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Fluixon doesn’t like to say “I love you.”
No matter what, no matter who. It doesn’t matter if they’re a close friend, someone from his childhood, or someone he’s had a crush on before. He doesn’t even say it to his family.
Those three little words just hold so much weight to him—and he hates when others don’t feel it.
Saparata is one of those people.
Saying it to his three siblings, Fluixon understands. To their close friends, Flux is iffy. To Fluixon himself, he feels a pang of guilt for every single time he fails to say it back.
He’s heard it come from the albino’s lips way too many times than he can count. One would call it jealousy; Fluixon doesn’t think so. He justifies it by calling it exasperation, to the point where hearing it in general irks him.
And Fluixon knows Saparata feels the same every time he doesn’t reciprocate the words.
…
It’s not that Flux doesn’t… like Saps.
Quite the opposite, actually. He just doesn’t say it because he shows it in other ways.
He shows it in the way he keeps an umbrella in his backpack because Saparata always forgets to bring his own. Or in the way he’s always been just a little bit softer around Saparata and nobody else. And if that doesn’t prove it, in the way he’s never been closer to uttering “I love you” to Saparata than to anybody else in his life.
Is this what love feels like?
A daunting thought, and that’s why it’s one he pushes to the back of his mind.
Especially now that Valentine’s Day is quickly approaching—and Fluixon has nothing to show for it. In fact, he’s already off to a bad start, because he and Saps haven’t talked in a week over something so stupid.
Saparata had just finished walking Fluixon home that night.
Fluixon fumbled with the padlock on his gate, cold biting into his fingers as he tried fitting the key into the lock for the nth time in the same minute. Once he finally pried the door open, he sighed in a mix of irritation and relief, then turned around to bid Saparata goodbye.
“Thanks for walking me home.” He raised a hand to wave. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Saparata pulled him in by a shoulder to leave a kiss on his forehead, to which Fluixon reddened but blamed on the cold.
“Yeah, see you tomorrow. Love you.”
Fluixon tensed. There it was.
He only gave a stiff nod of acknowledgment in return, before shifting away from the taller boy awkwardly.
He remembered the way Saparata frowned, pale brow furrowing at his reply—or lack thereof.
“I love you,” he said again, this time louder as if to urge Flux to say it back.
Instead of yielding, Fluixon grew annoyed. That was where it started to get blurry.
“I know. Is that all?”
Fuck. He could only watch as Saparata’s brow unfurrowed, his eyes widening as he took a step back.
“Is that all?” Saparata repeated, the miniature pairs of wings on the back of his head flaring in agitation, “what do you mean, ‘is that all?’ I’m your boyfriend, Flux.”
Fluixon gritted his teeth, turning his face away in a way that screamed shame but his pride excused as impatience. His hand tightened its grip on the metal surface of the gate.
“We’ve had this conversation at least ten times already, Saps.”
“Because every single time we do, it leads nowhere,” Saparata snarked. “Would it kill you to not be so avoidant for one fucking moment?”
He should’ve stopped it then. He should’ve taken what he said back. He should’ve pulled Saps in for a hug and kissed his cheek while he apologized softly. He should’ve…
What? Said “I love you, too”?
…Maybe.
Fluixon couldn’t remember what he said to that, nor did he remember the rest of their argument. The only thing he knew was that the situation grew ugly, and it ended with his boyfriend storming off into the storm where Flux could no longer see.
Safe to say they did not see each other the following day, or the entire week after that.
Fluixon has never regretted anything more than what he said that night in years. He groans, half embarrassed, and rolls over on his bed to bury his face into his pillow. His brain is already mentally cataloguing the amount of days they haven’t talked: eight days.
He’s scared that Saps is getting sick of him. That hurts his heart more than he cares to admit.
He needs to swallow his pride. And he’ll do it in a way that portrays how he feels for that boy better than mere words can.
…when he figures out what that way is, after he’s done with the school day.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🪽── .*♟️˖+
“I think you should just grow a pair and say sorry, man.”
…
Okay, maybe consulting Snowbird isn’t the smartest idea ever, Fluixon realizes, but this is his best option really. Next to himself—not to brag—he would say Snowbird knows his older brother best.
Flux sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “That’s easier said than done and you know it.”
Snowbird shrugs, tossing a green apple between his hands before he takes a bite out of the fruit. He throws his feet on top of the metal table and rests his weight on the backrest of the cafeteria bench as he replies.
“‘Kay, then what do you plan on doing?”
Flux looks down at the table, brows knotting together in thought. “…I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.”
The younger boy rolls his eyes.
“Nothing? Not even in the context of Valentine’s? I think I can tell who usually wears the pants in your relationship.”
That doesn’t earn him anything but a half-hearted murmur of disagreement from Fluixon.
“Come on… Saps is a fairly forgiving guy with everyone else, how much more with you?” Snowbird groans. “I don’t know… get him a massive bouquet, or something, he’d love it.”
Love?
