Ch. 15: Quite Things that Say I Love You

The weirdest thing about being with Kael wasn't the kisses, or the way his fingers fit perfectly between Riven's.

It was how normal it felt.

Like waking up next to him, brushing their teeth side by side, arguing over which mug belonged to who—it all felt like they'd been doing it for years.

Not just weeks.

Riven wasn't used to peace. His world had always been chaos: fighting with his mom's boyfriends, switching apartments every six months, burning bridges before they could even hold weight.

But with Kael?

It was… different.

He was different.

—

It started with a lazy Sunday.

Riven had been half-asleep on the couch when Kael appeared with two mugs of coffee—one black, one with milk and too much sugar. Kael didn't even ask anymore; he just knew.

"Drink," Kael said, nudging Riven's foot with his knee.

"You trying to poison me?"

"If I were, I'd use arsenic. This is just caffeine and care."

Riven smirked, taking the mug. "You're cute when you're annoying."

Kael flopped beside him and tugged the blanket over both of them. "And you're annoying when you're cute."

"I'm always cute."

"Shut up."

They watched reruns of old anime with no subtitles. Kael made up ridiculous translations. Riven snorted coffee through his nose when one character screamed, "WHERE'S MY LEFT SHOE, YOU EMOTIONAL BITCH?!"

Later, Riven cooked lunch.

He didn't know much—just garlic fried rice and scrambled eggs, but Kael kissed the back of his neck like Riven had cooked him a five-star meal.

"You know," Kael said, mouth full, "I could get used to this."

Riven turned, one brow raised. "Used to what?"

"This. Us. The... waking up and falling asleep thing. The domestic bull—wait, are you blushing?"

"Shut the fuck up, no I'm not."

Kael grinned. "You are."

"I'll pour soy sauce in your coffee."

"You wouldn't."

"Watch me."

—

That afternoon, they went grocery shopping.

Together.

It shouldn't have meant anything—but it did.

Kael pushed the cart lazily while Riven picked out vegetables and argued about cereal brands.

"Chocolate Crunch is better," Kael insisted.

"Chocolate Crunch is cardboard lies. Cinnamon Burst reigns supreme."

Kael tossed a box of Chocolate Crunch into the cart anyway. "We'll settle this like adults."

"With a cereal taste test?"

"No. With violence."

Riven tried to look annoyed. He failed.

At checkout, Kael covered the total with a simple "I got it," like it was no big deal.

Riven hesitated.

Kael noticed.

"It's okay," he said, quiet. "Let me take care of you sometimes."

Riven nodded, trying not to let it show how much that meant.

Because no one had ever said that to him before. Not and meant it.

—

Later that night, the storm came.

Rain drummed hard against the windows. The lights flickered once, but stayed on.

Riven stood by the window, watching water streak down the glass.

Kael came up behind him, arms slipping around his waist. His chin rested on Riven's shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just… storms make me feel small."

Kael held him tighter. "Then I'll be big enough for both of us."

Riven laughed, chest warm. "That was cheesy."

"You love it."

"I'm starting to."

They sat by the window, watching lightning flash across the sky. No TV. No noise. Just them and the world outside.

Kael's fingers traced shapes on Riven's arm—circles, stars, something like a heart.

And then he said, softly, "I used to hate quiet like this. It reminded me how alone I was."

Riven turned to face him. "Do you still feel alone now?"

Kael shook his head. "Not when I'm with you."

Riven kissed him.

Not rough. Not wild.

Just soft. Slow. Sincere.

The kind of kiss that said I'm not going anywhere.

And Kael kissed back like he believed it.

They made love that night—slow, with hands that didn't rush and kisses that lingered.

They whispered names like they were saying prayers.

And when it was over, they didn't move apart.

They stayed tangled in the sheets, Kael's hand resting over Riven's chest, feeling the steady beat.

"You're mine, right?" Kael whispered in the dark.

"Only yours," Riven whispered back. "Even when it scares the hell out of me."

"Good. Because I'm scared too."

And in that little apartment, beneath the same roof, two broken boys started to believe in something whole.

Together.