"You know why I hate this place so much?" Etienne asked, licking his ice cream. Jared and Etienne were having dinner in the cafeteria. Etienne was eating an ice cream cone, and Jared's thoughts wandered, imagining something far too sexy about the way Etienne licked the ice cream.
"...too many people! And all of them are men—men who haven't touched a woman in ages. You know what it---" Etienne paused mid-sentence when he noticed Jared's gaze locked on his lips rather than his words. A mischievous glint sparkled in Etienne's eyes. Deciding to tease, he made an exaggerated swallowing gesture with the cone, then slowly licked the tip of the ice cream.
Jared's face flushed, and he chuckled nervously. "Don't do that."
"What? How am I supposed to eat ice cream, then?" Etienne replied, feigning innocence with a playful smirk.
Jared left the table and walked to the counter. It would take a while, and Etienne waited by licking his ice cream. As he enjoyed it while reading a book, he noticed someone staring from the distance. Etienne raised his eyes and found a bald man with a scar above his ear watching him intently. And he wasn't the only one whose eyes were drawn to him.
Etienne felt surrounded by eyes staring at him, even though in reality, they might have been busy with themselves. But surely the atmosphere—especially since he was alone right now—felt like he was being surrounded by people who were judging him.
He stopped licking the ice cream. He wasn't even in the mood for it anymore.
Then, Jared returned with an ice cream cone. "Here, here's how you eat an ice cream cone without being suggestive."
Jared bit into the ice cream cone as if eating a chicken drum. Somehow, it tickled Etienne. "You're not eating it like that. Brain freeze!"
"Brain freeze? What is that?" Jared furrowed his eyebrows, pretending he had never heard of it. He then proceeded to eat the ice cream until it was all gone.
"Alright, let me try," Etienne said, biting into the ice cream while maintaining eye contact with Jared. Somehow, that eye contact brought a smile to Jared's face as he admired the beautiful sparkle in Etienne's eyes. Jared couldn't get enough of gazing into Etienne's soft glances. They felt like cotton candy—so delicate, like a cloud. Words could never fully capture how beautiful Etienne was to him.
"You're beautiful," Jared said out of the blue, his eyes dreamy.
Etienne leaned in closer to Jared and whispered, "You know what else is beautiful?"
Jared didn't want to run away anymore. Not this time. He wanted to accept it—there was love to embrace, love to feel. "What?" he asked.
"You and me, together." Etienne leaned in even closer, and Jared fought the urge to pull away. He didn't want to run anymore; he wanted to embrace it—the love that had been there all along, the love he had wasted so much time ignoring.
Etienne's lips met his in a gentle touch, lingering for a few seconds. Unhurried. Unwavering.
And then, Jared returned the kiss.
Let people watch, let them talk, let them judge. They got no power over these feelings, and that's all that matters; the happiness in their eyes as they pull away from the linking lips.
***
As their romance blossomed, the changes in Etienne became evident. First, it was the earrings—noticeable, vibrant, and unapologetically bold. They dangled from his ears like tiny declarations of freedom, shimmering in the light. Then came the subtler shifts. He stopped caring who might be watching. The carefully curated mask of masculinity he'd worn for so long began to slip away, piece by piece, until it was gone entirely.
Yet, despite these changes, there was one thing he still couldn't touch.
It was tucked away in a box, locked and hidden at the very bottom of his cabinet, buried under piles of other belongings. As though by burying it, he could bury what it meant, what it represented. And yet, he couldn't let it go. The mere thought of discarding it left a dull ache in his chest.
Jared had noticed the box before, tucked away under Etienne's cabinet, its edges barely visible beneath a clutter of belongings. His curiosity had stirred, but he never asked. He respected Etienne too much to pry into something he clearly wasn't ready to share. So, he brushed it off, convincing himself it wasn't his rights to explore.
But today, something changed.
Etienne crouched in front of the cabinet, pulling out the box with a deliberate slowness. Revealing the faint outline of its once-shiny exterior. He stared at it, his brows furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line.