That makes Fluixon pause.
Yeah, he’d be able to love anything if he was able to fall in love with someone like me.
“...Okay.”
Snowbird may have been joking, but Fluixon is not.
By the time lunch period ends, he’s set his mind. He’s already scanning the room for Thomas the moment he steps into their history classroom to drag him into the situation, much to the brunet’s exasperation.
He knows he doesn’t need to pay much attention in history period to pass, but despite Thomas’ protests, he listens to his best friend’s rambling anyway.
“...Lilies, lavenders, roses…” Fluixon jots a drawing of a bouquet on the margin of his notebook.
“Mhm.”
“Those would look good together… look here, Thomas.”
Thomas blinks slowly, “‘M looking.”
Fluixon turns to a blank page to draw an even bigger bouquet of flowers. It disrupts the neat flow of his notes, something he knows he’ll be bothered by later but can’t care less about right now.
His hand moves swiftly over paper, his movements light as he draws each petal from memory—from the curved star-shaped petals of the lily to the long, thin shrubs of the lavender…
Flux has never been the kind to appreciate flowers, not really. Every bouquet that had been gifted to him by admirers prior to Saparata all ended up in the bin before Fluixon even considered the idea of a relationship.
But he knows Saparata won’t do what Flux would. He’s never been that way. He’s always been the kind to see the good in everything… always succeeded everywhere Fluixon failed.
“Can’t believe I’m actually witnessing you putting an effort into reaching out to someone instead of vice versa for once.”
Fluixon sends Thomas a withering glance at that. Thomas already has his head cushioned in his arms on their shared table, honey eyes darting between Flux’s notebook and their teacher’s lecture periodically.
When the raven-haired boy simply goes back to adding details on the flowers, Thomas continues: “You know I’m right.”
A scoff leaves Fluixon’s mouth as if he doesn’t believe his best friend, but his mind betrays his expression. Is he?
His gaze scans the entirety of what he’d just drawn, then off to the side, where he’d subconsciously scribbled a chibi version of his boyfriend complete with the dorky smile and the little moles on his cheeks.
“Shut up.”
But he doesn’t say anything else when Thomas kicks his shin and snickers beneath his arms.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🪽── .*♟️˖+
The manifestation of Valentine’s Day is already starting to show in the halls of the school when Fluixon takes a step out of class.
He can see them with each turn of a corner: faculty hanging red and pink streamers in a hallway here, heart-shaped balloons with some “love is in the air” bullshit printed on their designs littered about there. The sight would usually repulse Fluixon, but all it does now is remind him of the deadline he’s set for himself.
Even couples have started to get bolder with their public display of affection. He only scoffs audibly—and rudely—as he walks by every time he sees one trying their luck.
Idiots.
But when a familiar face greets Fluixon as he takes a sharp right nearing the library, he loses his breath and all the audacity he had with him just two seconds ago all at once.
Saparata.
…with his twin brother, Micro—but that’s not who caught Flux’s attention.
It’s his boyfriend, obviously, along with a third person standing with them.
Fluixon narrows his eyes and scans the frame of this person, who, in his eyes, is standing way too close to Saps.
He’s… tall—taller than the twins. Dark, ashy brown hair brushes his eyebrows in a 60/40 parting, half-covering his even darker eyes marked by slight discoloration underneath. The most noticeable thing about him is the near blinding halo on the back of his head—which, in Fluixon’s very humble opinion—is just plain pretentious. His uniform is a little disheveled, and he looks… tired? Not just tired, he doesn’t even look happy to be there at all, maybe even plain annoyed, like he doesn’t realize how much Flux would give to be in his current position.
Fluixon’s gut churns, the voice in the forefront of his conscience rearing its ugly head. Who the hell is that? Does Saps thoughtlessly say “I love you” to that guy, too? He wouldn’t be surprised.
Just then, Saparata looks over his shoulder and catches him staring.
Shit! Fluixon freezes, too slow to react, and can’t do anything but watch Saps turn back to Micro and this… halo guy, exchanging a few more words before walking away from the situation—away from Flux.
Ah.
He unclenches his fists.
Understandable reaction.
That honestly stings more than it should, and the fact that Micro and halo guy are looking at him now like he doesn’t have any business being there just makes it worse.
Fluixon leaves before either of them can say anything to save himself the embarrassment, mood soured. He ends up outside on the campus quad before he realizes it when he spots Snowbird hanging out with the rest of their friend group he dubbed The Conspiracy in the distance.
They share a singular, pointed look. Snowbird raises his eyebrows, then cocks his head to the side at the concession stands run by other students settled along the stone pathway selling flowers for Valentine’s Day. Flux only nods, suddenly feeling the weight of the notebook he’d drawn on earlier.
He turns his head in the direction of the stands and immediately makes eye contact with one of the students behind the stands. The student-concessionaire has warden-like horns and a mischievous smile that promises nothing but hell, surely coveting some of Flux’s cash during his time of dilemma, and a part of his soul dies along with his pride.
