Julian had been the one to take the leap. He'd asked Joaquin for a kiss. For his touch. And here, they've found themselves at a crossroads once more.

As a child, it was unbearable to lose his closest friend. Losing him, as both a friend and a lover, was worse. It nearly broke him to no repair. He can't even imagine going through that again.

So, hearing Joaquin's plea? Fear undeniably gnaws at Julian. What if it falls apart? He'd be left in the dust, mourning Joaquin. Mending his broken heart. Again. Where would he find the strength to survive that the third time?

Yet, as he gazes at Joaquin now—open, helpless, and genuine—Julian knows not giving this another shot would be a stupid decision. Should he walk away from what they might still become, it would haunt him for a lifetime.

"We don't have to be exclusive," Joaquin says, piercing his train of thought. "If you... if you want to keep seeing other people. Like that sad excuse for a guy—"

Julian shoots him a glare. "That was Ate Myka's pick. Not mine," he groans defensively. "I went on two dates with him. Two! And he became weirdly obsessed."

"I can't blame him," Joaquin murmurs with a low chuckle, a corner of his lips curving upward. "We haven't even gone on one date, and look at me. I'm obsessed."

An intense redness climbs like a growing flame from Julian's collarbones to his cheeks and all the way to his temples. His heart thuds against his chest, and he's convinced Joaquin could hear it. Unable to hold his gaze, he averts his eyes and retorts, "Smooth talker. Is this your way of saying you want to be non-exclusive so you can keep your options open?"

The smile fades. "No, I don't want that." Joaquin skims a thumb along the tip of Julian's earlobe. "I'll only date you. But I'm saying you can. I won't stop you."

Julian frowns. "Do you hear yourself right now?"

"It's just... so it'd be fair."

The crease on Julian's face worsens into a full scowl, his muscles stiffening at the ridiculous suggestion. "How could you say that? It hurt me. So much that I chose to end it. Me. Who held onto you even if you weren't replying to my letters. The one who latched on and didn't let go. And I did because it was more difficult for me to watch and stay quiet." He exhales, rolling onto his back. "I can never hurt you like that. Never."

Joaquin's breath catches as he sniffles, wiping his nose. How could he ever compensate for the pain Julian had endured? From the beginning, Julian had always been the giver; he'd always taken.

His voice cracks. "Then tell me what to do. How can I even begin to make it up to you?"

"Why do you have to do anything? What's the point?" Julian scoffs. "Besides, wouldn't you be jealous? If you wouldn't be, then how's that fair—"

"Are you serious?" Joaquin cups Julian's cheek, his brown irises growing dimmer. "I could only keep it together because you said you didn't invite that creep."

"Eh? Really?" Julian scoots even closer, poking Joaquin's waist and making him fidget and chortle. "Is that why you got pissed and threatened to sue?"

"I didn't threaten to sue. I threatened to represent you," Joaquin clarifies, grinning. "If you decided to press charges."

"Tomato, to-mah-to."

"That doesn't apply here. A plaintiff is different from—"

"Ssh," Julian interrupts, flashing a toothy smile. "Nerd."

Joaquin sighs but mirrors the amusement on Julian's lips. They cackle with delight, the sound rebounding off the walls and clinging to the air. It's liberating.

Joaquin hasn't been this happy—weightless—since the very first time their lips had collided and changed everything. Tonight, however, he's certain of what he wants, and it's right here in front of him.

Friends? Non-exclusive? What a load of bullshit. He's actually relieved Julian didn't agree to the latter. He meant that he wanted to be fair. To atone for his sins. But he also spewed that out impulsively. What would he have done if Julian said yes and went out with someone else? He'd die of jealousy.

He'd been a fool once. When they were younger, he supported Julian in pursuing Alexander, convincing himself that it was what a good friend would do. He acted like a martyr. An ever-reliable shoulder to cry on. But that chapter had closed, and he wouldn't make the same error twice.

Joaquin's not who he used to be. He'll hold onto Julian with everything he has.

Turning to face Joaquin, Julian perches his cheek on a closed fist and gazes at him with confidence. "I mean it. You don't need to dwell on the past. It's behind us. We need to focus on where we are now, and where we're going."

"Alright," Joaquin replies. His therapist had told him that, too. To be lenient with himself. But it still doesn't feel right, even now. He switches the subject. "Looks like you've now missed your chance to punish me."

Julian's eyebrows knit together as he processes the words, and then he reddens, looking away.

"What's with that reaction? What're you thinking?"

"I'm not thinking about anything!" Julian snaps, too loud to be persuasive.

"Ah, Julian. You're kind of a pervert, aren't you?"

Julian glowers at him, sitting up abruptly. "That's it. I'm leaving."

Joaquin clutches his arm and tackles him onto the bed. "Just kidding!"

"Watch your mouth," Julian warns, pouting.

"Okay. But honestly, no judgment here."

"I said—!"

"You can be kinky."

"Joaquin!"

******

For the first time in weeks, Julian dozes off without a care in the world. He wakes up to his alarm, stretching lazily, then shuts it off. He glances at the wall clock. 6 AM. A smile forms on his lips.

Joaquin had unwillingly escorted Julian back around midnight after failing to convince him to return to his flat after grabbing his clothes. When Julian declined, he made a counteroffer to stay at Julian's place instead. He said no again.

The nerve of him to call him a pervert!

