sucked. The most he could do was run around behind the scenes and try to fend people off left and right, seemingly to no avail. There would always be someone new hanging around, someone to take Skylar away from him. What was he supposed to do?

✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ☂･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

As the third week of school rolled around, their friend group had settled into a somewhat regular lunch routine. Usually Chan-il, Jiwon, Yoochan, Skylar, and Cirrus sat together. Ji-gyeom and Seung-yeon would drop in and out depending on the day.

At first Cirrus had been apprehensive about Skylar joining their group. He worried that the others would notice something was off between them. Surprisingly, that soon became the least of his concerns.

That Tuesday became an excellent example of the current conflict.

Cirrus was returning a library book after class and stuck in a longer line than he’d expected. He’d just made it to the front when he heard the bell ring. Dread immediately shot through him.

The student working the counter looked bewildered as he hastily dropped the book in front of her and started walking away immediately.

“Sorry, I’m in a rush!” he didn’t wait for a response before he hurried out of the library. It took all of his self-restraint not to burst into a jog. He had to navigate between people as crowds of students made their way to lunch. People waved or smiled at him as he passed, and he plastered a pleasant look on his face so people wouldn’t think he was acting erratic.

He cursed his rotten timing as he finally made it to the cafeteria, which was a long way from the library. Why hadn’t he waited to return that useless book? Now he was going to get stuck in yet another long line and by the time he finally sat down, he’d have the shittiest seat.

As soon as he made it to the end of the line, his eyes roved over the large room. He spotted their usual table.

Right now, it was just Jiwon and Yoochan sitting together. It looked like they were watching something together on a phone and laughing. All of the other seats were currently empty.

He couldn’t relax yet though. When he glanced ahead of him, he saw Chan-il and Ji-gyeom standing closer to the front of the queue. He cursed under his breath.

If only he hadn’t been elected class monitor last year. If only everyone didn’t pay an absurd amount of attention to him when he didn’t want any of it. If only he could just cut everyone in the line and get ahead of those two.

After a minute, he looked back over at the table. It was still just Jiwon and Yoochan. He frowned.

He yanked his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his notifications. Half of them were boring texts from people he didn’t even know that well who had unfortunately gotten his number at some point. Ri-in had sent him a few links to some tweets and a video, which he’d save for later. He checked the usual text threads, biting his lip.

Had Skylar said something about not coming to lunch today? The last texts were from Ji-gyeom and Seung-yeon exchanging emojis. Nothing else.

As he watched Chan-il and Ji-gyeom head over to the table with their trays of food, he prayed that they’d sit in chairs that left two other seats next to each other open.

By the time he got his food and walked through the cafeteria, he wanted to groan loudly in frustration as he saw that for some inexplicable reason, his four friends had arranged themselves around the table in a way that only left chairs on opposite ends and sides of the table open. Just fucking great.

He offered a weak smile to the others as he sat down, listening quietly as they debated where they should go on a group trip over spring break. His eyes kept drifting over to the entrance to the cafeteria as the others’ conversation mostly rolled right off of him.

If Skylar wasn’t coming to lunch, where would he be? The photography room? The classroom? Would it actually be better to go find him if he were somewhere else? If Cirrus did that, at least he might not be stuck sitting far away from the other boy.

“…been like that for weeks now.”

“I mean, he definitely zones out, but usually not this much…”

“Look, he can’t even hear us right now.”

Cirrus’ eyes widened as he realized Chan-il, Jiwon, Yoochan, and Ji-gyeom were all staring at him with amused expressions.

“Huh?” he looked between them sheepishly. Was he being that obvious?

“What’re you looking for man?” Ji-gyeom raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been so spacey these days.”

He uncomfortably shifted. Usually he didn’t let himself slip up so badly.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about a library book I need to return,” he knew it sounded unconvincing, but he had nothing better. “I guess this semester has been more stressful for me.”

Thankfully, although his answer didn’t even address the original question, Yoochan briefly choked on his drink.

“Shit - I have a book that’s overdue by at least three months!” he looked genuinely mournful.

Beside him, Jiwon unsympathetically snorted. “What do I tell you every week?” He used a silly voice. “Yoochan, don’t forget to return that book. Hey, Yoochan, is that still the same library book? Yoochan, for fuck’s sake, stop holding the school’s book hostage-”

Yoochan immediately put him in a headlock. “Quiet, you,” he growled, his cheeks red.

Unfazed, Jiwon just laughed delightedly at him. “I’m so excited for them to fine the hell out of you. It’ll cost more than buying the book!”

Cirrus was grateful that the attention shifted away from him, and the others started talking about unrelated things. He picked at his food, arranging his brown rice into a circle just for the hell of it. Everything was overwhelmingly stressful.

He could barely remember the days when he could just freely zone out without worrying all the time about where someone else was, what they were doing, who they were talking to, why they weren’t at his side, and how he could get them there.

His head whipped up as he saw movement in his periphery, his stomach lurching.

Skylar walked up and took a seat at the table next to Jiwon, setting his packed lunch on the table. He smiled as the others greeted him.

He’d been looking a lot happier since the year started, Cirrus noticed. Even behind those clunky glasses of his, he didn’t have dark circles under his eyes anymore. His eyes were bright, and he seemed more relaxed around a group of people. He’d even tanned a bit since he’d started playing soccer more often.

He was also so, so far away. Cirrus kept looking over at him, noting how sad his lunch was. Did he make the same sandwich himself each morning? He seemed to forget a drink half the time.

Cirrus hadn’t opened his lemonade yet. He didn’t know why that thought occurred to him. It’d be absurd to give the other boy his drink in front of everyone else, like some weird, random offering.

Those large brown suddenly eyes met his own, and Cirrus flinched as he reflexively looked away. A jolt of adrenaline coursed through his veins.

Why did he feel so damn intimidated? It was just Skylar. At this point, given everything they’d been through together, it made no sense that he’d feel this automatically anxious just from making eye contact. Wasn’t that Skylar’s job? And why was the cafeteria suddenly sweltering?

He kept to himself for the rest of lunch, his instincts confused with the push and pull of wanting to look over at the other end of the table, but feeling oddly fearful of doing so.

✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ☂･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

Something was seriously wrong with him.

He couldn’t diagnose what it was. It was like a festering infection that refused to go away. He didn’t know what had caused it or what it was, but it got worse with each passing day.

When he was ten years old, he’d been too nervous to look at anyone else. He couldn’t open his mouth and talk to other people. He simply didn’t know how. It was much easier to keep to himself and hope that nobody would engage with him. That’d resulted in a good amount of bullying.

Until, of course, he properly took matters into his own hands.

Something about standing on those stairs, openly staring down with a burning satisfaction, triggered a change in him. After that point, he realized that making direct eye contact wasn’t so hard. Actually, there was a power in unflinching observation. He’d practiced reading people and responding accordingly. The better he got at that, the more confident he felt that he could appear like the perfect person. It didn’t matter if others wanted to stare at him when it was somewhere between neutral and admiring.

Eight years later, all of those skills seemed to implode at the worst times. He found himself repeatedly pinned to the ground, caught in a state of panic under the crushing weight of Skylar’s gaze. Those chestnut eyes threatened to swallow him whole.

What did the other boy see when he looked at Cirrus - his current self or that frightened ten-year-old?

He’d tested himself by flagrantly staring at other people in the hallways. It wasn’t fun, but he had no difficulty maintaining eye contact until the other person looked away first. That’s usually how it was. Other people’s faces would turn red and they’d start acting jittery when he met their gaze. That was all boring and normal.

So it was just Skylar.

The absurdity of the situation baffled him. Several months ago, he’d been unaffected to the point of easily grabbing the other boy’s face and planting a long kiss on him. Staring at him and watching him squirm had been an interesting pastime. So what the hell happened?

He wanted to ask someone else what this problem was, but there wasn’t a person he trusted with this information. Nobody could know about any of this.

✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ☂･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

On the Friday of that third week, all the seniors were released early.

Cirrus had immediately gathered his belongings, watching the front corner of the room. Skylar and Ji-gyeom were talking, yet again, packing up at the same time.

No, Cirrus thought. No no no no no no. Was Ji-gyeom seriously going to stick with Skylar all the way to his damn apartment? Again? Hadn’t they walked home together enough?

This required a quick intervention. It was going to finally be his week, when he got to reclaim what should’ve been his time.

He determinedly strode down the aisle of seats, weaving between his classmates.

“Ji-gyeom,” he called as he walked up to the pair of them.

The other boy turned and looked at him with a surprised expression. “Hey Cirrus, you headed home?” he asked. “Wanna come to the PC cafe with me? I was just trying to convince Skylar to come.”

Skylar was smiling as he shook his head. “I’m terrible at video games.”

