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So, there’s a rumor going around.
Lovro is aware of that much, had anticipated it even before it started to spread, spent weeks feeling like he had been staring at an hourglass slowly counting down to oblivion with the knowledge that it was coming even if he didn’t quite know when.
When it comes — a trickle, a whisper, something with the capacity to inflate even if it isn't there yet — it isn’t as earth-shattering as it would’ve felt if it had come sooner. If he hadn’t premeditated it, hadn’t feared it, hadn’t spent countless sleepless nights chewing his nails down to the quick and staring at the ceiling in anticipation of the whole world crashing down on him at any moment.
Back when the word gay felt the most terrifying one in his vernacular, like a parasite burrowing into his skin that he tried so desperately to reject. Something that made his stomach turn each time it crossed his mind, that made his tongue arid each time it tried to escape from his mouth. Something wrong and unbecoming and disgusting.
And while he still isn’t there yet, still hasn’t fully made peace with this part of himself he’d shunned into the darkest recess of his mind for so long, it’s slowly becoming a begrudging acceptance for him.
Because he can no longer escape the fact that, whether he wants it to or not, it does in fact ring true for him. He doesn’t have to like the fact that he’s gay, he just has to have the guts to stop torturing himself by denying it.
Still, with that being said, having the whole school be fed that fact about him isn’t… Well, it isn’t ideal, is it? Not in the slightest.
Especially since, as of yet, the only person he’s really told who attends the place is Jakov.
It starts with a text from Tina of all people—
Wait, no, not even a text. It starts with a fucking Snapchat message.
Tina snaps him an uninteresting picture — an awkward angle of her chemistry textbook, a ballpoint pen and an uncapped pastel purple highlighter laid on top — with a caption that reads: is it true that you’re gay? sorry if you think this is rude but three different people have told me. it’s really cool if you are 🌈💕
Like that isn’t the most insane thing you could send a guy during his ecology lecture.
Lovro leaves her on read, almost attempting a desperate reply trying to figure out who the hell had told her, but deciding it was better not to. Tina isn’t exactly high up on his list of priorities of people to come out to, and acting suspicious towards her of all people isn’t going to do him any good right now.
Still, it gives him the heads up he needs. That sinking feeling in his chest, the way his heart slams against his ribcage, the clamminess of his palms, and the constant paranoid feeling of being watched from over his shoulder — that all returns thanks to Tina. And, at the very least, it’s better than being caught off guard later on.
Being on high alert isn’t exactly going to hinder him right now. Not when he doesn’t know who exactly has heard about his dirty little secret.
Needless to say, he’s watching over his own back as he makes his way through the school corridors.
When a hand settles on his shoulder, it takes everything in himself not to jump at the sensation. It isn’t harsh, isn’t violent in any capacity, but it still takes him by surprise.
It’s Jakov.
Really just the best case scenario right now.
Jakov studies him through a furrowed brow, arm slung over Lovro’s shoulder as they walk through the halls, bringing his mouth close to his ear. “Hey, just so you know—“
Lovro gulps, cutting him off. “Yeah. Message already received.”
He shakes his best friend off, not wanting him to get pulled into all of this as well. It’s normal for them, Jakov being a tactile person and all, and Lovro had been surprised that he had kept it up even after finding out that he likes guys.
Most guys wouldn’t.
But then again, Jakov isn't like most guys.
“How?” he asks, eyes wide.
Lovro shrugs. “Tina.”
“Ah.” Jakov pulls his backpack further up on his shoulder, dodging a couple of seniors who are definitely looking at Lovro funny. “You know you don’t owe anyone an answer, right? Unconfirmed rumors always die out on their own, anyway.”
Yeah, right. He’s not sure Jakov even believes that one himself.
“Guess we’ll see about that,” he sighs, sliding his hand along the bannister as they make their way down the staircase.
“Whatever you want to do, I’ve got your back,” Jakov tells him, chewing his lips as he looks at Lovro attentively.
