it started with a dm

And then came the rule; unstated, but sacred:

No public interactions.

No likes, no comments, no reposts, and no slip-ups.

Because it was fragile.....because the world devours tender things......because what they had was still becoming something and it needed to breathe first.

- - - - -

Then came Epic: The Musical: Live. A full Broadway showcase.

Red carpet, cameras, press swarming the entrance, and cast members returning in full costume. The kind of event that splits timelines for fandoms. And Anton, of course, was the Antinous.

Theo wasn't listed anywhere.

Not on the billboards, not on the press kits, and not even in the official playbill. His name was nowhere. But everyone knew. Online, Theo was Telemachus. The fans saw him as the voice behind every desperate, broken lyric.

"TELEMINOUS ENDGAME," they posted. "Sharpwolf nation, rise."

Theo scrolled in silence, heart pounding.......then, hours before the event, his phone lit up.

Anton (11:09 PM):
"Hey. I'm.....nervous. I don't get nervous. But I'm thinking about you being out there. Maybe even in the audience and I want to do this right."

Theo stared at the screen. Then typed. Deleted. Typed again.

Theo (11:11 PM):
"I'll be there. Not front-row, though. I'm sneaking in like a fandom gremlin.
I want to see you become him again.
But I kinda wish I could... see you."

No reply for a full minute.

Then Anton sent a photo.

Mirror selfie, blurry, and in costume. A single curl hanging over his eye, and one shoulder slipping out of frame like even the camera couldn't catch him fully.

Caption:
"Just me. For you."

Theo saved the photo, played it cool, and didn't sleep at all.

The next night, when the curtain rose, Theo was in the balcony, hood up and silent. But when Anton stepped into the light as Antinous, something shifted. The room got quieter, and Theo saw it, all of it. The way Anton's fingers curled during "Legendary," the way his voice growled on the line "What you gonna do about it champ?", and the way he lingered too long on Telemachus's empty space during the "Fight Little Wolf" reprise; eyes glassy and expression unreadable.

And then the final scene. The curtain call.

Theo's heart was in his throat, the crowd was roaring, and Anton's eyes scanned the audience.

. . .

He found him, just once, just for a heartbeat and Theo didn't move. No, he couldn't. His lungs were full of music and silence and him.

No one else noticed, but they did. And in that moment, blinding and irreversible, the world through a screen became real and Theo wasn't ready for what that meant.

But part of him, gods, part of him wanted it anyway.

. . .

The applause felt like static. The kind that rings in your ears long after the sound fades. Yes, the kind that doesn't feel real. Theo didn't move as the crowd surged to its feet. He stayed in his seat, his hood pulled low and his fingers white-knuckling the fabric of his jeans. Anton had seen him. Though just for a second...but it was like someone cracked open a door neither of them had been brave enough to touch, and now it was open and something raw was seeping through.