For as long as Riley Stavros could remember, he thought hiding was the only way to survive.

He dated girls. Played tough. Made the jokes before anyone else could. He benched every part of himself that didn’t scream “masculine.” It was exhausting — waking up every day and slipping into a version of himself that never quite fit right. Like wearing shoulder pads too tight over skin too soft.

Then came Elliot.

He wasn’t loud. He wasn’t trying to prove anything. Elliot moved through the world like it couldn’t touch him — delicate, graceful, porcelain on the outside, but steel underneath. He didn’t wear his softness like a weakness. He wore it like truth.

Riley noticed him before he let himself notice him.

The expressive eyes that seemed to know things. The sleepy, sweet smiles. The way his curls fell into his face, and how he always tried (and failed) to brush them away. Elliot wasn’t like anyone Riley had ever met — gentle, thoughtful, kind, and so alive in a way Riley didn’t know how to be.

They shared a class. Then a project. Then conversations that somehow peeled Riley open without even trying.

And Elliot never asked him to come out. Never rushed him. Never flinched when Riley was scared.

But he was there.

Quietly. Patiently. Loyally.

Until one day, in the back stairwell near the gym, Riley looked at him — really looked — and realized he didn’t want to hide anymore.

Not from Elliot. Not from himself.

“I’m tired of pretending,” Riley whispered, hands shaking.

Elliot stepped closer, calm and sure. “Then don’t pretend with me.”

And when Riley kissed him — slow, unsure, terrified — Elliot kissed him back like he’d been waiting his whole life.