Gabe looked up from the book he was reading as Trist got up and slid his sketchbook into its place on his high shelf before leaving the room. He was probably going to go take a shower and then he’d come back in nothing but his boxers and Gabe would have to keep his eyes firmly, but not conspicuously, away from his body.

He heard a thwack and saw movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up to see Trist’s sketchbook laying open on the floor. It had slid off the shelf.

Gabe hesitated. Should he just pretend he hadn’t noticed, or would Trist think he’d done something if he came back to see it on the floor? He set his book aside and stood up. Maybe he could just chuck it back up there and Trist would never have to know it had happened.

Gabe didn’t mean to look at what was drawn on the pages, but he caught a glimpse and his eyes were drawn in by what he saw. It was a full page, detailed pencil drawing of Gabe’s exposed back, after his stitches had been removed. He picked the sketchbook up to get a closer look.

It was a beautiful drawing. In real life, his back was gross and ugly, but somehow Trist had managed to draw it more or less accurately but set all that aside and focus instead on the hurt of it. Gabe hated looking at his back, but this… he liked this. It made him feel understood.

Gabe saw movement in the doorway and looked up to meet Trist’s cold, hard gaze.

Trist snatched the sketchbook away from Gabe, glanced down at the page it was open to, and slammed it shut. “I asked one thing from you. Just one thing!”

“I’m sorry,” Gabe said, holding his hands up in front of himself to urge Trist to calm down. “It fell off the shelf and I was just going to put it back.”

“I don’t believe you,” Trist said, and then he turned and he left the room with his sketchbook in hand.

“Trist, wait!” Gabe called out as he hurried after him, but Trist’s stride was longer. Gabe reached the front door just in time for Trist to slam it in his face.

“What happened?” Sophie called out from the living room.

Gabe hugged himself as he went to stand in the doorway to the living room, looking in at the rest of the family. “I fucked up.”

“Did you actually this time, or is he just being dramatic again?” Sophie asked.

“Well…” Gabe said, because yeah, this did seem pretty over-dramatic. Was it really that big of a deal? But, no. He had fucked up. “Yeah, this one was my fault. Listen, I think I know where he’s gone and it’s not far, so I’m just gonna go find him.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Bee asked.

“No, I’m not, but I need to talk to him about this.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Alice offered. “I can drive you.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s not far.”

“Okay. Well, if you need anything, you have my number now,” Alice said. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Gabe tried to call Trist as he started walking towards the park, but of course Trist immediately rejected every attempt and his texts were left unread. Gabe abandoned his attempts when he reached the park fifteen minutes later and instead used his phone as a flashlight so that he could make his way down the trail without breaking his ankles.

There was light up ahead, near the bridge where they’d sat and fed Peter. There was a small camping lantern hanging from one of the trees and Trist was standing beneath it, already glaring at Gabe.

“No, fuck off,” Trist said. “You can’t just come here.”

Gabe’s heart clenched, but he didn’t stop approaching. “We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“It really did fall off the shelf.”

Trist crossed his arms over his chest and leant back against the tree. “I don’t give a fuck. Go away.”

“Why is this such a big deal? Are you worried I’ll think you’re gay?”

Trist didn’t say anything, didn’t move.

“I know I’m not exactly sexy shirtless, Trist. Nobody’s going to be drawing that mess out of lust.”

“Right,” Trist said, but it had a sarcastic, bitter edge to it.

“What are you even so afraid of? Is this all just you being homophobic again?”

“I’m not homophobic.”

“You’re incredibly homophobic, Trist. And maybe that doesn’t mean being cruel in your case. Hell, I think you’re genuinely scared of it. But you are. Every time you get angry, get freaked out like this, that’s what it’s really about, isn’t it?”

Trist looked away. Some of the energy had drained out of him and now he looked more upset than angry. “Just leave me alone.”

“No. Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Well, too bad. I need you to tell me what you need from me for you to be comfortable.”

“I needed you to not look in that sketchbook, but it’s a bit late for that. What else did you see?”

“Nothing. It fell open to that page. That’s all I saw.”

Trist let out a disbelieving huff. He still wouldn’t look at Gabe. “Bullshit.”

“It’s true. I didn’t mean to look, but…” Gabe shrugged. “It kinda grabbed my attention.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Gabe sat down on the log they’d sat on together just a few days ago while they fed Peter peas. “I’m not going to hit on you or anything, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

Trist finally looked at him, his eyebrows drawing together in a way that suggested no, that was not something that had remotely been on his mind. “What?”

“I know you’re not gay and I respect that.”

“Yeah, but… what are you saying?”

Gabe just stared at him for a moment. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

“Oh my God.” Gabe buried his face in his hands. All this time, Trist didn’t even know he was gay.

“Gabe, what are you saying?”

Gabe put his hands in his lap and looked Trist in the eye. “Well, considering how you react to all things slightly gay this is probably going to make you want nothing to do with me, but I can’t deal with being in the closet. I’m gay, Trist.”

Trist just stared at him, expression unreadable. “You’re gay.”

Gabe shrugged. “Most people just assume. I figured you knew.”

“I did not know,” Trist said carefully. He let out a long sigh. “Shit.”

“Do you hate me?”