“I bet you’re better than Seung-yeon and Jiwon at the very least,” Ji-gyeom said comfortingly.

“You should meet up with Chan-il and ask him to go with you. I think he was looking for you earlier today,” Cirrus unapologetically lied so that the other boy would stop trying to persuade Skylar. “He might still be in his classroom if you run right now.”

He was nervous that Ji-gyeom would refuse to take the bait, but predictably, the other boy’s eyes lit up. “Okay, yeah, I’ll go try to track him down. I’ll see you at the cafe then?”

Smiling at him, Cirrus shrugged. “Maybe. I’ll try to come.”

Hell no, he wasn’t going to go.

It was a relief to watch Ji-gyeom hurry away.

When he realized Skylar was looking up at him, Cirrus felt that terrible, apprehensive feeling welling up in him again. He forced himself to appear completely unmoved.

“Are you headed home now?” he evenly asked, then immediately second-guessed if that was the right thing to say.

Skylar nodded. “Yeah. I was thinking about going to the bookstore on my way back though.”

“Me too,” Cirrus eagerly blurted out, and something inside of him wilted in embarrassment. “I had a textbook I needed to get,” he calmly added. “Wanna go together?”

The dark-haired boy’s gaze might’ve lingered on him for just a beat too long, but his face was neutral. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He led the way out of the classroom.

Even just a couple of months ago, if Cirrus had asked Skylar to go somewhere with him, there’d be that preliminary negotiation stage with lots of reluctance and suspicion. Before that, the other boy would just object entirely.

Recently, they’d had an unsettling camaraderie. Skylar didn’t look wary or disgusted or angry by default when he looked at him anymore. The times that he actually looked comfortable or pleased felt like an achievement. However, now that the spitefulness and resentment had largely dissipated, an awkwardness had filled the empty space.

“So what class is your textbook for?” Skylar asked him.

He looked over in surprise, not expecting the question. “Oh, uh, it’s just a supplementary thing for calculus,” he chuckled a little nervously.

“So you do study,” Skylar glanced over at him with an amused expression as they walked down the stairs. “I never see you in the study space with the rest of us, so I wasn’t sure.”

Cirrus felt his face flush, his pride a little wounded. “Of course I study. Do you think I make the highest scores on tests by learning through osmosis?”

Skylar laughed.

That sound…he’d heard it before, but it always stood out.

“Well, yeah, I guess I did think that,” Skylar’s tone became defensive, but he was still smiling. “It was only recently I found out you’re a real human.”

Cirrus snorted. “As opposed to what? A robot?”

“More like some kind of demon,” the other boy responded.

He raised an eyebrow. “Damn, that bad, huh?”

After thinking for a moment, he felt a smug look creep onto his face. “Or maybe it’s good? Like the badass, sexy kind of demon?”

Skylar’s cheeks brightened and he glared at Cirrus as he pushed one of the side exits to the school open for both of them.

“You’re always so full of yourself,” he reprimanded the taller boy.

Now, this was a dynamic he was pleasantly familiar with.

“Maybe. But you didn’t dispute what I said,” Cirrus lightly said. Skylar sighed, clearly exasperated.

It was a nice day outside. Spring was in full bloom, and so was the foliage. The sun was shining, the sky a pretty cerulean, a light breeze rustling through the leaves of the trees around the building.

He really hoped that they wouldn’t run into anyone else they knew. That would be the only thing that could ruin this day.

“What are you getting then?” Cirrus asked.

Skylar shifted a little awkwardly. “I’m also getting some study guides. My grades aren’t exactly where they need to be for college admissions.”

Ah. Cirrus remembered the ache of the left side of his face, the taste of metallic on his tongue. Skylar had blamed him for his grades dropping, hadn’t he? It wasn’t totally unfair.

“I could help you,” he heard himself say. “If you want, I mean.”

Why had he done that? He’d sounded so painfully timid at the end of his sentence.

Skylar looked over at him as they made it past the school gate. He had a skeptical look on his face. “No offense, but I’m not sure you’re cut out to be the best teacher.”

Every time they talked, Cirrus’ ego seemed to get knocked further down. He pouted.

“Hey, I’m a perfectly good teacher. I won’t even charge you money for my services.”

“You-“ Skylar looked scandalized. “You owe me compensation for ruining my grades, so that’s not even generous.”

Cirrus sighed. “Okay, fine. I can just sneak you into the math academy, they won’t even notice you’re there.”

He nudged Skylar with his elbow. “Plus you’ll get to see Candy more often. I know you love her.”

The way the dark-haired man blushed was the obvious signifier that Cirrus was correct.

“She’s very cute, I’ll give you that,” he admitted, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Reflecting on it, Candy and Skylar were charmingly similar.

Stubborn, adorable, messy hair, soft. His.

As they kept talking, Cirrus lost track of time. It felt like they reached the bookstore way too quickly.

Once inside, he was forced to grab a random book that he hoped didn’t look completely ridiculous. Skylar seemed to be familiar with the store, effortlessly finding what he needed.

Each book the other boy picked up he turned over, checking the price tag with a frown. Cirrus could see the gears turning in his head as he did some cost benefit analysis in his head. Then he’d sigh and add it to his small stack.

“You don’t have to wait for me,” Skylar had noticed he was standing there watching him.

“I know,” Cirrus responded.

Of course he’d wait for the other boy. He couldn’t tell Skylar that he wasn’t actually there for books at all. Part of him did wish that Skylar would be a little clingier.

He wondered how often Skylar thought of him when they weren’t together. Never? Sometimes?

“C’mon,” the other boy nudged him and Cirrus obediently followed him to the checkout line.

After they left, Cirrus casually set off walking alongside Skylar. The street wasn’t that crowded at that time of day, when most people were still at work or school. It was the exact opposite direction from his home.

“So, the new seating arrangement,” he mentioned. He looked over at the other boy, trying to read his face. “You seem to like sitting next to Ji-gyeom.” The words felt like ash in his mouth.

When Skylar turned to meet his eyes, his head swiveled away automatically. He hated this self-consciousness.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” the dark-haired boy said. “Ji-gyeom didn’t like me very much last year, so I’m glad we’re friends now. He’s a little distracting in class, though.” He rubbed a hand through the hair on the back of his head. “Sometimes I miss the old layout.”

Cirrus’ eyes widened. It was deeply satisfying to hear that it wasn’t all rosy flirtations between them. He’d been afraid that Skylar would be completely charmed by that doofus. Especially given that his type was apparently goofy and annoying.

“I miss it too,” he admitted.

Skylar smiled. “You’re so far away now. I used to have to look at the back of your head all day.”

You noticed the distance between us? You’ve been thinking about me? Do you miss me? So many questions threatened to pour out of his mouth that he couldn’t ask.

“Was it nice?” he asked instead.

“What?” Skylar tilted his head in confusion.

“The back of my head,” Cirrus grinned.

The other boy gave him an inscrutable look. “Lots of dandruff,” he flatly stated.

Cirrus stopped walking, horrified. “You’re lying,” he said.

Skylar also halted, watching his face. A moment later, he burst into laughter.

“Your face. It’s just too good.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Cirrus growled. He took a step closer and reached out, ruffling the other boy’s hair. The dark strands that ran through his fingers were surprisingly silky. The only thing that would’ve been softer was Candy.

He’d touched Skylar’s hair before, teasing him about having a piece of lint in it and running his hands through it then too.

But things were somehow different now. His hand was burning, and Skylar was so soft, and he couldn’t move a muscle as their eyes met.

He couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to slide his hand further, fingers trailing over Skylar’s temple, down his cheek. What would happen then? Why was he imagining leaning down, getting closer?

What if Cirrus was the guy Skylar had had a crush on this whole time? Would he let Cirrus tug him closer? Would he even want to be kissed? Was there any reality in which Skylar would be the one to initiate something like that?

Skylar’s eyebrows furrowed as he reached up, his fingers brushing the wrist of the hand on his head.

Cirrus recoiled as though he’d been burnt, and his face suddenly felt like it was on fire.

How long had he been standing there like that?

Why did he suddenly have all of those thoughts?

What the hell? How was kissing related to anything?

The shorter boy was watching him with a troubled expression. Cirrus wasn’t sure what exactly the other boy was feeling or thinking, but he didn’t seem happy. Had he somehow known what had been going through his head a moment ago? Was he totally transparent?

Cirrus’ chest felt tight.

“I should go,” he hoped his voice didn’t sound as dazed as he felt.

“I-“ the words got stuck in his throat. He didn’t know if he wanted to make a bad joke or come up some excuse or act like nothing had happened at all. It was like his brain had disintegrated.

Skylar frowned. “Cirrus-“ he started to say.

He panicked. He couldn’t help it, he didn’t want to be confronted when he was rapidly losing a grip on the situation.

