Chapter Text
Kaelix knows now that he shouldn’t have bothered trying. Shouldn’t have lamented the fact that his tiny school of one hundred students didn’t have a single music-related club, shouldn’t have dreamed up the idea, shouldn’t have gone as far as to contact the dean of students and earn his proposal a shiny stamp of approval. It should have been enough to land the lead role in the musical every year and the solo in each choir performance. He shouldn’t have sought more attention as a means to fulfill a yearning for something he didn’t quite understand. He should have been content to be invisible — and now he’s paying the price.
Invisibility, in fact, would have been his saving grace insofar as his current predicament goes: it’s 4PM on a Friday afternoon, and rather than celebrating the start of the weekend alongside his friends, he’s stuck here at school against his will — not alone, but worse — he’s alone with Zeal Ginjoka of all people, the most notorious delinquent in the entire grade.
Up until earlier that day when he had submitted the list of students who had signed up for the music club, Kaelix hadn’t known Zeal’s name although he had been plenty familiar with Zeal’s face. It’s difficult to pinpoint why, but there’s something about the way Zeal carries himself that commands attention, even aside from the flashy goth aesthetic and perpetual scowl he wears — Kaelix had heard that Zeal is a couple years older than the rest of the class having had to repeat the year so many times, so maybe that’s why. It must be, he reasons, since he gets along perfectly well with all the other so-called troublemakers. Only in Zeal’s presence had he ever felt something akin to intimidation.
So, that’s why Kaelix doesn’t even try to initiate a conversation. That’s why half an hour into the club “meeting,” he’s still fidgeting at his desk across the room, sweat-soaked hands tightly clasped together like a desperate prayer, internally cursing his friends and even the club moderator who had all bailed the moment they had found out who would be joining them that afternoon.
Eventually, Zeal is the first one to speak.
“Do I make you nervous?”
It takes every ounce of self-restraint Kaelix can muster to contain the urge to cry out in surprise as Zeal’s words cut through the dead silence like a knife, and even then he can’t help but to flinch at the damn jumpscare of the older boy’s unexpectedly deep voice.
“N– Not really, no,” he stutters without looking in Zeal’s direction. Inside, he wants to scream.
Zeal clicks his tongue in a way Kaelix doesn’t understand how to interpret, and it makes him feel fucking obtuse.
“Sure, bud,” Zeal says after a few beats, his tone equally as dispassionate as before.
Oh fuck, he hates me. He hates me, and I didn’t even do anything.
Kaelix thumbs over jagged grooves at the edge of his desk where somebody else — likely a bored classmate — had carved into the rubber caulking with a ballpoint pen. He tries to stabilize his breathing.
“So, have you done it already?”
It’s an even more audacious question than the first, but for an entirely different reason. Instead of letting the words heighten his anxiety, this time Kaelix just blinks, doubting his own ears. Surely, this isn’t what it sounds like. Surely, Zeal hadn’t meant to say–
“Sex. Have you had sex yet?”
Before he can stop himself, Kaelix whirls around in his chair and gapes directly at Zeal in pure bewilderment and indignation.
On the opposite side of the otherwise empty classroom, Zeal leans back in his chair with his feet propped up on his desk, his view of Kaelix through the space between his combat boots only partly obstructed. There’s one neon-colored Skullcandy earbud pulled out from its wire, dangling between a manicured thumb and forefinger, the black matte shellac noticeably chipped away around the top edges of each nail and close to the cuticles.
“Ah, there we go,” Zeal says, smirking when he sees the expression on Kaelix’s face.
“‘There we go?’ What’s that supposed to mean, exactly?” Kaelix demands. “Are you purposely trying to get a rise out of me, or what?”
“Ah, so you get it.” Zeal maintains eye contact, swinging his legs off the surface in front of him in a singular, fluid motion then rises from his chair. “Why are you letting me get a rise out of you, then?”
Kaelix hates the way he’s so utterly at a loss to contradict anything Zeal is saying, hates the way his gaze traces the silhouette of Zeal’s slender thighs like it’s the most natural thing in the universe, the way he finds himself gawking at a patch of bare skin visible through a tear in the thigh of Zeal’s overdyed skinny jeans. Before he even has the chance to be appalled by his own instincts, he notices that Zeal has already made his way to his side of the room, crouched over his desk and staring him directly in the eyes.
For the first time, Kaelix notices the amber flecks that coalesce into a hard gradient at the center of either of Zeal’s kohl-lined purple eyes, glinting like freshly-minted, gold coins. Beautiful, striking, almost enough to keep him transfixed — albeit not enough to quell the profound sense of shame that follows.
Zeal doesn’t let him. The moment he attempts to look away, Zeal grabs a fistful from the collar of Kaelix’s shirt and yanks him roughly out of his chair up to eye level, eliciting a startled yelp from the younger boy.
“Calm down, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Zeal mutters, and despite his words Kaelix can hear the irritation seeping into his low, previously monotone voice. “You act like some sort of kicked, innocent puppy.”
Is it not your plan to rough me up? Kaelix wants to ask. Instead, he squeaks out a tiny yes, nodding vigorously in compliance. He at least has enough social awareness to recognize that sating his curiosity isn’t worth the consequence of escalation.
Perhaps taking notice of Kaelix’s apprehension, Zeal’s glare softens a little and he releases the hold on Kaelix’s shirt. “Look, I’m not trying to scare you. I just don’t understand you.”
