Chapter Text
“Let’s see: swimsuit, toothbrush, pajamas, phone charger, sunscreen… and my damn dignity. Although I lost that the moment I agreed to this shitty plan.”
A heavy sigh, the kind that carries the weight of a lifetime of suffering, echoed off the walls of the room. Mathias Cronqvist held a mental list as he checked, for the fourth—or maybe fifth—time, the inside of his backpack. He wasn’t one to leave things to chance; chance was for stupid people who ended up with third-degree burns for forgetting sunscreen. And Mathias hated the sun. He hated the heat. And, above all, he hated the damn idea of sweating like a pig under the scorching summer sky.
For the occasion, he'd opted for an outfit of "aesthetic survival": a loose olive-green shirt, white capri pants that fell below his knees, and soft-soled black shoes. At the bottom of his backpack, squashed by his impeccable discipline, lay a pair of flip-flops. Just thinking about the disgusting sensation of sand getting into places where the sun doesn't shine made his eye twitch.
He glanced at himself in the mirror for a second. His jet-black hair, normally untamable, was tied back in a high ponytail, though several stray strands insisted on framing his face, diminishing some of that "honor student who silently judges you" severity that so characterized him.
"One week," he muttered to himself, zipping his backpack shut with a burst of violence. "One whole damn week of seeing these idiots' pores."
The trip hadn't been their idea, not by a long shot. It had been a disgusting ambush orchestrated by Joachim and Sara, who had proclaimed themselves the absolute dictators of the vacation. Elisabetha, with that authoritarian voice that no one in their right mind could ignore, sealed the group's tragic fate by recommending a five-star hotel in the neighboring city. That meant at least a three-hour drive. A veritable odyssey of torture for his backside and his brain.
The plan was simple and terrifying: sun, beach, pools, nightclubs, and an industrial quantity of cheap alcohol that, according to his friends, was "strictly necessary to purge the hell of the first semester."
For any senior, the pressure of college applications and school projects, not to mention homework and exams, was a noose around their neck. For Mathias, it was just another Tuesday. His grades were so perfect they were almost insulting, and he had already turned down three offers from prestigious schools with a calmness that drove his father crazy. Why go somewhere else at this point? Why start over when he already ruled this little kingdom of lunatics?
Lies. That was the intellectual excuse he swallowed himself.
The truth was that Mathias Cronqvist, the high school prodigy, the boy with unwavering logic, was a complete idiot because of a pair of blond hair. His brain completely melted down whenever he was near him.
"I still don't understand why I agreed to this nonsense…" he whispered, even though the answer screamed in his face from his own chest, making his damn heart race.
He hated the heat, but he loved watching a certain person in the sunlight. He hated noise, but he tolerated the fucking chaos that was his friends just to avoid being left out of that someone's orbit. He felt like a faulty satellite pulled by a gravity he couldn't calculate, dragged down by the hormones of his age and his weakness.
When his parents found out that the "bookish hermit" was leaving his cave to go to the beach, they practically called an exorcist. But as soon as they heard who he was going with, they relaxed and simply gave him their usual advice: "Don't drink yourself into oblivion, don't do anything stupid, and keep a cool head."
"Sure, easy peasy," he thought bitterly. As if keeping a cool head were a real option with hormones raging and his friends behaving like animals in heat twenty-four hours a day.
Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang from downstairs, shattering his thoughts. Mathias heard his mother's murmur as she greeted him from the front door and immediately recognized the boisterous laughter and bright voice that broke the silence of the house.
It was like an electric shock straight to his nervous system. His shoulders relaxed instantly, and almost against his will, a small, lopsided smile appeared on his face.
“He’s here,” he whispered. And this time, the sigh that escaped his lips held absolutely no annoyance.
Mathias felt the air grow thick as he descended the stairs, almost unbreathable. It wasn't the stifling summer heat; it was the looming premonition that his precious self-control was about to go straight to hell. From the kitchen, he could hear a murmur of voices discussing everyday banalities, but his brain, completely single-minded, was only trying to tune into one specific frequency.
And then he saw him.
There he was, the absolute culprit behind all his sleepless nights, his alarming lack of concentration, and his decision to go to a shitty beach and sweat like crazy:
Leon Belmont.
Leon was a true disaster for anyone's mental health. Tall, athletic, barely a couple of centimeters shorter than him, but possessing such a ridiculous presence that it completely filled any room. He had that light golden-blond hair, with such a soft, perfectly messy curl, with that stupid "I just woke up looking this good, judge me if you can" style. And then there were those lips. Pink, slightly thick, damn tempting.
“God… I really want to try them…” Mathias thought, just before his rational side slapped him awake. He cleared his throat with a fake, slightly awkward cough, trying to hide the fact that he was drooling pathetically.
Leon’s outfit was simple but effective: a basic white T-shirt, an open red plaid shirt over it with the sleeves carelessly rolled up, and black Bermuda shorts that showed off his athletic legs. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, chatting with Mathias’s mother while sipping his lifelong sacred elixir through a straw: a large glass of chocolate milk. It was a damn tradition since they were two years old and their parents found them asleep cuddled up on a pile of Lego bricks. Basically, they were inseparable since they were in diapers.
“Mathias, is everything ready?” his mother asked when he saw him appear in the doorway.
He shook his head abruptly, forcibly emerging from his own trance. “Uh… yes. Yes, Mom. All set.”
Leon turned to face him and flashed a smile so bright it made Mathias's heart perform a treacherous parkour trick in the middle of his chest. "This damn guy in summer clothes should be illegal," he complained mentally. His imagination flew straight to the blond man wearing tight swim trunks on the beach, and he felt the temperature in the kitchen rise ten degrees in one fell swoop.
Belmont, meanwhile, had to avert his eyes to his drink to avoid the damn blush giving him away. "Calm down, idiot. Don't drool in front of his mom, have some dignity," he silently scolded himself.
"You took forever," Leon cleared his throat, forcing an annoyed tone that didn't quite work. "Are you packing clothes or writing your will in case you die of dehydration on the way?"
Mathias raised an eyebrow, immediately reverting to his mask of analytical coolness. "I'm seriously considering the latter."
"You're such a drama queen, aren't you?"
"Cautionate is the word you're looking for, Belmont."
Leon let out a short, vibrant laugh, one of those that seemed to rise from deep in his chest. It pissed the dark-haired man off how much he loved hearing that sound.
"Relax, my dear academic vampire," Leon mocked, his eyes sparkling. "I solemnly promise to prevent the sun from ruining your pale goth aesthetic and your reputation as the kind of guy who probably sleeps in a coffin."
Mathias's mother let out a hearty laugh from the sink. He, on the other hand, fixed his light gray eyes on him with an indignation that fooled no one. "Look, little lion..." he said slowly, thoroughly enjoying how Leon flinched slightly at the nickname that only he—and that idiot Joachim, much to Mathias's disgust—used to get under his skin. "I'm not giving you the answer you deserve only because my mother is here."
He approached him with a confident stride and ruffled his blond hair with a heavy hand, disheveling it even more.
"Hey! That nickname isn't even mine," Leon complained, though strangely he made no attempt to pull away from Mathias's fingers.
"Joachim gave it to you, didn't he?" Mathias guessed, narrowing his eyes.
"Well... yeah." Mathias quickly lowered his hand, grabbed Leon's cheek, and pulled it without the slightest mercy.
"Ow! Hey! Let go of me, you savage!"
"That idiot is a terrible influence on you," Mathias declared with protective severity, though inwardly, his deep jealousy festered.
"Mrs. Cronqvist, please help me! Your son is physically abusing me!" Leon shouted with the dramatic flair of a cheap soap opera.
"But you always come back for more, Leon," the woman replied without looking up, sporting a sly smile that clearly said: I know exactly what's going on here.
Leon was speechless for a full second, processing the impact and the absolute truth behind that comment. "Touché…" he murmured softly, a slip that granted Mathias an absolute internal victory.
"Besides, admit it," Mathias added, finally releasing his reddened cheek. "You like it."
"Pinching my face? What's wrong with you? Are you a masochist or something?"
"No. I mean, you like teasing me."
Leon stared at him for a moment, suspended in mid-air. Suddenly, his mocking smile completely changed to one much softer, more transparent, more genuine. "Yeah. A little."