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

Cirrus turned on his heel and strode off, knowing full well he was basically just running away after making a fool of himself. He was sure Skylar thought he was acting erratically.

The entire way back, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to scream or cry. This was one of the few opportunities he’d had Skylar all to himself. Instead of making the most of it and leaving a good impression, he’d probably just driven the other boy further away.

He hated being humiliated.

It was even worse when he was the one embarrassing himself.

✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ☂･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

There was a time when Skylar was the one running away from Cirrus, desperately trying to avoid him.

Tables turned shockingly easily.

Cirrus had spent a significant chunk of the weekend pacing around and reminding himself that everything was fine. He hadn’t really ruined anything. He could explain his weird behavior. It wasn’t a big deal. So what, he pet Skylar’s head and froze up while having absurd visions? It didn’t mean anything specific.

He just had to act normal.

The moment he stepped into the classroom that Monday, disaster struck.

Skylar was sitting near the door now, which he still wasn’t used to, and the dark-haired boy immediately looked up with those big eyes of his. They briefly made eye contact and time ground to a halt.

Despite all of his internal pep talks and a decade of training his face to stay neutral in times of heightened emotion, Cirrus felt his eyes widen, his footsteps faltering slightly. He felt an instinctive urge to either run or cover his face with both of his hands. Instead, he hoped his bangs concealed some of it as he dropped his head and hurried to his desk.

His cheeks burned. The more he willed them to quit it, the worse it seemed to get. Was he upset? Angry? Ashamed? What for? He didn’t understand what he was feeling.

That annoying guy sitting next to him tried to start a conversation with him as soon as he reached his seat.

Cirrus just glared down at his hands in his lap. His nails were digging into his palms as his fists clenched.

He was losing control of everything. He couldn’t have Skylar all to himself. He couldn’t magically switch off Skylar’s feelings for Chan-il. Now he couldn’t control his own behavior around the other boy.

What the hell was he going to do?

When the bell rang for lunch, Cirrus stayed in his desk as there was a flurry of movement around him, wondering what he should do. He didn’t feel like going to the cafeteria. The thought of being surrounded by a crowd and having Skylar right there...it’d be terrible. His other lunches had been too awkward and stressful to even eat.

Yeah, he thought, leaning over to slide his notebook back into his backpack. He should just let everyone else leave and then go to the vending machines. He could knock out some homework too. It’d be very productive.

“Cirrus.”

He flinched at the sound of that voice.

It was physically painful to look up. Skylar stared down at him, a serious expression on his face.

“Skylar,” Cirrus said weakly, suppressing a flinch. He prayed he looked completely impassive, but he was on the brink of breaking out into a full, pained expression. Skylar usually never came over to his desk, so this was unnerving.

The other boy put his hands on his table, leaning down towards him. His face was getting close. Cirrus could really make out how long and dark his eyelashes were. Those eyes were frighteningly piercing. And his lips. They were full, so soft.

Nope. He couldn’t do this. Not when he was in this terrible, weakened state.

“Uh, I wanted to ask-“

Before Skylar could finish his question, Cirrus succumbed to the urge to flee. He hastily slid out of his desk, his heart thudding out of his chest.

“I need to go,” he exclaimed. “I have a call to make. Let’s talk later.”

He practically jogged around Skylar and out of the classroom, unable to make eye contact with anyone.

It wasn’t until he slowed down by the soccer club room, sweat dripping down his face, that he realized he’d left his phone behind.

On his desk. Where Skylar had probably seen it.

He wanted to melt into the floor.

✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ☂･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

He was going to murder Ji-gyeom.

It’d be an exciting way to check off multiple boxes. He wouldn’t have to go to school anymore, he could piss off his father, humiliate Jisu, and finally get rid of a chronic pest. The downside was not being able to even glimpse Skylar ever again. Oh, and being a murderer wasn’t exactly great.

They were only at the fifth week. The entire time, Ji-gyeom had stuck to Skylar like gum on the bottom of a shoe. He kept touching the other boy too. He’d sling his arm over his shoulders, put a hand on his arm, tug on his shirt, all without a second thought. Skylar didn’t look upset about it either.

This was atrocious.

He was already furious, glaring into his locker, when Chan-il walked up to him, waving cheerily.

“Hey, how was class?” the orange-haired boy asked with a corny smile. His phone was clutched in his hand, just like it had been every damn moment of every day of the semester.

“Uh, too long,” Cirrus responded, forcing himself to look neutral. “How about you?”

Chan-il shrugged. “Basically same. I keep having to sneak around behind the teacher’s back. She always gets so pissed when she sees someone using a phone. But I have to check my texts, you know?” He sighed dreamily. “I can’t leave Ri-in waiting too long. She’s an angel.”

He glanced over at Cirrus and did a double-take.

“O-oh, uh - are you okay?” Chan-il hesitantly asked.

He hadn’t even realized that he was angrily grimacing at the other boy. He was getting sloppy.

“Sorry, I just have a headache,” he flatly said, running a hand through his hair and shutting his locker.

What he really wanted to say was oh, fuck off with all your stupid bullshit. Nobody cares about your ridiculous relationship and your stupid starry eyes every time you go on a long monologue about how perfect your girlfriend is. We get it, you’re in love and it worked out great for you. The only reason you both met was so that I could have Skylar to myself, but instead you got a girlfriend and things are just worse for me. So just shut the fuck up about it and stop rubbing it in my face.

As usual, he had to let it simmer silently as he just nodded along to whatever the other boy said. He hated everything so much.

✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ☂･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

Once things started going downhill, misfortune only seemed to gather momentum, snowballing into an imminent train wreck.

This time, it was only a couple of days later when the gym class merged with their soccer practice.

The catastrophe came in the form of two boys sitting together on the bleachers. Cirrus almost tripped over his own cleats as he glared in their direction during a practice match, halfheartedly running after his teammates.

Just because Skylar and Ji-gyeom were sitting out for a few minutes didn’t mean they could just go off and start flirting up a storm with each other nonstop. He glimpsed the two of them laughing and wanted to throw up all over the field.

What were they talking about? Why were they laughing?

Were they sharing a water bottle? And were their knees pressed together?

He felt a white hot spike of anger as he saw Ji-gyeom reach out and ruffle Skylar’s hair.

Okay. It’d all been crossing the line, but this was just too much. He needed to do something. Kick the ball in their direction? Run over and berate them for something?

Wham.

Stars burst across his vision, and everything suddenly became pain. He took a step backwards in shock.

He belatedly realized that his face had caught the ball, and it had been moving fast. Somehow, he hadn’t fallen over, but his nose throbbed and his eyes stung with tears. He slowly blinked his eyes open, stunned. Things were blurry, and the sunlight hurt his eyes. He raised his hands to his face.

“Oh shit, are you okay?” he heard Yoochan ask, and some of his teammates gathered around him.

Was he actually awake right now? Or was he just in a nightmare?

He hated that there was a group of people crowded there, gawking at him. Actually, he was kind of afraid and incredibly embarrassed.

“I’m doddally fine,” he said, hating being under scrutiny while he was in pain, then felt his stomach drop. Why did talking feel like that?

Cirrus slowly lowered his hands. His fingers came away red, and he became of warmth dripping over his mouth and down his chin.

This was fine, right? He’d had nosebleeds a bunch of times in the past. Actually, was that true? He couldn’t really think when his head hurt this much and his senses were overwhelming him.

At least his nose didn’t feel obviously broken, but there was an impressive amount of blood trickling out of it.

“I dunno man, you should probably go to the nurse’s office,” Yoochan looked concerned.

“I don’ need do, I’ll jusd sid down,” he protested, and then regretted talking. He could taste the iron in his mouth, and tears were drying on his cheeks.

He jumped when a voice spoke behind him.

“Hey, c’mere. What were you thinking?”

Before he could react, a hand closed around his arm, pulling him around.

A familiar figure stepped close to him and a hand firmly gripped his chin, pulling his head down and forward. They had a soft expression on his face as he looked up at him.

Cirrus was stunned.

His first thought was that this guy was strikingly handsome. The clunky glasses were a little annoying. But he could still see his radiant eyes and adorably sloping nose.

His second thought was the terrible realization that he knew this boy. This was Skylar, and it was very, very important that he thought Cirrus was attractive and smart and worth talking to.

He probably would’ve run away if he didn’t also feel dizzy. He must look like shit right now. The other boy shouldn’t see him like this.

“Waid,” he started to panic, grabbing Skylar’s shoulders and trying to push him back. “I’m fine, don’d loog ad me righd now.”

The dark-haired man looked exasperated.

“Stop talking,” he sternly commanded.

Cirrus’ eyes widened, and he obediently fell silent.

Unexpectedly, Skylar’s fingers pinched his nose closed.

