Chapter Text
There it was. Three unmistakable colors on a sheet-like object. Bojan stood over it, his left hand clenching and unclenching as he bent down and picked it up.
Why was this one different? It's just a flag, like all the others.
Bojan averted his eyes from the crowd, who screamed with approval when he draped the flag over his shoulders like a shawl.
But it's on me. What if they get ideas?
He paced, pushing down the thoughts, ran a hand through his hair, reminded himself to stick to the plan. The show must go on, after all.
"This song is for everyone who feels like they need to run away to a place where they feel safe and treated the way they should be," he said. "This is Barve Oceana."
* * *
Bojan had hung the flag in his bedroom after that. He and his bandmates could probably cover every wall of their rehearsal space with all the pride flags they had received. They had all been draped across their shoulders with a smile, but that was onstage, where almost anything went. But outside the context of performance, Bojan was beginning to feel the weight of the flag's significance. It was the first thing he saw when he woke up in the morning, his eyes immediately drawn to its rich colors. Those colors only reminded him of his decision, and how it could be interpreted. Those three colors had exposed him.
While watching Netflix in an attempt to stave off his growing anxiety, Bojan's phone chimed. The notification of a message from Kris had appeared on the screen.
krisgusti: Hey, been a minute. What's new?
Me: Nm wbu
krisgusti: K
Bojan sighed and let his head hit the back of his sofa.
Me: Sorry something's been driving me crazy
krisgusti: Something wrong?
Bojan stared at the message when it appeared on his phone screen. How could he answer that, especially when it was Kris asking?
Me: sent a photo
krisgusti: Nice, you hung the flag. Wasn't sure if you'd keep that or not.
Me: I wanted to it means something
krisgusti: Yeah, it means you're bisexual.
Me: Kris I wore that thing in front of people! I announced Barve Oceana after I did, you remember how I ended up writing that song. Did I just out myself?? That's not how I meant to do it
Me: I'm not sure if I want to at all
krisgusti: Oh shit
krisgusti: I didn't know you were feeling like this, I'm sorry.
krisgusti: Really, I am. Want me to come over? We can talk more about this when I get there.
Me: Okay
While waiting for Kris to arrive, Bojan's thoughts continued to spiral until they boiled down to one, looming question: what does he think?
He suddenly found himself unable to move a muscle. He was suddenly unsure if letting Kris come over was a good decision, because what does he think?
Bojan never meant for it to happen this way. It was just a flag, he hadn't really come out as anything. It was just a show of support, nothing to do with him...
A knock on the door broke through it all, but Bojan's breathing had turned shallow. He was on autopilot now. Just act like everything is fine and he'll go away...
"Hey."
"Hey..."
"So you think you tripped and fell out of the closet?"
Classic Kris. All business, no filter.
"Kris..."
"Sorry, I just...I know you're worried, so I'm just trying to-"
"I know."
No point in putting on a façade now. He knew, he really knew. This wasn't good.
"Look, you know I don't care either way. I'll be proud of you, but like-"
"Just stop it..."
Bojan sighed, bringing his shaking hands to his face. Even his autopilot wasn't functioning well. He felt inches away from short-circuiting, and why was Kris still here?
"I know I can trust you and the guys," Bojan explained, as if pleading for something, anything, to end this. "But this is about me. I don't know if I can accept this."
"But you hung that flag up in your room. What do you call that?"
"I don't know."
Kris sat beside Bojan on the sofa with a sigh.
"You know I can't help you if you keep quiet."
"Yeah, Kris, I know!" Bojan cried, getting up from the sofa and beginning to pace the room. "I know I'm being cagey right now, but you're the one who invited yourself over here! You could've just left me alone and everything would've been fine!"
"Is that why you haven't been talking to me?"
"Oh yeah, what was your first clue?! I don't care if there's a name for what I am, or a fucking flag! I didn't want it to happen like this, and I don't want you to hate me!"
Why am I yelling at him?
Bojan was on the verge of tears. Kris was unmoved.
Don't look at me like none of this matters...
Taking a deep breath, Kris stood up and captured Bojan in a tight hug.
"I think you know that it'll take more that to make me hate you, Bojči," he said.
"Whatever..." Bojan sniffled. One last attempt to push him away. It wouldn't work.
"I mean it. You're stuck with me, Bojan."
Bojan wept quietly into Kris's neck. He wished he hadn't done this, acted the way he had. Of course Kris would accept him. They knew each other, loved each other, and they didn't have to define it.
"I guess that means you're stuck with me too," Bojan laughed weakly.
"Mhm."
Bojan pulled away to look up at his...what? His friend? Bandmate? Younger brother?
"Krisko?"
"Yeah?"
"We're okay, right?"
Kris pulled Bojan back into his embrace, sliding a hand into his hair.
"Yeah," he replied. "We're just fine."