With a resigned eyeroll, Fluixon digs his hand into his pocket and takes his wallet out.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🪽── .*♟️˖+
It’s when the sun is setting that Fluixon starts to get nervous.
Lilacs, lavenders, and roses—he got them just like he planned. It’s twice the size of his face, and they don’t go as well together as he pictured, but it’s too late to second guess himself. Then again, Saps has always had a soft spot for wonky shit.
He adjusts the bouquet to his liking again just to give his hands something to do, all while his feet trudge through the thin layer of snow caking the sidewalk on the way to his lover’s house.
His heart is on the verge of dropping out of his ass when he steps onto the Theria household’s front yard. He isn’t even absolutely sure if Saps is home yet—but Flux knows this is usually the time he prefers to be.
Fluixon takes another step closer to the door. He hesitates, free hand raised up to knock, and before he can cower out—
“Flux?”
What the fuck?
Fight-or-flight instincts triggered, Fluixon whirls around on his heel like a deer in headlights and just stares feeling absolutely horrified. This wasn’t part of the goddamn plan.
Saparata is standing there, keys in his hand and head tilted innocently like he has no idea the effect he has right now. His face is contorted with a bit of worry as he observes Flux, then it starts moving down and spots the massive bouquet the other boy has a death grip on.
“Flux,” he says again, “is that for me?”
Fluixon’s face flushes a light shade of red as he frowns. “What do you think?”
Shit, should he have said that?
Instead of getting offended, Saparata exhales through his nose as if to expel his earlier frustration, then smiles fondly.
“Happy early Valentine’s Day to you too, Flux.”
The albino advances a few steps until they’re face-to-face for the first time in over a week.
“I know you’re not the type to do things like this. Whose idea was it?” Saps asks teasingly, taking the flowers by the plastic wrap in a much lighter grasp.
Flux’s cheeks only get redder as he lets go of the bouquet.
“Not telling.”
Saparata hums, “Have it your way, then. Let’s go inside.”
The taller boy places a hand on the shorter’s back to nudge him inside to the warmth of his house, the other arm holding the gift with way more grace than Flux did.
This is a good sign, Fluixon is thinking, but how can I be sure that he doesn’t secretly hate my guts and is planning on breaking up with me anytime soon?
They barely make it to Saparata’s room when the question spills out.
“Are you getting sick of me?”
“What?”
They both stop walking at the same time. Saparata turns to face him, Fluixon follows.
“I don’t like repeating myself, Saparata,” he presses, looking way more serious than he has any right to be.
For a moment, neither of them break the tense silence that falls between them after that. Then, Saps snorts.
That catches Flux off-guard. “What… why in the world are you—?”
“Where’s this coming from?” Saparata cuts him off, amused. “Why would I be sick of you?”
Oh. A mix of relief and humiliation stir in Fluixon’s stomach at that.
“I don’t know… because I don’t like acknowledging what I feel, and I just saw you with that guy with the halo…” He crosses his arms over his chest defensively. He feels a little stupid for that now.
Saparata stops to think momentarily. “Guy with the halo… you mean KaNukei?”
Fluixon shrugs in reply.
“Oh, yeah. KaNukei’s my classmate, and he’s also a good friend,” Saps explains. Good friend? That doesn’t really add up to why the guy looked so… depressed around him and Micro earlier. “But you don’t have to worry, Flux, I’m not going anywhere.”
The last thing Flux sees is a cheeky grin before he’s being taken into a very suffocating, very Saparata-esque hug. And with him being shaped like a twig, they fall over not even two seconds into it with a dull “thud!” on the wooden floor.
Fluixon groans, reaching behind him to rub at his now aching back.
“Ugh… what the hell was that for!?”
He feels Saparata giggle beside his ear, “...I missed you.”
Fluixon scoffs, “Yeah… yeah, I missed you too.” He rolls them over to their sides with all his strength, only to see his boyfriend’s half-lidded eyes and relaxed features when he catches a good look of his face.
“You’re not seriously about to fall asleep already, are you? And on the floor, too?”
Saparata gives him a lazy smile and pulls his body closer for warmth.
“What? I’m tired.”
Fluixon doesn’t buy it, but he lets it happen anyway.
…
Okay, maybe Saps really meant it and actually did fall asleep. They’ve been laying on wooden planks for… ish knows how long.
Fluixon took all that time to scan and admire every single feature his eyes could catch: his signature grin, always ready for anyone who needed it to brighten their day, is absent in the moment; those moles littered on his face, two underneath his eyes and another on the corner of his lip—his favorite; and that head of long, unruly white hair they trim together whenever it gets too long.
His heart feels lighter than it’s ever been.
So, without much thought, Fluixon leans forward until mere millimeters are left between them, places a hand on his slumbering lover’s pale cheek, and whispers into his lips:
“I love you.”
A beat passes.
Then, Saparata’s lips crack into a soft smile against Fluixon’s.
“...I love you, too.”