He honked indignantly.

“Breathe out of your mouth,” Skylar said, and he reached up with his other hand to wipe at his chin and lips with a damp towel. He was completely calm.

Why are you doing this, Cirrus thought at him, unable to speak, his hands resting gently on the other boy’s shoulders because it felt like the ground was moving under his feet.

Please forget that I ever looked this damn pathetic in front of you. I don’t want you to see me like this. Just let me go lie down by myself in some corner and bleed out alone, Cirrus imagined saying.

“Can you take him to the infirmary?” the coach asked Skylar. “He might be a little concussed.”

Skylar nodded.

“You okay? Want me to come too?” another voice spoke up from nearby.

This one Cirrus didn’t like at all right now. Oddly enough, he couldn’t remember this guy’s name, with the black hair parted down the middle and what appeared to be hilarious tan lines around his eyes. He just knew he didn’t want this boy coming with them.

Skylar, being the savior that he was, shook his head. “No, it’s okay, I’ve got this.”

Thankfully, the annoying boy and the rest of the team slowly went back to the game instead of staring at him like he was a sick form of entertainment.

“I’m gonna let go now, let’s see if the bleeding stopped,” Skylar slowly released his nose, which ached. Cirrus winced.

“Ow! Id hurds,” he whined.

The shorter boy seemed to be satisfied with what he saw, reaching up to dab the towel gently under his nose, as though trying not to hurt him.

Even though he wanted to crawl under a rock to suffer by himself, Cirrus also found himself unable to look away from Skylar. He was standing so close. Cirrus’ blood was smeared on his hand, but he seemed unbothered by it.

“It’s a lot better now,” he sighed. “Let’s get you inside, you baby.”

“Ogay,” he said, staring down at Skylar, studying the look on his face with fascination. The other boy had this small smile on his face, not malicious, but as though he were fond of someone. It felt good to know that expression was likely directed at him.

He was beautiful.

He jumped when a hand slipped into his.

“Let’s go then. You still seem kinda dazed,” Skylar gently tugged on his hand, and Cirrus followed him back towards the building, squinting in the light.

When he stumbled a little, dizzy, they slowed down. He wasn’t paying attention to where they were going, just keeping his eyes on the dark, fluffy head of hair in front of him.

Skylar’s hand was so warm and soft in his. Had he held it before? He couldn’t remember. He was struggling to recall much of anything at the moment.

He bumped into the other boy’s back when they suddenly stopped in front of a door.

“This is the infirmary,” Skylar explained, pointing at the door.

Cirrus felt his stomach drop. What did this mean?

Was he going to have to go in alone? Was Skylar going to pull his hand away?

Would he leave?

He was starting to feel scared, even though he didn’t know where the fear was coming from. He tugged on Skylar’s hand, trying to not so subtly prevent him from opening the door.

“What’s up?” the dark-haired boy frowned at him. “Let’s go in, okay?”

He turned the door handle and pushed it open.

Cirrus couldn’t protest as the other boy pulled him into the room, but his eyes were wide. It was a decently sized space, with a few beds and cabinets of medical supplies. There wasn’t a ton of sunlight filtering into the room, which was a relief.

“Ah, soccer injury?” the nurse stood up from her desk when she saw them, looking at their outfits and then at the blood on Cirrus’ face and shirt.

“Yeah, the ball smacked him in the face pretty hard,” Skylar explained. “The coach was worried he could be concussed, and his nose was bleeding a lot.”

She nodded and gestured for Cirrus to sit down on a nearby bed.

He looked at it, then back at Skylar, conflicted. He squeezed the hand that was in his, trying not to sway. It was difficult to keep his balance steady.

He shuffled closer to the other boy, turning his back on the nurse.

“Dylar, you…you’re gonna leab?” he asked nervously.

He couldn’t let this other boy go. If Skylar left, even just let go of his hand, something really awful would happen.

Skylar looked up at him, his eyes wide. Then he sighed, looking past him at the nurse.

“He’s definitely acting concussed,” he said.

He guided Cirrus over to the bed, pushing him down so he sat on the edge of it. Their hands were still linked. Whether that was because Cirrus refused to let go or Skylar had kept holding it was unclear.

“Cirrus, how are you feeling?” Skylar leaned over him.

Things were a little blurry and jumbled up and his face hurt, but he could ignore all of that, especially as he stared up at the other boy’s face. Yeah, he just wanted to look at that face.

“Cirrus?” Skylar repeated, shaking his hand.

He blinked, surprised. “Whad?”

“I asked how you were feeling,” the dark-haired boy looked amused.

That smile. He really liked it, when it was because of him.

The nurse sighed. “Let’s let him lie down and I’ll check some of his symptoms.”

He obediently laid back when Skylar pushed him over. It was like the other boy knew exactly what to do, and Cirrus felt that he should listen to him.

When the other boy tried pulling his hand away, Cirrus refused to let go.

“Waid!” he winced as he spoke too loudly. “Don’d go. Day here.”

The nurse chuckled sympathetically. “He may be disoriented right now if he’s concussed. He probably feels less scared with a friend. I can let you stay for a bit if you want.”

Cirrus didn’t care for what the nurse had to say. Scared or disoriented? Those were silly words. She couldn’t understand anything about why he needed Skylar. More importantly, why wasn’t the other boy saying anything? He was going to leave, wasn’t he? He didn’t understand why, but he had to stop him.

To his surprise, Skylar sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

The nurse came over, standing beside the two of them and holding a clipboard.

She leaned over, suddenly shining a terrible light into his eyes. He practically growled, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Sorry about that, I needed to check your pupils,” she said, her tone sympathetic.

“I just want to ask you a couple of questions, okay? What’s your full name?” she asked, her pen moving over the paper on the clipboard.

He opened his eyes and scowled at her, refusing to answer. That was personal information. Besides, the tone of her voice, like she was talking to a little kid, was annoying him. None of this was necessary. He was fine.

A hand squeezed his own, and he looked over at Skylar.

“Stop being stubborn. She wants to help. Answer her questions,” he said.

Well, he didn’t trust the nurse, but Cirrus did trust Skylar right now. That was something he could just take for granted.

“Ogay,” he slowly reluctantly. “My name id Cirrud.”

“He’s saying Cirrus,” Skylar translated.

“Okay, great. What’s your last name, Cirrus?” she wrote something on a clipboard.

He opened his mouth, internally scoffing at how easy the question was.

The word was on the tip of his tongue. He could practically feel the weight and shape of the word forming, but it stubbornly refused to reveal itself. The cold realization that he didn’t know the answer started to sink in. Disturbed, he looked over at Skylar, furrowing his eyebrows.

He was going to fail this test, wasn’t he?

Would the other boy think he was really unintelligent? Why did he need to humiliated right now? Why couldn’t he remember something so basic?

“How about what day of the week it is?” the nurse asked.

His free hand clenched into a fist. He was still agonizing over the strange void that his last name had become, and the last thing he needed was to be bombarded with these stupid questions he didn’t know the answer to.

Day of the week? The only thing he knew was that it wasn’t the weekend and he was getting increasingly overwhelmed.

What he did know for a fact was that he needed to get out of here. He tugged on Skylar’s hand, feeling panic.

“Dylar, I don’d wanna day here,” he frustratedly said. “Can we leab now? Blease?”

He wasn’t sure if the stinging in his eyes was a new sensation, given how sore and damp his face already was.

Skylar looked surprised, his eyebrows raising. He leaned over, and Cirrus closed his eyes as he felt fingers wiping his cheeks.

“It’s okay, Cirrus,” he said, and the hand stilled, resting on his cheek for a moment. It felt warm. His voice was reassuring. “You don’t need to answer right now, alright? You’re okay.”

He opened his eyes, blinking up at Skylar. His eyes, even when his vision couldn’t clearly focus on things, were a wonderful shade of brown. It was such a deep color.

Okay, he thought, taking a deep breath. He could be okay. Maybe he even was okay.

“I think it’s safe to say he’s concussed,” Skylar spoke to the nurse. “His balance hasn’t been great, and he’s been squinting a lot too.”

The nurse nodded. “I agree. He needs rest right now more than anything else. I’ll also give him some medication to help with the pain.”

She spoke to Cirrus again.

“Are you feeling nauseous? Like you might throw up?” she asked.

He glared at her. A moment later, he guiltily shot a sideways look at Skylar.

Defeated, he shook his head no.

“Are you sleepy?” Skylar asked him softly.

Cirrus shook his head again.

“Good. It only seems to be mild, so he doesn’t need to go to the hospital. He’s having trouble recalling things, but his memories should come back within a couple of days at most, if not sooner.” The nurse sounded pleased as she walked over to one side of the room and started rummaging through a cabinet. “Right now, it’s hard to tell if his nose is broken, but it looks alright. We can check that after some of the initial scabbing clears up.”

