Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The waiting room of the studio was colder than Javon had anticipated—not because of the temperature, but because of the vibe. A line of young hopefuls occupied the worn-out couches, each hiding their dreams behind nervous expressions. Javon wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t nervous; he didn’t need to be. This wasn’t a boxing match, but the adrenaline he felt before stepping into the ring was still his driving force. What he hated the most was waiting. In the ring, there was no time to hesitate; here, time seemed to crawl.

He had come to Los Angeles for an important audition—his first big shot at a role that promised to launch him into the spotlight. He’d already made some noise as an actor and boxer, but he knew he needed more to solidify his name. Something big. Something that proved he wasn’t just “the gym kid.” The role in this new action movie seemed like the perfect punch.

He crossed his legs and checked his phone, scrolling through messages and notifications. A soft laugh interrupted his focus. He looked up. Across the room, a curly-haired blonde boy, his hair so light it seemed golden under the fluorescent lights, was flipping through a script, clearly not taking it seriously. Every few pages, he let out a small laugh, like he was reading some private joke. His relaxed aura was irritating, almost unbearable.

“Do you mind?” Javon said, his voice sharper than he intended.

The boy looked up, surprised but not offended. His eyes were a light blue that Javon couldn’t help but notice. “Golden boy,” he thought automatically. The guy had that perfect vibe, like he was used to things going his way without trying too hard.

“What?” the boy asked, with a lopsided grin. There was a hint of cheekiness in his tone—not aggressive, but definitely confident.

“That laugh,” Javon replied, leaning forward slightly, locking eyes with him. “Some of us are trying to focus here.”

The boy raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender, still smiling.

“Sorry, man. Didn’t know this was so serious.” He closed the script and leaned back in his seat, studying Javon. “You’re… Walton, right? Javon Walton?”

Javon raised an eyebrow. The guy looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place him.

“Yeah, and you are…?”

“Walker Scobell,” he answered, like the name alone was enough of an introduction. And it was. Now that Javon heard it, he remembered seeing him in that recent movie everyone seemed to love. “The time travel kid” or something like that. A young actor with good looks and a promising career.

“Ah, right. The sci-fi guy.”

Walker chuckled.

“Something like that. And you? Going for the fighter role? Because it doesn’t seem like there’s much acting needed in your case.”

“It’s an action role, not boxing,” Javon clarified, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Interesting.” Walker nodded as if evaluating something. “Then I guess we’re competing for the same thing.”

Javon frowned. “Competing” wasn’t the word he wanted to hear. He didn’t come here to lose.

Before he could respond, an assistant came out of the office, calling for Walker.

“Good luck,” Javon said, more out of politeness than genuine intent.

Walker stopped at the door and turned back, throwing him one last look.

“Don’t need luck, but thanks.” He winked and disappeared behind the door.

Javon watched the door close, feeling something new and strange. It wasn’t just competition; there was something about Walker he couldn’t quite define—something that unsettled him as much as it intrigued him.

He didn’t know this moment would be the first of many. The first round of something he wasn’t ready to face.

————————————-————————-

The audition had ended hours ago, but Javon couldn’t stop replaying it in his head. He had done well—he knew it. The director had nodded in approval a couple of times, and he had felt that spark of adrenaline that always accompanied him in important moments. Yet, he couldn’t shake Walker Scobell from his mind. There was something about him, something… irritating. That confident smile, that carefree attitude, as if nothing mattered, and yet he was good enough for everyone to notice.

That night, Javon decided to go for a run to clear his mind. He was used to releasing tension through exercise. The rhythm of his steps on the pavement, the sound of his controlled breathing, was his way of escaping. The lights of Los Angeles surrounded him, but he barely noticed them. All he could think about was Walker’s words before walking into the audition: “I don’t need luck.” What kind of person says something like that?

When he finally stopped in front of a convenience store to grab some water, he spotted a familiar figure stepping out of the store. Walker, with a bag of chips in one hand and a drink in the other, was heading toward a corner. He wore loose jeans and a hoodie that looked three sizes too big. Everything about him screamed “relaxed,” the complete opposite of the disciplined mentality Javon had always lived by.

Without thinking much, Javon crossed the street. Something inside him pushed him forward, like he needed to solve a question he didn’t even know he had.

“Stalking already?” Walker joked as he noticed Javon approaching. He had that same lopsided smile that irritated Javon so much.

“Please,” Javon replied sarcastically, stopping in front of him. “This is just a coincidence.”

“Sure it is. You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who leaves things to chance,” Walker said, taking a sip of his drink.

Javon ignored the comment, studying him in silence for a moment, trying to figure him out. He couldn’t understand why someone like Walker piqued his curiosity so much.

“How did the audition go?” he finally asked.

Walker shrugged.

“I think it went well. But I don’t lose sleep over it. Whatever’s meant to happen will happen.”

Javon scoffed. That laid-back attitude drove him crazy.

“That explains why you have time to wander around buying chips while others are putting in serious work.”

Walker laughed, like he had just heard the best joke of the day.

“Let me guess, you’re the type who trains until midnight and wakes up at five to run, right?”

Javon crossed his arms.

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, Rocky,” Walker said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “It’s just that not everyone lives in fight mode all the time.”

Javon felt the urge to argue but held back. Instead, he studied him for a moment longer. Walker was so opposite to him that he almost felt like an inverted mirror. Maybe that was what annoyed him the most. Or maybe, what intrigued him the most.

“You know what?” Javon said, turning to leave. “Maybe you should take something seriously for once.”

Walker watched him walk away, still smiling.

“And maybe you should relax a little!” he called after him.

Javon didn’t respond. Not because he didn’t have anything to say, but because, for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure what to think. There was something about Walker that made him feel… uncomfortable. But it wasn’t an unpleasant discomfort—it was something new, something unknown.

And Javon wasn’t sure if he wanted to face it.

———————————————————————

Javon didn’t expect to see him again so soon, but Los Angeles felt smaller than he had imagined. Two days after their awkward encounter at the convenience store, he ran into Walker at an event they had both been invited to. It was a party hosted by one of the producers working on the movie they had auditioned for. Javon had shown up because he knew these kinds of events were part of the business—not just about talent, but connections. And though he preferred the ring over the noise of a party, he was determined to play the game.

