Saval nudged the front door shut with his shoulder, one hand still buried in his pocket, the other clutching a half-empty water bottle. The silence of the house pressed down on him the moment he stepped inside. Alone. No distractions this time.
He set the bottle on the table, collapsed onto the couch, and lay there motionless, staring at the ceiling.
They kissed.
It finally happened.
It hadn't been an accident. Not some impulsive slip. It was a moment… shared. He'd seen it in Semiel's eyes—the same cocktail of fear, want, and surprise. And yet, now that he was alone, his heartbeat steadier, his mind began flooding with questions.
—Now what? —he whispered to the air, as if the house might answer.
He didn't regret it. No. But that didn't make anything simple. He wanted him, yes. Cared about him deeply. Knew him better than anyone. But putting a name to it… that froze him.
It wasn't just about Semiel. It was about himself. What it would mean. How it would ripple through everything else—college, their friends, the people who followed him. Which reminded him of something else.
The streams.
He hadn't gone live consistently in weeks. The last one had been with Semiel, and they'd had fun, but something had felt off. Not the game, not the audience—him. Disconnected. Like part of himself was paused, waiting to resolve something before he could sit in front of the mic again without feeling strange.
Maybe… maybe he'd been avoiding it because his personal life felt messy. How could he entertain others when he didn't even know what he was doing?
He dragged a hand down his face, pressing hard at his eyes.
Thought of Semiel.
His shy smile after the kiss. The quiet they'd shared. How they hadn't talked about it yet. And still, something had shifted. He could feel it.
—I need to talk to him, —he murmured.
And maybe… to himself, too. Because what he felt wouldn't vanish just by ignoring it. It kept pulsing—every time he thought of him, every time he remembered Semiel laughing when things went wrong in Minecraft, or how serious he got when they talked about important things. Every time he watched him without him noticing.
Saval pushed himself up slowly, elbows on his knees. Grabbed his phone and opened the streaming app.
Dozens of unanswered messages. People asking if he was okay, if he'd be back soon. Some missed the morning streams; others just wanted to see him and Semiel goof off again.
—We could come back together, —he said aloud—. Little by little.
He didn't have to figure everything out at once. He could start small. A short stream. Just talking. He could be himself, no forcing it. And if Semiel wanted, they could share that space too.
But first… he had to know where they stood.
He typed:
—You awake?
Then deleted it.
No, something else.
—Did you get home okay?
Saval smirked but erased that too.
Better text him tomorrow.
Maybe what came next wouldn't be easy. Maybe they'd have to talk through uncomfortable things. But he wasn't alone.
And for the first time in weeks, the thought of going live didn't feel like a weight.
It felt… like a possibility.
One of many.