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Steve wasn’t snooping.
That’s what he kept telling himself as he stood there with the lid of the box half open.
He wasn’t snooping.
He’d only come to return Jonathan’s camera.
That was it.
The box just… happened to be there.
Open.
On the bed.
And inside—
Photos.
Dozens of them.
Of him.
Steve laughing in the parking lot.
Steve asleep on the couch, mouth slightly open.
Steve staring out a window, sunlight carving his profile.
Steve quiet. Serious. Unguarded.
Steve didn’t know anyone looked at him like this.
His stomach dropped.
—What the hell…?
The door creaked.
Jonathan froze in the doorway.
His eyes went straight to the box.
Then to Steve.
All the color drained from his face.
—No… —he whispered.
Steve held up a photo with shaking fingers.
—What is this?
The silence was worse than any answer.
—Are you making fun of me? —Steve’s voice came out sharper than he meant— Is this what I am now? A project? A joke?
Jonathan flinched like he’d been hit.
—It’s not like that—
—Then explain it! —Steve snapped— Because it looks like you’ve been… collecting me.
The word hung in the air.
Ugly.
Jonathan swallowed hard.
—I’m not mocking you.
—Then why? —Steve laughed bitterly— A social experiment? “Observe the popular idiot in his natural habitat”?
Jonathan’s voice broke loud for the first time.
—Because you’re beautiful!
Silence.
The room stopped breathing.
Jonathan looked like he wanted to disappear.
Steve blinked.
—…what?
Jonathan’s hands trembled.
—I don’t mock you. I never would. I just… see you. That’s all. I see you when no one else does.
Something in Steve’s chest cracked open.
—That doesn’t make sense.
Jonathan stepped closer.
—When you smile, it’s different when it’s real. Smaller. Softer. When you’re tired you rub the back of your neck like the world lives there. And when you think… you bite your lip.
Steve’s hand flew to his mouth on instinct.
Jonathan let out a shaky laugh.
—That. Exactly that.
The air felt too thick.
Too heavy.
Steve dropped the photo.
—You can’t… look at me like that —he whispered.
Jonathan paled.
—I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d ever see them.
—That’s not it —Steve stepped forward— It’s just… no one looks at me like that.
The anger melted into something worse.
Vulnerability.
Raw.
Exposed.
—Why me? —Steve demanded, almost angry he needed the answer.
Jonathan looked at him like it was obvious.
—Because you’re you.
Steve let out a broken laugh.
—That explains nothing.
—It explains everything.
They stared at each other.
The tension crackled.
Steve felt like he might burst.
—Tell me you don’t feel anything —he whispered— Tell me and I’ll drop this.
Jonathan opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
That silence was the answer.
Steve closed the distance without thinking.
The kiss was messy.
Impulsive.
Teeth knocking, breath uneven, hands searching for balance more than control.
But it was real.
Burning.
Necessary.
Jonathan made a broken sound into his mouth.
Steve pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against his.
—Tell me that was a mistake.
Jonathan shook his head, breathing against his lips.
—I can’t.
Steve smiled, shaking.
—Good.
And kissed him again.