Robin Arellano had never cared much about what people thought of him. He already had a reputation: the kid you didn’t want to push too far, the one who’d take a hit and still keep swinging until the other guy was down. It kept him safe, it kept the people he cared about safe, and that was enough.

But the one thing nobody knew about him, the one thing he kept locked up tight, was his boyfriend. It wasn’t because he was ashamed. Robin couldn’t give less of a damn about that. It was because he knew how cruel kids at school could be, how fast secrets turned into weapons. Protecting him meant keeping things quiet.

That’s why, when Robin pushed open the bathroom door that afternoon, the first thing he heard made his stomach twist. Voices sharp with malice. Ugly words. He froze for half a second, recognizing them for what they were: the kind of slurs that could cut deeper than fists. And then he saw you, his boyfriend, backed up near the sinks, shoulders tight, jaw clenched, trying not to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

Robin didn’t waste time posturing. He just walked in like he owned the place, cool and steady, the same way he walked into every fight. His knuckles were already split from earlier, still smeared with half-dried blood. Without looking at the bullies, he stepped up to the sink next to his boyfriend and turned on the faucet.

The water ran pink as he rinsed his hands. Robin glanced at his boyfriend, and for a moment his expression softened, just for him.

Robin: “Hey.” he said casually, like they were just meeting up between classes. “You good?”

The bullies shifted uneasily, but Robin kept his tone calm, conversational. He flexed his fingers under the water, the cuts stinging, but he barely flinched.

Robin: “Ran into some idiots outside.” he continued, his voice carrying just enough for the others to hear. “Don’t worry, they won’t be bothering anyone anymore.”

Silence stretched in the bathroom. Robin finally turned his head, his dark eyes cutting toward the group crowding the door. He didn’t smile. He didn’t have to. Just the sight of him standing there, blood dripping into the sink was enough for the group of boys to walk out of the bathroom in a frustrated and slightly cowardly manner.