Jared sat on his bunk in his small, dimly lit unit, staring blankly at the two bento boxes on the side table. They were still warm, the comforting aroma of fried rice wafting through the air. He had picked them up on his way back, thinking he and Etienne could share a quiet meal.
Maybe because he was shocked, that's why he want to buy some comfort for him and his partner. However, his appetite was nowhere to be found, because a storm starts raging in his chest, and it's only gets bigger as time goes by without Etienne by his side. His heart felt unsteady, weighed down by the images burned into his mind.
He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, hands comforting each others. The memory replayed relentlessly—what he had seen through the vent of Cezar's office. Archie had dragged him along, insisting it was worth seeing. Jared had been hesitant, annoyed even, but now he almost wished he'd refused.
He couldn't shake the sight: Cezar, the man he had once admired as a hero, someone he had looked up to, doing that to Etienne. His world had come crashing down in that instant. The betrayal cut deep. But what made his chest tighten even more was Etienne—his partner—being forced in that act. It gnawed at him. Was it worse that his idol was a violator, or that Etienne had shared such intimacy with someone else in a worse way possible? He couldn't decide, and the question itself made his stomach churn.
Etienne's voice echoed faintly through the vent, a mix of anger and despair that cut through Jared's chest like a blade. It wasn't the anger of someone able to fight back—it came from a place of hopelessness.
"One day," Etienne spat, his voice trembling, "You will die a horrible death, Cezar."
Cezar's response was chilling, a low, mocking laugh that reverberated through the room. "Oh, yes, babe," he sneered, "get angry, get mad at me, it will only turned me on!" And then came the sound Jared wished he could unhear—the dull thud of a fist meeting flesh, over and over, until Etienne's strained gasps and quiet groans were the only sounds left.
Maybe it was anger or jealousy—whatever this emotion was, it made Jared's blood boiled. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding below. Etienne lay crumpled, no longer fighting, his body limp as Cezar moved with an air of triumph.
Was it empathy tearing him apart? the unbearable sight of someone he deeply cared about being reduced to this? Was it disappointment that his hero, the man he had admired for so long, could be capable of such cruelty? Or was it the overwhelming feeling of uselessness, the knowledge that he was powerless to protect Etienne in his darkest moment?
Back then in the vent, his perception of Cezar as a hero still clung to him like blinders. The idea of barging in, confronting the man he idolized, and saving Etienne hadn't even crossed his mind. Instead, like a coward, he'd backed away from the vent, his body trembling as he crawls. He didn't stop to process what he felt; he didn't let himself feel anything at all.
But now, sitting alone in his dimly lit unit, those emotions were unavoidable. The bento boxes on the table sat untouched, their warmth a bitter contrast to the cold emptiness he felt inside. Regret clawed at him, unrelenting. He should have done something—anything. Instead, he had turned his back and run, leaving Etienne behind. He should've stayed, but like a coward he follow the order upon a threat.
The image of Etienne lying there, bruised and broken, replayed over and over in his mind. It was unbearable.
I should've jump in and break his skull instead! Just like how I gave him sucker punch to his face when he put Etienne in jail! The 18 years-old clenched his fists. He didn't know if he could ever forgive himself.
The sound of the door creaking open snapped Jared out of his thoughts. His gaze flicking to the entrance. Etienne stepped in, his usual grace subdued by visible fatigue. His hair was damp, water droplets sliding down his neck from a fresh shower. Jared's eyes immediately caught the faint bruises peeking out from under his collar, his heart clenching.
Jared opened his mouth to speak, but the words stuck in his throat. What could he even say? If he were in Etienne's position, he couldn't begin to imagine how he'd feel right now—or what words wouldn't make things worse.
Before the silence grew too heavy, Etienne's expression suddenly shifted as a delicious smell wafted through the air. The exhaustion and pain seemed to melt away as he slipped on his usual cheerful mask.
"Aww, is that fried rice? I've been craving this—bless you!" With exaggerated, theatrical steps, Etienne made his way to the chair, plopped down, and eagerly opened the bento box.
And then, it hit Jared: seeing a smile on that bruised face wasn't new. Sometimes it was paired with a black eye. Other times, a split lip. Yet, despite everything, people still whispered behind Etienne's back, called him vile names, and spread rumors like wildfire. And Jared—his partner, the one person who was supposed to stand by him—had been no better.
All this time, Jared had dismissed Etienne's pain, told him he was wrong to harbor negative thoughts about Cezar, refused to see what was right in front of him. More often than not, he had left Etienne to work alone while he chose to chase Charles—someone who didn't even care about him. And yet, Etienne was always there for him, with his lighthearted humor, turning storms into sunshine and rainbows.
"Is this for me?" Etienne asked, glancing up before digging into the bento box
"Yeah... for you," Jared answered briefly, his voice low.
"Thanks!" Etienne chirped, shoveling a big spoonful of rice into his mouth.
Maybe it was the aftershock of everything that had happened, but now, every little gesture Etienne made seemed... sensual. When he opened his mouth, when he slurped his food, when he let out those little moans of satisfaction over how delicious it was—there was something unintentional, something that stirred Jared in ways he wasn't ready to admit.