Trist came and sat down on the other end of the log. “I don’t hate you, no.”

“Do you—”

“Shh.”

“Okay.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, staring out at the darkness. Moths flew around the lantern. There was a possum moving about in one of the trees.

“I’m gay,” Trist said eventually, eyes still straight ahead.

“Oh,” Gabe said. “Oh. Okay.”

Trist took a deep breath in and let it out again. “Yeah.”

“You thought I was straight and if I found out…”

Trist nodded.

“Fuck. Trist…” He shuffled over on the log, close enough that he could reach out and touch Trist. But he didn’t. Not yet. “Why were you so scared? Even if you thought I was straight, I don’t think I did anything that would make you think I’d be homophobic.”

“That’s why I got kicked out of home. My brother found my sketchbook. Found some things in my sketchbook. He showed my dad, and…” Trist shrugged.

“That’s terrible. I’m sorry.”

“I haven’t told anyone else about what happened. Or that I’m gay. I’m not homophobic, but…” He let out a quiet, broken laugh. “I am scared.”

“You know they won’t care, right?” Gabe asked. “You might not have known I was gay, but I’m pretty sure the girls do. I haven’t explicitly mentioned it, but the way they treat me isn’t the way girls treat straight guys. They know I’m not going to be interested in them. I think Bee might even already suspect you’re not straight.”

“Probably,” Trist admitted. “And I know, they’d be completely fine with it. All of them. I’m not even really afraid of them knowing. It’s just… saying it.”

“Yeah, I get it. You know you don’t really have anything to be afraid of, but it’s so firmly attached to that trauma that you can’t help but fear it.”

“Hey, I’m sorry I was such an asshole.” He looked up and met Gabe’s gaze. God, he was beautiful, and even more so now that he wasn’t hiding himself behind a defensive mask. “You’re right, I was just scared. But you didn’t deserve it and I definitely didn’t mean to make you feel like I had something against you because you were gay.” He looked away again and shook his head. “Fuck, never that.”

“You didn’t know, and as far as homophobia I’ve faced goes, it was pretty mild.”

“Yeah?”

“I go to an all boys school. It’s not the most queer friendly space.”

“Why don’t you go to a different school?”

“Adam has to because Sally was worried about how he’d be around girls, and she wanted us to go to the same one, so…”

“You still have one more year of high school, right?” Trist asked, and Gabe nodded. “When summer’s over, you should go to school with Bee and Sophie. You won’t get bullied there. At least not much.”

“Yeah. Maybe I will.”

Gabe inched slightly closer and placed his hand next to Trist’s, just the slightest touch of skin against skin. An invitation easily rejected without it having to be any kind of a thing if Trist chose.

Trist looked down at their hands. Just looked for so long that Gabe almost chickened out and pulled back, but then his pinky finger extended and brushed the back of one of Gabe’s knuckles.

Gabe bit down on a smile. He lifted his hand up and Trist rolled his hand over, palm open, to accept it, and then they were sitting there, in the dark, in silence, holding hands.

After a few minutes, Trist shuffled closer and then they were sitting pressed against one another, their link hands resting on their touching thighs. Gabe could hear Trist’s breathing.

It was Gabe who first turned his head, who leant in, but Trist was there to meet him, his lips hot and wet and eager. Trist released their linked hands so that he could wrap an arm around Gabe, pull him closer. Gabe wanted to crawl onto Trist’s lap, to meld their bodies together, but then his arm pressed against Trist’s chest at a bad angle and he jolted as sharp pain emanated from it.

Trist loosened his grip on Gabe and pulled out of the kiss. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just leant on the bruise on my arm funny.”

“Oh, shit, yeah.” Trist took hold of Gabe’s wrist and extended his arm out so that he could see the bruise. It had begun to shift from its initial striking blue and purple tones into uglier yellows and greens. “Sorry. You know I wouldn’t hurt you on purpose, right?”

Gabe pulled his arm back against his chest. “Yeah, I know. I’ve seen you angry enough times. I know you’re not a violent person.”

“You’re right that I’m not, but you’ve never really seen me angry. Just… emotional. I get upset and I lash out, but it’s not really anger.”

“I guess I did sort of pick up on that. I thought you were scared I’d think you were gay, I just never thought that you might actually be.”

Trist’s phone started ringing and he pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “Alice. She’s probably worried about what we’re up to. She’d never guess that we’re actually talking or like… making out or whatever. I guess we should get back.”

“I guess,” Gabe said, but he didn’t get up when Trist did. When Trist turned to face him, expression quizzical, Gabe asked, “This isn’t going to be another thing where we’ve had a moment and then it’s over and you clam up again once we get home, is it?”

“Listen…” Trist let out a long exhale. “Things are going to be different, but I don’t know what that’s going to look like. Because this, you and me,” he gestured between them, “I don’t know what this is or what it’s going to be. This was good, but I can’t— I don’t really, with the whole opening up and sharing my feelings very much.”

Gabe looked down at his feet. “I like it when you open up to me.”

“I like it too, I just—” He shook his head. “Nevermind. Let’s just not get ahead of ourselves, okay? I promise I won’t be such a jerk to you anymore.”

“Okay,” Gabe stood and dusted his cargo shorts off. “Let’s go.”