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It started with a secret.
Actually, two secrets, and both of them were equally awkward.
Gwen Blake was absolutely not supposed to think Robin Arellano was cute. He was Finney’s best friend, for one, and he was… Robin. Loud, confident, impossible to read, and with that stupid grin that made her feel like her face might catch on fire every time he looked her way.
And yet, there she was, sitting at the kitchen table pretending to do homework while sneaking glances at the door- waiting for him to show up. Because Robin always showed up.
Sure enough, the door knocked twice, a familiar rhythm, and Finney let him in. Gwen instantly sat straighter, flipping her hair in the least natural way possible.
“Hey,” Robin greeted, tossing his backpack onto the couch.
“Hey,” she said back, trying to sound normal. She did not sound normal.
Robin raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Finney glanced between them, his curls bouncing as he frowned. He didn’t need to be a detective to know something was weird. Robin didn’t either.
That was the thing about them, Robin and Finney noticed everything.
⸻
Later that week, another kind of weird started brewing across town. Ernesto Arellano, Robin’s younger brother, had been assigned a school project with Gwen. They weren’t close, just quiet classmates who occasionally shared a pencil or muttered “same” when the teacher gave them too much homework.
But Gwen was cool. Like, really cool. She had that confident, sharp tone and messy braid and this way of talking that made Ernesto forget how to speak for a few seconds at a time.
He thought she was pretty. And funny. And maybe, kind of amazing.
But the universe, apparently, had a cruel sense of humor, because Gwen Blake just so happened to be Finney Blake’s little sister.
Finney Blake, the boy Ernesto had been hopelessly crushing on for months.
⸻
It was becoming increasingly clear that everyone had a problem.
Gwen’s problem: Robin was too charming for his own good.
Ernesto’s problem: Finney smiled too much for Ernesto’s sanity.
Finney and Robin’s problem: they both knew it.
And the worst part? They didn’t just know it- they talked about it.
One afternoon, Finney was sitting on the curb outside Robin’s house, kicking a pebble between his sneakers.
“Gwen’s been acting weird lately,” he muttered. “She gets all quiet when you’re around.”
Robin snorted. “You sure she’s not just sick of you?”
“No, dude, seriously.” Finney gave him a look. “She laughs at your dumb jokes now.”
Robin grinned, clearly entertained. “You’re telling me your sister thinks I’m funny?”
“I’m telling you my sister thinks you’re something.”
Robin leaned back on his hands, smirk tugging at his mouth. “Guess the Blake family has good taste.”
Finney rolled his eyes but smiled. “Don’t get cocky.”
“I’m not cocky,” Robin said, then paused. “Okay, maybe a little.”
They both laughed, but there was this brief, weird pause afterward, like a little silence that carried too much meaning. Robin’s grin softened. Finney’s eyes lingered too long. Neither said a word about it.
⸻
Meanwhile, Ernesto was having his own crisis.
He sat at the library table pretending to work on history notes while Gwen scribbled beside him.
She was talking about the project- something about the American Revolution- but he could barely focus. Her voice was nice. Her laugh even nicer.
“So,” she said after a while, tapping her pencil. “We should probably finish this at your house tomorrow, right?”
Ernesto blinked. “M-my house?”
“Yeah,” Gwen said casually. “You’ve got the printer, right?”
“Uh… yeah.”
He was doomed. Absolutely doomed.
Because Gwen Blake was coming to his house.
⸻
The next afternoon, Gwen stood outside the Arellanos’ front door, backpack slung over her shoulder, snow melting in her hair. Ernesto opened it, clearly flustered, and let her in.
She smiled at him, bright, easy, and he forgot what breathing was.
“Where’s Robin?” she asked, looking around.
“Out,” Ernesto said. “Said he and Finney were hanging out by the old baseball field.”
“Oh.” She looked mildly disappointed, and Ernesto noticed.
He couldn’t help but ask, “You… like my brother or something?”
Her cheeks flushed instantly. “What? No. Ew. Why would you-“
“Because you totally do,” Ernesto teased, a rare spark of boldness creeping in.
She gasped, ready to deny it, when she realized something. “Wait. You’ve been weird about Finney.”
He froze.
They stared at each other. The realization hit like a thunderclap.
“Oh my god,” Gwen said slowly, pointing at him. “You like my brother.”
“And you like mine!” Ernesto fired back.
