The sound of the train grew louder as it approached, but neither of them moved. Ren could feel his heart hammering in his chest, each second heavier than the last. The moment felt unreal, fragile, as if one wrong word could shatter it all.
Yuki stood there, his back straight, not looking at him, but not leaving either. It was like he was waiting for something. Waiting for Ren to say the one thing he hadn’t yet.
“I don’t know what to do now,” Ren said quietly, his voice shaking more than he intended. “I’ve spent so long pretending that I didn’t feel the same. That I wasn’t scared of this, of you.”
Yuki turned, finally looking at him. His face was unreadable, but his eyes — there was a softness there now, the edge of something real. He stepped closer, just a fraction, his gaze never leaving Ren's.
“What do you mean?” Yuki asked, voice low. His breath formed a cloud in the cold air between them, but it wasn’t the chill of distance anymore.
“I’m scared,” Ren whispered, words slipping out before he could stop them. “I’m scared that this is just me finally admitting it. That it won’t change anything. That even if I say it, you’ll walk away.”
Yuki shook his head, a faint, bitter smile curling at the corners of his lips. “The right reasons?” he repeated, his voice barely above a breath. “You think I’m staying because it’s convenient? Because it’s easy? I’ve been running from this for years. For years, Ren.”
Ren’s breath caught in his throat, everything inside him stilled. It wasn’t that Yuki didn’t want him — it was the opposite. Yuki had been waiting too. And that realization hit Ren like a punch to the gut.
“Then why…” Ren’s voice cracked, but he forced himself to continue. “Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t we do this sooner?”
Yuki's eyes softened, his gaze shifting to the ground before looking back up at Ren. “Because I was terrified of losing you,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “I thought if I said it, it would scare you away. And maybe I was right to be scared.”
The sound of the approaching train was almost deafening now, a reminder that time was running out.
“I never wanted to push you away,” Yuki said, stepping closer once more. “But I was scared. I’m still scared.”
Ren’s heart was racing, but there was a new sense of clarity in his chest, a weight lifting that he hadn’t even realized was there.
“Then don’t be,” Ren whispered, his hand reaching out to gently touch Yuki’s arm. The touch was tentative at first, but when Yuki didn’t pull away, Ren let his fingers trace up to his shoulder, grounding himself in the warmth of his skin. “You’re not alone in this. I’m scared too, Yuki. But I’d rather be scared with you than without you.”
Yuki looked at him, eyes searching Ren’s face, as if trying to see if he really meant it. After what felt like an eternity, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“You still want this?” Yuki asked, voice barely above a whisper, the question lingering between them like an unspoken promise.
Ren nodded slowly, his hand tightening ever so slightly around Yuki’s sleeve.
“I do.”
Yuki didn’t say anything at first, but the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease, the doubt that had been clouding his features slowly melting away. He took a small step closer, and this time, there was no hesitation.
“Stay with me,” Yuki murmured, his hand gently cupping Ren’s cheek. It was a quiet plea, a promise without words, and his gaze held the weight of everything he hadn’t said until now.
Without waiting for an answer, Yuki leaned in, their lips meeting in a kiss that was soft, unhurried — a quiet promise of everything they’d been too afraid to say. Ren responded almost instantly, the kiss deepening as he pulled Yuki closer, a sense of peace finally settling between them.
As the train passed by, the world seemed to hold its breath for just a moment. And for the first time in years, neither of them felt the need to run.
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