The apology catches Kaelix off guard. “What’s there to not understand?” he asks, genuinely puzzled.
“I’m saying we’re the same, so you can drop the straight dude act around me.”
Kaelix blinks.
“If you’re wondering how I knew, like the thing you do with your voice? You fell out of it when I made you angry earlier. I mean, even before that I knew. There was that time–”
“Hold on a sec,” Kaelix protests quietly. “I think you’ve gotten the wrong impression, I– I’m notinto guys like that.”
Nervous laughter surges in his chest instinctually as he wills himself not to falter under the weight of Zeal’s penetrating glare, at least not outright. “I mean, fine, I’ll admit I do change my voice a little. You got me there. But it’s mostly so that people don’t misunderstand.”
Zeal’s eyes narrow, and Kaelix throws his hands up in surrender perhaps a little too quickly.
“Listen, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with being that way. I don’t have any issues with LGBTQIA+ people or anything — in fact, I completely support them! I’m just saying that’s not me. And rather than having to explain again and again, it’s easier to just–”
“Kaelix. That’s your name, right?” Zeal interrupts, and Kaelix freezes. Hearing his own name in that sultry, low tone sends chills down Kaelix’s spine.
“Kaelix Debonair, you are the first person I’ve ever heard use the entire damn acronym in real life. Now be for real.”
The walls that constitute Kaelix’s defenses are tumbling down unceremoniously. Until now, he hadn’t realized how fragile they’d been from the very beginning.
Kaelix swallows. “Okay, and? I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not that deep. I just really care about social issues and the like.”
“Riiiight,” Zeal deadpans. “Whatever you say, woke king.”
“You don’t believe me,” says Kaelix, pained, “I swear, my family’s really progressive, and–”
“No, I believe you. I do,” Zeal replies, climbing over the desk, and Kaelix swears there’s something in his countenance now that’s even more assertive than before, if that’s possible. “Which is why I think we should make out.”
“WHAT?!” Kaelix practically screeches, nearly stumbling in his effort to back away from Zeal, who is swiftly closing in on him now. “No, I’m fine, thank you! I’m fine, thank you very much!”
“Is it not a perfect opportunity to prove you’re straight, though? If you’re disgusted, just shove me away. Punch me. You might be scrawny, but I think you’re big enough to do a number on me if it’s something you truly hate.”
“But– But still,” Kaelix insists, albeit still making his way backwards in a halfhearted attempt to maintain some distance between Zeal and himself. “I wouldn’t want to say I got into a fight…”
“As long as you claim self-defense, it’ll be fine. I give you permission to go all out. I can tell the teacher I walked into a locker. Or that I tripped down the stairs.” And suddenly, Zeal is right there — one hand sitting on the slight curve of Kaelix’s waist as if it belonged there, the other hand cupped beneath his chin — breath palpable, warm, even against the heat of Kaelix’s reddened cheeks.
“A safe word,” Kaelix blurts out. “Or phrase, rather. ‘No more.’ If I say that, you have to stop immediately, the moment I tell you to do so.”
Zeal nods, cracking a stupidly handsome, lopsided smile, one that’s genuine this time. “Of course, darling.”
Kaelix rolls his eyes, swatting Zeal’s hand away from his waist lest it were to hover too close to his ass for comfort. “It’s just a kiss, all right? No going further than necessary,” he says firmly, desperately ignoring the rapid palpitations of his heart beating out of his chest. “Nothing… weird, okay? And lay off the deep voice and the pet names, God, it’s not like we’re dating.”
“As you wish,” Zeal murmurs, his tone no less sultry than before, and his lips crash onto Kaelix’s before Kaelix can object.
In the first ten seconds, Kaelix forgets to breathe.
It starts slow. Chaste. Their mouths pressed together, closed, unmoving, unyielding — a sign from Zeal perhaps that he won’t push, a real opportunity for Kaelix to back away should he make that choice. But then Kaelix gasps into the kiss having remembered to catch his breath. His lips part against Zeal’s: a high-pitched, inadvertently lewd sound escaping him alongside the rush of air that enters his lungs.
Naturally, Zeal takes it as an invitation. He responds almost instantly by deepening the kiss, tongue prodding into the gap between Kaelix’s teeth, ever gentle yet insistent. Far, far more gentle than Kaelix had anticipated, considering the way Zeal had acted prior. Maybe he’s all talk, Kaelix thinks, realizing with dismay that it means Zeal has claimed at least a little of his heart, ashamed at how quickly, how easily it had happened. Yet the ecstasy of it all makes it impossible to think. At present, he doesn’t even wantto think. It feels good. It feels right.
Then Zeal flinches and jerks away.
Kaelix wipes his mouth clean of the residual saliva that had formed from the messy kiss. His brow creases in frustration as he squints to discern Zeal’s expression — his glasses had been removed somewhere along the way, though he’s too dazed to recall where he’d put them. All he knows now is that the space between his lips feels empty.
“It’s already over…? Why’d we stop?” he wonders aloud, still fully enamored in the bliss from moments before. He slowly draws a hand up to his face, unconsciously running a finger over the surface of his chapped and swollen lips.
Zeal laughs sheepishly, breathless, seemingly a little flustered. “Kaelix, I don’t know how to tell you this… but you’re hard.”
Kaelix glances down at his pants and shrieks.