Kian didn't sleep well that night. The image of Leo in his shirt, and the familiar gesture of his finger, replayed in his mind like a glitch in an operating system that he couldn't shut down. There was a puzzle in his house, and his logical mind refused to leave it unsolved.
The next day, Kian waited until he heard Leo leave the apartment, saying he was heading to the university for a few hours. This was his chance.
He felt a pang of guilt and shame as he walked toward Leo's room, but his curiosity was stronger. He had made a strict rule: "My office is off-limits." But he hadn't said anything about Leo's room. It was a loophole he used to justify his snooping.
He opened the door slowly. It was his first time inside. Immediately, the scent of the room hit his senses. It wasn't a bad smell; it was just... the smell of Leo. A mix of vanilla-scented soap, the faint smell of art supplies, and a warm, slightly sweet personal scent. It was deeply intimate, and Kian felt like an intruder, an invader of a sacred space.
The room was an artistic chaos. Posters on the walls, fairy lights wrapped around the headboard, and art books stacked on the floor. On his unmade bed, the bear "Barnaby" sat propped against the pillows, like the guardian of the place.
Kian approached Leo's desk. There were sketches scattered about, mostly of faces and fictional character designs. Then he saw something next to the computer. An old sketchbook, its black cover slightly worn at the edges. It looked much older than the rest of his things.
His hesitant hand reached out and picked it up. His heart was beating fast. He opened it.
The first pages were filled with childish drawings. Flowers, animals, superheroes. Then, around the middle of the book, he stopped on a particular page.
It was a drawing of two boys. One had dark hair and a clear frown on his face. The other stood next to him, smiling a wide grin, his own hair shorter and messier. The details weren't clear, but the essence was there. Underneath the drawing, in messy, childish handwriting, were the words: "K + L = Friends Forever."
K + L.
Kian and Leo.
Kian felt as if the floor had been pulled out from under him. It wasn't a coincidence. The finger gesture, knowing how he liked his coffee, and now this. This beautiful, provocative stranger living in his house, who was awakening desires in him he never knew existed, was him. Leo. His childhood friend. The boy he had rejected years ago.
He shut the sketchbook quickly, his hands trembling. How? And why? Why hadn't he said anything? Was this all some kind of revenge plot?
A storm of emotions hit him all at once: shock, anger at the deception, confusion… and a strange sense of relief, as if a missing puzzle piece had finally clicked into place. And on top of it all, the lust he felt for him was now even more terrifying. It was no longer directed at a stranger, but at someone he knew, someone with whom he had a history.
As he stood there, frozen, holding the proof in his hand, he heard the sound of the apartment's front door opening.
"I'm back!" Leo's cheerful voice called out from the entrance. "I forgot one of my books!"
The blood turned to ice in Kian's veins. He was trapped. He was in Leo's room, holding his secret sketchbook, and Leo was about to walk in at any second. There was nowhere to hide. There was no escape.