Lovro lifts his gaze ever so slightly from where it’s been trained to stare down at his shoes, chin downturned, making himself smaller and less obvious to whoever might take offence to his very existence. It’s a small act of bravery, one born of necessity of not tumbling down the rest of the steps, but it makes him stiffen in place when he spots him leant against the wall at the bottom of the staircase.
That familiar brown jacket, unbuttoned with his usual black crossbody bag pulled tight against his chest. Phone perched in his hand, sulking around with no obvious purpose. All strong features and sharp lines.
Ivan.
Of course! Just when he thought he couldn’t feel any more cornered than he already did.
His pupils snap to Lovro a second sooner than he’s prepared for, deep eyes weighed down by even deeper bags. There’s a desperation there, a crinkle at the corners and an unsettled vacancy behind his irises. He looks tired. He looks… guilty, almost? Concerned?
Not the type of person you could ever ignore is there, commandeering attention with his height and effortless intoxicating aura, Lovro has to catch his breath at the sight of him. Something unsettles in his gut, his blood running cold in his veins. He ducks his head back down, hoping he’ll have the decency to at least leave him be.
Hadn’t they already sworn off talking to each other in the halls? Ivan had said it would be for the best — them leaving each other alone, dodging any contact, pretending nothing ever happened — so why hasn’t he looked away yet?
“Look at this clown,” Jakov mutters under his breath, staring him down and all but puffing his chest as he steps down onto the flat tile of the school floor.
Needless to say, he isn’t exactly Ivan’s biggest fan right now.
“Lovro—“ Ivan tries, right on cue as they pass each other.
And, god, he really doesn’t have the mental capacity for this right now. Why can’t he just leave well enough alone?
“Do you seriously think you’re helping him right now?” Jakov jumps in before Lovro can say anything, digging his feet into the ground and grinding to a halt. All narrow eyes and grit teeth, stifling his voice enough that it’s low without taking away any of the impact. Ivan gawks back at him, rendered speechless. “Didn’t think so. Fuck off.”
Lovro yanks his best friend’s arms before Ivan gets the chance to find his voice. “Leave it, Jakov. Let’s just go.”
They stumble out of the doors together, leaving Ivan in their dust. Lovro fights every urge he has to look back over his shoulder, the curiosity not worth the hurt. Does Ivan care enough to watch him leave, or is that too much for him, too?
Fucking hell. Get over it, Lovro. It’s not happening.
Each step away feels like the reopening of a wound, something dull and achy seeping into his bones. He doesn’t swallow, the dagger digging into the back of his throat balancing on too fine a line to be disturbed.
Shrivelling into himself, the fleece on his back is like a furnace against his skin. And, sure, he could always unzip it, but it feels too much like armor to him right now to want to do that. Now that they’re out in the courtyard, now that he knows Ivan is actually in school today, he feels a lot more self conscious than before.
Exposed. Out in the open. Unsheltered and slashed open for anyone to see.
Is anyone even looking at him? Is everyone? How is he supposed to know if all he can bring himself to do is stare down at the concrete?
Approaching their usual bench, the voices of Mario and Filip start to come into focus; Mario’s as airy and enthusiastic as ever, Filip’s his brash and sarcastic opposite.
“I’m telling you, she was giving me the eyes,” Mario is saying, assured in every syllable. “Clear as day.”
“The eyes? What eyes?” Filip scoffs back.
“The eyes, bro!”
“You talk to her once after weeks of pussying out of it, and suddenly she’s—“
“Hey, guys,” Jakov greets, leaning over the metal fence to dap them up. “What’s all that fussing about?”
Lovro hangs back, jutting his hip into the side of it and staying a reasonable distance away. Mario and Filip are sitting on the bench behind the fence, Mario fully angled towards them while Filip just cranes his head sideways.
Filip rolls his eyes. “Tina. What else? Dude’s two steps away from a restraining order.”
