The classroom was unusually quiet for lunch hour. Most of the students had hurried down to the cafeteria, leaving the room almost deserted. Only one boy sat by the window, his slender frame curled over a desk, a half-open packet of snacks resting in front of him.
His hair, a little too long for school regulations, fell over his eyes, concealing his gaze as he nibbled quietly. His lips—soft, naturally pink, almost too delicate for a boy—pouted slightly as he chewed. From a distance, he looked fragile, the kind of person the world could crush without even trying.
This was Liam.
The silence was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching the classroom door. A moment later, two figures appeared—both tall, both striking, both radiating the kind of presence that made people turn to look.
"Liam, here you are!" one of them said warmly, his tone edged with relief. He wore a sleek black school jacket that clung perfectly to his broad shoulders. He was handsome in a clean, open way, his dark hair neatly combed, his expression cold yet protective. This was Leo, Liam's twin brother.
He walked in with long strides, his friend trailing just behind him.
"We waited for you in the cafeteria," Leo continued as he came closer. "But you never showed up. I figured you might be here."
Liam froze. His snack stilled midway to his mouth. His eyes widened slightly, and his pink lips parted just a fraction looking soft and cute, startled at their sudden appearance. He looked caught, as though he'd been hiding.
"Uh—I…" His words fumbled out, weak and awkward. "I'm… it's…"
Before he could explain, the other boy, standing with his hands casually tucked into his pockets, interrupted.
"Why are you acting dumb?" the boy asked flatly.
His tone wasn't exactly cruel, but it wasn't gentle either. He was stunning in his own way—high-boned features, emerald-green eyes that looked cold even in the midday light, and a body already sculpted with the early edges of muscle. This was Micah.
"Hey, don't call my brother dumb," Leo snapped instantly, stepping in to shield Liam, his protective streak flaring without hesitation.
Micah didn't bother responding. He just scoffed, his lips twitching in what could have been annoyance, or boredom, or both.
Liam, cheeks burning, shook his head quickly. "Brother, you don't have to… I'm fine. Really. I just wasn't feeling too well, that's all."
Leo's brows knitted. "What? What's wrong?"
"Oh, it's nothing," Liam lied, fumbling again. "Just… stomach pain."
"You skipped breakfast again, didn't you?" Leo accused immediately. "And I didn't see you this morning either. Did you have something to do in school that you left so early?"
Liam shifted uncomfortably, his lashes trembling as he avoided his brother's sharp eyes. "No… I… yes, I did have something to do."
His reply stumbled over itself, messy, unconvincing. Leo sighed. He knew that tone. He knew his twin too well—when Liam chose to hide something, no force could drag the truth from him. He could be quiet, timid, even shy, but when he set his mind on silence, he was stubborn to the core.
It reminded Leo of a day years ago, when they were only six.
It had been Micah's sixth birthday.
Leo remembered the morning vividly: their mother bustling about, straightening his little clothes, telling him to behave properly at the party. Liam, however, had been sick. His weak stomach often kept him indoors, away from sweets and cakes, away from anything too exciting. That day, he was still recovering, pale and fragile in his little pajamas.
When he saw Leo getting dressed, his eyes had immediately sharpened.
"Where are you going?" he'd asked, voice small.
"Micah's birthday party," Leo had replied honestly.
The reaction was immediate. Liam made a fuss, insisting he wanted to go, too. Their mother tried to reason with him, telling him he couldn't eat sweets, that his body needed rest. But Liam had been relentless. Tears filled his eyes, his voice broke from pleading, yet behind it was a kind of desperate insistence that made it impossible to ignore.
At the time, their mother thought he was just being stubborn. But Leo knew better. Liam wasn't fussing because he wanted to play—he was fussing because it was Micah.
From the very start, Liam had been strangely drawn to the delicate, pretty boy who was often mistaken for a girl. He paid more attention to him than to anyone else, even Leo. Maybe it was because Liam thought Micah was fragile, someone who needed protection. Maybe it was something else even Liam himself didn't understand.
At school, Micah had already attracted attention for his looks. Some of the boys teased him, while the girls liked him, and the teachers often gave him special attention. To other children, that difference was enough reason to pick on him.
Leo remembered one day in particular, when some boys had cornered Micah during recess. Before Leo could even react, Liam—who usually hated fights, who hated pain—was suddenly there, standing in front of Micah.
The boys sneered. "What are you doing, weakling? Move."
But Liam didn't move. He shook, but he didn't move.
And then, shockingly, he fought.
