Julian hardly gets a wink of sleep, his body forcing him into brief, restless lapses of unconsciousness. If he weren't intoxicated, he'd have stayed up all night long thinking about the mess he and Joaquin had gotten themselves into. This time, it wasn't just a peck on the cheek that they'd be able to move on from. This time, their lips and tongues had tangled, their hands all over each other, exploring places they shouldn't.

They'd need to forget it all—the urgency and the passion. How good it felt.

And that's what disturbs him the most. Because it couldn't be easily dismissed as a one-time thing, a story they could both laugh about. The momentary lapse of judgment had caused a fissure in the foundation of their relationship.

He turns to his side, glancing at the clock. 8 AM. He needs to get moving soon. He's going home today for the term break and the holidays.

He groans. He doesn't have the energy to move.

Joaquin is supposed to be one of the permanent figures in life. Last night has eroded that prospect.

What the heck has gone wrong? They've just reunited, too. At what point did he start getting attracted to him? Or when did Joaquin?

Isn't he straight?

Wait. Joaquin has never discussed it with him; he just... assumed.

Julian grunts, picking up his phone on the nightstand. The screen lights up, and there are no new messages from Joaquin. Disappointed, he rests his head on the pillow, shutting his eyes as the night's events start to replay.

After Julian's question, Joaquin lowered his head. "I don't know," he mumbled. Julian got off him, his back pressing against the hard wall.

Minutes passed in excruciating silence, the indistinct sound from the television more grating than pacifying. Joaquin rose from the bean bag, staggering slightly. He ran his hand over his hair and said, "I'll... head out."

As he watched Joaquin move to the door, Julian's lungs cinched. If he let Joaquin leave without saying anything, it might really be over for them.

Joaquin examined his expression, and it pained him to see Julian so distressed. He felt the same apprehension, but tonight wasn't the time. Not when their emotions were running high, affected by the booze in their system. "We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" he reassured him tenderly.

"We will?" Julian asked, his vulnerability laid bare.

"Yes, I promise," Joaquin answered. "Julian, it's us."

Julian's lashes danced, his lips curling into an optimistic smile. "It's us."

With that, Joaquin departed the room, and Julian's gaze wandered to the space Joaquin had occupied.

Never once had he pictured this happening to them.

With a sharp exhale, Julian extracts himself from the bed. It is early. Maybe Joaquin's still sleeping? Instead of waiting and risking spiraling, he better do something with his time.

Joaquin begins to clean up, vacuuming the floor and throwing away the garbage into the bin. Once he's satisfied, he moves to his duffel bag, folding clothes and packing for his two-week vacation.

Julian pauses. His mother. Should he tell her about this? He's never kept secrets from her. But this... what would she think?

Lina has been supportive of his sexuality through and through, and she already treats Joaquin as her own. Would that make this easier?

He clicks his tongue, shoving his shirts into his bag.

Julian can't dwell on hypotheticals. First and foremost, he needs to set things straight with Joaquin and hear his opinion. Joaquin cares about his mother's feelings; he'd want a say in how to handle it. If they'd even mention it at all.

The canvas bag containing his art materials is the last to go on top of his clothes, his fingers lingering on its edges, and his heart pounds.

He wants to see Joaquin. Badly. The waiting game is killing him.

Julian hurries to the communal bathroom and takes a quick shower in one of the cubicles. He puts on his clothes impatiently, slinging his bag over his shoulder, then ties his shoelaces. Locking the door behind him, he fumbles for his phone, searching for Joaquin's name in his contact list.

"Julian."

The voice startles him, almost making him jump. But when his eyes land on Joaquin, his pulse calms down, and he slides his cell back into his pocket.

"J-Joaquin."

He doesn't look as well-rested as Julian had imagined, and as petty as it is, he feels consoled that he's not the only one who tossed and turned last night.

"Are you, uh, are you heading home?"

"Yeah."

"Can we talk first?"

Julian swallows, nodding his head.