Jakov jerks his head to the side, beckons Lovro to come closer. He inches forward ever so slightly, finding it hard to make eye contact with anybody. The gleam of Filip’s necklace catches his eye instead, the gold plated crucifix that’s always tucked under his clothes deciding to creep out of his collar today of all days.
Lovro gulps, feels it staring back at him like it’s passing judgement on his soul.
“Hey, she came to me! Like, she actually sought me out, came up to me, and—“ Mario starts, but Filip’s cutting voice talks over him.
“It doesn’t count if she only came over to ask you if Lovro’s into dudes!”
His voice dissolves into a dry, bemused chuckle, casting a glance over at Lovro as if he’ll get a kick out of it too. Mario is chuckling along, after all. But Lovro isn’t laughing, feeling just about every muscle, sense and internal organ seize up on him at the same time.
“Yeah, she thinks you’re gay, by the way,” Mario chimes in with a grin, cluelessly adding further insult to injury as he addresses Lovro. “Half the school does apparently. Guess the gossip in this place is so dry they have to make shit up now.”
His skin starts to crawl, fighting the urge to claw at it with his fingernails. He looks back down at himself, knows that if he says anything it’ll come out too raw right now. His throat is just too tight for anything else.
Half the school? Already?
Fuck.
“What makes her think that?” Jakov asks inquisitively, keeping his tone neutral.
Filip cracks a cheap joke, sticking out his thumb and motioning to Lovro. “Isn’t it obvious? Look at him.”
A shiver runs down Lovro’s spine, the sentiment ringing true despite Filip not really believing it himself. Isn’t that why he dyed his hair back? Hadn’t he just wanted to fly under the radar for a while, not draw any attention to himself?
Look how well that turned out for you.
Mario shrugs his shoulders, releases an exaggerated breath as though the whole thing is inconveniencing him somehow. Like him exchanging his first two words with Tina is more groundbreaking than Lovro being outed to the entire fucking school.
“I don’t know, man, someone told her he got with some guy. Igor or something. He was at his party, apparently.” The broad strokes are there. Filtered through Mario’s limited capacity to take anything in while Tina is talking to him, sure, but still there. Fuck his life. “Don’t worry, bro, I told her it was bullshit.”
He watches as Jakov’s face falls, pretty much rehearing a play for play of what Lovro had already told him. Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, he glances over at Lovro with a mix of pity and support glazing his features, raising his eyebrows slightly as if to say, here’s your chance.
But does Lovro seriously want to take it just like that? Would denying it be more painful, more complicated in the long run than just facing it now?
They haven’t been hanging out all that long, but despite that Lovro really likes having Mario and Filip in his life. Is he really willing to put that at risk right now?
Jakov had been different — more outspoken, more laissez faire, more Jakov — and even though it was still a creeping doubt in the back of his mind, part of Lovro knew he wouldn’t totally turn his back on him once he found out. Maybe he’d expected some weirdness, a shift in their dynamic, maybe the slightest of pull backs, but never a complete sever.
Would Mario and Filip do that? Is it bad that Lovro honestly has no clue how they’d react to this?
Well, if they knew it was true, at least.
“What’s important is that Mario can finally shut up about—“ Filip starts, and it’s like nothing was ever said.
They’re back to bickering, back to their usual routine of talking about Tina or whatever crush of the week fits best into conversation, and Lovro— Well, he isn’t sure how easily he can fall into that anymore.
Even hearing about any of that stuff right now feels like a stab to the heart, thinking he had Ivan — falling for him, kissing him, reimagining his entire life around him — and subsequently realising he didn’t had soured him to it all.
How is it fair that Mario gets to wax poetic about a girl he has spoken to once when Lovro can’t even get Ivan’s name out without it altering the course of his life?
No, fuck that. He’s sick of swallowing everything down like this.
“His name’s not Igor,” Lovro bursts out before he can stop himself, talking over Filip. His voice cracks on the first word, gravelly and raw but determined to be heard. “It’s Ivan.”