The place was packed with people: young actors, producers, and familiar faces from the industry. The lights were dim, the music pulsed against the walls, and the air smelled of expensive perfume and inflated egos. Javon felt like a fish out of water, but he knew how to keep his composure. His strategy had always been to observe first, talk later.

He stood by the bar, sipping on a glass of water with ice, when a familiar laugh cut through the ambient noise. That laugh. He turned his head, and there was Walker, standing in the middle of a small group, telling a story that seemed hilarious because everyone around him was laughing uncontrollably. Javon couldn’t help but notice it: Walker looked comfortable, natural, like he belonged there, like he didn’t have to try to attract attention.

“Of course, he’s here,” Javon thought, frowning. Something about him forced Javon to keep his eyes locked on Walker, as if trying to figure him out from a distance. But Walker noticed. Of course, he did. As if he had a radar for attention, Walker turned his head, his blue eyes meeting Javon’s across the crowd.

Javon thought Walker would look away, but he didn’t. Instead, he raised a hand in a casual wave, accompanied by that smile seemingly etched onto his face. Before Javon could decide whether to ignore him or wave back, Walker began walking toward him, leaving his group behind without hesitation.

“Stalking me again, or are you moonlighting as a bodyguard now?” Walker joked as he reached him.

Javon looked at him with that serious expression that usually intimidated people, but Walker didn’t flinch. He seemed immune to any attempt to assert authority over him.

“I’m only here because I was invited,” Javon replied, taking a sip from his glass.

“Oh, so we’re fellow invitees. How convenient,” Walker said, leaning against the bar with a carefree posture.

“What are you doing here?” Javon asked, cutting straight to the point.

Walker shrugged.

“Same as you, I guess. Meeting the right people, letting the right people notice me. Though, to be honest, I’m not really a fan of these things.”

Javon raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

“Doesn’t seem like you mind them too much.”

Walker laughed, shrugging again.

“It’s a game, Walton. You know how to play, don’t you? Keep smiling, be charming, make everyone believe you’re right at home. Even if you’d rather be home watching a movie.”

For the first time, Javon noticed something different in his tone. It was subtle, but there was something genuine in that confession—something that didn’t entirely match the carefree image Walker projected.

“Then why are you here?” Javon pressed, setting his glass down on the bar.

Walker leaned in slightly, as if he were about to tell him a secret.

“Because sometimes you have to play the game to win, even if you don’t like it.”

Javon couldn’t help but smile, just a little. Walker surprised him, though he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“You’re not as simple as you seem, are you?” Javon asked, crossing his arms.

Walker looked at him with a spark in his eyes, his lopsided grin more alive than ever.

“And you? Are you as tough as you look?”

The question hung in the air between them. For a moment, the noise of the party seemed to fade, as if they were the only two in the room. But before Javon could answer, someone called out to Walker from the other side of the room.

“Looks like I’m needed. See you around, Rocky.” Walker gave him a playful wink before disappearing into the crowd.

Javon stayed by the bar, unsure of what to think. Walker confused him. He was different from anyone Javon had ever met, and for some reason, he couldn’t get him out of his head.

Chapter Text

The following week, Javon received an unexpected call: an invitation to the second round of auditions. It wasn’t unusual in the industry, but the fact that it was being held on an actual set instead of a rehearsal room made everything feel more important. Excitement mixed with the usual tension; he knew he was closer to the role, but he also knew there’d be competition.

He arrived early at the location, a massive film set on the outskirts of Los Angeles. The atmosphere was chaotic but controlled: assistants rushing around with headsets, directors adjusting lights, and actors rehearsing their lines in every corner. Javon moved calmly, quickly adapting to the chaos. He had always known how to keep a cool head under pressure.

While he reviewed the script at one of the tables set up for the actors, he heard a voice he already recognized all too well. That mix of casualness and humor was unmistakable.

“Always so punctual, Rocky?”

Javon looked up, and there was Walker, walking in with his usual air of nonchalance, a backpack slung over one shoulder and a smile that seemed permanently etched on his face. He was wearing dark jeans and a worn leather jacket that, for some reason, suited him perfectly. Everything about him seemed effortless but carefully calculated.

“I’d rather show up early and do it right than be late and risk messing up,” Javon replied without looking at him much, turning his attention back to the script.

Walker dropped his backpack onto the table and sat across from him, completely ignoring personal space.

“Relax, man. No one’s going to steal the role if you keep up that boxer-on-a-mission attitude.”

“You’re the only one who seems to believe that,” Javon said, closing the script and meeting his gaze directly.

Walker grinned, like he enjoyed the challenge in Javon’s tone.

“You know, you should try smiling every now and then. It might actually make you more charismatic.”

Javon rolled his eyes, but before he could respond, a woman with a headset approached the group of actors. She held a clipboard and had the efficient expression of someone used to managing chaos.

“Javon Walton, Walker Scobell, we need you on the main set for a chemistry test. You’re up next for the scene,” she announced before disappearing as quickly as she’d arrived.

Walker raised an eyebrow, looking at Javon with an expression that blended amusement and curiosity.

“A chemistry test, huh? This could be fun.”

“Just do your job and don’t try to steal the spotlight,” Javon replied as he stood up from the table.

They crossed the set to a brightly lit area filled with reflectors. The director, an older man with thick glasses and a calm demeanor, was waiting for them alongside a camera crew. The scene they were about to perform was an intense argument between two characters with a simmering rivalry. It was perfect for them.

“All right, guys, here’s what I want to see,” the director began, looking at both of them. “This scene isn’t just about the dialogue; it’s pure tension. I want to feel like you’re both on the verge of exploding, but without actually hitting each other. It’s all in the words and the looks. Ready?”

Javon nodded, instantly slipping into professional mode. Walker, on the other hand, smiled and gave a small salute.

“Always ready, boss.”

They stood face to face, scripts in hand, though Javon barely needed his; he had already memorized the lines. As the camera started rolling, everything changed. Walker, who always seemed so relaxed, adopted a firm posture, his blue eyes hardening, and his voice turning sharp, almost cold.

“Do you always have to control everything?” Walker said, delivering his line with unexpected intensity.

“Someone has to if you can’t handle it,” Javon shot back, his tone full of challenge.