Outside, Joaquin's car is parked on the street. Without a word, he takes Julian's duffel bag, hurling it into the backseat. Gesturing to the passenger side, he says, "Get in."

Once they're buckled in, Joaquin starts the ignition and drives away from the curb.

Julian keeps his eyes straight, his blood hammering in his ears. He fiddles with the stereo, trying to select a playlist just so he doesn't look like he wants to leap out of the car (he's actually considering that).

Unfortunately, he can only distract himself with the music for too long. Being in the cramped space reminds him of what he'd done. Getting on top of Joaquin. Initiating the kiss. Letting the hard-on die afterward even though all he wanted was to touch himself while thinking of him.

Julian can only take comfort that he had the sense to stop him before they ended up doing what they'd done in his dream. But that's it. The kiss has failed to be a mere learning endeavor.

It has stirred chaos.

"Brunch?" Joaquin suggests.

"Yeah, okay. I haven't eaten either."

"Take out?"

Julian clenches his fists. "Can we eat inside? Or, um, would it be hard to talk with people around—?"

"I'm just asking in case you're in a hurry to go home," Joaquin explains. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel..."

"No, I... I was defensive. I'm sorry, too. Everything's just..."

"I know," Joaquin interjects, sparing him the effort of finishing the thought.

Juliane exhales, "At least we agree on that."

Joaquin takes them to a small quaint cafe, the one he previously noticed on the way to Julian's house.

The chime of bells marks their entrance, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and pastries filling their olfactory senses. A waitress leads them to a table in the corner, enclosed by potted plants.

Julian concentrates on the menu as his knees shake under the table. He's not really hungry, but he knows he has to eat, or else he might feel dizzy later.

"Did you find something you like?"

"Uh, yeah. Just a cup of black tea and um, tuna melt," Julian replies, setting the menu aside, anxiety churning in his stomach.

Joaquin saunters to the cashier to place their order and then comes back with a number. He adjusts his glasses and shifts in his chair. "Okay, uh, I'm not sure where to start but I just... Last night... We were..."

"Drunk, yeah," Julian fills in. Sensing what's coming next, he utters, "So, it was a mistake? We shouldn't have done it?"

Joaquin frowns. "You think it was a mistake?"

Julian jerks back. "What? Isn't that what you think?"

"No," Joaquin replies quietly, chin dipped down, his hands flat on the table as if to steady himself. "I don't regret it. But... Our friendship. It's important to me."

"It's important to me, too."

He waited for Joaquin for so many years because he cared so much. How could he jeopardize everything?

The waitress sets down their order. Joaquin expresses his gratitude, handing Julian his utensils. With trembling hands, he accepts it, though still unsure if he can eat.

"Julian, please have some," Joaquin pleads. He doesn't know what else to say. He left the house wishing he'd find the answer while driving or when he finally saw Julian. But he's still as lost.

He just couldn't put it off, not after the way Julian looked at him when he said goodbye.

He had been so terrified.

Joaquin shares the same fear. He heaves a sigh, "What do you want to do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"How do you feel about me?"

Julian flinches, his grip on the utensils faltering, and they rattle against the plate. He definitely hadn't thought about that. "Well, I... You're important to me. And I like you. If I didn't I wouldn't have tried to be friends again—"

"So, friends?" Joaquin interrupts, his voice cracking.

"N-No! I mean... no? It's not like it was before. It's just... strange. You'd agree that this is strange, right? Like you said. It's us," Julian sips from his tea, hoping it would calm his nerves.

It does nothing for him.

Joaquin takes a bite of his crepe, chews, swallows, and then speaks, "It's strange. But we're already here. And you'd also agree that we cannot go back to what we were." Eyes locked onto Julian, he states, "I know I can't."

Julian's stomach lurches. "Joaquin, you know I just decided not to do any of this anymore... After what happened with Alex."

"What you felt for Alex," Joaquin mutters, leaning in. "Do you feel that for me?"

Another question he hadn't considered. Geez, why did he even think he could have a conversation with Joaquin? He doesn't have a clue what he's doing.

