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The dim orange glow of the bedside lamp cast quiet shadows across the room. Outside, the rain had stopped, but the air still smelled of wet pavement and hibiscus. Ric sat on the floor, back against the bed, legs stretched out. Ren was curled up on the mattress behind him, knees hugged to his chest, chin resting lightly.
Neither of them spoke for a while.
Ric could feel the weight of Ren’s gaze on the back of his head—not intense, but soft, thoughtful. He picked at the edge of a loose thread on his hoodie, then finally broke the silence.
“You okay?” Ric asked, voice hushed.
Ren blinked slowly. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I just… needed somewhere to be tonight.”
Ric smiled without turning around. “You can always be here.”
That sentence. It landed somewhere deep in Ren’s chest—warm and strange.
He didn't answer, but shifted closer, enough that Ric could feel the mattress creak beneath him. There was something so painfully intimate about the silence they shared. Not the kind that screamed distance—but the kind that wrapped itself around them like a soft blanket.
Ric turned finally, one knee up, the other bent beneath him. Ren didn’t flinch or look away. Their eyes met in the low light, and suddenly it felt like the entire world had gone quiet just to watch them.
“I think,” Ric started, slowly, “I like you more than I should.”
Ren’s lips parted. “Why ‘more than you should’?”
Ric looked down, chuckling softly to himself. “Because I don’t want to scare you.”
“You’re not,” Ren whispered.
That surprised Ric. He looked up again, their eyes locking. This time, it was Ren who leaned forward, ever so slightly. His fingers were still curled around his sleeves, but his eyes were steady.
“I didn’t mean to fall for you,” Ren said, voice trembling like a violin string. “It just… happened.”
Ric exhaled, almost laughing in disbelief. “God, I was so scared to say it first.”
Ren smiled shyly, and then—without thinking, without overanalyzing, without his usual hesitation—he reached forward and touched Ric’s wrist. His fingers were cool. Ric stilled, watching every movement like it was sacred.
“Can I…?” Ric asked, leaning forward just a bit.
Ren didn’t answer with words—he just closed his eyes.
The kiss was slow, unsure at first. A soft brush of lips that tasted faintly like cinnamon and fear and something too tender to name. Ric tilted his head slightly, deepening it, his hand coming up to cradle Ren’s cheek gently.
When they pulled apart, both of them were breathing harder than they should’ve been for such a short kiss.
Ren blinked slowly. “That was…”
“Yeah,” Ric nodded. “Yeah, it was.”
They didn’t need to say anything else.
That night, Ren didn’t go home. He fell asleep on Ric’s bed, curled up facing the window, and Ric sat next to him for a while, just watching the steady rise and fall of his chest.
He wasn’t sure when it had stopped being a crush.
Maybe when Ren first smiled at him across the library table.
Maybe when they shared coffee at the café after closing hours.
Maybe when Ren called him “safe” without using the word at all.
But Ric knew now, without a doubt—
He was already in too deep.
And somehow, that didn’t scare him anymore.
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