Mathias rolled his eyes to the ceiling to hide the sudden heat rising in his own cheeks. "Idiot."
"Bitter."
"Stupid."
"Dreamy"
The silence that fell over the kitchen was almost deafening. Mathias remained completely petrified, static as a statue, while Leon turned a color so vivid it rivaled a ripe tomato.
"Crabby!" Belmont hastily corrected himself, his voice an octave higher and panic blazing in his eyes, though it was a little too late. "I meant grumpy, damn it!"
They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity of three awkward, intense seconds, until Mathias's mother had to intervene, clearing her throat to prevent the house's fuses from blowing.
"Well, you two idiots, you should leave now before the afternoon traffic gets worse," the woman interjected, breaking the tension with an amused smile. "I'm heading out too; I have a meeting with some old friends from university."
Leon took advantage of the moment to take a long sip of his chocolate milk, trying to catch his breath and regain his composure. "It seems like everyone was desperate for summer to arrive."
"Maybe," Mathias sighed, his pulse still racing.
At that moment, Leon's cell phone vibrated violently on the kitchen counter. "Oh, speaking of the devil… It's a message from Joachim. He says everyone's already gathered at the park and that if we're five minutes late, they'll abandon us without a second thought."
Mathias snorted disdainfully, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder. "Tell that bum we'll be there in twenty minutes. And if we were delayed, it was because a certain fluffy puppy was too busy drinking his baby juice."
"Hey!" Leon protested indignantly.
But Mathias was much faster. With an agile movement, he snatched the carton from his hands and shot toward the front door.
"GIVE ME BACK MY JUICE, YOU FUCKING THIEF!" Leon yelled, grabbing his backpack from the ground in a hurry before running after him.
"Come get it, Belmont!" Mathias challenged from the yard.
The absurd chase began immediately around the parked truck. Mathias, taking advantage of his height and long arms, lifted the carton in the air while gracefully dodging the hands of an increasingly unhinged and indignant Leon.
"Don't underestimate me, you damn human lamppost!" Leon bellowed, leaping to reach him.
"Was that an insult? Very weak, Leon. I'm really disappointed in you."
"Try not to get into trouble!" Mrs. Cronqvist called after them from the porch, watching the scene with a mixture of tenderness and resignation. "Leon, keep an eye on Mathias and make sure he doesn't get too much sun!"
"Mom!" Mathias groaned, feeling his cheeks burn with embarrassment.
Leon let out a triumphant laugh, interrupting his outburst for a second. "It would be my honor, Mrs. Cronqvist! I'll return him to you in one piece! NOW, MATHIAS, GIVE ME THAT!"
In a bold and completely impulsive move, Mathias brought the end of the plastic straw to his lips and inhaled the last sip of chocolate, right in front of Leon's wide-open eyes. It was a damn indirect kiss that, in Mathias's overheated mind, tasted like absolute bliss.
"Oops," Mathias said with a hint of malice, showing the empty container. "It's gone."
Leon froze completely in place. The silence that fell between them lasted barely as long as it takes for a match to strike, but Leon's gaze promised pure violence.
"You're dead, Cronqvist. I'm going to bury you right here."
Mathias smiled with a charming arrogance, the kind that drove Leon crazy in every possible way. "Catch me first, my little lion."
"YOU SON OF A BITCH, YOU'LL SEE!" Leon yelled, taking off after him with all the energy of his damn athletic body.
On the porch, Mrs. Cronqvist closed the front door with a long, resigned sigh, though with a knowing look. "It's definitely going to be a very, very long summer."
After a few more minutes of nonsense, absurd chases around the truck, and dramatic kidnapping threats over a container of chocolate, they finally managed to fit everything in the trunk. Mathias slammed it shut with a sharp, resounding, and definitive thud.
"If you forgot something, tough luck," he declared with a calmness that bordered on insulting.
"I didn't forget anything," Leon retorted, still clutching his drink as if it were a national treasure or a mystical artifact of vital importance.
Mathias scanned him from head to toe with a raised eyebrow. "Are you seriously going to be clutching that cup like a newborn baby the entire damn trip?"
"Because it's my baby, Cronqvist," Leon replied, his dignity wounded and his tone feigning solemnity. "My nutritious, chocolatey, delicious baby."
"Your brain needs more than sugar and cocoa to survive, Belmont." "Well, my brain survived the damn math thanks to this, so a little more respect for the fallen."
Mathias snorted, genuinely amused. He waved goodbye to his mother and climbed into the truck. The ritual was purely mechanical: key in the ignition, seat adjustment, seatbelt, and sunglasses. Leon slumped into the passenger seat, mimicking his every move, except for the subtle detail that he was still clutching his drink with suspicious force.
It didn't take Mathias three seconds to start teasing him.
"What's up, little lion?" he said with a sly grin, glancing at him over the top of his sunglasses. "Are you afraid I'll take it back?"
Leon turned bright red, a crimson that clashed violently with his blond hair.
"Don't you call me that!"
"Then stop acting like a scared puppy."
"Leave me alone, and don't you ever mess with my chocolate again!" Leon added, pouting so damn childishly that Mathias felt a dangerous, warm pull right in the center of his chest.
"Please, Leon. You've been taking that crap since we were four. It's practically pathological."
"It's not crap, it's pure bliss," Leon protested, raising the plastic cup as if it were the Holy Grail itself. "Without this, I would have been completely fried by trigonometry and I'd be stuck in summer school right now. I swear, if I had to study functions again, I would have thrown myself into the sea with rocks in my pockets."
Mathias let out a clean, loud laugh as he backed the truck out of the garage. "You're such a drama queen."
"I'm serious! Those first units where they mention the equations of a circle, advanced functions, and those damn trigonometric operations should be considered a war crime."
"They're not that hard if you use a modicum of logic."
Leon looked at him as if Mathias had just insulted his entire lineage and his ancestors. "Sure, 'logic.' Says the soulless genius who solved a cosine problem while brushing his teeth."
"I was bored," he shrugged arrogantly.
“And I was having a freaking existential crisis at your desk!”
“I remember that night perfectly,” Mathias laughed.
And his mind, treacherous as ever, dragged him back to that precise moment. He didn't just remember the blessed equations. He remembered Leon, his hair a complete mess, his eyes bloodshot from reading so much, muttering insults against Pythagoras as if he were his personal enemy. Mathias always ended up helping him, bringing him down a peg or two, and eventually convincing him it was time for bed.
Sometimes, Leon would fall fast asleep with his open notebooks. In those moments, Mathias would pick him up with an ease that surprised even himself and carry him gently to bed. These were their lifelong sacred traditions: Fridays for video games, high school gossip, group calls to affectionately insult their friends, and finally, bedtime.
And there was something very peculiar about those nights that both fascinated and infuriated Mathias: Leon always ended up snuggled up to him, using him like a damn human pillow or a personal refuge from the world.
Mathias usually woke up first. That was, by far, his favorite time of day. In the absolute silence of the morning, he could contemplate his best friend without filters or masks. Leon would bury his head in his chest, wrapping his athletic arms around him in an unconscious, possessive, and secure embrace. Mathias took advantage of the privacy to tangle his fingers in those golden curls, caressing his face with a gentleness he would never dare show in public. And he would smile like a complete idiot when Leon let out a soft giggle in his sleep at the touch of his caresses.
Yes, he admitted it completely. He was head over heels in love with his best friend.
He didn't know at what point "we're like brothers" had transformed into "I want you to bite my lips until I lose my mind." He only knew that Leon had infiltrated even his wettest and most forbidden dreams; dark corners where the delicacy of morning caresses transformed into something much more intense, carnal, emotional and idyllically crazy.
"Focus, idiot," he scolded himself internally, shaking his head sharply to dispel the dangerous mental image of Leon moaning his name.
"Mathias?"
Leon's voice, soft and laced with genuine curiosity, brought him back to reality like a bucket of ice water.
"Huh?"
"Are you okay?" Leon asked, glancing at him with a barely perceptible frown. "You went quiet all of a sudden. It was like you were calculating the trajectory of a meteor or something in your head."
Mathias cleared his throat, gripping the steering wheel more tightly than necessary. "Just thinking."