He was smaller, more fragile, and the fight was brutal. But he bit, scratched, and clawed with an unexpected fierceness. By the time Leo and the teacher rushed over, the other boy was bleeding from small bite marks, and Liam himself was bruised all over, his lip split, his clothes dirty.
Leo had been terrified, furious, ready to fight those boys himself. But before he could, the teacher—Ms. Vera—pulled them apart. She took the boys away for punishment and treatment. She urged Liam to go to the nurse, but Liam refused, silent and stubborn, sitting back at his desk as if nothing had happened.
He didn't cry. He didn't explain. He just kept his head down.
The teacher turned to Micah, who had been standing frozen, asking him what had happened. But before Micah could speak, Liam suddenly cut in, his voice quiet but firm.
"It has nothing to do with him. They were bullying. I fought them. Mom said it's not good to bully."
His words silenced the class. The boys lowered their heads, guilty.
Leo had felt anger boil inside him—not at Liam, but at Micah. Because even though Liam had fought for him, Micah had just stood there, watching. Not lifting a hand. Not even trying.
When the teacher left, Leo had gone straight to Micah, shoving his shoulder in frustration.
"Why did you just stand there? He fought for you, and you did nothing!"
Micah had stumbled and fallen, startled, his eyes wide and wet. Tears welled, but before Leo could press further, Liam's voice lashed out, sharp and furious.
"Don't touch him!"
Leo froze. He had never heard his twin sound so angry.
Liam rushed to Micah, pulling him up despite his resistance, pressing a handkerchief into his hand. "Don't cry," he said firmly, before walking away, face down, his small shoulders trembling.
Leo had been left standing there, confused and hurt. Later, Micah had come to him quietly to apologize. Leo had ignored him. He knew Micah couldn't have stopped Liam, but he resented his coldness, his refusal to act. That was the day Leo realized something—Micah was not as warm-hearted as he looked. He was beautiful, yes, but his heart was hard to read, maybe even cold.
Yet Leo couldn't abandon the friendship. Not when Liam cared so deeply. After the incident the boys involved stop coming to school and he found he way were not coming again and he doesn't know why. The relationship between Micah and my brother slightly improved. At least he doesn't ignore my brother existence entirely, talk to him to some extent though I know he isn't accommodating to him as he is for me but at least he do care for him to some extent. Which is a relief for me and my brother.
And now, here they were, years later.
Just like that day, Micah had followed Leo into Liam's classroom.
Leo sighed, trying again. "Okay. But if you feel worse, let me take you to the school nurse."
"No, it's fine," Liam insisted softly.
"But you're sick."
"I'm fine. Really, you don't have to—"
"Oh, Leo, if he insists, let him be." Micah's low voice cut in, expressionless. "He looks fine to me. Let's go. I'm starving."
"You—!" Leo turned, bristling.
"Brother," Liam interrupted gently. "You guys should go and eat. I'm eating this for now. I'll be okay."
Leo looked at him long and hard. Finally, he gave in with a sigh. "…Alright. But if it gets worse, promise me you'll see the nurse."
"I will," Liam replied, smiling faintly.
"Let's go, then," Micah said flatly, already turning toward the door.
"You shut up!" Leo snapped at him again, unable to help himself.
Micah didn't react. He simply walked toward the door.
"Goodbye, Liam, see you after school" Leo said warmly, patting his brother on his soft hair before following his friend.
Liam waved back softly.
As they were about to leave, Micah paused at the doorway. For a brief moment, he turned his head and looked back.
His emerald eyes landed directly on Liam.
The fragile boy, caught completely off guard, froze. He hadn't expected Micah to turn around. Their eyes met. A flush immediately spread across Liam's cheeks, bright and betraying. Embarrassed, he dropped his gaze, his lips pressing together tightly.
Micah's brows twitched upward ever so slightly. His face remained expressionless, but his eyes flashed with something unreadable. A glimmer, a flicker—gone before anyone could name it. He turned back and walked away.
No one knew what he was thinking.
The classroom fell quiet again.
Liam sat there, his heart pounding. His face was still burning red. He buried his head in his folded arms on the desk, muffling his voice.
"Oh my God, he looked at me. Why? Did he see my face? Oh, what is this…"
He internally screamed, kicking his feet softly under the desk like a child. His chest felt tight, hot, confused.
After several minutes, he slowly calmed down, lifting his head just enough to breathe. His lips parted as a whisper escaped.
"How can I tell my brother… that I had my first wet dream… and the person in it… was a boy? And not just any boy… but Micah…"
His fingers tightened around the edge of his desk, his heart aching in a way he couldn't put into words.