It's not as though Julian is an unblemished saint when it comes to... intimate relations. He's had his fair share of experiences—one boyfriend, several flings. They were decent, but one of the flings preferred being the bottom, which made them incompatible. The others fizzled out. The boyfriend? Smart. Funny. Nice. But Julian ultimately realized that he hadn't moved on from Joaquin, and they amicably went their separate ways.

Anyway, after how things had gone last night, Julian's looking forward to fulfilling their promise of exploring together. Though he has to admit, the way Joaquin had mentioned punishing him prevails in his mind, making Julian blush again.

Fine. Maybe Julian has a tiny perverted streak. Joaquin can suck it up!

Julian is tugging his shirt over his head when he hears a knock on the door. He sniggers.

Hm. Someone's needy.

But when he opens the door, his witty greeting dies in his throat. Standing there is Joaquin in a gray three-piece suit, complete with thick-frame glasses and a polished pair of oxford shoes.

"Good morning."

"Oh, uh. Good morning."

"Brunch?"

"Yeah, sure."

He's still not the needy one.

When they reach the elevator, Joaquin presses the button for the lobby. Julian inclines his head a bit. "Why...?"

"We're walking."

"You're kidding? You might roast in that suit."

"It's February, Julian, and it's actually a nice day outside."

True to Joaquin's word, the sun is shining brightly, yet it's not as hot, with clear blue skies devoid of scattered clouds. Julian walks alongside Joaquin, attentive to the occasional glances from oncoming strangers.

They drop by a small, cozy cafe tucked away in an alley, just off the block from their office building. Joaquin orders a cup of Americano for himself, black tea for Julian, and two raspberry scones.

"Thanks," Julian says, sipping from his cup. "It's my first day here. I always get my tea from the office cafe."

"Do you like that place? We can go there next time."

"It's convenient, that's all." Then, he chews on the inside of his cheek, eyeing Joaquin, as old questions unexpectedly reemerge.

"Just ask," Joaquin encourages, swallowing a chunk of scone.

Julian smiles appreciatively.

"I'm curious. Why are you in Jimenez? Why criminal defense? I... I didn't peg you as someone who'd want to protect suspects instead of the victims." He flails his hand, panicking. "I'm not criticizing you, but the way! I'm just really... surprised."

Joaquin takes a slow sip of his coffee, his eyes darting to the window. "I should've known you would be interested. Don't worry. I'm flattered." He shifts in his seat, crossing one leg over the other.

"I had a brother. The one who adopted me. He was just fifteen at the time, but he took care of me and the other kids. Kids who were all younger than him.

"His name was Anton. He could read and write, after having been left at an orphanage when he was about eight. He taught us. That's why I didn't grow up illiterate. Even though we lived in the slums, he found a way to send me to a public school. He worked as a garbage collector and sold scraps so we could eat."

A slight tremor sneaks into Joaquin's voice. "Of course, that wasn't enough. So, he... committed a crime. Sold drugs. It was his first time, and he did it with a group, but he was the only one who couldn't get away."

His unfocused gaze drops to the table. "I couldn't go to school that week. I kept waiting for him. My class advisor came to our apartment, learned what happened, and reported it to social welfare services. That's how I ended up in Romblon. Somehow, they'd found out about my family."

Julian's knees draw together as a rush of emotions shakes him to his core. He'd been so arrogant, assuming that he understood Joaquin, yet he hadn't even scratched the surface.

"Is he incarcerated right now...?"

"I missed the important part, huh?" Joaquin mutters under his breath, a bitter edge to his voice. "He was shot to death during the operations by the police. They said he fought back. Because self-defense made it justified to kill."

Julian's chest tightens. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you. You're the only one who knows, besides my Dad, my therapist, and Alex," Joaquin says ruefully. "Human rights organizations worked to get my brother's name cleared. He wasn't the only victim of extrajudicial killings, after all. The drug war was in full swing, leaving so many casualties. The officer involved was brought to trial, but I felt like the defense didn't even try. He was found not guilty." He grins wryly. "Sorry, you're gonna call me a nerd again, but you'll have to bear with me."

Julian musters a hollow smile. "Go ahead."

"First off, let me make something clear," Joaquin states. "I'm at Jimenez for the experience. Because they handle the most high-profile and challenging cases, and that's what I'm after. I couldn't care less about the money. My goal is to work at PAO, but I need to learn more before I get there."

"PAO?"

"The Public Attorney's Office," he expounds firmly. "I am not saying that what he did was moral. It was a crime. But no matter what, he had the right to a fair trial, and he was deprived of that. And where's the leader of the cartel? Splurging money. Finding another poor person to sell their products for them.

"Julian, it's going to be my job to defend the accused who cannot afford to hire lawyers from places like Jimenez. To prove their innocence. And even if they're guilty, it'll be my responsibility to reduce their sentence to what's most appropriate. What they deserve."

His elbows press into his thighs as he hunches forward, fingers woven together. Joaquin's eyes burn. "What is just."

******

A/N: As always, if you're familiar with my writing, you would know how much I try to incorporate real-life, socio-cultural, and political issues. After all, I do not intend to write for the sole purpose of fun (I do have fun!), but I also would like to inform.

Anyhow, thanks for reading up to this point! This had become a serious chapter, but I also want to highlight Joaquin's motivations as a character. He's absolutely one of my favorites. xx