"You seem off," Leon persisted, fiddling with the plastic straw in his drink. His voice dropped a couple of octaves, losing all the electric spark it had a moment ago. "I guess... I pressured you too much to come, didn't I?"
Mathias frowned, but Leon wasn't looking at him anymore. He was still completely focused on his drink.
"I know you absolutely hate summer," Leon continued, almost in an audible whisper. "You hate the sun, outdoor activities during the day, sweating like crazy, and having sand stick to you. You'd probably rather be locked in your room with the air conditioning blasting, reading some dense book that only you understand."
"Leon..."
"And I'm sorry, really. I was a complete selfish jerk for dragging you into all this."
Mathias felt a sharp pang of guilt in his chest. He knew that look all too well: Leon felt responsible for his bitterness. He knew perfectly well that his friend was euphoric about this trip; despite being an athletic and extremely popular kid at school—even if he didn't realize it—Leon hadn't wanted to make summer plans with anyone but him. He'd turned down other invitations just to make sure they spent this week together, finally free from pesky adult supervision now that they were legally adults.
"Well done, idiot," Mathias scolded himself. "Your grumpy face is ruining her damn mood."
"Listen, Leon," Mathias said, softening his voice as much as he could. "I know summer feels like some kind of damn conspiracy by the universe against human skin."
Belmont let out a short, soft laugh, still tinged with sadness.
"But that doesn't mean I'm here against my will," Mathias continued, giving him a quick but intense look. "I chose to get in this truck. And I did it because I wanted to be with you."
Leon blinked a few times, visibly surprised by Mathias's raw, unfiltered honesty.
"You always say that any situation, no matter how shitty, becomes fun if we're together. And you're usually right, even if it pains me to admit it out loud."
Leon stared at him, those blue eyes shining beautifully in the sunlight streaming through the windshield. “Besides, you promised you’d make this vacation epic,” Mathias added with a crooked smile. “So I trust you, idiot. Don’t embarrass me in front of everyone.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward at all; it was one of those comforting silences that rebuild bridges. Suddenly, Leon broke into a wide, dazzling smile that made Mathias damn well willing to burn the whole world down just to keep it there for one more second.
"Heh, you're right. I'm amazing."
"Don't take advantage of my kindness."
"Never!" Leon exclaimed, raising his glass. "A toast. To surviving this damn semester and not dying in the attempt."
Mathias thumped his water bottle against the plastic with a dull thud; a toast worthy of two idiotic teenagers on a tight budget.
"To passing the damn exams."
Leon took a long swig and then, as if a switch of pure malice had suddenly flipped in his head, he glared at him with devilish eyes.
"Hey... if you try to steal my chocolate again..."
"What? Are you going to cry?"
"No. I'm going to tell the whole damn group what you said in your sleep at the last sleepover."
Mathias eased off the gas a millimeter, feeling absolute panic shoot down his spine. "You wouldn't dare."
"Oh, Leon... don't take my blanket... it's cold..." Leon mimicked in a ridiculously high-pitched, sleepy voice, his shoulders swaying. "You're so soft... stay here... I think I remember you comparing me to a human marshmallow."
"THAT'S A LIE! I DON'T SAY THAT BULLSHIT!" Mathias exploded, feeling a violent heat rise up his neck, turning his ears red.
"And you also mentioned something about hugs," Leon crooned with a feigned innocence that was genuinely frightening. "Something about your hair smelling like mint and vanilla and I don't know what else."
"SHUT UP, YOU BASTARD! I said you smelled like sugar because you're walking, talking diabetes!" The poor guy was as red as a ripe tomato, and this time it wasn't exactly from the sun.
"And I think also..."
Mathias floored the accelerator, making the truck's engine roar violently.
"One more word, Belmont, and I'll tell everyone the ridiculous name you gave that giant stuffed bat I won from you at the fall fair. The one you still have jealously guarded on your bedroom chair."
Now it was Leon's turn to nearly spit out all the chocolate milk on the dashboard. The color drained from his face in a damn second.
"You wouldn't dare! That's a damn state secret!"
"Try me," Mathias challenged, his triumphant, arrogant smile returning. "'Mr. Dark Hugs,' right?"
"OK, OK! I TAKE IT BACK!" Leon shouted, raising his hands in complete surrender while shielding his glass with his elbow. "We're even, you manipulative genius."
"Thanks."
"But I'm still keeping an eye on my chocolate."
"Whatever you say, pup."
They both burst into hearty laughter. It was a stupid, early-morning, childish scene, but that was exactly their language. They might meet a thousand other people at school, but no one would understand their silences or their insults like the two of them. They were two scatterbrained, hormonal idiots who would rather die than let that damn connection break.
Leon couldn't help but be completely mesmerized, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. Mathias drove with that irritatingly elegant calm that was so characteristic of him; one hand on the steering wheel with utter nonchalance, the other resting near the gearshift. His sunglasses concealed those light gray eyes that always seemed to be analyzing the world in search of flaws, while the summer breeze coming through the window gently tousled a few unruly strands of his jet-black hair.
Belmont let out a barely audible sigh against the rim of his chocolate bar. Deep down, in his chaotic self… he greatly admired that idiot.
Mathias was intelligent to a degree that was downright offensive, and his grades were so perfect they were disgusting. He was ridiculously polite, spoke with natural eloquence, and possessed a future so bright it dazzled anyone. To the parents in the area and the teachers at the high school where they studied, Mathias Cronqvist was the "model student," the damn perfect son that everyone would want in their homes.
And that, frankly, had always gotten on Leon's nerves to no end.
It wasn't out of envy, not at all; but because he knew perfectly well that that squeaky-clean facade wasn't the whole story. The rest of the world didn't have the slightest idea who he really was.
Mathias could also show an extremely ruthless and dark side. He possessed such sharp and lethal sarcasm that he could disarm and humiliate anyone with just a couple of well-placed phrases. He could be cold, calculating, and downright manipulative, using his superior intellect to control situations as he pleased if he wanted to. Leon used to tell him, jokingly, that his friend was like a diplomatic snake: someone extremely dangerous who knew how to maintain appearances perfectly before striking.
And, to be honest, Leon felt like the luckiest guy on the planet not to be on his enemies list. Because when someone managed to exhaust Mathias's fine patience, he became the very definition of an icy, cruel, and forceful response.
The guys at school often asked Leon that annoying question that made his blood boil: "How can you be so close to someone as bitter and unapproachable as him?"
People said Leon was like a ray of sunshine: cheerful, sociable, active, and full of a contagious energy that drew everyone in. Mathias, on the other hand, seemed like the complete opposite: reserved, distant, serious, unfriendly, and always buried in dense books with a somber expression that kept the whole world at a safe distance.
Those stupid comments always felt deeply unfair to him. That damn high school society had a tendency to judge everything by its surface.
Because Leon had the unique privilege of knowing what no one else in this universe could see: Mathias's genuinely human side. The Mathias who completely relaxed when they were close, the one who genuinely laughed at silly childish things, and the one who showed unwavering loyalty and unexpected tenderness when he knew no one was around. The Mathias who also struggled with doubts, who had terrible days, and who sometimes just needed the simple company of the one person he truly trusted.
And amidst all that turmoil of thoughts, Leon harbored a secret he struggled to acknowledge even in the privacy of his own mind: Mathias offered him unconditional support and a sense of security he wouldn't trade for anything. When they were together in their own world, Leon felt as if the rest of the noisy planet completely disappeared and that everything was alright.
It was like having found their own safe haven, ever since they were in diapers.
Immersed in the silence of the car, a very specific memory began to gain strength in his mind, momentarily pulling him away from the road. It was a violent impact, like a direct punch to the gut that took his breath away.
The boarding school.
Leon pressed his lips together slightly, feeling that damned bitter taste in his throat again. He remembered with painful clarity the day Mathias received the letter: a formal and exclusive invitation to enter a prestigious, elite academic boarding school. One of those closed, stuffy places where only the country's fucking geniuses got in.
Leon had been happy for him at the time; he'd really tried. He'd shouted with excitement, congratulated him effusively, and given him a hard slap on the back to hide his feelings. But inside, he felt something vital shatter into a thousand pieces. It had been a sudden emptiness, an irrational and suffocating fear that he didn't know how to explain at that moment.
