The thing about Lukas was that most people got him wrong.

They saw the sharp edges first—the blunt tone, the way his responses came quick and sometimes a little too defensive, like he was already bracing for something before it even happened. They saw the head counselor of the Hermes cabin, the guy who kept everything running, who didn’t have time for nonsense, who could shut down an argument with one look.

What they didn’t see—what almost no one saw—was what he was like when he let himself be soft.

Grey did.

Not all at once. Not in some obvious, life-changing moment. It happened slowly, in pieces.

It started with quiet conversations that somehow lasted longer than either of them meant them to. Lukas would show up beside him without much warning—on the edge of the training grounds, outside the cabins late at night, sometimes just… there. At first, it was short. A few words. Observations more than conversations.

“You don’t like it when it gets loud.”

“You notice everything.”

“You disappear when people start expecting too much from you.”

Grey never knew how Lukas knew those things. He just… did.

And for someone who didn’t like being seen, Grey found that he didn’t mind when it was Lukas.

Weeks turned into months like that.

Somewhere along the way, Lukas stopped sounding sharp when he spoke to him. The defensiveness didn’t disappear—it just… shifted. Like it wasn’t aimed at Grey, but at everything around him instead.

And sometimes—rare, fleeting moments—Grey caught something softer.

A hand brushing his shoulder when Lukas passed by. A quiet, “You good?” when Grey went too still. Once, late at night, Lukas had stood just a little too close behind him, like he was about to reach out—before stopping himself.

They never talked about it.

But they both knew.

“Bonfire’s Friday.”

Grey glanced up from where he was sitting, sketchbook resting against his knees. Lukas stood a few feet away, hands shoved into his pockets, posture casual in a way that felt… intentional.

“Yeah,” Grey said. “I know.”

A pause.

Then, more direct—because that was Lukas.

“Come with me.”

Grey blinked. “What?”

Lukas met his eyes, steady. “To the bonfire. With me.”

Not as friends. Not if you want to. Just—come with me.

Grey’s heart did that thing again, fast and uneven. “…Okay.”

Lukas nodded once, like that settled it. “Good.”

Friday night came with firelight and noise and too many people packed too close together.

Grey stuck near the edges, like always.

But Lukas found him anyway.

“Hey.”

Grey turned, and there he was—hoodie sleeves pushed up, hair slightly out of place, eyes already on him like he’d been looking for him specifically.

“You came,” Grey said, softer than he meant to.

Lukas frowned slightly. “I said I would.”

They stood side by side at first, watching the flames flicker and twist into the night sky. Campers laughed around them, music carrying through the air, but it all felt… distant.

After a while, Lukas shifted closer—not enough to draw attention, just enough that their shoulders brushed. Then stayed.

Grey didn’t move away.

Lukas exhaled quietly.

“Grey.”

The way he said it—firm, grounded—made Grey look up immediately.

Lukas was already looking at him.

“I don’t want to keep pretending this is nothing,” Lukas said, blunt as ever—but softer underneath it, something real breaking through. “I like you. You know that.”

Grey’s breath caught. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Lukas nodded once, like he needed that confirmed. Then, more quietly, “Because I don’t… do this halfway.”

Grey felt his chest tighten—not in a bad way. In a way that felt important.

Lukas stepped just a little closer.

“Do you want to be boyfriends?”

Grey’s answer came easier than anything else had.

“…Yeah. I do.”

“Okay,” Lukas said softly.

And then, without overthinking it this time, he moved behind Grey—arms coming around him, steady and sure, pulling him back against his chest.

It wasn’t hesitant.

It wasn’t careful.

It was certain.

Lukas rested his head lightly against Grey’s shoulder, breath warm, presence grounding.