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The first time it almost happened, it was raining.
Sky and Nani were sitting under the small shelter outside the studio, waiting for their ride. The rain was soft, steady, making everything feel smaller and closer.
“You were quiet today,” Nani said, watching the rain.
“I was thinking.”
“That’s dangerous.”
Sky elbowed him lightly. “Shut up.”
Their knees were touching. Neither of them acknowledged it.
Sky’s heart had been doing this weird thing lately — speeding up whenever Nani leaned in too close. Or smiled for too long. Or looked at him like he was trying to figure something out.
“I wanted to tell you something,” Sky said.
Nani turned immediately. “Okay.”
Why was he so attentive. That wasn’t fair.
“I just think that maybe we—”
A thunderclap cracked loudly overhead.
Sky flinched. Nani laughed.
“You got scared.”
“I did not.”
“You literally jumped.”
“I was startled.”
“Same thing.”
The car pulled up.
Moment gone.
The second time it almost happened, it was in the practice room.
Late. Quiet. Everyone else had left.
Sky was sitting on the floor, back against the mirror. Nani was stretching nearby.
“Come here,” Nani said casually.
“Why?”
“Just come.”
Sky shuffled over. Nani grabbed his wrist gently and adjusted his posture. Their faces ended up… very close.
Too close.
Sky forgot how breathing worked.
“You’re tense,” Nani murmured.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m literally sitting.”
Nani’s thumb brushed lightly against Sky’s wrist.
Electric.
Sky swallowed.
“I think I—”
The door swung open violently.
“YOU GUYS STILL HERE?!” someone shouted from the hallway.
They both jumped apart like guilty middle schoolers.
“Yeah!” Nani yelled back.
Sky stared at the floor.
This was getting ridiculous.
The third time it almost happened, it was jealousy.
Sky didn’t mean to feel it. He really didn’t.
But Nani was laughing. That bright, head-tilted-back laugh.
And he was laughing because someone else had said something.
Later, when they were alone, Nani leaned against the wall beside him.
“You were sulking.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You absolutely were.”
Sky crossed his arms. “You seemed busy.”
“Oh?”
“With… whoever that was.”
Nani stared at him for a long second.
“Are you jealous?”
“No.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
“You blinked slow again.”
Sky’s jaw dropped. “Stop analyzing my blinking.”
Nani smiled — soft, amused.
“Why does it bother you?” he asked quietly.
Sky opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
“I just don’t like when you laugh like that with other people.”
Nani’s teasing expression faded slightly.
“Like what?”
“Like it means something.”
The air shifted.
“And what if it does?” Nani asked softly.
Sky’s heart jumped into his throat.
“Then I—”
His phone rang.
They both looked down at it.
Sky stared at the screen.
“Are you serious right now,” he whispered to the universe.
Nani laughed under his breath.
“You gonna get that?”
Sky declined the call dramatically.
But the moment had already slipped away.
By the fourth time, even Nani was frustrated.
They were sitting on Sky’s bed, watching something neither of them were paying attention to.
Their shoulders were pressed together.
Halfway through the episode, Nani muted the TV.
Sky blinked. “Why’d you—”
“You keep looking at me.”
“No I don’t.”
“You do.”
“So what if I am?”
There it was.
That tone.
Nani turned toward him fully now. No teasing.
“Then say it.”
Sky’s pulse spiked. “Say what?”
“The thing you keep almost saying.”
Silence.
The room felt warmer. Smaller.
Sky could see the tiny scar near Nani’s eyebrow. The faint curve of his lips.
“I don’t want to ruin anything,” Sky admitted quietly.
Nani’s expression softened.
“Ruin what?”
“This.”
Nani moved closer. Barely an inch.
“This what?”
Sky’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Us.”
The tension was unbearable now.
“I think I like—”
The TV suddenly blasted back to life at full volume because auto play kicked in.
Both of them jumped.
Sky grabbed the remote aggressively. “I HATE
TECHNOLOGY.”
Nani was laughing now. Fully laughing.
“You are cursed.”
“This is not funny."
“It’s a little funny.”
Sky glared at him.
Then sighed.
Then looked at him again — softer.
“I like you,” Sky said quickly, before the universe could interfere again.
No thunder.
No doors.
No phones.
Just silence.
Nani blinked.
Then smiled — not teasing. Not smug. Just warm.
“I know.”
Sky stared. “You— what?”
“I was waiting.”
“For what?”
“For you to stop getting interrupted by literally everything.”
Sky covered his face. “I’ve been suffering.”
“You blinked slow for three weeks.”
“Stop saying that!”
Nani gently pulled his hands away from his face.
“I like you too,” he said quietly.
That hit differently.
Sky’s breath caught. “You do?”
“Yeah.”
“Since when?”
Nani pretended to think. “Maybe the rain.”
“THAT WAS WEEKS AGO.”
“Yeah.”
Sky stared at him in disbelief.
“You could’ve said something!”
“And ruin all this dramatic tension?” Nani teased softly.
Sky shoved him lightly.
But he didn’t pull away when Nani’s hand slid into his.
And this time, when they leaned in —
Nothing interrupted them.
Finally.
No almost.
Just soft laughter, warm hands, and the quiet realization that maybe… it had always been building to this.