She came back over with some pills and water.

“Can you sit up?” she asked Cirrus.

“Yeb, bud whad are dose?” he asked suspiciously, slowly pulling himself up.

“It’s just Tylenol,” the dark-haired boy responded. “It’ll help you feel better.”

When the nurse tried to raise the cup to his mouth, he moved his head away. He wished she would stop trying to make him do things. Why should he listen to her?

“Cirrus, look at me.”

He immediately turned when he heard Skylar’s voice. The other boy smiled at him, looking amused. “Take your meds, you little baby.”

“Fug you,” Cirrus sourly responded, but he forced himself to accept the medication anyway. He wasn’t a baby. Skylar would see that.

A minute later, the woman handed Skylar a washcloth.

“For his face,” she said. She smiled. “I have a feeling he’d prefer if you do it instead of me.”

Cirrus winced as the other boy rubbed the dried blood and salt off of his face. His skin felt raw. He occasionally tried to squirm away, but Skylar wasn’t deterred. Thankfully, the torture only lasted for a couple of minutes. A small amount of blood still trickled down his throat and lingered in his nose, but it was negligible compared to earlier.

The nurse sighed. “He should stay here for at least a couple of hours. Then he should go straight home and rest for a few days. The less he performs any activities or thinks, the better. Because he got hit in the nose, he might have bruising around his eyes, he could use ice packs. Also, he’ll need someone to pick him up.”

Skylar hesitated. “Could you write some of those down? I don’t know that he’ll remember.”

She nodded. “I’ll type them up and print them later.”

He glanced over at Cirrus with a frown, then looked then back at her. “Um, well, I can ask my mom if she could pick us up and drop him off at home?”

“Can his parents come get him?” the nurse asked.

Cirrus snorted, then winced when pain stabbed into his forehead.

Parents.

He couldn’t even envision their faces at the moment, but he didn’t need a functioning brain to know there wasn’t anyone around who fit that description.

“I don’t think so,” Skylar said quietly. “It’s okay, my mom knows him. She won’t mind.” His eyes widened. “Shit, I left my phone in my locker. Cirrus, I have to go get it, okay? But I’ll be right back.”

“Waid!” His stomach dropped. “You hab do go? Righd now?”

Skylar nodded. “So I can help you go home, okay?”

“Bud you’ll come bag?”

“I’ll come back, I promise,” the dark-haired boy squeezed Cirrus’ hand. Then he chuckled and pulled it away.

It was terrible watching the other boy vanish out of the doorway, Cirrus’ hand growing cold.

He felt vulnerable without him there. The nurse unsettled him too. It wasn’t even anything about her specifically, but he felt so much safer when Skylar was there.

He closed his eyes, which hurt his retinas less. Please, he thought. Don’t take too long. Come back. He didn’t even want to imagine the other boy just leaving him there for good.

Some part of his brain kept trying to remind him of something, make sense of the events that had led up to him lying here. But he was tired, and it was so hard to recall information at the moment. At least the nurse didn’t attempt to talk to him.

After what felt like a lifetime, he heard the nurse get out of her chair and the sound of footsteps. When he opened his eyes, a radiant, blurry boy was in the doorway, this time holding his backpack.

“Dylar!” he exclaimed, relieved.

“Okay, my mom can get us,” the other boy said, and crossed the room back to the bed to sit on the edge. “The school day is basically over anyway.”

He gasped in surprise as Cirrus reached up, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him down on top of him.

“Hey! You want another nosebleed?” Skylar scolded him. “Stop moving around so much, you’re supposed to be resting.”

“Jusd resd wid me,” Cirrus said. He squeezed the other boy like he was an oversized stuffed animal. “I won’d led you go.”

Skylar’s cheeks flushed, but he didn’t look angry. “You’re such a weirdo,” he said, and shifted over so he was lying next to Cirrus instead of on top of him. He let the taller boy hug him as he typed something on his phone.

The light from the screen made his eyes ache, so Cirrus closed them, pressing his forehead into Skylar’s shoulder.

He stayed like that for a while. It was warm. Although his head and nose hurt, and he hated being in the infirmary, he felt completely secure.

He wasn’t sure if he dozed off or just lost track of time, but he blinked his eyes open when a hand gently shook his shoulder. There was still something heavy and warm in his arms. He didn’t want to move.

“Cirrus, it’s time to go,” Skylar softly said.

When he raised his head, he realized he’d left blood on the other boy’s sleeve. He hoped that Skylar wouldn’t get mad about it. So far, he didn’t seem to care.

“Okay,” he raspily said, sniffling. One positive was that although he was still congested, it didn’t seem to be getting worse. Maybe it was even slightly less terrible. But a negative was that his brain was a little less fuzzy and he was starting to feel more self-conscious. He released Skylar, and silently watched as the other boy stood.

Skylar thanked the nurse, and led them down the hallway, his hand wrapped around Cirrus’. The shorter boy kept looking over at him. Was he worried? A part of him hoped so.

They stopped by Cirrus’ locker. For a suspenseful minute, he struggled to remember the combination. Thankfully, when he put a hand on the combination lock, his muscle memory helped him out. He picked up his backpack. His phone was easy to slide into the pocket of his shorts.

“Let’s go this way,” Skylar said, starting to walk down the hallway. He turned when he realized that the other boy wasn’t following him.

When Cirrus looked at Skylar with large eyes, his bag in his hands, the dark-haired boy shot him a look that was somehow simultaneously soft and annoyed.

“You’re such a baby,” he said, taking the bag from him and slinging it over one shoulder in addition to his own. He grabbed Cirrus’ hand and dragged him towards the exit.

A few minutes later, he and Skylar were greeted at the front of the school by a concerned looking woman with brown hair and eyes that were a familiar shade. He shaded his eyes with his free hand, the sunlight searing into his retinas.

“Skylar! I was so surprised when you called, but I’m glad you did. I got off work early today,” Skylar’s mother sounded worried. She turned to Cirrus, looking up at him with a frown. She put a hand on his arm, and he flinched a little.

“Cirrus, how are you doing? Oh no, your face. I heard about what happened. Are you in pain? Let’s get you home. Did you call your parents already?”

Part of him was almost scared for an adult to be asking him these kinds of questions. He wanted to reflexively feel bitterness as a reaction towards this woman. Those words coming from a parental figure should have been disingenuous by default. But the way that she was looking at him seemed to hold legitimate care. Although he wasn’t doing great on the recalling memories front, he knew that she wasn’t an unkind person.

Also, it was hard to feel resentful when all he could see was Skylar in her eyes, reflected across her face.

“Mom, please give him some space,” Skylar said, sounding embarrassed. “He’s still out of it and just wants to go home. Let’s get him out of the sun.”

She sighed, looking a little exasperated with her son.

“Fine, fine, my car is over here,” she guided them over to her car. It was at least a decade old now and worn, but still functional. “What’s your address, Cirrus?” she asked, opening the passenger seat door for him.

He didn’t move, holding onto Skylar’s hand. He’d probably be fine if he let go now, but he didn’t want to sit by himself. Should he say something? Ask Skylar if he’d want to sit with him?

Skylar pushed the front door shut and pulled one of the backseat doors open with a sigh. “Ugh, c’mon, baby,” he said, gently pushing Cirrus down into the seat and sliding in next to him.

His mother seemed to awkwardly linger by the side of the car, but she eventually went around and sat in the driver’s seat.

“Cirrus?” Skylar nudged his leg with his knee. “Do you remember your address? I think I recall the neighborhood at least.”

Honestly, he didn’t remember it exactly. Things were slowly coming back to him, and he could guess the street name, but number was still inaccessible.

He took too long to reply, because Skylar reached over, jamming a hand into his gym shorts. Cirrus jumped, his face heating up with shock at the sudden feeling of the other boy’s fingers on his thigh. It took him a moment to realize that the other boy was just trying to pull his phone out of his pocket.

“Look over here,” Skylar held the phone up to his face so it’d unlock. “I’m sure your address is in here, right?”

His fingers scrolled across the screen.

Cirrus hoped that he didn’t have anything super embarrassing pulled up on his phone. Did he have any pictures of Skylar? He wasn’t sure. But if he did, he probably looked at them a lot. He wouldn’t want anyone else to know that, right?

“Ah, got it,” the dark-haired boy sounded triumphant. He pulled his hand out of Cirrus’, ignoring the indignant sound he made, and leaned over to the front of the car to help his mother enter the address into her phone. The two of them talked quietly to each other for a bit.

He couldn’t resist glancing down.

Skylar had a very cute butt.

He flinched when Skylar fell back into his seat, hastily looking away and feeling weirdly guilty.

