His stomach twisted. Only two people knocked like that—Marcus or Dami. And Dami had left only a few hours earlier after spending the night wrapped around him, whispering promises into the quiet dark.

He opened the door to find Marcus standing in the hallway, hands shoved deep in his pockets, shoulders tense. No toolbox this time. Just his older brother, looking exhausted and uncertain.

“Can I come in?” Marcus asked, voice gruff. Alex stepped aside without a word. The air between them felt thick, charged with everything unsaid since the blow-up. 

Marcus walked in, eyes scanning the living room as if searching for evidence. There was none—Dami had taken his guitar and hoodie when he left at dawn.

They stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. Marcus broke the silence first. “Mom’s worried. Says you’re avoiding everyone. Lena keeps asking if I’ve talked to you.”

Alex crossed his arms. “Have you?” 

Marcus’s jaw tightened. “No. Been too angry.” He exhaled heavily and dropped onto the couch—the same couch where everything had started weeks ago. “But I can’t keep doing this. Family’s falling apart because of… whatever this is between you and Dami.”

Alex sat on the armchair across from him, heart hammering. “It’s not ‘whatever.’ I love him, Marcus. And he loves me. We tried to fight it. We really did. But it’s real.”

Marcus rubbed a hand over his face. “That’s what kills me. I’ve known Dami since we were eighteen. I’ve seen him at his lowest—drunk, broke, fighting with his dad. I pulled him out of more shit than I can count. He’s family to me. And then I find out my own brother’s been sneaking around with him like it’s some dirty secret.”

“It wasn’t dirty,” Alex said quietly. “It was scary. We were terrified of exactly this—losing you. Losing the family.”

Silence stretched. Marcus stared at the floor, elbows on his knees. 

“When I saw those texts… it felt like betrayal. Both of you lying to my face. Laughing behind my back.”

“We weren’t laughing,” Alex whispered. 

“We were miserable half the time. The guilt was eating us alive. Every family dinner, every time you thanked me for ‘looking out for him’—it killed me.”

Marcus looked up, eyes red. “Then why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because I knew you’d react like this.” Alex’s voice cracked. “Because Dami’s your best friend and I’m your little brother. Because I was scared you’d make me choose.”

Marcus didn’t answer right away. The quiet stretched until it felt unbearable. A second knock sounded—lighter this time. 

Both brothers turned toward the door. Alex stood and opened it. Dami stood there, guitar case in one hand, looking nervous but determined. His eyes flicked between Alex and Marcus, tension visible in every line of his body.

“I saw your truck downstairs,” Dami said to Marcus. “Figured you might be here. If you want me to leave—”

“No.” Marcus stood slowly. “Stay. We need to do this.”

The three of them sat in the living room—Alex and Dami on the couch, Marcus in the armchair. 

The tension was thick enough to choke on. 

Dami spoke first, voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. “I owe you an apology, man. A real one. You’ve been there for me when no one else was. Treated me like a brother. And I betrayed that by hiding this from you. I was scared. Scared of what it meant about me. Scared of losing you. Scared of facing my dad if he ever found out.”

Marcus listened, jaw tight.

“But I’m not scared of how I feel about Alex anymore,” Dami continued. 

“He makes me better. Makes me want to be honest. I love him. And if that costs me our friendship… it’ll break me. But I can’t go back to pretending.”

Marcus’s eyes shifted to Alex. “And you? You’re willing to risk blowing up the family for this?”

Alex reached over and took Dami’s hand—openly, in front of his brother. “I already risked losing him by hiding. I won’t do it again. I love him too. If the family can’t accept it, that’s on them. But I hope you can. Eventually.”

The room fell quiet again. Marcus stared at their joined hands for a long moment. Finally, he sighed—a long, weary sound. 

“I’m not gonna lie. This is weird as hell for me. My best friend and my little brother… it’s a lot to wrap my head around. I’m still pissed about the lying. That shit hurt.”

“We know,” Dami said softly. Marcus leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“But… I’ve never seen Dami look at anyone the way he looks at you, Alex. And you—you’ve been different lately. Happier when you thought no one was watching. If this is real…” He shrugged, helpless. “Then I guess I have to learn to deal with it. For both of you.”

Alex’s breath caught. “You mean that?”

“I’m not saying it’s easy. And I’m not promising I won’t be awkward as fuck for a while.” Marcus managed a small, reluctant smile. 

“But you’re both important to me. Family. If being together makes you happy… I’ll try. Just—no more secrets. No more sneaking around behind my back.”

Dami let out a shaky laugh, relief flooding his face. “No more secrets. Promise.”

Alex squeezed Dami’s hand tighter. “Thank you. Seriously.”

Marcus stood, still looking a little shell-shocked. “I need time. Don’t expect me to be throwing you a damn engagement party next week or anything. But… I won’t stand in your way.”

He headed for the door. At the threshold, he paused and looked back at them. “And Dami—if you hurt him, I’ll kick your ass. Brother or not.”

Dami nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. 

“Fair.”

Marcus left, the door clicking shut softly behind him. The moment he was gone, Alex turned to Dami, heart pounding with a mix of disbelief and joy. They collided in a fierce kiss—relieved, grateful, full of everything they’d almost lost. Dami’s hands framed Alex’s face, thumbs brushing away the tears Alex hadn’t realized were falling.

“He’s trying,” Alex whispered against Dami’s mouth. “He is.” Dami pulled back just enough to rest their foreheads together. “And we’ll give him time. No pressure.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon on the couch, tangled together, talking softly about the future—how to tell the rest of the family when the time was right, how Dami wanted to 

keep writing songs that didn’t have to hide anymore, how Alex’s big project suddenly felt exciting again with Dami by his side.

As evening light faded, Dami picked up his guitar and played a new melody—soft, hopeful, nothing like the aching viral track. No lyrics yet. Just warm chords that felt like healing.

Alex listened with his head on Dami’s shoulder, the flame between them no longer secret or destructive, but steady and warm. 

Slow forgiveness had begun. The ashes were cooling. And from them, something stronger was starting to grow.