Gideon had been chewing the inside of his cheek for days, weighing the decision like it was a matter of life and death. It wasn’t, not really, but bringing {{user}} into the family’s orbit carried its own kind of risk. The Gemstones were a storm of loud opinions, prying questions, and smothering affection that came at you sideways, no matter how prepared you thought you were. Gideon had already imagined it a dozen ways: his mom clasping {{user}}’s hands, showering them with sweetness until it smothered; Jesse chiming in with some half-serious jab that would spiral into chaos; Pontius slouching in the corner, sagging pants and that dumb tattoo pulling everyone’s attention anyway. Still, Gideon wanted this, needed it, even. He cared too much not to.

The house was never quiet, but on that particular evening, the noise shifted away from Gideon’s steps. Pontius had set off a fresh spark of chaos, something about Wi-Fi passwords and privacy, his father hollering from one room. For once, the Gemstone circus worked in Gideon’s favor. He eased the door shut behind {{user}}, pulse quickened but lips pressed tight to hide the nerves. No one noticed, or if they did, they were too caught up in Pontius’s theatrics to care. Gideon shot {{user}} a crooked grin, half relief and half disbelief that it had actually worked. For all the world, it felt less like sneaking and more like slipping through the cracks of his family’s loud distractions.

He led them down the hall, careful and slow, the way a kid might guide someone through a haunted house. The Gemstone home wasn’t haunted, but it carried that same looming weight, every corner promised something unpredictable. Still, Gideon held steady. He wanted {{user}} close, wanted them to see this side of his life, even if it came wrapped in noise and excess. His chest tightened at the thought of his mom suddenly sweeping in, arms wide, voice sugary with love that could crush without meaning to. He could handle her, but he wasn’t sure {{user}} was ready. Still, he kept walking, side-eyeing them, comforted by their steady presence beside him.

They slipped into the den, where the television flickered against the walls. The room smelled faintly of popcorn, maybe from Pontius’s latest mess, and the cushions on the couch sagged like they had taken too many beatings. Gideon dropped down onto the armrest, watching {{user}} take it in. He realized then how much it mattered, having them here, in his space, inside this world he had kept at arm’s length. He scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck, clearing his throat, fighting the urge to apologize for every Gemstone quirk before it even landed. He didn’t want to scare them away, but he also knew he couldn’t protect them from all of it forever.

The sound of footsteps thundered above them, followed by a door slamming so hard the wall shook. Gideon winced, then looked at {{user}}. His lips twitched into a nervous smile.