The other boy sighed for the hundredth time, reaching over to pull Cirrus’ seatbelt on. It clicked into place.

As Skylar’s mother drove away from the school, Cirrus leaned over and rested his head on Skylar’s shoulder. He was so tired, in a way distinct from sleepiness. The nurse had said that he needed to rest for a few days, he remembered. He supposed he’d be missing a bit of school then. That definitely wasn’t the end of the world.

They were all mostly quiet for the rest of the drive. Skylar and his mom occasionally spoke to one another, but it was hard to focus on the dialogue. It wasn’t that long before the car pulled up to Cirrus’ house.

“You don’t have to get out, I can take care of him,” Skylar told his mother.

“Thank you,” Cirrus politely said to her on his way out of the car. He didn’t want to leave a terrible impression. It was Skylar’s mom, after all.

She smiled at him. “Anytime. I hope you feel better.”

Skylar walked him through his gate to his front door, still carrying his backpack. Cirrus rang the doorbell, not even bothering to search for the keys.

“Are you gonna be able to go upstairs?” the shorter boy asked, looking hesitant.

He nodded. “I’m not that dizzy anymore, don’t worry.”

There was a moment of awkward silence as they waited.

“You helped me a lot today,” Cirrus said, and his cheeks felt warm. He wanted to hide his face behind his hands. “Thank you.”

Behind his glasses, Skylar’s eyes were wide. “I think this is the first time you’ve thanked me,” he said, and then he smiled.

Oh, Cirrus realized, a couple of neurons in his brain finally reestablishing contact. This was the exact feeling that had been overwhelming him for weeks. He felt like he was frozen in place, and the urge to bolt was growing. His face was becoming hot, and he didn’t want Skylar to keep staring at him like that.

The amount of self-consciousness he felt was agonizing. And those damn brown eyes...

“You’re doing it again,” Skylar said quietly.

He flinched, his heart thudding. “Uh-doing what?”

The other boy exhaled slowly. “Now’s probably not a good time to talk about it.”

The door swung open, startling both of them. One of the housekeepers stood there, a confused expression on her face.

“Ah - hello,” Skylar said, sounding nervous. “I’m Cirrus’…friend. He got concu-mmph.”

His voice was muffled underneath Cirrus’ hand.

“I fell during soccer practice, that’s all,” he said, putting a smile on his face. The more lucid he became, the more he knew that he should keep the information he gave to anyone at his house minimal. They didn’t need to know any details about his life, including the injuries he got.

Skylar bit his hand, and he suppressed a noise of pain, pulling his hand away. This guy was just like a dog sometimes. A feral, adorable, soft one.

The dark-haired man glared at him. “He should be resting,” he flatly said to the housekeeper. “For multiple days.”

She glanced nervously at the dried blood on his clothes, but just nodded and didn’t say anything.

“Alright, well, I should go,” Skylar pushed the backpack and phone into Cirrus’ hands. His eyes suddenly widened and he pulled a crinkled paper out of his pocket. He handed it to Cirrus, who unfolded it with a frown. It was a numbered list, something the nurse had typed up.

“Even if I’m not around,” Skylar glared, pointing a finger at him, “follow those instructions, got it?”

He was so cute when he got all stern and lectured Cirrus. It made him want to push the other boy’s buttons just to enjoy his reactions for longer.

Maybe he just liked it when Skylar gave him attention.

“I’m warning you, stay in bed,” the dark-haired man ordered.

Cirrus considered protesting, wanting to keep him around. But ultimately, he just nodded silently.

To his surprise, Skylar’s gaze softened. “Feel better, baby,” he said quietly. Then he turned and strode off, shaking his head.

Cirrus watched him go back to his mother’s car, climbing into the passenger seat. His mom waved at him before they drove off.

The housekeeper had a look of surprise on her face.

He didn’t bother asking, just went inside and made it up the stairs.

He hadn’t even crossed the threshold into his bedroom when Candy ran over to him, huffing loudly. She seemed to notice that something was wrong, because she didn’t jump on him like she usually did.

“Ugh, I missed you so much, sweet girl,” he pet her head. He wanted to kneel down and hug her, but his head was aching and all he wanted to do was lay down.

It was a relief to take off his filthy clothes and take a hot shower. He had never been so excited to climb into his bed, Candy laying close beside him as he finally closed his eyes and went to sleep.

✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ☂･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

By the time the next Wednesday rolled around, two things had happened.

The first was that he felt a lot better. His recovery process actually hadn’t been too terrible. It was more boring than anything else. He’d mostly laid in bed with Candy, staring out the window or sleeping, popping meds every so often. His face looked horrifying, but there was nothing he could do about that.

The second was that he’d gradually regained his memories and lucidity, and it was mortifying. He remembered clinging to Skylar’s hand the entire time, thinking really absurd things about how the other boy looked, saying embarrassing shit. He’d even fucking cried in front of him. How was he supposed to face him at school now?

He couldn’t wear sunglasses inside, and he wasn’t proficient in applying foundation to his face, so he was forced to just accept he’d look like he’d gotten into a fight and lost. He was sure everyone would be pestering him about it.

His entire body was tense as he approached the classroom. It was the same old, annoying apprehensiveness that refused to be shaken. What was hilarious was that he still felt a rush of excitement to see Skylar. He was just inexplicably afraid at the same time. Like getting on that damn roller coaster over the summer.

Skylar was bent over his desk, writing something. When Cirrus passed by his desk, he looked up.

Of course, Cirrus’ feet seemed to fail, and he came to a halt as they made eye contact.

To his surprise, the dark-haired boy broke into a warm smile.

“Wow, you look like shit,” he said, his eyes clearly moving over the bruises.

“Gee, thanks,” Cirrus flatly said, although he could feel himself start to smile too.

“How are you feeling?” Skylar asked. “Did you actually stay in bed and rest?”

There was something incredibly gratifying about seeing the concern in the other boy’s eyes. Cirrus basked in the self-indulgent satisfaction of Skylar worrying over him for a moment. He still wasn’t used to it.

“Don’t worry, I followed all of your instructions. I made Candy do everything for me,” he grinned. “She did a terrible job, but I give her five stars anyway.”

“Good,” Skylar looked satisfied.

He heard footsteps behind him and moved out of the way as Ji-gyeom shuffled to his desk, still half-asleep.

It was always infuriating that this guy got to sit right next to Skylar. Cirrus could only imagine how nice it would’ve been to be in that seat instead. Whatever, he bitterly thought. At least that meant he wasn’t embarrassing himself right beside Skylar every day.

“How’s your face?” Ji-gyeom asked him, cringing as he looked at Cirrus.

Bad, thanks to you and your damn flirting on those bleachers during soccer practice, he wanted to say.

Instead, he just lightly said, “Oh, you know, it’s slowly becoming a face again.”

He felt his mood drop as he turned and walked back to his desk.

✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ☂･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

The final nail in the coffin of it all was hammered in on the seventh week of classes, at the end of the day.

What happened first was Cirrus walked over to retrieve a pen he’d let Ji-gyeom borrow when they had a break between classes. Most students were scattered, getting water or using the bathrooms.

He’d cut across the room and walked down the aisle towards the front.

Two dark-haired boys were sitting side by side. Skylar had gotten a haircut recently, he thought as he walked up. His hair wasn’t curling over his neck as much as it usually did, the strands a variety of rich chocolate tones.

He wouldn’t think about how soft he already knew it was.

His eyes slid over to Ji-gyeom as he got close, when he glanced at his desk, he did a double take.

His blood ran cold, and he felt himself halt.

On a curling scrap of paper, in Skylar’s neat handwriting, plain as day, he saw the beginnings of the ugly words resting on Ji-gyeom’s desk.

The time we spend together makes me so happy.

He could only make out the first sentence, and before he even registered what he was doing, his trembling fingers were reaching out to pluck the scrap of paper off of the desk.

You’re a kind, fun person who I want to keep getting to know better.

No, he thought, feeling his heart pound out of his chest. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t.

“Hey, what are you doing? Give that back!” he heard a muted voice coming from his periphery, probably Ji-gyeom, but he couldn’t have cared less. Even the few lingering students who might’ve been able to see or hear didn’t matter.

He read the last sentence.

Will you go out with me?

The paper was suddenly snatched out of his hand, Ji-gyeom’s face tomato red as he crinkled it in his hand.

Skylar turned to look up at him too, his eyes wide and questioning.

“You-this-“

Cirrus could barely speak. He didn’t think he’d ever felt this particular combination of sensations so strongly before. The floor had dropped out from under him, at the same time that he wanted to scream in rage and despair.

“Dude, why’re you snooping through my stuff? It’s embarrassing,” Ji-gyeom whined.

He couldn’t look away from Skylar. The fury rising in him was an unstoppable tidal wave, but so was his urge to cry.