From the very first time Jared had seen Etienne, he couldn't meet his eyes. Etienne was too beautiful, his presence too overwhelming for Jared's flustered 15-year-old self. Maybe that's why Etienne had always joked and flirted with him, to put him at ease when they were together. Because there was no way someone like Etienne could be attracted to someone like Jared—no way! That's why Jared had sought something... less. Something safer. Something Charles could offer: a role to serve, to give without expecting anything in return.
But three years had passed since then, and now, Jared was angry—angry at himself for wasting so much time chasing things that didn't matter, all while what truly mattered had been right in front of him all along.
He watched Etienne in silence, his chest tightening with a newfound resolve. If this sky still called to him, still waited for him, still held a place for him, then he wouldn't take it for granted ever again. He would fight every part of himself that felt unworthy of it. And if the sky truly belonged to him, he wouldn't let anyone take it away—not Cezar, not Charles, not even fate.
Jared reached out, picking a stray grain of rice from Etienne's lips. Without thinking, he popped it into his own mouth. At first, it was just a simple, absent-minded attempt to clean the mess on Etienne's pretty face. But then, the realization hit him like a freight train.
Did he just...? Etienne blinked, clearly startled by the gesture.
Jared's heart skipped a beat as the weight of what he'd done sank in. An indirect kiss. His face burned with embarrassment as he quickly averted his gaze, desperately trying to keep his composure. But he knew better—Etienne could see right through him.
Flustered, Jared rolled over onto his bed, yanking his pillow over his head in a feeble attempt to hide.
Etienne, however, not going to let something like this slide. Putting down his bento box, he licked his lips slowly, a teasing smile curling on his face. "Shall I put more rice on my lips so you can do it again, Roddy?" he teased with seductive voice while shifting his posture, crossing one leg over the other and tilting his shoulder in an exaggeratedly seductive move that only he could pull off so effortlessly.
"Just fucking eat!" Jared snapped, his voice muffled under the pillow. His ears burned as he squirmed on the bed.
Etienne suddenly jumped onto the bed, startling Jared and forcing his face out from under the pillow.
"I want to eat something better than fried rice," Etienne teased, his voice low and playful. He trailed a hand lightly over Jared's knee, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through Jared's already flustered frame.
Jared stiffened, his heart pounding in his chest. But before he could process what was happening, Etienne leaned in closer, his mischievous smile daring Jared to react.
He's seriously trying to kiss me?! This gorgeous, most stunning person in the world?! Me?! Are you serious?! Me?! He could have anyone better than me! Jared's mind raced, his cheeks burning as he pulled back, rejecting Etienne's bold attempt to kiss him.
Etienne's mischievous smile only widened, amused by Jared's panicked reaction. "You're 18 now, don't be shy," he teased, leaning in again, his confidence unshaken.
Etienne was right, Archie also 18, but when it's time for the boys and the girls met, he always scores, snatching girls here and there. But Jared wasn't ready to give in. The next moment, chaos erupted on the bed, their playful struggle filling the room. Jared, though flustered and overwhelmed, refused to let Etienne win this round.
Etienne giggles, the sound light and carefree, as Jared wrestled to gain control of the situation. With a sudden burst of determination, Jared rolled, pinning Etienne beneath him. He held Etienne's wrists firmly, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
Now it was Etienne sprawled out on the bed, his sly grin still lingering but softening into something gentler, something almost... inviting. His body relaxed, his gaze steady, and that smirk of his shifted into an expression of quiet submission.
Jared froze, his hands still gripping Etienne's wrists. His heart pounded in his chest, a wild, erratic rhythm that seemed to echo in the charged silence between them. His pulse thundered in his ears as he looked down at Etienne, who lay there completely at ease, as if inviting Jared to take the lead. Their eyes locked, the air between them thick with unspoken words.
And yet, a creeping doubt gripped Jared's heart, sinking its claws deep into his chest. Am I any different from Cezar if I make a move? The thought paralyzed him, even as every nerve in his body screamed to act on the longing that burned within him.
Because he wanted to. He wanted to come in hard on Etienne, to claim him in a way he'd never dared to imagine before. But would it hurt him? Would it shatter the delicate trust they had built? Would it make Etienne feel anything less than cherished?
Etienne's thoughts, loud and unfiltered, echoed in his mind as if they were spoken aloud: What are you waiting for, boy? I'm putting my guard down. Just grab it! Take me like a real man!
But Jared didn't move.
"I..." Jared whispered, his voice trembling. "I don't deserve you."
Because I'm such a coward. A coward who would not even dare to fight your abuser, a coward who can't even watch.
He let go of Etienne's wrists, backing off and retreating the bed to the bench across the bed. He sat there, head down, unable to look at Etienne, his chest tight with self-loathing.
"Oh, is that so?" Etienne's voice carried a faint edge of disappointment, though he forced a smile to mask it. He sat up, brushing himself off, his usual confidence faltering for just a second.
Etienne wanted to argue, to tell Jared he was wrong, to convince him that he deserved to be loved. But deep down, he knew that love couldn't be begged for or coerced. If Jared was ever going to choose him, it had to come from Jared's own heart—not from Etienne's words.
So he smiled—a small, strained smile that didn't quite reach his eyes—and said nothing more. "Well then, I hope you're happy with whatever you think you deserve."
With that, Etienne climbed to the top bunk, crashing onto the mattress. He stared at the ceiling, letting out a slow breath. At least, for now, the memory of Jared's flustered face was enough to push Cezar's shadow out of his mind.