They both groaned, collapsing onto the couch in mutual embarrassment.
“This is a disaster,” Gwen said.
“The worst,” Ernesto agreed.
⸻
A few minutes later, they were walking to Ernesto’s room when Gwen stopped by the window.
“Wait. Is that-“
She pushed the curtain aside. Ernesto followed her gaze.
Down the street, by the edge of the snowy baseball field, two figures stood close, too close. Robin’s long hair fell into his face as he leaned forward, and Finney’s small curls brushed against his chest.
Then they kissed. Soft, quick, but undeniably real.
Gwen’s jaw dropped. Ernesto made a strangled noise that could only be described as half shock, half admiration.
“Oh my god,” Gwen whispered. “They’re-“
“-kissing,” Ernesto finished, voice cracking.
They both stared for another few seconds before Gwen stumbled back, covering her mouth.
“I knew it! I knew something was going on!” she whispered, sounding half horrified, half thrilled.
Ernesto just stood there, face red. “That’s… my brother.”
“And that’s my brother!” Gwen said, equally mortified.
They looked at each other, and suddenly both burst into laughter.
Because honestly? What else could they do?
The whole thing was ridiculous. They’d been pining after boys who were also pining, but for each other.
Gwen wiped her eyes, still laughing. “Guess our taste runs in the family.”
Ernesto chuckled, shaking his head. “We really need better taste.”
“Speak for yourself,” Gwen said, grinning. “I think Finney’s adorable.”
“Yeah?” Ernesto smirked. “Well, I think Robin’s cool.”
They both paused, realizing they’d just complimented the other’s crush’s brother.
Then they laughed again.
⸻
By the time they finished their project, both had sworn to keep the secret, at least until Robin and Finney were ready to say something.
Of course, that didn’t stop Gwen from teasing Finney later.
“So, the baseball field, huh?” she said innocently while drying dishes that night.
Finney froze mid-motion. “What?”
“Nothing,” she said with a smile that was way too innocent.
And across town, Ernesto gave Robin the exact same smirk.
“Baseball field?” he said casually.
Robin’s face went red. “How do you-“
“Just saying,” Ernesto said, snickering. “Nice form.”
Robin threw a pillow at him.
⸻
If anyone had told Gwen Blake a few weeks ago that she’d be mutually crushing on Ernesto Arellano, Robin’s quiet, kind, annoyingly blushy little brother, she would’ve laughed them out of the room.
And yet… here she was.
It started small. They kept working together on projects after the first one, even though they didn’t technically have to. Gwen told herself it was because Ernesto had a printer and good snacks. Ernesto told himself it was because Gwen was good at history.
Both were lying.
The truth was, they liked each other’s company. Gwen liked the way Ernesto listened, really listened, when she talked. Ernesto liked the way she’d grin at him when she made a joke, like she was letting him in on a secret no one else got.
But neither said a word about it. Because after all, their brothers were Finney and Robin.
And those two couldn’t keep their mouths shut.
Robin was the first to notice.
He was lounging on the Blakes’ couch one afternoon, tossing a baseball up and down while Finney sat beside him reading. Gwen walked through the room, humming, wearing Ernesto’s hoodie, oversized, gray, clearly borrowed.
Robin smirked. “That’s Ernesto’s sweatshirt.”
Finney looked up. “How do you even know that?”
“I bought it with him last year,” Robin said. Then, squinting, “Wait. Why’s your sister wearing it?”
They locked eyes, then began to laugh.
⸻
A few days later, Robin came up with the worst idea of all time.
“Let’s set them up,” he whispered during lunch.
Finney blinked. “That’s literally the opposite of minding our business.”
“Come on,” Robin said, leaning close. “They like each other. It’s obvious.”
Finney sighed, but he couldn’t deny it. Ernesto and Gwen had been acting different, glancing at each other too long, texting late, walking home together.
“Fine,” he said reluctantly. “But if this goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”
“Please,” Robin grinned. “When have my plans ever gone wrong?”
Finney gave him a look so deadpan that Robin immediately laughed.
By Friday, the plan was set.
They convinced Gwen and Ernesto to come to the park “for a group hangout.” But when Gwen showed up, only Ernesto was there, sitting at a picnic table, holding two sodas, looking just as confused as she did.
“Where are Finney and Robin?” she asked.
“They said they’d be here,” Ernesto said, glancing around.