He didn't open it right away. Instead, he sat there with the box resting on his lap, as though it carried the weight of his past. He stared at it for a while, deciding whether to keep it hidden under the cabinet or finally open it, risking a journey back in time to the moment he had decided to lock it away.
Should he leave it buried, hidden from sight, or dare to open it and face the memories inside?
This time, he didn't want to run away from himself again. He wanted to embrace the side of him he had kept safe all these years, hidden out of fear that he would get hurt if he allowed it to resurface.
That was the first day Etienne started applying makeup again. Jared's reaction was immediate and impossible to miss. His eyes widened as he stared at Etienne, frozen for a second before bursting out, "No way—you're joking!"
The words were simple enough, but the excitement on Jared's face said everything. His expression lit up, his voice teetering on the edge of laughter, and Etienne could swear he saw the glint of love sparkling in Jared's eyes.
Etienne chuckled at Jared's reaction, his shoulders raised, "What? Does it look that bad?"
Jared couldn't tear his eyes away from Etienne. Running his hands through his hair, he squeezed it lightly, a telltale sign of his struggle to collect his thoughts. Even without the "upgrade," Etienne was already gorgeous, but now he had leveled it up!
The intensity in Jared's gaze spoke louder than words, leaving no doubt about how much he adored what he saw. Finally, he muttered, his voice laced with nervous humor, "Right now, I'm trying really hard not to say something that makes you think I'm a creep..."
"What a compliment, thanks, I'm glad I still pull it off perfectly," Etienne said with a playful grin as he returned to the mirror, perfecting his makeup. His fingers moved with practiced ease, applying just the right amount of touch to accentuate his features.
"Why are you doing this? I mean, it's good, I just wonder why you started applying makeup. I thought you didn't want people to see your feminine side...?" Jared asked, carefully phrasing his question, almost as if afraid to push too far.
Etienne paused, his fingers halting mid-application of mascara as he considered Jared's question. "I don't know, I feel adventurous right now," he said almost to himself, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "I mean, I do this because makeup is an art of refinement, you know? I love painting my face and enhancing my appearance."
"It sure is," Jared said, his face reflected in the mirror, filled with admiration. He decided not to interrupt Etienne any longer, returning to his rifle. Sitting on his bunk, he resumed cleaning the weapon, allowing Etienne to continue his artistic ritual without distraction.
As Etienne's fingers brushed over his features, the makeup grew thicker, his face beginning to transform, taking him back to that time. A slight change in his expression appeared. Something was trying to rise, like a zombie awakening from the grave—it was suffocating. His hands froze, and a sudden chill seemed to fill the room.
It wasn't the makeup that stopped him, but the memories—those horrible memories from the past. He had been around Jared's age the last time he'd applied makeup like this. Back then, Cezar had summoned him to his office, his voice low and threatening as he told Etienne to stop wearing makeup and jewelry, saying it would "draw creeps" to him. Etienne had argued back, defending his right to express himself. But that was when Cezar first laid his hands on him.
The first time Etienne had truly felt powerless and dominated.
It had been terrifying—an experience so horrifying it felt like a nightmare he kept trying to deny. As he buried the tools in a box, hidden beneath the cabinet, he thought it was forgotten, a wound healed by the passage of time. But like a ghost, it resurfaced without warning, haunting Etienne and gnawing at his very spirit.
Etienne's lips parted, but no words came out. His breath hitched, his chest tightening as the weight of the memories suffocated him.
It all returned to him, as if he had traveled back in time to five years ago. The slap landed so hard that his vision exploded into a cascade of yellow sparks, like fireworks bursting behind his eyes, leaving him momentarily stunned and unsteady. He could still feel the burn of those strong, unrelenting hands that slammed him onto the table, stripping away not just his clothing but his sense of safety, forcing him into a state of unwanted vulnerability.