The equation in his head was simple, cold, and damn cruel: Mathias would go far away. He would focus entirely on his advanced studies, meet refined people on his same intellectual level, have a disgustingly full schedule of conferences or important projects… and Leon would fade into the distant background. He knew perfectly well that the calls would start to become scarce, the messages would get shorter and shorter, and, sooner than he expected, he would end up being just a blurry memory from high school. "That loud, blond friend I once had."
That same night, Leon simply couldn't take it anymore. He locked himself in his room, slid backward against the door until he was curled up on the floor, and began to cry in absolute silence so that no one would hear him. He felt pathetic. A damn selfish jerk. He was talking about the future of the boy he loved, the opportunity of a lifetime, his parents' absolute pride… And what the hell was he doing? Crying like a stupid brat because he didn't want him to leave.
"Idiot... you're a complete idiot..." he'd whispered to himself over and over during those dark days, trying to tear that oppressive feeling from his chest with rage.
He'd already planned it all out in his head, like a perfect movie he never wanted to leave: finish school, go to prom together, throw their caps in the air at the same time, get into the same local university even if they studied different things, get mediocre jobs to complain about together, and then aim for something better.
Even if Mathias never reciprocated his feelings, even if he never loved him with the intensity that Leon loved him, Leon was completely willing to accept the damn crumbs just to keep him close. He would be the best man at his wedding, he would watch Mathias start a family with a forced smile, he would become the "Uncle Leon" who came to the house with noisy toys for the kids, and finally, they would grow old together like a couple of old bastards, telling the same stupid stories on a porch until one of them kicked the bucket.
But the mere thought of separating now, so soon and so abruptly, completely shattered him. He felt like the best years of his life were being stolen from him before they even had a chance to begin.
Even so, he swore to himself, with a lump in his throat, that he would never become a burden. He didn't want to be the bad friend who clipped Mathias's wings out of pure, disgusting selfishness.
That same night, after dragging his feet as if his own body weighed a ton, Leon lay on his side in bed. With a lump in his throat, he grabbed his phone and opened the file gallery, going straight to a hidden, protected folder: the repository of his most precious memories.
In absolutely every picture, the two of them appeared. There were photos from when they were scruffy little kids barely attending kindergarten—courtesy of their mothers, who always pulled out the physical photo albums to tease them—up to more recent snapshots. Leon stared at the screen with a suffocating mix of joy, nostalgia, and sharp pain, lingering especially on those photos where they were caught off guard, snapped by their friends' phones.
He focused on one image in particular. The two of them were hugging, laughing like complete lunatics over something stupid that had happened during creativity week at school, right at the start of midle school. They were hugging sideways, laughing like drugged seals, but the happiness on their faces was so damn genuine that, for a split second, it managed to bring a nostalgic smile to the blond boy's face.
But reality was a relentless bitch, quick to remind him that Mathias would be gone, and that those photographs would soon become the painful testament to what would never be again. The thought made him curl up again into a fetal position, clutching his phone to his chest in a pathetic attempt to console himself. Fresh tears, this time thicker and hotter, flooded his troubled blue eyes. He would have been terribly ashamed if anyone saw him like this; he wouldn't even let his mother see him like this. Only within these four walls could he silently vent his grief, resigning himself to the inevitable.
Tired of crying, he fell into a deep sleep. However, his face didn't reflect the peace of someone about to rest, but rather the torment of someone who continues to suffer even in the world of dreams. He was so lost in thought that he never noticed his phone screen light up in the darkness with a WhatsApp notification. It was a message from Mathias.
Then came the fateful day of the interview.
Leon walked toward Mathias's house feeling like every damn step weighed a ton of lead. They talked for a while on the porch, but Leon felt like the words were stuck and stuck in his throat. He rehearsed his best "I'm super proud of you, bro" smile in front of the mirror, trying his hardest to hide the fact that inside he was falling apart.
"You'll do great, I'm sure of it," he managed to say, his heart so tight it almost took his breath away.
Mathias gave him a calm smile, the kind he usually reserved only for him. "Thanks for coming to say goodbye, Leon. I'll do my best."
Leon took a deep breath, tensing every muscle in his body to keep from collapsing right there in front of him. He clenched his fists, hidden in his pockets, and blurted out the only thing his miserable selfishness allowed him to beg for:
"Just... promise me something, okay? Call me the moment you have a damn free minute. Don't forget about this poor idiot."
Mathias stared at him for an eternity, with that dark intensity of his that always seemed to read his soul without asking permission. "Of course I will, Leon. It's a promise."
Minutes later, Leon watched him get into the truck. He waved goodbye, forcing a damn smile until the vehicle disappeared completely around the corner. And, in that precise moment, the mask shattered. With blurred vision and an empty chest, he returned home to wait for news, mentally preparing himself for the beginning of the end.
Leon decided to await Mathias's fateful news in the absolute privacy of his room. Sitting in the middle of his bed, he clutched tightly the enormous red-eyed bat plushie his best friend had won him at the last fall fair. He buried his face in the plush, seeking a ridiculous comfort as he held back another wave of tears that threatened to soak the toy. At least he was grateful his mother was still working; if anyone saw him like this, they'd die of embarrassment.
Because yes, probably everyone would look at him like a dramatic idiot. An immature teenager incapable of being happy for his best friend's success. Maybe they'd think he was a jealous egotist, but no one understood what was really going on with him. No one knew how much it hurt to feel like he was about to lose the most important person in his life.
The worst part was that the possibility of Mathias failing the interview never even crossed his mind. No, that was impossible. Mathias Cronqvist had that kind of absurd charm that made everyone fall for him. He was intelligent, elegant, polite, and eloquent; too perfect for his own good. If he put his mind to it, he could surely convince the president to give him a scholarship, the keys to the city, and a damn parade in his honor.
Leon let out a bitter laugh at the stuffed animal. Of course they'd accept him at that damn boarding school. And that was precisely why his chest felt so tight he could barely breathe. That assured victory was also the beginning of his farewell.
He wasn't a miserable person; he would never wish anything bad for Mathias. On the contrary, if anyone deserved to fulfill his dreams, it was him. But it still hurt in a stupid and desperate way. He just wanted a few more minutes to vent before he had to put on the mask of the perfect best friend. He knew exactly what would come next: Mathias's parents would take him out to dinner to celebrate, his classmates would organize some impromptu party at school, and there would be hugs, congratulations, and speeches about "the bright future" that awaited him.
And Leon would have to smile through the whole damn process while he felt his heart shatter inside.
“How pathetic I am,” he thought, collapsing back on the bed and covering his face with his arm. “You should be happy for him.” And he was, that was the real problem.
The hours dragged on agonizingly. When he finally managed to calm down, he went downstairs to the living room. The silence of the house felt heavy. He slumped onto the sofa, phone in hand, checking the screen every thirty seconds like a madman waiting for medical results. The television was just background noise; his head kept repeating the same phrase on a loop: “He’s going to leave.”
Suddenly, a sound broke the silence. The jolt in his chest was so violent he almost dropped his phone when he reacted. It was a WhatsApp message from Mathias:
“I’m coming over. I need to tell you everything. I’ll go straight to your room as soon as I get there.”
Leon smiled automatically, though the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. Of course, Mathias surely wanted to tell him how amazing the interview had been, how elegant the boarding school was, and how different life there would be. A whole new world. A world far away from him.
He swallowed, leaned his head back against the sofa, and closed his eyes, preparing himself mentally. As the good best friend he was, he had to be happy for him. He had to support him, smile, and tell him how proud he was, even though inside he felt something slowly breaking in his chest. Because that was the right thing to do. Because Mathias deserved to be happy, even if that happiness meant leaving him behind.
However, what happened next was something Leon would never forget for the rest of his life.
That same day, late in the afternoon, Mathias finally showed up at Leon's house. But something was off. Very off.
Leon had barely opened the door when he felt a kind of dark, depressing aura cross the threshold along with his friend. Mathias shuffled in, his formal attire slightly disheveled, his tie loose, and an expression of existential boredom so intense it looked like he'd just returned from the war instead of an academic interview. He didn't even say hello. He simply trudged into the house like a lost soul.