“What’s wrong?” Skylar had a baffled look on his face.

His eyebrows furrowed, his fists clenching.

“Why - why him?” his voice was hoarse. “Why are you asking him out? Am I not-“

He surprised himself, the words dying in his throat. What the fuck was coming out of his mouth right now? He hadn’t been able to filter his damn words? What was he thinking? Had he really been about to say am I not good enough for you? As though he had any right or tangible claim to the other boy? Why did he feel so betrayed?

After looking shocked for a moment, Skylar dropped his head and his shoulders began to shake. Cirrus almost thought that the other boy was crying.

No, he realized with horror. Skylar was laughing.

The silver-haired boy flinched, completely caught off guard. Why was he doing that? What was so funny? Was he enjoying seeing Cirrus having a public meltdown? Or was it the idea of asking Cirrus out making him laugh like that?

“I-I’m sorry,” Skylar looked up, his cheeks flushed. “That note, Ji-gyeom just-“

“Dude, not so loud,” Ji-gyeom hissed, looking around uncomfortably.

“There’s a girl he wants to ask out. I’m helping him with his script,” Skylar explained in a quiet tone. “Although I’m not the best person to ask, honestly.”

Cirrus felt his entire face grow hot enough to melt off, his eyebrows raising. Embarrassment flooded his mind, and he didn’t know if he was relieved at what the other boy had just said or pissed at himself for acting like an extraordinary fool.

“Are you angry?” Skylar frowned. “What’s going on with you?”

This was a nightmare. Cirrus was still asleep in his room and at any moment he’d blink his eyes open and get ready for school and walk into the classroom knowing he hadn’t just destroyed any scraps of pride he had remaining.

Unfortunately, as much as he wished that were true, he knew that this was the inescapable reality.

“Forget it,” Cirrus flatly said. “I don’t know why I freaked out like that. It won’t happen again.”

Stiffly, he turned and strode out of the classroom, Skylar’s presence like a burning fire he wanted to ignore at all costs. He wanted to just disappear. He needed to find someplace he could just hide by himself. Fuck, he was so pissed.

“Cirrus, wait!”

His stomach plummeted as he heard a familiar voice call after him. Footsteps hurriedly trailed after him, and he started walking faster.

Skylar was undeterred. He only seemed to get closer, and Cirrus practically burst into a jog down the stairs, rushing down the first floor hallway.

“Are we seriously doing this right now?” he heard the other boy call after him, his footsteps still steady behind him.

In response, Cirrus started flat out running, desperate to get away.

He burst out of one of the side exits to the school, setting off across the grass of the yard. It was overcast, and a light drizzle started to mist his face as he ran. Almost instinctively, his feet had just started carrying him towards the soccer field, which was empty at this time of day.

The entire day he hadn’t been using his brain, because he should’ve expected that Skylar was too tenacious and athletic to just give up that easily. He wasn’t faster than Cirrus, but it was too hot outside to sprint at full speed.

Slowing to catch his breath once he made it onto the field, sweat pouring down his face, Cirrus turned to glance behind him.

He immediately went sprawling backwards into the damp grass, the air getting knocked out of his lungs as Skylar landed on top of him. One of the other boy’s elbows jabbed him in the chest and he groaned.

“A-ah, sorry, I didn’t think you’d slow down like that,” Skylar rolled off of him and knelt in the grass next to him, panting. His glasses had fallen off and his face was flushed.

He was painfully handsome. This time, Cirrus didn’t second guess having that thought. It was just true, wasn’t it? What was the point of thinking it, though?

Cirrus closed his eyes, still laying on his back, and tried to catch his breath.

After a long minute of just silently breathing next to each other, Skylar spoke first, clearly tense.

“Do you hate me? I...I know something is wrong. Are you angry with me? Or mad at me for hanging out with your friends?” the boy’s voice was hesitant. “You’ve been acting so uncomfortable around me recently.”

Cirrus’ eyes shot open, surprised. He hadn’t expected those questions, and it caught him off guard.

Skylar met his gaze, awkwardly running a hand though his disheveled hair, picking up his glasses, and then looking away. “Why have you been avoiding me and giving me strange looks?”

The silver-haired boy felt so frustrated, looking away. There was no way to properly explain this.

He was scared, honestly. Afraid of how anything he said could be interpreted as a giant flashing sign advertising his weaknesses, inviting painful rejection. Should he still try to explain? He didn’t know where to start.

“Every time I see you, I get annoyed,” he admitted, just starting with wherever his mind took him first, refusing to make eye contact. “I know I’ve been acting weird. I’m just...struggling to act upbeat and normal around you.”

He felt his tone grow bitter, and he didn’t know what to say. “Everything just sucks right now.”

There was a long moment of silence. He waited for Skylar to ask him a question, respond with something. How was he going to explain that he wanted the other boy to himself without making it all weird? 

Then, he heard a shaky voice say quietly,

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes widened as he heard a sniffle. He immediately sat up, his head swiveling to stare at Skylar. There was no way to mistake that for rain. Those chestnut eyes were welling up with large tears.

Cirrus flinched, his stomach dropping.

What? Why?

He stared in shock as the other boy’s hand clutched his chest as though he were in pain. He looked down, away from Cirrus. What was that look on his face? Why was he apologizing?

“You don’t have to worry anymore,” Skylar said, and his cheeks glistened. “I’ll try my best not to see you anymore.”

The dark-haired boy immediately stood and turned.

No, wait, Cirrus said, except he couldn’t say anything out loud at all. He climbed to his feet, his eyes wide, one hand outstretched, but the other boy had already started striding away, clearly trying to get away from him.

He stood there uselessly, stunned.

What had just happened?

And what was this awful feeling?

✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ☂･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

The rest of the day passed in a blur.

He eventually found himself sitting and staring numbly down at his math academy desk. The sky had darkened even more outside, rain pattering against the classroom window.

The teacher was lecturing at the front of the room. It might as well have been a TV emitting static.

Every day this semester he had been forced to learn something new and terrible about himself.

Today’s lesson was a test of how long he could sit still and quietly while he actively felt like he was suffocating.

The same pained face replaying in an endless loop in his head. Those same stupidly large eyes filled with tears. That same hand clutching a chest, trembling with hurt.

He couldn’t stop going over the words he had said, but he wondered if his memory was changing that narrative each time he tried to revisit it in a haze of anxiety. The way he had tried to convey what he was feeling could’ve been a lot better, he knew that much. It had been absurd to start his explanation with something that could be construed as “you annoy me all the time.”

It was true. Seeing Skylar did annoy him, but he hadn’t meant it to mean that Skylar himself was the problem.

Now, there was another ocean of distance between them. Instead of being able to bridge that gap, Skylar was going to actively try to avoid him again. After everything they’d been through up until this point? After Cirrus had confirmed that he needed the other boy to stay near him, always?

Skylar, ignoring him in the hallways, walking away whenever he saw Cirrus, acting like they had never known each other, disappearing from his life? This was how it was going to end? Was he really going to lose Skylar this way, over something so silly?

He glared into empty space.

There was a way to fix this. There just had to be. There were no other options. And even if there wasn’t a method to repair the damage, he’d still have to do something.

He threw his pen onto his desk, cutting the teacher off mid-lecture.

“Can I leave early today?” he asked, although it came off as being more of a statement.

The teacher blinked at him a couple of times, surprised. Usually Cirrus didn’t speak up much, let alone in the middle of him explaining a concept. The other students turned to look at him. After a moment, the teacher shrugged.

“Alright Mr. Baek, just this time.”

He’d barely gotten the last word out before Cirrus was throwing everything into his backpack. He almost knocked over his chair as he zipped his bag up and took off jogging at the same time, letting the door slam closed behind him as he hurried to the exit.

The moment he stepped outside, cold droplets of water splashed onto him.

He wasn’t sure if he had an umbrella stuffed into the bottom of his backpack, and he didn’t have time to agonize over it.

He ran.

Of course he knew the way. How could he ever forget it?

Other pedestrians shot him bewildered looks as he sprinted by, getting increasingly drenched by the rain. He stopped at an intersection while he was waiting for the light to change, doubling over and panting.

Please, please, please, he thought. There wasn’t even anything specific in mind. He just knew he needed everything to work out.

A car honked at him as he prematurely bolted across the intersection. He wasn’t too far away now.

After a few minutes, moving as fast as he had, he skidded to a halt outside of a familiar, worn apartment building. He stared up at the third floor, his chest heaving. There was light streaming through the windows.

His heart thudded. Someone was home.

He took the stairs two at a time, jogging up to the door. His lungs were burning as he frantically knocked on the door three times.