He couldn't scream because a stinky sock was stuffed in his mouth to silence him.
"You want to be a girl?! Let me show you what it tastes like!"
Maybe it was anger, or maybe it was fear—the pencil liner fell from Etienne's fingers.
"What is it?" Jared asked, his voice softening as he sensed the sudden shift in Etienne's mood.
For a moment, Etienne froze—his whole body still as time seemed to stretch and warp, pulling him back into the past. His eyes, once so full of life and warmth, grew distant, clouded with fear. The air in the room felt thicker, charged with the heaviness of unspoken pain.
Jared stand up from his bunk and took a step closer, his voice gentle yet concerned. "Etienne?"
"No, no... this is a big mistake...!" Etienne's voice trembles.
He began packing away the makeup, hurriedly placing it into the bag and trying to locking it away again—an action that felt like he was locking a part of himself in with it. But something was off. The anxiety inside him grew, and his hands trembled as he nearly destroyed the makeup packs in his haste, feeling as if he were battling against something much deeper than just his own nerves.
"Etienne, calm down!" Jared's voice carried a sharp urgency as he reached out, firmly but gently grabbing Etienne's trembling hands. He stopped him just in time, keeping the makeup bag from being hurled against the wall. Jared's grip was steady, his touch deliberate—he knew how much these tools meant to Etienne, and he couldn't let him destroy something so precious in a moment of despair.
"This is a mistake! I should've never even thought about it!" Etienne's voice cracked as tears streamed down his face, smudging the carefully applied makeup. Black streaks ran down his cheeks, tracing a painful path that mirrored the storm of emotions inside him—a chaotic mix of anger, regret, and vulnerability laid bare.
Jared pulled Etienne closer, holding him tightly, as if he wanted to transfer all his strength to Etienne's shaken body. Etienne's fear was raw and palpable, but Jared stood firm—unwavering, like a towering tree sheltering fragile creatures from relentless storms. He would hold onto Etienne's fear until it softened, until it subsided, and he wouldn't let go. Jared wasn't going to let Etienne face this alone, even if he still had no understanding of what haunted Etienne's mind.
If Etienne could, he would tell Jared about the fear that gripped him so tightly, but the words wouldn't come. They were trapped, locked behind the walls he had built around himself for so long. For years, he had hidden from this fear, telling himself it was better to deal with it alone.
He feared that if anyone knew, they might side with his abuser, turning his suffering into a twisted narrative, or worse, fuel for idle gossip. The thought of others seeing him as weak—as prey—only deepened his resolve to keep it hidden. No one had ever stood beside him like Jared was now, wrapping his arms like blanket, shielding him with unwavering strength. So he had buried it, locking the pain away deep within himself, silently carrying the unbearable weight alone.
Unconsciously, Etienne's grip on Jared's shoulders tightened, his fingers digging into the fabric as if trying to anchor himself. In that moment, his 18-year-old self, the boy who had once been sabotaged from himself and terrified, seemed to seek refuge in Jared's embrace, silently pleading for the comfort and safety that Jared was now offering.
Jared felt the warmth of Etienne's tears soaking through his shirt, his shoulders wets as Etienne quietly wept. His heart ached at the sound of Etienne's sorrow, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he pressed his cheek gently against Etienne's ear. He let Etienne know that he didn't have to face this alone, that Jared would lend him whatever strength he could, even if it was nothing more than an embrace. He would hold Etienne until all the fears faded away.
Jared didn't say a word. He knew that it's not words that Etienne need now, but protection from his own fear. Jared was careful not to risk saying something that making Etienne feel judged. Sometimes, silence held more power than any words. And right now, his arms around Etienne, his quiet, steady presence, were the only things he could offer.
They held each other for two hours, the weight of silence wrapping around them, unbroken except for the quiet sounds of Etienne's breathing as he began to soften. Slowly, all the tension in his body seemed to evaporate, but his hold on Jared remained, his head gently resting on Jared's neck.