Leon stared at him, completely bewildered; the image before him was not what he expected.
Because yes, he'd seen Mathias irritated before; annoyed, even sarcastic to the point of exhaustion. But this was different. He looked genuinely drained of life, as if he'd aged twenty years in a single afternoon.
"Could it be... that things went badly for him?" he thought, still unable to believe it. The idea was so absurd that it almost sounded offensive to the natural laws of the universe.
He wanted to ask what had happened, but Mathias slowly raised a hand, silently gesturing for him to follow. And Leon obeyed immediately.
They went straight up to Belmont's room. The moment Mathias crossed the threshold, he collapsed face-first onto the bed like a sack of potatoes just thrown from a truck. The mattress creaked under his weight as he buried his face in the sheets. His normally immaculate black hair splattered around his head in a complete mess. Then he let out a sigh so long, deep, and miserable that Leon felt the oxygen in the room drain away with him.
Leon watched him with growing concern.
"Mathias… are you okay?" he asked slowly. "What happened? Why do you look like you just want God to take your soul?"
Mathias let out another deathly sigh. Upon hearing Leon's voice, he barely turned his face toward him, his expression weary, as if he'd just had a personal argument with the very concept of existence.
Leon moved a little closer to the edge of the bed and, almost instinctively, gently brushed a strand of black hair away from his eyes. The mere touch was enough to make Leon's face heat up slightly. Damn it, his damn hormones weren't helping at all.
Mathias looked up at him.
"Leon… I don't even know where to begin, my friend," he muttered in a bored voice, dramatically weary of life.
"Did the interview go that badly?"
Mathias made a lazy movement with his hand, as if swatting away an invisible fly.
"Not at all. I had no problems. Honestly, Professor Gandolfi's exams are harder than the questions at that boarding school."
Leon blinked, confused. So… why on earth did he look like a war widower?
"Then why are you like this?"
Mathias let out another snort and rolled over on his back, staring at the ceiling as if he had just witnessed the cosmic horrors of the universe.
"I passed," he said finally.
Leon felt a painful stab in his chest. But then Mathias continued:
"And I turned down the offer."
Absolute silence. Deathly. Leon's mind went completely blank.
"…What?"
Mathias was still there, lying calmly in his bed, as if he hadn't just made the most absurd revelation of the decade. He had rejected the most prestigious boarding school in the country. An opportunity thousands of students would kill for without a second thought, and he had just dismissed it with the same indifference as someone rejecting a bad tuna sandwich.
Leon opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Absolutely nothing coherent came out of his lips.
And then, Mathias began to spew pure venom.
"Even before I walked in, everything was already screwed up," he growled, rubbing his temple. "The entrance looked like a fucking architectural labyrinth designed by some elitist psychopath. I thought I'd never find the damn front door. Only five minutes had passed and I already wanted to leave. I walked for ten minutes and ended up dizzy. That design is just unnecessary pretentiousness."
Mathias let out a snort full of contempt.
"And the students around me were looking at me like I was some newly discovered exotic species. I could hear them bragging about their last names and how much money they had. What a load of rubbish."
"What are you talking about, Mathias?"
"The worst part was my damn allergies." He closed his eyes, his expression pained. "Leon, I swear I felt like my nose was about to explode. There was way too much expensive perfume and a criminal amount of decorative pollen. If I didn't end up with a red nose like a damn clown, it was a miracle."
Leon brought a hand to his mouth, fighting fiercely not to laugh. Because yes, he knew Mathias's allergies perfectly well. He remembered too many times when the other had ended up sneezing uncontrollably because of strong perfumes. Once he'd even sneezed so much he almost fell off his bike, and Mathias was still traumatized by that anecdote to this day.
"And here I was thinking you'd be celebrating with your parents about getting into boarding school..."
"What celebration? My ass!" Mathias spat. "I was going to celebrate when I managed to get out of that damn place alive."
Leon pressed his lips together tightly. "Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Don't—"
"Oh, Mathias…"
"And that was nothing." He propped himself up on his elbows, indignant again. "The interviewer was worse."
Leon raised an eyebrow. "What did she do?"
"When she saw me, she started scrutinizing me like she was evaluating prime cattle. And then she launched into a tirade about the prestige of the boarding school like she was narrating the creation of the universe." He frowned with genuine disgust. "Her ego was bigger than her damn height."
That was enough. Leon burst into laughter. Loud, uncontrolled, genuine laughter that filled the room.
"I can't believe what I'm hearing!" he said between laughs. "And what did you do?"
"What could I do? Smile and nod like a polite idiot so they wouldn't call security early."
"Liar. I bet you put on that 'I'm intellectually superior to all of you' face."
Mathias stared at him, maintaining the drama but with an arrogant smile spreading across his face.
"Well... yes, a little."
Leon almost choked with laughter.
"While she kept bragging about her school, inside I just wanted to jump out a window and see if I'd kill myself so I wouldn't have to listen anymore," Mathias continued with absolute seriousness. "Or tell her to shove her prestige up her ass."
Leon ended up doubled over with laughter on the bed, infected by the absurd relief of the situation.
"Mathias, for God's sake! It's the best boarding school in the country!"
"Leon, that place was a nest of elitist vipers," he declared with genuine horror. "And that's coming from someone who considers himself a damned snake with legs. I'd rather study at the most run-down public school on the planet than breathe that stale air of superiority again."
Leon wiped the tears from his eyes, still laughing, although now his heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. Because Mathias wasn't going anywhere. He wouldn't go anywhere. He was still there, with him.
"You're unbelievable, really," he said, still laughing. "You're the only idiot in the world capable of rejecting such an opportunity out of sheer aesthetic hatred."
Mathias let out a huff of exasperation.
"It was that or die of irritation if I stayed one more minute in that damned place. Or worse, lose my nose from sneezing so much."
Leon laughed again, unable to stop himself.
"You're hopeless, Mathias."
And it was absolutely true. For weeks, Leon had imagined every possible catastrophic scenario about that boarding school. He'd pictured Mathias moving away, making new friends, perfectly adapting to that sophisticated environment, and gradually leaving behind the life they shared. He'd even imagined painful goodbyes in the rain, like a complete dramatic fool.
But never, not even in his wildest dreams, did he consider the possibility that Mathias might simply reject the scholarship because he found the place unbearable. Much less that he'd come to his room and insult the architecture, the expensive perfume, and the upper class with almost philosophical indignation. It was so ridiculous it was impossible not to laugh.
However, beneath all that comedy, Leon felt something much deeper and more poignant throbbing in his chest: relief. A relief so immense it almost hurt. Mathias was still there. He wasn't leaving.
And along with that selfish happiness, a horrible guilt also appeared. Because, in some miserable corner of his heart, he had indeed wished for everything to go wrong. Even though he was his best friend. Even though he loved him more than anyone in the world. He had wished for him to fail just so he wouldn't lose him. And that, in his teenage mind, made him feel like complete garbage.
Mathias let out another tired sigh as he stared at the ceiling of the room.
"When they found out, I had a monumental fight with my father."
Leon's smile vanished immediately. Mathias's tone had changed; he no longer sounded amusedly annoyed. He sounded exhausted. Dark.
"Really?" he asked cautiously. "Did he take it that badly?"
Mathias let out a dry laugh, devoid of any humor.
"Badly is an understatement. He couldn't process that I turned down boarding school." He ran a hand over his forehead, dragging the day's weariness. "He was beside himself. He asked me if I'd lost my mind from hanging out so much with my 'loser clown' friends, or if I was just an idiot for throwing my life away."
Leon frowned, feeling indignation rise in his blood.
"Mathias…"
"According to him, I'm wasting the Cronqvist name, all the investment he made in me, and my chance to become a 'successful genius.'" He made air quotes with obvious contempt. "You know, the typical phrases of a disappointed father."
Leon felt an uncomfortable pang in his chest. He knew exactly what Mathias's father was like: demanding, cold, the kind of man who saw his son more as a brilliant project or a trophy than as a real person.
He barely accepted Leon's presence in his house and that he was his son's best friend.
"And your mother?" he asked more gently. "What did she say?"
Mathias was silent for a few tense seconds.
"She was surprised… but she hardly said a word." He looked down for a moment. "Although I think she suspects the real reason I turned down the offer."