The exchange of lines became faster, like a verbal tennis match. They moved closer, their voices rising. Javon could feel Walker’s energy—it was so different from his usual laid-back demeanor, yet just as strong. It was as if they were truly at odds, as if this wasn’t just a scene.

When the director yelled, “Cut!” the set fell silent for a few seconds. Then, he started clapping.

“That’s exactly what I needed. Excellent work, both of you. Take a break.”

Walker immediately relaxed, his intense expression fading as his usual smile returned. He looked at Javon and patted him on the shoulder.

“Good job, Rocky. I almost thought you were actually mad.”

Javon didn’t respond right away. There was something about Walker that threw him off, like he could transform into someone else with an ease Javon didn’t understand. Finally, he simply said:

“I don’t let my guard down, Scobell. Not in the ring or here.”

Walker smiled, as if silently challenging him, before turning and walking off toward the snack table. Javon watched him for a moment, trying to figure out what it was about this guy that intrigued him so much.

But there wasn’t time to get lost in thoughts. He knew this wouldn’t be their last showdown. And for some reason, he wasn’t sure if that worried him or excited him.

—————

The set was quieter now that most of the actors had finished their tests. Javon was sitting on one of the sofas in the lounge area, holding a glass of water and staring at his phone. Despite trying to distract himself by checking messages or scrolling through social media, his mind kept drifting back to the scene he had just performed with Walker. It had been intense, more than he’d expected, and he couldn’t ignore the strange connection he’d felt amidst the tension.

He looked up just in time to see Walker returning from the snack table with a bottle of water and a pack of cookies. Without hesitation, Walker dropped onto the sofa beside him, so close their knees almost touched.

“You know,” Walker began, tearing open the pack of cookies casually, “you could thank me. I made you look good back there.”

Javon let out a heavy sigh, not even bothering to turn toward him.

“What are you talking about?”

Walker smiled as he bit into a cookie, chewing slowly before answering.

“Come on, Rocky. Let’s admit it—our chemistry in that scene was impressive. They’ve probably already got your name on the role. I just came along to make sure your performance looked solid.”

Javon set his glass down on the table in front of them and gave Walker a serious look.

“I don’t need anyone to ‘make me look good.’ I handle that on my own.”

“Ah, yes, the self-sufficient tough guy,” Walker said, raising his hands in mock surrender, still smiling. “Do you ever relax, or are you always on the verge of a fight?”

Javon didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he studied Walker carefully, as if trying to figure out what drove him to act this way. Walker had a unique ability to seem carefree, but there was something in his eyes—something Javon couldn’t quite figure out. It was as if that lightheartedness was a mask.

“Why do you care?” Javon finally asked.

Walker paused, surprised by the question. For a moment, his smile faded slightly, and something more genuine appeared in his expression.

“Because I think you’re interesting,” he said, shrugging. “Or at least, more interesting than most of the people here.”

Javon frowned, unsure of how to interpret that. It wasn’t the answer he had expected, and it definitely wasn’t something he knew how to handle.

“Interesting?” he repeated, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“Yeah,” Walker confirmed, leaning back on the sofa as he fiddled with the cap of his water bottle. “You’re like a puzzle. And, honestly, I like solving puzzles.”

Javon couldn’t help but let out a small, ironic laugh, though he quickly hid it.

“I’m not a puzzle. I’m just someone who knows what he wants and works to get it.”

Walker stared at him for a moment, as if evaluating that response. Then, he slowly nodded.

“That sounds good in theory, but I think there’s more to you than you let on.”

“And what would you know? You barely know me.” Javon crossed his arms, his tone defensive.

Walker smiled again, but this time his tone was softer.

“Maybe I don’t know you, but I’ve learned how to read people. And you… you’ve got something under that tough-guy exterior. Something you don’t want others to see.”

Javon felt something stir inside him but ignored it. He wasn’t about to let someone like Walker expose him, especially not in a place like this.

“Maybe you should worry less about reading others and more about yourself,” he replied coolly.

Walker didn’t flinch. Instead of getting upset, he simply nodded, as if considering the advice.

“Maybe you’re right. But the fun part about this is, I think we’re already more connected than you want to admit.”

Javon was about to respond, but before he could, one of the set assistants approached.

“Walker, the director wants to see you in the editing room to review the last take.”

Walker stood up without hurry, grabbing his water bottle and cookie pack. Before leaving, he glanced back at Javon.

“Catch you later, Rocky. Don’t work too hard trying to figure me out. I’ve already got the upper hand.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving Javon with more questions than answers. Javon stayed on the sofa, feeling like Walker hadn’t just crossed a line, but had managed to expose him in a way no one else ever had. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t know how to respond.

The only thing he knew was that Walker Scobell was turning out to be a far more complex challenge than he had anticipated.

—————————————————————————

Javon couldn’t shake the feeling of unease as he watched Walker disappear into the film crew’s chaos. There was something about his words, the way he always seemed one step ahead, that threw him off. That blonde boy had a special talent for getting under his skin, and that was something Javon wasn’t used to allowing.

He decided to leave the lounge and head to one of the dressing rooms to clear his mind. The space was dimly lit, with a large mirror surrounded by warm lightbulbs. On the table in front of the mirror sat a half-empty bottle of water and several stacked scripts. Javon sat down in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection as if trying to decipher his own thoughts.

The sound of a door opening broke his trance. Walker stepped inside unannounced, softly closing the door behind him.

“Running away, Rocky?” Walker asked, his signature smile firmly in place.

Javon glared at him through the mirror’s reflection, frowning.

“What do you want, Scobell?”

Walker raised both hands in an innocent gesture as he walked over to the sofa in the corner of the room.

“Nothing in particular. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t falling apart after my last verbal victory.”

Javon slowly turned in his chair to face him directly.

“Do you have a problem with staying out of my space, or do you just enjoy being irritating?”

Walker let out a laugh as he dropped onto the sofa, stretching his legs out comfortably.

“It’s more fun knowing I’m bothering you. Besides, let’s admit it—you’re not the only one playing this game.”

“I’m not playing anything,” Javon replied, crossing his arms.

Walker tilted his head slightly, as if analyzing him.

“Oh, but you are. You just don’t realize it. Every time you put up that tough-guy wall, every time you try to intimidate me with that serious glare, you’re showing there’s more going on beneath the surface.”

Javon clenched his jaw. It was strange how Walker seemed to see him in a way no one else had managed to. But that didn’t mean he was going to give in.