What he felt for Alexander was... the same for the other guys he'd liked. The butterflies, the tingly rush, the excitement in his chest. He enjoyed looking at them and listening to them speak. It was intense. An outburst of emotions he couldn't restrain.

With Joaquin... He's not sure what to call it. Since the very first day they met, he's had a constant pull toward him. He's thought about his well-being. He's wanted to keep him close, to understand everything about him. Though he now carries this potent yearning to touch him, it's always been a deeper feeling of wanting to care for him. To make sure he's okay.

It pained Julian when he left, and it pained him when he pushed him away.

Julian would die a third time if he lost him again.

"It's not the same." Julian reaches over to place his palm on top of his. "How could you compare yourself to anyone else? You're different."

Unsatisfied, Joaquin's eyebrows arch. "So, I am the best friend."

"Joaquin, please don't misunderstand. I like you. I wouldn't have... done that if I didn't." Julian blushes, pushing himself to continue. "I just think we need to tread lightly because this is a huge step for us. For you. Are you even... Do you know if you're..."

Joaquin pulls his hand away and covers Julian's with his. "Okay, okay. I get it." He lets him go. "I... I like women. I mean, I've never been in love with one, but... I just think I like men, too. I wanted to tell you that. It could change. Or maybe it won't. But this is how I feel right now."

"That's fine with me," Julian responds calmly. "I understand that. You don't have to figure this all out right away. I know it's a lot."

And it is a lot for Joaquin to process. He'd been indifferent to gay relationships, seen them as none of his business, and he'd taken that as him being unprejudiced. Not because he ever considered being in one himself.

His mind is in anarchy. Still, he has to say something to give Julian a sense of direction, somehow. He can't leave him hanging again.

"How about this? We'll see where this goes?" Joaquin proposes, his eyes searching Julian's. "Or... if you want, we can end this now. And we'll just... move on."

Julian drops his gaze to the table. "Is it all up to me? W-What do you think?"

"I want us to try," he states firmly. "But if you don't feel the same—"

"I want to!" Julian blurts out, tone rising, and he feels the heat rush to his face. "I just... I..."

"Okay." Joaquin's muscles loosen, the knots in his body gradually coming undone. "We'll take it slow."

******

Joaquin eases the car to a stop a block away from Julian's house, shifting it into park mode while leaving the engine running.

"So, uh, is Tita Lina home yet?"

"Not yet. She and Tito Randy are still at the church."

"Oh, right."

Julian removes his seatbelt, extending his arm to grab his bag. As he does, Joaquin rests his head on the steering wheel and gazes at Julian. "Tita Lina knows, right?"

"Yeah."

"What did she say? She's devout so..."

A small smile crosses Julian's lips. "She said, 'God had created humans in His likeness, so how could He not love you'?"

Joaquin mirrors his smile. "She's great."

Julian bobs his head, suppressing the rage that bubbles up as he pictures Joaquin's mother being the complete opposite. Tucking the thought away, he asks, "Are you worried about her?"

"A bit."

He's more worried about his father. His matchmaking efforts seem endless, and none of these potential partners have been someone of the same sex. Joaquin has also never heard him address these issues directly.

At most, his father's attitude might be like his own—focused only on his goals. Not knowing what he'd think frightens him.

He's getting another chill...

"You know she likes you."

Joaquin's nerves settle down at the reaffirmation. "Y-Yeah. But... it's different when it's about dating her son, I guess?"

Julian's complexion brightens. "Ah. Dating?"

The tips of Joaquin's ears redden. "Yeah? But since we're taking it slow... can we... um, not..."

"Yeah. We'll keep it between us. We'll take our time."

Joaquin gazes at Julian, and he doesn't fight the unfurling warmth in his chest, permitting himself to see him as more than just a friend.

More than just a kid he needs to take care of.

Julian has become someone he could imagine loving.

"Thank you."

******

A/N: Ah, communication. *wink* *wink* Also, the leads dating on Chapter 20?!?! WHAAAAAAT? Hahaha.