Leon blinked, puzzled.
"Your real reason?" He frowned. "Wait, so it wasn't solely because of your delicate nose and your irrational hatred of expensive perfume?"
Mathias let out a short, sniffing laugh.
"That may be part of it." He put a hand over his eyes, hiding his expression of obvious frustration. "But there's something that makes me much angrier, Leon."
The room fell into a deathly silence. Mathias took a few seconds to continue, as if he were sorting through all the anger and resentment he'd been bottling up for hours.
"Everyone had an opinion about my future," he finally said, his voice even deeper. "That it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. That I deserved to be there. That it was perfect for my career. That it would be a waste not to accept." His expression hardened completely. "They talked about my life as if it were some damn investment project."
Leon remained silent, listening. Really listening, absorbing every word.
"But no one asked me what I wanted," Mathias continued, and this time there was a dangerously vulnerable honesty in his voice. "Not a single person came up to ask me if that was what would make me happy. If I really wanted to go. If I could see myself living there." He let out a bitter laugh that pierced Leon. "They simply assumed I should accept because I'm 'intelligent.' As if getting good grades automatically takes away my right to decide where the hell I want to be."
That hit Leon like a truck at full speed. Because he, in his quiet selfishness, had done exactly the same thing. He'd been so obsessed with the primal fear of losing him that he'd never stopped to ask how Mathias felt about the whole situation. Deep down, he'd also assumed that boarding school was "the right thing" for someone with his brain. He'd been just like everyone else, and the thought made his stomach churn.
"Wow..." Leon murmured, looking down at his own hands. "I have to admit, I thought the same thing."
Mathias barely turned his head toward him, phlegmatic. Leon swallowed, feeling genuinely miserable in the light of his own revelation.
"I thought it was what you wanted. What you were looking forward to." He let out a small, humorless laugh, full of self-loathing. "And look at me, bragging that I knew you better than anyone."
He clenched his fists on his legs, crumpling the fabric of his trousers.
"I was a fucking selfish jerk."
The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.
"I was so scared of you leaving that I never thought about how you felt about all this." He lowered his head even further, unable to meet her gaze. "I should have talked to you from the beginning. If I had known how much you hated the idea… maybe I would have tried to help you. Looked for some way to spare you from going through that whole shitty process."
His chest felt heavy, as if a stone were pressed down on him. I have hated seeing Mathias like this: exhausted, frustrated, terribly alone amidst everyone else's expectations.
"I'm so sorry, Mathias."
Leon couldn't finish apologizing. Mathias moved suddenly.
Without warning, he wrapped both arms around him and pulled him toward him with an overwhelming force that completely stole his breath. The movement was as abrupt as it was desperate, causing Leon to let out a small, strangled sound of surprise before he was completely trapped against his chest. Mathias's face ended up buried in the hollow between his neck and shoulder.
Leon simply froze, his eyes wide.
Because Mathias wasn't someone who was particularly affectionate. Yes, there were times when he blatantly invaded his personal space or lay down next to him like a giant, grumpy cat, and sometimes they shared hugs when they were alone, but this was different. This hug felt… needed. As if Mathias were clinging to the only thing that mattered to him before he lost control.
Leon's heart began to beat so hard and wildly that he thought it would burst from his chest or that he would faint right there. Then, almost out of pure primal instinct, he ended up returning the hug with the same or even greater intensity. His fingers dug hard into the fabric of Mathias's shirt, wrinkling it. He felt that letting go, even by a millimeter, would be the worst mistake of his life.
Then he heard those words. The words that completely shattered everything Leon thought he understood about his world.
"Listen to me," Mathias murmured against his neck, his voice cracking with an emotional exhaustion he rarely let show. "I turned down the offer because I wanted to stay with you."
Leon stopped breathing. Literally. Time seemed to freeze in the room. He felt Mathias's grip tighten even further around his body, almost to the point of hurting him.
"I couldn't stand the thought of being in that damn place without my best friend," Mathias confessed in a husky whisper. "You make my days not a fucking academic torture."
Leon squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing a sob. God.
"You're the only one who knows when I'm about to tell the world to go to hell," Mathias continued with a brutal honesty that disarmed anyone. "The only one who can calm me down without treating me like some damn machine designed solely to get good grades."
Each word landed like a direct punch to the center of Leon's chest. And it hurt. It hurt in a strangely beautiful way, because he never imagined he meant so much to anyone. Much less to Mathias.
But Cronqvist wasn't finished.
"I noticed you were hiding something from me," he finally murmured, barely moving. "Your congratulations were pathetic. They sounded too forced."
Leon felt the blood drain from his body, leaving him cold.
"Mathias…" His voice came out barely a broken, helpless whisper. "Was it that obvious?"
Mathias raised his head just enough to look him directly in the eyes. His gray pupils, normally calm, cold, and calculating, now seemed dangerously vulnerable.
“I know you too well,” he replied without breaking eye contact. “You were the only one who seemed to be attending a funeral every time someone mentioned the boarding school. Even though you tried to smile like an idiot in front of everyone.”
Leon wanted to laugh at his own misfortune, or die of embarrassment. Maybe both at the same time.
Mathias slowly raised a hand and stroked his cheek. The simple physical contact, so warm and intimate, made Leon shiver from head to toe. With utter gentleness, Mathias’s thumb traced beneath his eyes, outlining the sensitive skin.
“Also…” he murmured in a voice that became strangely soft, almost a secret between them. “You look like you’ve been crying. Your eyes are still swollen.”
Leon felt a terrible, violent heat rush to his face. Damn it, he couldn’t even hide decently from him. Mathias watched him silently for a few more seconds, devouring every feature of his face before speaking again.
"Leon... tell me the truth, what you really felt about the idea of me going to boarding school. Please."
That finally broke his last line of defense. Leon immediately lowered his gaze, unable to keep up with those gray eyes. Now that Mathias was so ridiculously close, holding him so possessively, it was impossible to hide everything he'd been silently swallowing for weeks—or maybe years. His fingers tightened a little more on the other's clothes, seeking support.
"I wanted to support you," he finally confessed, his voice trembling, feeling the lump in his throat threaten to choke him. "I really wanted to." He swallowed, trying to steady himself. "I thought that's what you wanted. I thought boarding school was exactly the kind of bright future you wanted for yourself."
He felt miserable. Ridiculously pathetic and miserable.
"I didn't want to be a selfish jerk," he continued in a low voice, almost speaking to himself. "I thought that if I told you I didn't want you to leave... I'd end up holding you back. I was terrified you'd think I was just trying to keep you here on a whim."
Mathias didn't interrupt. He just kept listening with absolute, phlegmatic attention, devouring every word. And that patience made it even harder for Leon to contain the dam that had just broken.
"So I pretended to be happy for you." Leon let out a small, broken laugh, heavy with self-loathing. "I tried to act like a good friend while I felt like I was dying inside. The words were starting to come out on their own now, without any stupid control. "I was terrified of losing you," he finally admitted, his biggest secret laid bare. "I thought you'd get there, meet new people, get used to a much better environment... and eventually forget about me."
The mere thought of being erased from Mathias's life still tore at his chest. Because Mathias was brilliant, charismatic, special. There were always people orbiting around him, seeking a bit of his intellectual attention even though he had a serious and mysterious personality. And what was Leon compared to all that? Just... Leon. The same old guy.
"But at the same time," he murmured, choking on guilt, "I felt like I was the damn obstacle. Like I was getting in the way of something important in your life."
"And now that you've rejected all of that for me..." His voice cracked slightly, his eyes burning brightly. "I feel happy and miserable at the same time. I don't want you to regret your life because of me."
Before Leon could sink any further into his own guilt or break down right there, Mathias reacted abruptly. He took Leon's face in both hands and, with a gentleness unexpected for someone as irritable as him, pushed him back until he fell onto the bed.
Leon let out a small, stifled sound of surprise. A second later, Mathias was on top of him. The closeness was immediate. Dangerous.
Mathias's legs partially trapped Leon's, one hand still cupping his face, and their bodies were so ridiculously close that Leon could feel the scorching heat radiating from the other. If someone opened the door at that precise moment, there wouldn't be a single coherent explanation in the universe that could justify this as a normal friendship.