“You don’t know anything about me, Scobell.”

Walker smiled, but this time his tone turned more serious.

“Maybe I don’t know everything, but I can see what you’re trying to hide. I’ve met plenty of people in this business, Javon, and most of them are walking masks. But you…” He paused, as if searching for the right words. “You’re different. Not fake, but definitely complicated.”

Javon felt a mix of discomfort and curiosity. There was something unsettling about being seen so clearly, as if Walker was peeling back a layer Javon didn’t even know he had.

“What about you?” Javon finally asked, shifting the focus. “What are you hiding, Scobell? Because I don’t buy for a second that this carefree attitude is all there is.”

Walker let out a soft laugh, but it lacked his usual teasing edge.

“Touch a nerve, and you’re already counterattacking, huh?” He shrugged, looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t know if I’m hiding anything, but I don’t care if people see what’s on the surface. What you see is what you get—more or less.”

“More or less,” Javon repeated with a faintly sarcastic tone.

Walker looked back at him, his smile returning but not entirely erasing the seriousness from earlier.

“Exactly. Look, I’m not as complicated as you. You’re like a fortress with locked doors and high walls. Me? I leave the doors slightly open. Whether someone steps in or not, that’s up to them.”

Javon studied him in silence, trying to figure out which part of that response was genuine and which was another one of his jokes. But Walker didn’t give him much time to analyze. He stood up from the sofa and walked to the door, pausing just before stepping out.

“You should try leaving a door open sometime. You never know who might walk in.”

And with that, he left, leaving Javon alone in the dressing room.

Javon leaned back in his chair, letting out a heavy sigh. Walker had a unique way of shaking his thoughts, of forcing him to question things he preferred to keep in the background. But there was something else. Something about the way Walker seemed to see beyond the surface made him feel vulnerable—and at the same time, intrigued.

For the first time in a long while, Javon felt like he didn’t have all the answers. And though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, that excited him just as much as it unsettled him.

Chapter Text

The afternoon was fading as Javon left the set, determined to leave behind the unanswered questions Walker had planted in his mind. The cool Los Angeles air offered a slight reprieve, though the city’s constant buzz always managed to creep in. He was walking toward the parking lot when a familiar voice called out behind him.

“Walton! Always in a hurry?”

Javon stopped and turned slowly, finding Walker strolling toward him with a tote bag in hand. He looked like he’d just come from a store, wearing a pair of sunglasses that barely managed to hide his signature smug grin.

“What now?” Javon asked, his tone a mix of resignation and irritation.

Walker stopped right in front of him, pointing at the bag he was holding.

“I was going to grab a bite, but then I thought, ‘What better way to spend the evening than annoying Javon Walton a little more?’”

Javon huffed and crossed his arms.

“Great. Why don’t you find someone else to bother?”

Walker removed his sunglasses and looked at him, the playful spark in his eyes unmistakable.

“Because they don’t react like you do. Let’s admit it, Rocky, we’re a great duo. You with your intensity, me with my charm. It’s pure gold.”

“We’re nothing,” Javon said flatly, turning to head toward his car.

But Walker didn’t let up, following him and speaking as if he hadn’t heard the response.

“Look, I know you don’t have plans, because your life seems to revolve around training, memorizing scripts, and proving how tough you are. So I thought, why not invite you to dinner?”

Javon stopped abruptly and turned on his heel.

“Invite me to dinner? Why would I want to do that?”

Walker smiled, as though he had already anticipated the reaction.

“Because, let’s admit it, you need something different. Something outside your comfort zone. Plus, it would be interesting. You and me at the same table, no script in between.”

“Pass,” Javon replied, turning back around and continuing toward his car.

But Walker wasn’t about to give up.

“Come on, Rocky, what do you have to lose? It’s just dinner. If it turns out to be horrible, I promise not to bother you for… I don’t know, two days.”

Javon stopped again, clenching his jaw. There was something about Walker that was as infuriating as it was intriguing. Finally, he exhaled heavily and turned to face him.

“Fine. One dinner. But don’t get your hopes up.”

Walker raised his hands in victory.

“Knew you’d say yes! All right, hop in your car and follow me. I know the perfect place.”

The place Walker chose wasn’t exactly what Javon had expected. It wasn’t a fancy restaurant or a recognizable chain. It was a small, tucked-away spot on a side street, with warm lighting and an aroma that mixed spices and freshly baked bread. Walker seemed to know the place well, greeting the waiter like an old friend.

“Trust me, Rocky, this place has the best burgers you’ll ever taste,” Walker said as they sat at a table by the window.

Javon didn’t respond, but he looked around, taking in the atmosphere. There was something cozy about the place, something that made him feel slightly out of his element but not uncomfortable.

The waiter arrived quickly, and without even glancing at the menu, Walker ordered two double cheeseburgers with fries. Javon raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief.

“You’re not even going to ask what I want?”

Walker shrugged, smiling.

“Saving you time. You’ll thank me later.”

Javon let out a small grunt and leaned on the table, narrowing his eyes at Walker.

“Are you always like this? So… intrusive?”

Walker laughed, leaning back in his chair.

“I prefer to call it observant. It’s something I learned quickly in this industry: if you don’t take the initiative, you get left behind.”

“Or you could just learn to respect other people’s space.”

Walker looked at him intently, and for a moment, his smile faded. When he spoke, his tone was more serious.

“I could. But then it wouldn’t be you and me sitting here, would it?”

Javon didn’t know how to respond to that. There was something about the way Walker said things, as if every sentence was designed to throw him off balance.

The food arrived shortly after, and to his surprise, the burger was as good as Walker had promised. They ate in silence at first, but eventually, Walker broke the barrier.

“So, tell me, what made you want to act? You don’t seem like the type who enjoys being in front of a camera.”

Javon took a few seconds to answer, wiping his mouth with a napkin before speaking.

“It’s not about enjoying it. It’s a challenge. I want to prove I can do more than box.”

Walker nodded, as if that answer made sense to him.

“That explains it. But I still don’t get why you seem so… resistant to anything that doesn’t fit your plan.”

Javon looked at him coolly.

“Maybe because I don’t like wasting time.”

Walker smiled softly, leaning forward.

“And what if what you’re avoiding isn’t a waste of time? What if you’re shutting out things that could surprise you?”