"I'm sorry… you must be confused," Etienne whispered, his voice still carrying the remnants of his vulnerability. His hand rests inside Jared's palm.
Jared gently shifted, his hand lightly rubbing Etienne's back. "I'm not confused," he replied with quiet assurance. "You felt something, and you needed me. That's what happened."
Etienne, still buried in Jared's embrace, tightened his grip, as though grounding himself in the warmth Jared provided. He closed his eyes, his breath soft against Jared's skin. "Is it okay if we stay like this until tomorrow morning? I love your smell... and I love being hugged by you."
Jared chuckled, his lips brushing the top of Etienne's head as he relaxed into the warmth of the moment. "I'm okay with that," he murmured. "I love your scent too." He closed his eyes and kiss Etienne's hair. The fragility of the moment, their closeness, wrapped them in a quiet, tender peace.
Etienne closed his eyes and snuggled into Jared's neck. He knew some makeup on his face, mixed with tears, had stained Jared's shirt, but he didn't want to let go. He needed a hug, someone to show him that he was safe and not alone.
When Jared woke up in the morning, he found himself alone. Etienne was no longer lying on his chest. As he looked around, he noticed someone standing right in front of him, in an effeminate pose, gently greeting him, "Hi, babe, good morning."
It took Jared a few seconds to comprehend what he was seeing, who is this in his unit? and where is Etienne? However, when Jared realized who this person is, his smile rose. "Damn… gorgeous!"
Etienne was no longer shaken, no longer terrified. His makeup box lay on the table, neatly placed in front of the mirror, and Etienne now looked like a completely different person. Gone was the more masculine facade he once wore, replaced by a version of himself he had always wanted to present to the world. The makeup on his face was applied just right, accentuating his features, and long earrings dangled from his earlobes, adding a touch of flair. His turtleneck, hugging his slender frame, highlighted his sexy collarbones and the graceful lines of his body, complementing his flamboyant gestures with effortless elegance.
"I must be dreaming, please don't wake me up," Jared grinned, dreamy eyes staring at Etienne.
Etienne chuckled softly and leaned in closer to Jared. "No, I'm not a dream," he murmured with a genuine smile before pressing a deep kiss to Jared's cheek. It was a kiss full of gratitude, a silent acknowledgment of how lucky he felt to have Jared by his side. The warmth of the moment lingered, a simple yet profound expression of affection.
Etienne smiled as he saw the makeup stain on Jared's shirt. He wiped it, but it got stuck there. "I'm sorry about this, I'll clean it up later."
Jared was crazy in love right now; he couldn't take his eyes off Etienne, and his brain felt drunk. "It's just a shirt."
"You're the sweetest," Etienne kissed him again, and when he pulled back, he said, "I'll still clean it up later," then strolled away with a teasing touch to Jared's jawline. He stopped in front of the mirror to fix his wolfcut hairstyle.
Jared rolled off his bunk, stretching lazily. "Have you showered?" he asked, moving closer to Etienne and leaning in to sniff his nape. Slowly, he slid his arms around Etienne's waist—hesitant at first, the weight of his lingering self-doubt still holding him back.
Sensing the lingering doubt in Jared's touch, Etienne smiled softly and reached down to take Jared's hands, securing them firmly in place. "There," he murmured, his voice low and reassuring.
"No need to hold back, Cutie. And yeah, just finished shower before finally painting my face," Etienne leaned back slightly, resting against Jared, who took the opportunity to plant a soft kiss on his nape.
"That's good you showered first," Jared rubbing the tip of his nose on Etienne's skin. "Maybe it's been too long since you last applied makeup—you forgot the order."
Etienne giggled, running his fingers gently through Jared's hair. "No I'm not....you sleep like a baby, I can't wake you up," he replied softly.
"You should've wake me up, I hate doing things without you," Jared protest. His voice low and sincere.
Etienne turned his body around and placed his arms around Jared, pulling him close. "Next time," he promised softly and seal it with a kiss.