Leon turned red immediately. Bright red, like a tomato about to explode from the pressure of his own hormones.
"M-Mathias…"
But Mathias didn't move away. On the contrary, he slowly pressed his forehead against Leon's, forcing him to remain still and submissive under his gray gaze.
"Listen to me carefully," he whispered with a seriousness that made Leon's heart race even more. "You're not to blame for my decisions."
Leon swallowed, feeling the air thick. “I chose this,” Mathias continued, his eyes never leaving Leon’s. “And I swear I don’t regret a thing. I’m going to make it on my own terms, Leon. I don’t need an elite boarding school to prove anything to anyone.”
Leon barely glanced away, his chest still aching.
"But... what about your father?" he asked, his voice thick with uncertainty. "I don't even want to imagine what he's thinking now that you told him you stayed for me." He frowned slightly. "He probably considers me the worst influence on your entire life."
That achieved something miraculous: Mathias smiled. And not just any smile. It was that crooked, dangerous, malicious grin that always managed to completely shatter what little emotional stability Leon had left.
"Well..." he murmured with a truly poisonous calm. "Not exactly."
Leon looked at him, confused, blinking.
"What do you mean by 'not exactly'?"
Mathias seemed to relish the suspense, savoring Leon's confusion.
"I told him something else."
"Something else?"
"A much better lie."
Leon narrowed his eyes. That was never, under any circumstances, a good sign when it came from Mathias.
"Mathias... what the hell did you say to him?"
Mathias's smile widened slightly. Then he leaned slowly toward Leon's ear, so close that Leon felt his warm breath brush against the skin of his neck, raising goosebumps. And he whispered the absurd excuse he'd used to end the argument with his father.
Leon's blue eyes widened, like saucers. His brain shut down for about three full seconds as he processed the nonsense he'd just heard.
"WHAT?!"
He immediately pushed Mathias away with all his might, horrified.
"DON'T BE AN ANIMAL!"
Mathias completely lost his composure. He slumped sideways on the bed, bursting into genuine, loud, and raucous laughter. He ended up rolling around in the sheets, clutching his stomach with both hands as he tried unsuccessfully to catch his breath. It had been a very long time since Leon had seen him laugh like that: unfiltered, without elegant sarcasm. Just… happy.
"It was the first thing that came to mind to shut him up!" Mathias managed to say between spasms of laughter.
"That wasn't an excuse, it was social suicide!" Leon shouted, his cheeks still burning crimson. "Your dad almost killed you!"
"It was totally worth it just to see his damn face." Mathias wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "I thought he was going to have a heart attack right there."
"Of course! I would have too!"
"Don't exaggerate."
"You're such a fucking exaggerator! How could you say such a stupid thing?!"
Mathias laughed again, filling the air with a bright relief.
"Because it worked."
"Mathias, please tell me you didn't say that with that arrogant intellectual face of yours."
"Of course I did."
Leon covered his face with both hands, groaning with secondhand embarrassment.
"Oh, my God… your father must have thought you joined a cult."
"Possibly."
"Definitely."
Mathias let out another laugh before looking at him with something much softer and deeper hidden beneath the humor.
"He'd never understand my life," he said this time more calmly, looking him straight in the eye. "He doesn't know what it's like to have someone like you."
And there it was again. That horrible, delicious heat in Leon's chest. That unbearable feeling of wanting to laugh, cry, and bury his face in the pillow all at once. He looked at him with a mixture of disbelief, tenderness, and utter emotional wreckage.
"God…" he murmured. "You're a real bastard."
Mathias raised an eyebrow with instant arrogance.
"I always have surprises for you, little lion."
Leon felt his face burn even more at the damn nickname.
"Stop calling me that."
"Never."
"I hate you."
"Liar."
The pillow slammed directly into Mathias's face before he could say anything else.
"Shut up!"
"Coward!"
Five seconds later, Leon Belmont's room had become an absolute war zone. Feathers flying through the air, pillows mercilessly pounding, and completely stupid teenage insults bouncing off the walls. The laughter was so loud that it could probably be heard from the opposite sidewalk.
Mathias tried to immobilize him using a pillow as a deadly weapon, but Leon responded by throwing himself on top of him to take it away, which ended with both of them falling sideways amidst the mess of rumpled sheets and creaking mattresses.
"Give that back, you beast!"
"Never, commoner!"
"Commoner?! Who the hell talks like that in a pillow fight?!"
"Someone intellectually superior."
"I'm going to strangle you!"
"That sounds suspiciously exciting."
"MATHIAS!"
Their laughter filled the room again, and during those magical minutes, all the emotional weight completely disappeared. There were no boarding schools, no family pressure, no fear of the future. Just the two of them, acting like the eighteen-year-old idiots they were. Exactly as always.
Minutes later, they both collapsed onto the unmade bed, panting from the exertion and with their hair completely disheveled. There were cotton balls stuck in Mathias's black hair, and Leon couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.
"You look ridiculous."
"And you look like an electrocuted cat."
"How rude."
"How sensitive."
They remained like that for a few seconds, trying to catch their breath as their heart rates stabilized. Then Mathias spoke again, this time his gaze fixed on the white ceiling.
"I just want this."
Leon barely turned his head on the pillow toward him.
"This?"
Mathias nodded slowly, serious.
"A simple life. Fun. Without so many damn pretensions." He let out a small sigh, relaxing his shoulders. "I want to share the best moments with you without a third party coming in and telling us what's right or convenient."
Leon felt something immensely warm expand inside his chest, erasing the last doubts that had plagued him for weeks. For the first time in a long time, the future no longer seemed like a terrifying monster. He smiled gently and reached out across the rumpled sheets.
"Then let's make it happen, my friend."
Mathias looked down at Leon's hand. And, almost by pure instinct, he intertwined his fingers with his best friend's. Natural. Easy. As if that puzzle piece had always belonged there.
Neither of them said anything after that. But in that moment, lying among loose feathers, stifled laughter, and an absolute jumble of teenage emotions, the outside world simply ceased to matter.
"Earth to Leon Belmont…" Mathias's mocking voice cut through the soft hum of the engine. Leon blinked a few times, abruptly pulled from his thoughts as if he'd just returned from an intergalactic trip. He barely turned his head toward him, still disoriented.
"Huh? What happened?"
Mathias snapped his fingers in front of his face without taking his other hand off the wheel.
"Perfect. The subject has returned from the planet Saturn," he nodded with mock solemnity. "Welcome back to Earth, Leon. Was the weather nice over there, or were you still calculating the area of a circle?"
Leon gave a short, somewhat embarrassed laugh and ran a hand through his golden curls.
"Sorry…" he murmured. "I was thinking about… things."
"That explains the existential idiot look on your face." Mathias smiled slightly. "You looked like the star of a cheap perfume commercial."
Leon turned slowly toward him, his brow furrowed in offense.
"Thanks for the diagnosis, Dr. Sarcasm." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Were you telling me something important, or do you just enjoy hearing your own voice?"
"Both."
The answer came out so quickly, automatically, and confidently that Leon snorted.
"Modest as ever."
"I was telling you to call that jerk Joachim and let him know we're almost there." Mathias made a slight face of displeasure. "I don't want them starting to drink before we get there and us having to drag them out of the parking lot under arrest."
Leon took his cell phone out of his pocket.
"Understood, Captain."
While searching for the contact on the screen, he ended up glancing at Mathias almost without realizing it. The serious profile, the strong jawline, the relaxed yet confident way he drove with one hand… The light of the setting sun partially filtered through the windshield, casting small golden highlights on his black hair.
And there it was again, that stupid little warmth in his chest. The one Leon was steadfastly pretending not to understand because of his own nerves.
"Mathias…"
"Mm?"
Leon hesitated for barely a second before speaking, his mouth feeling a little dry.
"Thanks."
Mathias raised an eyebrow without taking his eyes off the road.
"Why? Are you finally going to pay for my gas?"
Leon rolled his eyes, amused.
"Don't be a jerk." He lowered his phone slightly. "Thanks for always being there for me. And for coming on this trip, even though I know perfectly well that summer feels like medieval torture designed specifically to punish you for your sins."
That elicited a small, nasal laugh from Mathias.
"My allergies are already writing a suicide note."
"Drama queen."