Javon didn’t respond. There was something in that question that made him think more than he wanted to admit. Walker, as always, seemed to have a special talent for disarming him without even trying.

At the end of the night, as they left the restaurant, Javon couldn’t help but admit something to himself: Walker Scobell was an unpredictable force, and for some reason, he wasn’t sure he wanted to stop it.

————————————————————————

The night was cool, with the air in Los Angeles carrying that peculiar energy only a city that never rests can have. Javon and Walker walked down the sidewalk, leaving the small restaurant behind. The hum of distant cars provided a soothing background noise, and the streetlights cast long shadows over their faces.

For a while, they walked in silence. Walker, as always, seemed comfortable with the situation, his hands in his pockets and a faint smile on his lips. Javon, on the other hand, had his arms crossed, his rigid posture as if trying to maintain an invisible barrier between them.

Finally, Walker broke the silence.

“So, what did you think of the burger?” he asked casually, as though they were discussing something profound.

Javon glanced at him, trying to keep his expression neutral.

“It was fine.”

Walker laughed, shaking his head.

“‘It was fine.’ That’s your way of saying it was amazing, but you don’t want to give me the satisfaction of being right, isn’t it?”

“Don’t get excited, Scobell,” Javon replied, with a faint smile he tried to hide.

Walker caught the small gesture, and his grin widened.

“Ah, there it is. I knew you could smile. It’s like seeing a solar eclipse—rare, but fascinating.”

“Do you always talk this much?” Javon retorted, though this time his tone lacked its usual edge.

“Only when I’m with someone interesting,” Walker replied, winking at him.

Javon shook his head but didn’t say anything else. They kept walking, and the silence returned, though this time it didn’t feel uncomfortable. It was strange, Javon thought, how Walker could make him let his guard down without even trying.

When they reached a small park, Walker stopped by a wooden bench under a large tree. He looked at Javon, raising his eyebrows.

“Shall we sit?” he suggested, gesturing to the bench.

Javon hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded and sat down, leaving a reasonable space between them. Walker sat beside him, leaning his arms on the backrest and looking up at the sky.

“You know, this is my favorite spot to clear my head when I’m in the city,” Walker said, breaking the silence again.

“Why?” Javon asked, not looking at him.

“It’s quiet. No cameras, no scripts, no people expecting you to be perfect all the time. You just… get to be yourself.”

Javon let out a small scoff.

“Yourself? Is that something you do often?”

Walker looked at him, and although he was still smiling, his tone was more serious this time.

“Yeah, more often than you’d think. Though I don’t think the same applies to you, does it?”

Javon frowned.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you always seem to be acting, even when you’re not in front of a camera. It’s like you’re wearing a mask all the time.”

Javon tensed. That observation hit him harder than he expected. He turned his head to look at Walker, his gaze now colder.

“And what do you know about me? We barely know each other.”

Walker held his gaze, unfazed.

“I don’t need to know you for years to figure it out. I see it in the way you’re always on the defensive, like you’re expecting an attack that never comes.”

Javon opened his mouth to respond but then closed it again. He couldn’t deny there was some truth in Walker’s words, but he wasn’t ready to admit it.

“Maybe I just don’t trust people,” he finally said, looking down at the ground.

Walker nodded slowly.

“I get that. This world isn’t exactly a place where trust comes easy. But don’t you get tired of keeping that wall up all the time?”

Javon didn’t respond. Instead, he let the silence speak for him. Walker didn’t push, but his gaze stayed on him, waiting.

Finally, Javon spoke, his voice lower than usual.

“It’s not as simple as it seems. Growing up in a world where you always have to prove something, where everyone expects you to be strong, doesn’t leave much room to be… vulnerable.”

Walker listened intently, nodding slowly.

“That makes sense. But being strong doesn’t mean you can’t let your guard down once in a while.”

Javon looked up, meeting his eyes directly.

“Do you?”

Walker smiled, but this time it wasn’t his usual grin. There was something softer, more genuine in it.

“I try. It’s not always easy, but sometimes it’s worth it.”

For a moment, they looked at each other in silence, and Javon felt something strange, like an invisible weight had lifted, even if just a little. It was rare to find someone who challenged him like this, yet somehow made him feel less alone.

Walker stood up from the bench, breaking the moment.

“Well, Rocky, I think that’s enough introspection for one night. We should leave before someone thinks we’re writing a script for an indie movie.”

Javon let out a small laugh, surprised at how natural it felt.

“Maybe it’d be a good script. You’re pretty good at acting off-script, after all.”

Walker leaned slightly toward him, as if accepting a challenge.

“And you’re not so bad in the role of the tough guy. But I think there’s more to you than that. See you tomorrow on set, Walton.”

And with one last wink, Walker walked away, leaving him alone in the park. Javon watched him until he disappeared into the distance, wondering what made Walker so different.

For the first time in a long while, Javon didn’t have all the answers, and while that was unsettling, there was something exciting about it too.

Chapter Text

The sun was setting as Javon left the set, the workday finally over. Even though the lights and noise of the set had disappeared behind him, his mind was still caught up in everything that had happened. The scene with Walker was still alive in his head, like a movie he couldn’t turn off.

He walked toward his car in the empty parking lot, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket and his gaze fixed on the ground. The sound of his footsteps on the pavement was the only thing breaking the silence, though even that seemed to amplify the thoughts he was trying to ignore.

He climbed into the car, shut the door, and slumped back against the seat, letting out a long sigh. Closing his eyes only brought the image of Walker, standing in front of him on set, back into sharp focus. There was something about the intensity of his words, the way he had looked at him, that unsettled Javon deeply.

“Why can’t I get him out of my head?” he thought, snapping his eyes open quickly, as if that could stop the flood of images.

He started the engine and drove, with no particular destination in mind. He just needed to move, to get away from that place and the thoughts suffocating him. The city lights blurred past him like fleeting flashes, and the music coming from the stereo did nothing to distract him. His mind kept circling around Walker and the questions he couldn’t seem to answer.

After a while, he found himself in a quieter part of the city, where the streets were less crowded and the lights less harsh. He spotted a small, nearly empty park and decided to stop. He needed air, something to anchor him to reality. Getting out of the car, he walked toward one of the benches under an old oak tree, letting the cool night air surround him.

