Static

~I'm no good without you~

I didn't say anything. Not because I didn't know how I felt, but because I did.

And that scared me more than I thought it would.

"You want to go public," I said. It wasn't a question. More like a confirmation, me putting it into the air so I could hear it out loud.

Robin shrugged again, a little more unsure this time. "Only if you do."

I looked down at the comic between us. I thought about what that meant. Public. Not just a quiet thing between two boys behind closed doors. But something seen. Something known. Something that could be... judged.

I thought about Bruce. About the way he looked at me after the hallway incident, like I was made of glass. I thought about the bruises. The silences. The way people could be cruel without ever raising a hand. And how cruel they were when they did...

But then I looked at Robin. Really looked.

And none of that mattered.

Because Robin didn't look at me like I was glass. He looked at me like I was real. Like I was his.

Not a secret. Not a burden. Just... me.

I shifted closer to him, slow and quiet. Rested my forehead against his shoulder. I stayed like that for a second, letting myself breathe him in, cinnamon and smoke and something warm I couldn't name.

"I'd say yes," I murmured.

Robin turned slightly, voice softer than I'd ever heard it. "Yeah?"

I nodded. "Not to, like, shouting it from rooftops or writing it on the lockers, but... if someone asked? I'd say yes."

He exhaled. A breath I didn't even know he'd been holding.

His fingers brushed mine. Tentative. Like he was waiting for me to pull away.

I didn't.

He laced them through mine slowly.

"No rush," he said. "We don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

I leaned into his side just a little more. "I'm ready."

Robin smiled. Not wide. Not cocky. Just soft and steady. Like he'd been waiting for this moment and wasn't going to break it by pushing too hard.

"Good."

We stayed like that, quiet and warm, until the tape clicked off and the blues faded into the hush of the room. The curtains danced again in the breeze, brushing against the window frame like a whisper.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I wasn't hiding anymore.

ROBIN'S POV

Finney hadn't said much since he got here, but that wasn't new.

What was new was the weight behind his quiet today. Not just the usual Finney-thinks-too-much quiet, but the kind where his shoulders stayed tense even when he was trying to look relaxed. The kind where his fingers fiddled with the edge of the comic like he wasn't reading a single word. Like his thoughts were somewhere else, and he hadn't figured out how to drag them back down yet.

The cassette player in the corner hummed some scratchy old blues, stuff my dad used liked, stuff I didn't even realize I missed until I heard it playing sometimes when I needed the room to feel like something more than just four walls.

The incense was still burning slow on the windowsill. Smelled like cinnamon and cigarettes. I always joked it wasn't for anything weird, but maybe it was. Maybe it was my way of trying to make the air softer. Calmer. Like it could hold Finney without breaking him.

He was sitting cross-legged at the edge of my bed, hair damp, eyes distant.

I was stretched out beside him, one hand behind my head, the other resting near his leg. Close enough to touch, but I hadn't yet.

It wasn't like last week. That kiss had happened fast, messy, sharp, a thing that had been building and burst out of us like fire. But this? This felt like water. Slow and steady and waiting for the right moment to ripple.

"You're quiet," I said.

Finney raised an eyebrow. "I'm always quiet."

"Yeah, but this is different." I leaned on my elbow, watching him. "You're thinking too loud. Dangerous levels."

He shrugged, let the comic fall shut between us. "Just tired."

I knew better. But I didn't push.

I sat up instead, crossed my legs to match his, heart knocking hard against my ribs. I wasn't even sure when I decided to say it. Maybe I'd been carrying it for days. Maybe it just found its way out because it had to.

"If someone asked if we were, you know... a thing," I said, voice lower than I meant. "Would you say yes?"

He blinked.

I watched him carefully, read the way his posture shifted. Not away. Just uncertain.

"I mean, I've been thinking about it. What it'd feel like if we didn't have to keep it quiet. If I could..." I hesitated. "Hold your hand in the hallway. Or stop pretending I don't get nervous when you look at me too long."

Finney looked down at the comic again, then at the space between us. And I swear, time stopped for a second.

But then, finally, finally, he leaned in. Not a lot. Just enough to rest his forehead against my shoulder.

"I'd say yes," he murmured.

My chest filled like I'd been holding my breath for a week.

"Yeah?" I asked, barely louder than him.

He nodded. "Not shouting it from rooftops or anything, but... yeah. If someone asked, I'd say yes."

I didn't answer with words.

Instead, I leaned in.

Not like the last time, not quick or rough or breathless.

This time I kissed him slow.

Soft.

The kind of kiss you give when there's no one to impress. No rush to feel something louder. Just the quiet ache of knowing.

His lips met mine, warm and still slightly chapped from the wind. He didn't pull away. Didn't flinch.

When I broke the kiss, I pressed my forehead to his for a second, breathing him in.

Then I lay back on the bed and tugged him down with me.

He came easily, curling into my side like it was the most natural thing in the world. His head rested against my chest. I slid my arm around his back and tangled our legs together, holding him there, not like he might disappear, but like he belonged.

And I didn't say anything.

Didn't need to.

Because he was here.

Because we were here.

Because we didn't need to be a secret anymore, not to ourselves.

And in that quiet, under the hum of the blues and the breeze through the window, I let my eyes close.

And I just held him. My hands played with his curls as he leaned in closer, his ear pressed to my chest...

Now I was praying my heart wasn't quick- cause they way he got me feeling should be illegal...

Word count: 1668