"I'm completely serious." He frowned slightly, looking at the dashboard. "It's 30 degrees and we've barely left the city. I feel like I'm already cooking alive."
Leon smiled, amused, enjoying his friend's drama.
"That's what swimming pools are for."
"Swimming pools are giant human soups."
"You're unbearable."
"And yet you still love me."
Leon felt a small, violent mental short circuit. Mathias was still staring straight ahead, completely calm, as if he hadn't just uttered a casual remark capable of destroying his entire nervous system in a second.
"You've got quite the ego," Leon muttered, trying his best to sound normal and hide his flushed cheeks.
Mathias smiled slightly, pleased.
"Enough."
There was a brief, comfortable silence amid the noise of the car before Mathias spoke again, using a noticeably softer tone.
"That's what friends are for, Leon." His gray eyes reflected something warm for a brief moment. "To suffer together."
Leon let out a soft laugh.
"How poetic. I'm going to cry."
"I'm serious." The crooked smile reappeared on Mathias's face. "Through thick and thin... and through the monumental screw-ups we're sure to cause this week."
Leon let out a clean, loud laugh.
"Hey, we're not that disastrous," he raised a hand in protest. "We have a certain style."
Mathias slowly turned his head toward him with a phlegmatic expression that clearly said, "Are you even listening to the utter nonsense you just spouted?"
"Leon."
"What?"
"The last time Joachim organized a night out, we ended up getting kicked out of a karaoke bar."
Leon opened his mouth to defend himself, but couldn't.
"And banned for a whole year," Mathias added.
Leon held up a finger, searching for a technical argument.
"That was Sara's fault, technically."
"Sara just broke a microphone."
"Because it was defective!"
"Leon," Mathias looked at him for a full second before turning his gaze back to the road. "Joachim was belting out old reggaeton like he was having his wisdom teeth pulled without anesthesia."
Leon recalled the pathetic scene and let out a treacherous laugh.
"Well… yeah, he was yelling pretty loud."
"Pretty loud is an understatement." Mathias paused dramatically, in his own unique way. "A stray dog started howling outside the bar in sheer agony."
Leon doubled over with laughter in the passenger seat.
"It wasn't that bad!"
"The manager seemed to be seriously considering calling a priest for an exorcism."
"Over the top."
"The karaoke bar lost at least three tables of customers that night."
"Liar!"
"A couple from the corner left crying."
"Because they were arguing before Joachim even started!"
"And Joachim made matters worse by belting out a Daddy Yankee song."
Leon covered his face with his hands, shaken by the laughter.
"Oh my God..."
"Exactly."
Leon tried to regain his composure, wiping away a tear.
"Well... but now there aren't any karaoke bars nearby at the hotel," he said with rather forced optimism.
Mathias remained silent for a few seconds. That, coming from him, was never a good sign.
"No," he finally replied in a dry, calculating tone. "Now we're on our way to a five-star hotel where that damn idiot will have free access to a minibar and a deep pool."
Leon paused for about two seconds. He pictured Joachim drunk, near deep water, and probably convincing Sara to do something completely illegal or stupid. His smile slowly faded.
"...Shit."
Mathias nodded with absolute, almost funereal, gravity.
"God help us."
"Amen."
Finally, Leon found Joachim's contact and pressed the call button. The phone hadn't even rang three times before the line abruptly opened.
"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, YOU TWO MISSING BODIES?!"
Joachim's voice blasted through the speakerphone with such force that Leon immediately yanked the phone away from his ear, as if a military grenade had just gone off in his hand. Mathias also grimaced in pain.
"Good Lord," Mathias muttered, exasperated. "Does that idiot always shout, or did he decide to compete directly with the earthquake alarms today?"
"Hello to you too, you piece of trash," Leon answered the phone, trying to recover his hearing in his right ear.
"BELMONT!" Joachim roared on the other end of the line. "We've been melting in this goddamn sun for half an hour, and Sara's already started threatening innocent civilians!"
"Good Lord," In the background, Sara's shrill voice could be clearly heard:
"Because THAT KID gave me a dirty look!"
"HE WAS FIVE YEARS OLD, SARA!" Elisabetha shouted from somewhere nearby, trying to restore order.
"AGE DOESN'T EVEN CURE HIM TO BE RUDE!"
Leon let out a hearty laugh, caught up in the chaos. Mathias, on the other hand, closed his eyes for a second, completely resigned to his fate.
"Here we go again..."
"Relax, princess, don't let your makeup run," Leon teased, needling Joachim. "We're almost there."
"Makeup, my foot! It's 32 degrees Celsius with a heat index of 38. I'm melting, you idiot!"
"That makes it even more worrying."
Joachim completely ignored the comment, too busy suffering because of the weather.
"Where the hell are you?"
Leon looked up at the path. In the distance, silhouetted against the sunset sky, the enormous ornamental trees of the main entrance and part of the luxurious sign for the meeting park were already visible.
"Just around the corner," Leon replied. "Five minutes and we'll be there with you."
"You'd better be. If you take six, I swear on my life I'm going to eat your chocolates!"
Leon's eyes widened, genuinely horrified by the threat.
"Don't you dare, you starving wretch."
"The heat gives me food cravings!"
"That's not even a thing!"
"Of course it is!"
In the background, Sara's shouting, losing her temper, cut through again:
"Joachim, stop yelling into the phone or I'll throw you in the fountain by the entrance!"
"YOU CAN'T KILL ME BEFORE THE HOLIDAYS EVEN START!"
"Elisabetha, please tell me you packed extra patience," Leon said, laughing, amused by the background noise.
Elisabetha's always calm and elegant voice immediately came into view near the microphone.
"I brought strong painkillers. It was the most realistic thing to do considering the group."
Mathias let out a nasal laugh, approving of his friend's comment.
"Smart woman."
"Thanks, Mathias. You're the only one here with an ounce of common sense."
"I know."
"Hey, stop flattering yourselves intellectually and HURRY UP!" Joachim roared again, interrupting the moment of brilliance.
Leon shook his head, thoroughly amused by the situation.
"Start picking up your junk from the sidewalk. We'll be there in a jiffy."
"You'd better!"
The call ended abruptly, leaving a buzz in the air. For a full second, there was absolute, peaceful silence inside the car. And then, Leon started laughing again, unable to contain himself.
"God... we haven't even unloaded the suitcases and I already feel like this is going to end terribly."
"'Bad' is too optimistic a word for the apocalypse that's coming," Mathias replied in his usual funereal tone.
Leon put the phone in his pocket and turned to face him, flashing a bright smile, full of pure excitement and summer adrenaline.
"Well... the circus has officially begun." He settled more comfortably in the passenger seat. "Ready for summer, Cronqvist?"
Mathias barely gripped the leather steering wheel and revved the engine a little more, the air conditioning still blasting directly in their faces.
"No," he replied with absolute, brutal honesty. "But at least the car's air conditioning is still working." His gray eyes narrowed dramatically as he spotted the hotel entrance. "Let's enjoy it while it lasts, because in five minutes I'll be trying to survive in hostile weather."
Leon burst out laughing.
"You look like a Victorian vampire about to be exposed to sunlight."
"Because I basically am, only I'm missing the fangs and vampiric powers."
"Exaggerated."
"Leon, we're entering tropical hell."
"It's a five-star hotel, Mathias."
"With criminal humidity."
"What a tragedy."
Mathias pointed at him briefly with a finger before returning both hands to the steering wheel to park.
"When you find me dead by the pool from heatstroke, I just want you to give me a proper funeral."
Leon smiled broadly, leaning his head back.
"Of course. I'll put on the saddest music I can find and tell everyone you fell heroically in battle fighting off a UV ray."
"And I want black flowers. Lots of them."
"How dramatic you are, for God's sake."
"I just want a modicum of aesthetic coherence in my death."
Leon ended up laughing so hard he had to wipe away a tear that had escaped his face.
And as the car finally rolled into the driveway, surrounded by the warm, golden glow of summer and the impending youthful mayhem that awaited them just a few feet away, Leon felt something strange. For the first time in many weeks, his fear of the future had completely dissipated. His heart was beating strongly, but it was no longer from sadness. He felt, with absolute certainty, that everything in his life was exactly where it should be.