He sat down, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped. His breathing was slow and controlled, but the turmoil inside him was still present. Every time he tried to understand what he was feeling, he seemed to hit a wall. Walker wasn’t just an annoying coworker. There was something else, something Javon didn’t want to name because he feared what it might mean.

He looked up at the sky, searching for answers among the stars, but all he found was the emptiness of a cloudless night. Leaning back against the bench, he closed his eyes for a moment, letting the cool breeze brush against his face.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, only that his body eventually began to relax. But instead of calming him, that relaxation brought deeper, more personal thoughts. It was as if, in solitude, he had nowhere to hide from himself.

And it was in that moment, in that solitude, that he began to feel something more.

His hands slid to the sides of the bench, gripping the wood as a wave of emotions coursed through him. It was a mix of frustration, desire, and confusion, something that consumed him in a way he couldn’t control. He closed his eyes again, trying to push the image of Walker out of his mind, but it was useless. Every time he tried, the memories came back stronger: the intensity of his gaze, the way he moved with a confidence that Javon found both disconcerting and provocative.

He let out a sigh, this time shakier, as his thoughts plunged into a place he rarely visited. His fingers tightened against the bench, as if he needed something solid to hold onto to keep himself grounded. But the truth was, he had already given in. Walker’s voice still echoed in his head, and as much as he hated it, there was something about it that made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t before.

His hands unconsciously moved to his own shirt, unbuttoning it slightly, seeking a relief he couldn’t define. His breathing grew heavier, and his thoughts turned darker, more intimate, as he allowed the emotions he had been repressing to rise to the surface.

There was no one around, no one to see him in this moment of vulnerability. And maybe that was what he needed: to be alone to confront something he had been avoiding for so long.

After a while, Javon stood up from the bench, feeling more exhausted than before. There was something about the weight of his own thoughts that left him drained. He walked back to his car, his steps slower this time, as if he were dragging something invisible but heavy.

When he finally got home, he dropped his keys on the table and shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair. The silence of his apartment was almost deafening. He collapsed onto the couch, staring at the ceiling as the events of the day swirled in his mind.

“What are you doing to me, Walker?” he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room.

It was a question he knew he couldn’t answer, but one he couldn’t stop asking. Walker had stormed into his life like a hurricane, upending everything in his path and leaving Javon without a single safe place to hide. And though he hated to admit it, there was something about all of it that made him want to face it, even if it meant confronting things he had kept buried for so long.

The night dragged on, and Javon remained on the couch, trapped between the desire for answers and the fear of what those answers might mean.

——————————————-

The next morning arrived faster than Javon expected. He had barely slept a few hours, and although his body was tired, his mind had given him no rest. He had spent most of the night trying to understand what he was feeling, but the answers remained elusive. Walker continued to occupy a space in his head he hadn’t invited him into, and no matter how much he tried to push him out, it was like a constant echo.

The set was more alive that morning. The crew bustled back and forth, adjusting every detail, while the actors began to trickle in one by one. Javon arrived early, as usual, and headed to his dressing room to get ready. The quiet of the small space was a much-needed reprieve before plunging into the day’s chaos.

However, the peace didn’t last long. He had just finished putting on his costume when someone knocked on the door.

“You decent, Rocky?” Walker’s familiar, teasing voice called from the other side.

Javon sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before answering.

“Yes, come in.”

The door opened, and Walker walked in with his usual grin, wearing nothing but a pair of track pants and sneakers. Javon immediately noticed he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His slightly tanned skin glistened under the light, and his torso was well-defined, his muscles speaking of discipline but maintaining that effortless, carefree quality that defined him. A thin chain hung around his neck, swaying slightly with each step.

Javon tried to look away quickly, but his eyes couldn’t help but trace every line, every shadow the muscles cast with his movement. There was something magnetic about the way Walker carried himself, as though he wasn’t aware of the effect he had—or maybe he was all too aware.

“What are you doing here shirtless?” Javon asked, trying to keep his voice firm, though there was a slight nervous edge he couldn’t entirely hide.

Walker raised an eyebrow, his grin widening.

“Relax, Rocky. This isn’t the first time you’ve seen someone shirtless, is it?”

Javon clenched his jaw, turning his gaze to the side.

“It’s not that. I just don’t understand why you’re walking around like that.”

Walker shrugged, stepping toward a mirror in the corner of the dressing room. He looked at his reflection for a moment, running his hands through his hair.

“You know, not everyone walks around as tense as you. It’s just a body, man. Nothing special.”

But Javon couldn’t stop thinking it was something special. There was something about Walker that went beyond his physique. His confidence, his way of occupying space as if everything around him belonged to him, made him impossible to ignore. And that was what unsettled Javon the most.

“You should put on a shirt before someone comes in and gets annoyed,” Javon muttered, trying to sound indifferent.

Walker looked at him through the mirror, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Someone like you? Is it bothering you, Javon?”

Hearing his name from Walker took him by surprise. Walker rarely called him that, and hearing him say it in that almost provocative tone stirred something unfamiliar in his chest. Javon crossed his arms, trying to maintain his composure.

“It’s not bothering me. I just think it’s unnecessary.”

Walker turned, leaning against the edge of the mirror with a lopsided grin.

“Are you sure? Because you’ve got that look on your face, like you’re thinking too much. What’s going on in that head of yours, Rocky?”

“Nothing,” Javon snapped, too quickly.

Walker took a step closer to him, closing the distance between them.

“Nothing?” he repeated, tilting his head slightly as he studied him. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

Javon felt his breath hitch slightly, but he refused to step back. There was something about Walker’s proximity that made him nervous, but not in the usual way. It was a different kind of nervousness, heavier, charged with a tension he couldn’t explain.

“Cut it out, Scobell. We’ve got work to do. Go get ready,” he finally said, turning toward his bag as a way to break the eye contact.

Walker watched him for a moment longer, as if considering something, but eventually stepped back and raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, Rocky. But you should loosen up a bit. Sometimes it looks like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Javon didn’t respond, keeping his gaze fixed on his bag’s contents until he heard the door click shut behind Walker. Only then did he let out a long sigh, running a hand over his face. His heart was still racing, and his thoughts were more tangled than ever.