There. That wasn’t so impossible, was it?
Mario’s body seems to glitch, vacantly blinking a few times before speaking. “Wait, who are we talking about right now?”
“The guy people think I’m seeing; you said his name was Igor, I’m telling you it’s Ivan.” Lovro is met with a set of blank faces, so he clears his throat and continues. “We’re not— I mean, not anymore, at least. But we did, like, have a thing for a while.”
A while is overselling it honestly, but Lovro doesn’t have the mental capacity to get caught up in the fine details right now.
“You had a thing with a dude?” Mario repeats, mouth agape like he’s waiting for the punchline.
“That’s what he said, bro,” Jakov replies.
“B-But—” he starts again, stuttering through his words. His eyes are wide as he studies Lovro, inquisitive and bewildered like it’s the first time he has ever seen him. “You hook up with girls every weekend! Dude, you had a girlfriend until, like, two weeks ago!”
Lovro shrugs his shoulders, guilt flooding through him. “I kept trying to force it but… it wasn’t gonna work with Ema. Ivan’s kinda the reason we broke up.”
To put it fucking lightly, at least.
Mario leans back against the bench, brows furrowed and his jaw swinging open as though it has come completely untethered from his face. It isn’t an awful reaction by any means, just a surprised one. Something he can’t quite make sense of yet. No strong feelings or biases swaying him either way, just… shock, mostly.
Filip, on the other hand—
Well, Lovro can’t gauge his reaction at all.
Mostly because he hasn’t said a fucking word yet. His expression hasn’t changed. He’s staring off in the opposite direction, casting the odd glance over at Lovro but never enough for him to really be able to make sense of it. The cross on his necklace is hanging limp on the chain, his fingers pinched around it as he scrapes it from side to side across the golden links. Part of the chain rests between his teeth, saliva collecting there.
He hasn’t left, at least. That’s something, right?
“So, you are gay then?” Mario asks, still seemingly several minutes behind. “Like, Tina was right?”
“If you have to get all technical about it, then yeah, I guess so.” He’s getting worked up now, frustration buzzing at his skin. How would Mario feel about an interrogation proving his own straightness? “But it doesn’t mean I like all guys. It’s not like that’s all I’m gonna talk about. Nothing… has to change.”
His pupils flit to Filip, still searching for a reaction. Still nothing.
Can’t he just do something? Anything is better than this. At least then Lovro would know where they stand.
Jakov must catch wind of his uneasiness — always reading Lovro to filth, even before all this — because the next words out of his mouth are: “Filip, you haven’t said anything.”
Filip’s hands still, his fingers no longer fiddling but still glued to the sides of his cross. He pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek, swiping it over his teeth before opening his mouth.
A pang ripples through Lovro’s chest, bracing himself for impact. Preparing for the worst, if that’s what he has to face. It’s too late now to do anything about that.
What seems like an eternity passes, Lovro’s world dropping to half-speed as he watches the muscles in Filip’s shoulders loosen, his chest rises with another breath, and — finally, painstakingly, like the first downpour after a drought — his lips curl up into a teasing smirk.
“I mean, I just thought you had no game,” he quips with his usual dry wit, making Jakov and Mario erupt into laughter.
“Oh, trust me, he’s got no game with Ivan either,” Jakov tags in, practically bursting at the seams. “If you heard half of the stuff I’ve—“
Okay, fine. That's... That's better than he expected.
But for whatever reason, Lovro can’t just leave it at that.
“That’s all you have to say?” he butts in, his voice somehow weak and forceful at the same time. “You’re holding onto that cross pretty tight.”
It’s irrational, he knows that. Still, he can’t get it out of his head.
Filip looks down at himself, brows furrowing as his pupils reach the necklace as though he had forgotten it was there. Had he even noticed he was fiddling with it? Doesn’t he see what that could look like to Lovro right now?
“What? Because I’m Catholic I automatically hate gay people now?” he retorts, genuinely taken aback by that. “Great one, Lovro. Really.”