They waited. Five minutes passed. Then ten.
Finally, Gwen’s phone buzzed with a text from Finney:
Finney: sorry can’t make it :)
Robin: me neither :)
Finney: good luck ;)
Gwen groaned. “Oh, they did not just do this.”
Ernesto looked at her, cheeks pink. “They totally did, didn’t they?”
“Yeah,” she said, half-smiling despite herself. “They so did.”
The air between them grew warm, soft with laughter and nerves. Gwen sat beside him, brushing snow off the bench.
“Well,” she said, “since we’re already here…”
Ernesto smiled shyly. “Guess we might as well hang out.”
It wasn’t awkward for long. They talked. A lot. About school, about music, about their ridiculous brothers. Gwen teased him about still blushing when she looked at him; Ernesto teased her about pretending not to care.
By the time Robin and Finney finally appeared (pretending they’d “just arrived”), Gwen and Ernesto were sharing earbuds, laughing at something only they seemed to understand.
Robin nudged Finney, whispering, “You see that?”
Finney grinned. “For once, your plan didn’t completely suck.”
Robin smiled back, proud, until Gwen spotted him and yelled across the park, “You’re dead!”
______
Robin’s room was quiet except for the faint sound of rain tapping against the window.
Finney sat cross-legged on the floor, notebook open, pencil in hand, determined to make Robin actually learn something this time.
“So,” Finney said, tapping the page. “If three-fourths equals x over twelve, you multiply both sides by-“
Robin wasn’t listening. Not even close.
His chin was propped on his palm, eyes fixed on Finney’s face like the boy was something out of a dream. The curls falling over Finney’s forehead caught the lamplight; he had that little furrow between his brows he always got when he was concentrating too hard.
“-multiply both sides by twelve,” Finney finished, looking up expectantly. “Right?”
Robin blinked. “Huh?”
Finney groaned. “You didn’t hear any of that, did you?”
Robin grinned, unashamed. “Nope.”
“You’re hopeless,” Finney muttered, turning back to the notebook. “You’re gonna fail this test.”
Robin leaned forward until their knees almost touched. “You really think I care about math right now?”
“Yeah, because I’m the one tutoring you-“
He didn’t get to finish. Robin reached out, gently taking Finney’s pencil from his hand and setting it aside.
“Hey,” he said quietly, voice softer than usual.
Finney looked up. His heart tripped over itself when he saw the look in Robin’s eyes, not teasing, not smug, just… open. Warm.
“You’re seriously not paying attention,” Finney said weakly, but his voice wavered.
“I am,” Robin said. “Just not to the math.”
He hesitated for half a second, just long enough for Finney to blush and mumble, “You’re ridiculous.”
And then Robin kissed him.
It was gentle at first, like he was asking if it was okay. Finney’s fingers twitched before he leaned in, letting his eyes flutter shut, the pencil rolling forgotten to the floor.
The kiss deepened slowly, awkward and sweet all at once, both of them smiling against each other halfway through. When they finally broke apart, Robin rested his forehead against Finney’s, their breaths mixing in the quiet.
“Still think I’m ridiculous?” he whispered.
Finney laughed softly. “Yeah. Completely.”
Robin grinned. “Guess I can live with that.”
They stayed like that for a while, tangled in the warmth of the small room, math book still open but long forgotten. Finney leaned against Robin’s shoulder, the tension in him melting away as Robin’s arm slipped around his waist.
For once, Robin wasn’t talking or joking or pretending to be fearless. He just sat there with Finney tucked against him, tracing lazy circles on his sleeve with his thumb.
“You’re warm,” Finney mumbled sleepily.
Robin smiled into his hair. “You’re tiny.”
“Shut up.”
Robin chuckled, pressing a light kiss to the top of Finney’s head. “I like tiny.”
Finney made a quiet, half-embarrassed sound that turned into a laugh, and Robin laughed too, that low, easy laugh that always made Finney feel like everything would be fine.
Outside, the rain kept falling. Inside, their world felt small and safe, just the two of them, pressed close, sharing quiet smiles that said more than either could put into words.
Robin rested his chin lightly on Finney’s curls. “So… tutoring again tomorrow?”
Finney tilted his head up, eyes soft. “If you actually plan to study this time.”
Robin smirked. “No promises.”
Finney rolled his eyes, but when Robin leaned down and kissed him again, slow and certain, he didn’t complain.