He didn’t understand what Walker made him feel, but he knew he was crossing lines he’d never allowed before. And while part of him wanted to pull back, another part—deeper, more honest—couldn’t help but want to understand him more.

—————————————————————————

The afternoon on set passed quickly, and after a series of exhausting takes, the director finally called for a break. Javon headed to the dressing room to change into something more comfortable before the next scene. As he walked, his mind was occupied with the lines he still needed to memorize, but a part of him—though he wouldn’t admit it—was still thinking about Walker and how he had managed to keep him in a state of constant unease since they’d met.

When he reached the dressing room, the space was nearly empty. The soft hum of the air conditioning and the echo of his footsteps were the only sounds. Javon took off the jacket from his current costume and hung it on one of the hooks, preparing to change. But just as he began unbuttoning his shirt, the door swung open.

“Back here again, Rocky? What’s the matter, can’t stay away from me?” Walker’s unmistakable voice filled the room.

Javon turned his head slowly to see Walker enter with his usual carefree energy. This time, he was wearing a tight black t-shirt that highlighted every muscle on his torso, gray sweatpants, and a pair of worn-out white sneakers. He carried a backpack slung over one shoulder and a water bottle in the other hand.

“What are you doing here?” Javon asked, trying to sound calm, though he felt a slight knot of discomfort forming in his stomach.

Walker closed the door with his foot, dropping his backpack onto a nearby bench.

“What else would I be doing in a dressing room? Changing, of course. You’re not the only one who needs fresh clothes, Rocky.”

Javon rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his shirt, continuing to unbutton it. But he couldn’t ignore Walker’s presence, especially as he moved around the dressing room with that signature confidence, as if he didn’t care at all that they weren’t alone.

“Relax, I don’t bite,” Walker teased as he pulled his t-shirt off in one smooth motion. The black fabric revealed his bare torso, the same one Javon had seen before, but it still left him momentarily speechless. The muscles of his chest and abdomen were defined, his slightly tanned skin glowing under the fluorescent lights of the dressing room.

Javon tried to focus on his own clothes, but his hands felt clumsy as he finished removing his shirt. He placed it aside and tried to ignore Walker’s presence, who was now calmly untying the laces of his sneakers.

“Are you always this quiet when you change?” Walker asked, glancing at him as he bent down to take off his shoes. His words carried a light tone, but his eyes seemed to study him.

“I’m not here to make conversation,” Javon muttered, pulling off his undershirt. He felt the cold air of the dressing room against his skin, but what really unsettled him was the way Walker kept glancing at him from the corner of his eye.

Walker let out a soft laugh as he kicked off his sneakers and pulled down his sweatpants, revealing fitted dark boxers. Javon, desperately trying not to look, turned his gaze away and began putting on a clean t-shirt he had brought with him.

“Relax, Rocky. It’s just a dressing room. It’s not like I’m doing anything unusual,” Walker said as he pulled a pair of dark jeans out of his backpack.

Javon pressed his lips together, not replying. He threw on a gray hoodie, but he still felt Walker’s gaze on him. Finally, he dared to look at him again, only to find Walker buttoning up his jeans slowly, almost as if he were doing it on purpose to prolong the moment.

“Why do you always have to make everything a show?” Javon asked, unable to hide the irritation in his voice.

Walker grinned, raising his hands in an innocent gesture.

“A show? I’m just changing clothes. If that’s a show to you, maybe I’m not the problem here.”

Javon felt the blood rush to his face, and he quickly bent down to tie the laces of his sneakers, trying to hide his discomfort. But Walker, as always, didn’t stop.

“Besides, I’d say I’m not the only one here with something to show, Rocky,” Walker said, nodding toward Javon’s torso, which wasn’t fully covered yet by his hoodie.

Javon glared at him, trying to ignore the comment.

“Put on a shirt and stop talking so much, Scobell.”

Walker laughed, pulling on a plain white t-shirt that clung to his shoulders and arms. He walked over to the bench where his backpack was and sat down, taking a sip from his water bottle.

“You’re a curious case, Walton. Always so stiff, but there’s something behind it. Something you don’t want to show.”

Javon finished dressing quickly, without replying. He was used to Walker’s teasing, but this time there was something more in his tone, something that made him feel exposed in a way he couldn’t explain.

When he was finally ready, he turned to Walker, who was still sitting there, watching him with that half-mocking, half-curious smile.

“What?” Javon snapped.

“Nothing,” Walker replied, standing up and adjusting the backpack on his shoulder. “I’m just wondering how much longer you’ll keep up that façade.”

Javon stared at him, feeling a mix of frustration and something else he couldn’t name.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, trying to sound firm.

Walker just smiled, opening the dressing room door.

“Maybe not. But I think I’m getting close to figuring it out.”

And with that, he left, leaving Javon alone in the dressing room. Javon stood still for a moment, feeling the tension in his chest build. He knew Walker had an effect on him, but what he didn’t know was how to face it without losing the control he had always valued.

Chapter Text

The dressing room was empty again, but the echo of Walker’s words seemed to resonate off the walls. Javon stood still, still by the bench where he’d left his clothes, staring at the floor as if expecting it to offer him some answers. But the silence in the room gave him no reprieve; if there was one thing he’d learned since Walker had entered his life, it was that there was no way to ignore him.

He took a deep breath and picked up his bag, determined to leave behind what had happened just minutes ago. Yet every time he tried to shake the thought of Walker out of his head, the memory came back stronger: his mocking smile, the way he disarmed him with seemingly innocent but loaded words, and most recently, the discomfort of seeing him change so nonchalantly in front of him.

Why does this affect me so much? That question had followed him for weeks, but now it felt like a weight he couldn’t shake off. Still, there was no time for answers. The shoot was ongoing, and he needed to get back on set.

When he arrived, the atmosphere was different. The production crew was adjusting lights and cameras for a scene that required a complicated choreography between him and Walker. The two of them had to face off in an argument that would culminate in a physical confrontation. While the instructions were clear, the emotional intensity required by the scene kept him tense. And having to do it with Walker didn’t help.

Javon scanned the set, spotting Walker near the monitor where the director was reviewing previous takes. Walker was leaning casually against a table, dressed in his new costume: a plain white t-shirt and dark jeans that fit him perfectly. He looked as relaxed as ever, chatting with one of the production assistants, his signature smile firmly in place.

The director’s voice pulled Javon out of his thoughts.