His gut twists, former paranoia giving way to guilt. Okay, maybe that was a misstep.
“No, it’s just—“ he defends without really knowing how. “There’s a lot of people who think I’m going to hell for this.”
And that’s true, isn’t it? Lovro could rattle off a list of at least five of his relatives who’d tell him that much to his face, who’d shove a rosary in his hand and tell him they’d pray for him in a hushed whisper.
“Well, I’m not one of them. As far as I’m concerned, God isn’t either, alright?” Filip starts, his usual brand of blunt casualness going nowhere. He tells it like it is, that’s just his way. Lovro is just surprised by how astute he can sound in the same breath. “Look, bro, I didn’t give a shit when you dated girls, I’m not gonna start now that you’re dating guys. If anyone tries to pull that shit with you, they’re wrong. Anyone that uses religion to justify being a hateful asshole doesn’t know what they’re believing in in the first place. That’s not what God stands for.”
All Lovro can do is nod, that burning sensation in the back of his throat returning. He needed to hear that, he thinks. Filip being the one to deliver him that much is— Well, it’s unexpected, but not exactly unwelcome.
“Nah, bro, your philosophy is hating everyone equally,” Mario coughs out.
Filip crosses his arms over his chest, fighting against the grin that so obviously wants to take control of his features. “Exactly how it should be! You don’t get a free pass because you’re into dudes, Lovro. Sorry.”
“I get one though, right, bro?” Jakov tests, jerking an eyebrow.
“No fucking way.”
Lovro finds himself laughing along for the first time, the lead weight in his chest finally deciding to lift. They’re still his friends. They’re still idiots, but they’re his. That’s the silver lining in all of this. Maybe someday his other one will wise the fuck up and come back to him, too.
Well. If only Mario wasn’t already making plans otherwise, that is.
“What are we doing this weekend then? What’s our plan to get him a rebound?”
Filip huffs a breath through his nose. “You can’t even find a girl for yourself. How do you seriously plan on finding a guy for Lovro?”
Mario wrinkles his nose. “Gay bar, how else?”
“I’m not going to a gay bar.”
“Oh, so Mr. I’m-Not-Homophobic is too insecure to walk into a gay bar now,” Jakov jumps in, harsh and overwhelmingly sarcastic. “I see you, Gudelj.”
“I’m not too insecure, I’m just trying to give the poor guy a chance! If I’m there, he’s not gonna get any attention and the line of rejections will be out the door.”
Mario grins. “You’re so full of shit! Lovro, which one of us would you hit on—”
Nope, nope, nope. Not going near that with a ten foot pole.
“Guys!” Lovro interrupts, raising his voice to be heard over the ruckus of his stupid, amazing friends. “How about we just hang at my place? I’ll have Mama make brownies or something.”
“Deal,” Jakov says, giving him a fist bump. “Then you can fill them in on your little love affair with Tomos.”
Mario gasps. Like, actually gasps. It’s a wonder he still has air left in his lungs. “Tomos? You’re fucking with me right now. There’s no way.”
Lovro cringes into his fleece, wondering how long they’d take to connect the dots about the Tomos in the room. He thought Filip would’ve figured it out pretty quickly. Mario? Yeah, no chance. He thought he’d at least have a few more weeks.
Fucking Jakov.
“Dude, Tomos was your gay awakening?” Filip enthuses, definitely judging him now. “Oh, you’re never living this down. All this time you’ve been sneaking away from us to go on romantic scooter rides on that beat-up piece of junk? Have some standards, bro. Jeez. I can’t believe you let him do this, Jakov.”
“Me? I didn’t—“
“Did you at least get free pizza out of it?”
“Okay, I take it back. We can go to that gay bar as long as you promise me that I’ll never have to stomach the sight of you on the back of that hideous thing.”
“Does his fanny pack stay on during—“
And, miraculously, that’s when the bell starts to ring. Next period. Thank god.