Leave Me Alone, Big Brothers! [BL]-Chapter 117: Sorry, for Loving You.

Nathan stared at Zsne, his heart doing a weird rhythmic drumbeat against his ribs.

"You’re making that... for me?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper, filled with a hope he couldn’t hide.

Zane went quiet. He looked down at his feet, then out the window, his jaw tight. It looked like he was having a full-scale war with himself, deciding whether to lie or lean into the truth.

"I wanted to give it to you as a Valentine’s gift," Zane finally said, his voice low and incredibly vulnerable. "But I couldn’t finish it. I haven’t picked up a brush in... a long time. My hands felt so stiff, like they forgot how to draw. I got frustrated. That’s why I just gave you the watch. I’m sorry... I felt like a failure giving you something I just bought instead of something I actually made."

Nathan felt a pang of genuine guilt. He thought about the watch, the expensive, thoughtful watch Zane had given him, and then he looked at the covered canvas.

"What? Zane, the watch is amazing," Nathan said, stepping closer. "But this? This is... I can’t believe you even tried to paint again for me. Please finish it. I don’t care how long it takes. I want to see it."

He looked down and noticed several other discarded canvases scattered near the wall, some with nothing but jagged lines of paint. Zane had really been struggling.

"Make it the worst painting in history," Nathan said, his voice soft and pleading. "Make me look like a potato. I don’t care. I would be so proud to hang that in my room. Please, Zane. Don’t stop." 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

Zane finally looked up. He wasn’t looking at the canvas, though. He was looking at Nathan. The light from the window hit Nathan’s face, highlighting the genuine, slightly desperate expression in his eyes. He looked adorable, there was no other word for it, and the proximity was starting to make the air in the room feel very thin.

Zane looked away quickly, his ears turning a bright shade of red.

Nathan sighed, feeling a different kind of shame now. "Now I feel like a total jerk. You’re over here having an existential crisis over a painting you’re making for me, and you gave me a freaking watch... and I just have some store-bought chocolate for you."

He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He had planned to keep the chocolate hidden, maybe eat it himself in a fit of self-pity later. He just wanted to cheer Zane up.

Zane’s head snapped back toward him, his brow furrowed. "Chocolate? What chocolate? Where is it?"

Nathan’s eyes went wide. "Ah... I mean... forget about that."

"You didn’t give it to me," Zane said, his voice dropping an octave. There was a sudden, playful but intense shift in his energy.

"Well, I just felt it wasn’t appropriate! You gave me something fancy, and I just... I felt cheap, okay?"

But Zane wasn’t listening to the excuses. He moved with a sudden burst of speed toward Nathan’s bag, which was still sitting on the floor near the sofa.

"No! Zane, stop it!" Nathan scrambled after him, trying to cut him off.

Zane was faster. He reached in, opened the bag, and pulled out the only box inside. A small, rectangular golden box with a blue ribbon.

"Is this for me?" he asked, a triumphant, boyish grin breaking through his usual brooding mask.

"Zane! Give it back! I’ll get you something better, I swear!" Nathan lunged for the box, his hands grabbing at Zane’s wrists.

"Nope. Too late. I saw it. I like it already," Zane chuckled, holding the box high above his head. He was taller, and he knew it.

They began a clumsy, frantic shuffle around the small space between the bed and the desk. Nathan was laughing now, a breathless, frustrated sound, as he jumped to reach the chocolate. He grabbed Zane’s shirt to pull him down, but his foot caught on one of the discarded canvases on the floor.

"Whoa—"

Nathan’s weight pulled Zane off balance. They stumbled together, Zane’s arms instinctively wrapping around Nathan to break the fall, and they both collapsed onto the sofa.

The world went still.

The chocolate box thudded softly onto the cushions. Nathan was pinned between the back of the sofa and Zane’s chest. Their faces were inches apart. He could feel the heat radiating off Zane’s skin, could smell the cinnamon in his scent, and could see the way Zane’s pupils were blown wide, dark and pulsing.

The laughter died in Nathan’s throat. His heart wasn’t just drumming anymore, it was thundering, a heavy thump-thump that he was sure Zane could feel through their clothes. Nathan took a shaky breath, his gaze dropping to Zane’s lips and then back to his eyes.

Zane didn’t move away. Instead, he leaned in, just a fraction of an inch. His gaze was intense, searching, and filled with a question he didn’t have the words to ask.

Nathan’s pulse skyrocketed. He didn’t pull back. He leaned his head back slightly against the cushion, a silent invitation, his eyes fluttering half-closed as he waited for the distance to vanish.

Just as the world seemed to narrow down to the space between their lips—

Almost...

But then... "Oh... I’m sorry."

The door was wide open. Ben stood there, holding a tray with two glasses of juice and a plate of sandwiches. He froze, his expression a mixture of professional neutrality and extreme awkwardness.

The spell shattered instantly.

"Shit!" Zane scrambled off Nathan so fast he nearly fell off the sofa. He stood up, smoothing his shirt with trembling hands, his face a shade of purple-red that Nathan had never seen before.

Nathan sat up, his hair a mess, looking everywhere but at Ben. He felt like his brain had short-circuited. "Ben. Hey. We just slipped."

Ben cleared his throat, setting the tray down on the desk with a clink. "Don’t worry, Nathan. Sometimes we slip. It’s normal. My apologies for the interruption."

He turned on his heel and exited the room, closing the door with a soft, pointed click. Zane caught the mischievous smile from the young chef.

"Shit..." Zane muttered, his breath still racing.

The silence that followed was deafening. Nathan looked at the chocolate box on the sofa. Zane looked at the white cloth covering the easel.

"So," Nathan said, his voice cracking. "You... uh... want a sandwich?"

Zane let out a long, shaky breath, finally looking at Nathan with an embarrassed expression.

The tension was still there. They didn’t know what they were doing. It felt as if they had just made a fatal mistake. Both of them stayed silent.

But half an hour later, Zane finally broke the silence. "Sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you. I think I was just too excited. Sorry... for loving you."