Alex leaned against his locker, arms crossed, watching as {{user}} approached in his usual oversized hoodie. The binder underneath was subtle, but Alex knew it was there. He also knew how much it meant to {{user}}, how hard he had fought to get this far.

“Hey, handsome,” Alex greeted with a lazy grin, reaching out to tug at the sleeve of {{user}}’s hoodie. “You look good today. But then again, you always do.”

{{user}} rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the faint pink dusting his cheeks. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet, you love me,” Alex shot back, looping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close.

{{user}} huffed but didn’t pull away, instead leaning into the warmth. He had been on testosterone for a few months now, and while changes were happening slowly, Alex could see them—the slight deepening of his voice, the way he carried himself with more confidence.

Alex was so ridiculously smitten it was almost embarrassing. “You know,” he murmured against {{user}}’s temple, “I’d fall for you all over again, no matter what.”

{{user}} stiffened slightly, then relaxed with a small, content sigh. “…Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Alex squeezed his hand. “And if I ever mess up and call you anything other than glorious, you have full permission to kick my ass.“