It was hard to fight the urge to chew at his nails, shifting his weight from foot to foot, running a hand through his sopping wet hair. What if nobody answered? What if someone answered and told him immediately to leave? What was he even going to say as soon as this door shifted out of the way and he was confronted with an actual person who wanted justification for why he was there?

After what felt like an eternity, the lock on the door clicked and it opened, radiating light onto the dim balcony hallway.

A bored looking girl stood at the door, holding a bowl of cereal in one hand and a phone in the other. She was mid-yawn, but as soon as she saw Cirrus, she startled, almost splashing Cheerios directly onto both of them.

“O-oh, hi,” her face turned red. “Why are-“

“Ha-yeon,” he said urgently, his voice raspy, “Is your brother here right now?”

She thought for a moment. “Ah, yeah, I think he’s in his room ri-“

“Could I come in? Please?” he took a step forward. “Sorry, I know I’m drenched, but it’s really important that I talk to him.”

After only a brief moment of hesitation, she stepped aside. “Sure,” she said, watching him impatiently tug his shoes off and throw his backpack onto the ground. “But he might not be in… the best mood,” she trailed off awkwardly as he moved past her.

He sprinted down the hallway, his socks sliding on the wood floor as he knocked on the door.

Nobody answered. He bit his lip. On one hand, he was sure that Skylar would be pissed if he just barged in. On the other hand, he really, really needed to talk to Skylar.

He reached out and turned the doorknob, pushing the door open.

His eyes widened.

The corner of the room was lit by a small lamp. Skylar had his pajamas and a pair of headphones on, sitting at his desk with a pen in his hand, staring down at his notebook. There was a decent amount of clutter on the table, wadded up tissues and crumpled papers. As soon as his door swung open, his head swiveled with irritation. It immediately morphed into shock as he saw Cirrus standing there. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, which made the redness around his eyes all the more apparent.

“W-what are you-“ the dark-haired boy stared at him, bewildered.

Cirrus stood there silently, still out of breath. He watched Skylar with wide eyes as the other boy tugged the headphones off of his head. Everything about him looked so devastatingly warm. Skylar climbed to his feet, looking wary, hurt still reflected on his face.

There was a long moment of silence. The only sound was water occasionally dripping on the floor from Cirrus’ waterlogged clothes and hair.

“You always make such a mess,” Skylar finally said, his voice soft. It wasn’t clear whether he was talking about the growing puddle on the floor or something much larger than that.

Cirrus gritted his teeth.

He strode across the room, almost running, throwing his arms around the other boy. Skylar made a noise of surprise, his body becoming tense.

“I’m sorry,” Cirrus said quietly, his hands shaking. He wasn’t used to apologizing, and it grated uncomfortably at him at the same time that he needed to say it.

“I’m really sorry, Skylar. What I said earlier, you need to know that you don’t annoy me, I promise. It’s…” he took a deep breath. “It’s the complete opposite, actually.”

Had it ever been so painful waiting for someone to respond? It was so much suspense that he couldn’t take it for much longer.

Two hands suddenly rested on his shoulders, pushing him back. He flinched, expecting the other boy to be furious. He’d deserve whatever he had coming to him. A punch, yelling, silence.

To his surprise, Skylar didn’t look angry. There was a smoldering conviction in his eyes, at the same time that his eyebrows were furrowed in pain. Water was soaked into his clothes, smeared on the side of his face and neck from Cirrus’ hair.

“I don’t get it,” he said in a low voice. “Why did you say those things then? Why have you been acting like you don’t want to be around me?” His eyes were piercing as they stared directly into Cirrus’. “What do you really want from me? I want to hear the truth from you. Just say it, whatever it is.”

He hadn’t thought any of this through. He’d been too frantic to do any planning. Now, Cirrus once again found himself pinned to the ground, feeling the full weight of Skylar’s gaze on him. It felt like this boy was seeing straight through him and it was utterly terrifying.

For the vast majority of his life, basically as early as he could remember, he’d said exactly what he thought other people wanted to hear. There was always an endgoal in mind, a bigger strategy to maneuver the person in the direction he wanted. People were just challenges he had to break down, not entities to form genuine connections with.

This inevitably required having an ironclad barrier between him and everyone else. He knew that nobody wanted him as he existed under the layers of performance. That wasn’t how he’d get any of his needs met. That wasn’t how he could spare himself pain.

There hadn’t been a single person he could drop his defenses around and he’d resolved himself to never do so.

Until Skylar, of course.

This was the boy who could tear through every one of his barriers like they were just flimsy paper.

Relinquishing that control was terrifying in practice. He hadn’t known that it would feel like yanking his heart out, placing it in someone else’s hands, and giving them the choice to crush it into mangled pulp.

Even he didn’t understand who he was himself underneath all of the masks. For Skylar to be able to see the person he was before he even knew who that was…it was like stepping off of a precipice.

Looking into those wide, brown eyes, feeling the warmth of Skylar’s hands on his shoulders that seemed to radiate through his entire body, one of the missing pieces finally clicked into place.

Cirrus had already conceded that power to Skylar long ago, hadn’t he? This wasn’t about whether or not he had lost it anymore. There wasn’t anything left to control. Now, he had to decide. He could cling to the crumbling illusion of control and completely lose the person he had feelings for. Or he could try letting go and trusting that through defenseless honesty, Skylar might choose him too. 

He ran a hand through his hair, and it slid down to cover his face. His eyes were already stinging.

“I’m scared,” he said, his voice wavering. This was going to be tough.

“I want to be close to you. I…I really like you. And I don’t know how to do this.” He took an unsteady breath. “It feels like it’s so easy for other people to befriend you, and it bothers me that they can have that with you. It’s so damn complicated for me, I can’t stand it. But…I don’t want you to think I’m weak.”

“I’m afraid of what you see when you look at me.” He felt so small, frozen in place. Water was still trickling down his face, but now some of the droplets were hot, blurring his vision. “Last year, you were right. You’re the only one who knows that there’s something wrong with me.” He dryly chuckled, although it felt like it came out as a couple of muffled sobs. “Well, a lot, probably.”

A heavy silence blanketed the air.

There was a painful lump in Cirrus’ throat, his entire body ached, and he was pretty sure that snot was coming out of his nose, but he couldn’t bring himself to move a muscle. He didn’t want to lower his hand and reveal his face.

He flinched as the pressure on one of his shoulders disappeared. A moment later, warm fingers brushed the wrist of his raised hand. He let Skylar tug his arm down and away, exposing his face.

“I’ve never thought you were weak, okay, Cirrus?” the dark-haired boy sighed. “You’re obnoxious and stubborn and egotistical, but being a human doesn’t make you weak.”

Cirrus weakly glared at him, sniffling a little. “Human? Don’t you mean sexy demon?” he said in a watery voice.

Skylar rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth quirked upwards.

“I really hated you last year,” the dark-haired boy said, his hand sliding off of Cirrus’ wrist.

The silver-haired boy flinched. This wasn’t new or unreasonable information, but it still stung.

“But,” Skylar’s cheeks flushed a little and Cirrus’ heart pounded. “You should know that since getting to know you, I do like being around you. When you’re not being an ass, that is. Spending time with you can be really fun,” the other boy shyly looked away. “I guess you’re the only one who knows things about me too, you know. And I’m glad you came here tonight to tell me all of this.”

There was another long moment of silence as Cirrus stared at him in awe. He knew that his face probably looked ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it. It was absurd how much euphoria he was feeling. Had anyone so endearing ever existed before in the entire world? Definitely not, he thought.

“It’s that look again,” Skylar said when he glanced up again, smiling. “You get all quiet and turn red.”

Cirrus became aware of how hot his face was. Well, that’s just how it was going to be around Skylar. He could take a break from trying to hide it.

“I want to hug you,” he said. He had meant to phrase it as a question, but somehow it left his mouth more like a statement of fact.

Skylar grimaced. “You’re still soaking wet, you know. I should get you a towel.”

Cirrus reached out, grabbing his wrist. “In a minute.”

His thoughts must’ve been obvious on his face, because Skylar studied his face and sighed.

He reached out and wrapped his arms around the taller boy. Cirrus buried his face in Skylar’s neck, squeezing him tightly. He was sure that the other boy could feel his shoulders shaking a little as he cried quietly into his shoulder. Skylar hadn't pushed him away. For the first time in his life, he'd completely and willingly exposed his inner self, and it hadn't resulted in disaster. Actually, it had been the only thing that could've resulted in this outcome.

Something had fundamentally shifted. It was like a block in his chest had finally collapsed and he could breathe again. 

He wasn't ready to confess all of his feelings at once. He had no idea how attracted Skylar might be to him, and that was scary in a completely different way. But, suddenly, that idea felt like it was somewhere within the realm of possibility, which would've been inconceivable before. 

Plus, he had discovered a new lesson. People can cry of happiness too.