“Javon, come here. I want to go over the dynamics before we shoot.”

He walked over, feeling a strange tension in his chest. It wasn’t the scene that worried him; it was Walker’s proximity. Walker glanced at him casually, but there was something in his look that Javon couldn’t quite decipher.

“Alright, guys,” the director began, holding a script in his hands. “This scene is crucial. I need both of you to be fully immersed. This isn’t just a physical confrontation; I want the weight of the emotions to come through. This isn’t a superficial fight—it’s deeper than that.”

Walker nodded, taking the script without breaking eye contact with Javon.

“I think we’ve got it. Right, Rocky?”

Javon shot him a glare but didn’t say anything. He knew Walker was testing his limits, as always.

The director continued explaining the details as they prepared for the scene. When the action finally began, the set fell completely silent. Javon stepped toward Walker, his character brimming with barely contained anger. Walker responded with a provocative attitude, his expression defiant, as if enjoying every second.

“You always have to have the last word!” Javon shouted, following the script.

Walker took a step closer, his voice calm but full of tension.

“So what if I do? Someone has to tell it like it is, and it clearly won’t be you.”

The words were written in the script, but the intensity with which Walker delivered them made them feel too real. Javon felt his heart pounding as their gazes locked. It was as if the rest of the set disappeared, leaving only the two of them in that moment.

The confrontation continued, their voices rising until they reached the climax of the scene: Javon grabbed Walker by the shirt, lifting him slightly as the script directed him to push him toward the nearby wall. But as he did, there was a moment of hesitation. His hands gripped the fabric of Walker’s shirt tightly, and for a second, their eyes met in a way that wasn’t in the script.

“Cut!” the director yelled, snapping them out of the moment.

They quickly stepped away from each other, but Javon could feel the heat on his face and the eyes of the crew on them. Walker ran a hand through his hair, a faint smile still lingering on his lips, as if nothing had happened.

“Good work, guys. But we need more intensity in the next take,” the director said.

Javon nodded but avoided looking at Walker as he returned to his starting position. Every muscle in his body felt tense, and not just because of the scene. There was something else in the air, something that made him feel vulnerable, and that infuriated him.

The day finally ended, and Javon left the set without saying much. He had managed to avoid Walker for the rest of the takes, but he knew he couldn’t dodge him forever. As he walked toward his car, he heard footsteps behind him.

“Running away again, Rocky?” Walker’s voice was unmistakable.

Javon stopped, clenching his fists before turning to face him.

“What do you want, Scobell?”

Walker looked at him with that lopsided smile, but this time there was something else in his eyes, something more serious.

“Nothing in particular. I just wanted to check if you’re okay. You seemed… different during that last scene.”

Javon frowned, crossing his arms.

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

Walker took a step closer, closing the distance between them.

“Are you sure? Because you seemed a little distracted. But hey, if you want, we can talk about it.”

Javon felt his heart race, but he held his ground.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Walker. See you tomorrow.”

He turned to leave, but Walker stopped him with a hand on his arm. It wasn’t a strong grip, but firm enough to keep him in place.

“Listen, Rocky. You don’t have to keep that wall up all the time. Maybe… just maybe, you could try trusting someone.”

Javon stood still, staring at Walker’s hand on his arm before lifting his gaze to meet his. He didn’t know what to say, but something in Walker’s words left him breathless.

Walker released his arm gently and stepped back.

“Think about it. See you tomorrow.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving Javon standing in the middle of the parking lot, trapped in his own thoughts. Once again, Walker had managed to unbalance him, and though Javon hated to admit it, he wasn’t sure he wanted it to stop.

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The night was an endless echo of Walker’s words, his smile and closeness etched like fire in Javon’s mind. He had driven home with tense hands on the steering wheel, his heart racing, and a whirlwind of emotions he didn’t know how to handle. When he arrived, he collapsed onto the couch, staring at the ceiling as though searching for answers.

“This isn’t right,” he muttered softly. But even as he said it, he couldn’t ignore the truth that had begun to take shape within him. Walker wasn’t just an annoyance, nor was he merely a physical attraction. He was something more—something that had been growing slowly and now hit him with a force he couldn’t ignore.

He was in love.

The realization left him breathless, as though someone had pulled the ground out from under him. He had spent weeks trying to rationalize what he felt, telling himself it was simply a reaction to Walker’s personality, his way of being so free and confident. But now he knew. It wasn’t just admiration or confusion. It was something much deeper, and for the first time, Javon didn’t know how to face it.

The next morning, the set was as lively as ever. Javon arrived early, as usual, his face serious and his shoulders tense. He had spent the night convincing himself that nothing would change. That he could handle this. That he didn’t have to let these feelings control him. But the calm he sought vanished as soon as he saw Walker.

Walker was sitting in a chair, legs stretched out and a coffee in hand. He wore a light blue t-shirt that complemented the bronze tone of his skin and a pair of worn jeans that seemed tailored to fit him perfectly. Walker looked up as Javon entered, his signature smile appearing instantly.

“Rocky!” Walker called, raising a hand in a carefree wave. “Right on time. I thought you’d gotten lost.”

Javon pressed his lips together and made his way to his spot without replying, but he could feel Walker’s gaze following him. There was something about that simple gesture that disarmed him. It was as if Walker had the power to break through every barrier Javon tried to build, and the worst part was, he was starting to surrender to the idea.

As the day went on, Javon tried to focus on the scenes, but every interaction with Walker felt tinged with something different. During one rehearsal, their hands accidentally brushed as they worked through a choreography, and Javon felt a shiver run through his body. Walker didn’t say anything, but his smile seemed softer, less teasing. It was as if he, too, had noticed the change.

Later, during lunch, Javon sat at a table by himself, trying to find some peace while he ate. But, as always, Walker didn’t take long to appear. He dropped into the chair across from him, bringing with him an energy that filled the entire space.

“Why do you always eat alone?” Walker asked, resting his elbows on the table and looking at him curiously.

“Because I like the quiet,” Javon replied without looking up.

“Quiet? Come on, Rocky, no one needs that much quiet. Besides, if you keep eating alone, people are going to think I’m the only one who can put up with you.”

Javon looked up, meeting those blue eyes that seemed capable of seeing right through him. He wanted to respond with something sarcastic, but all that came out was a small sigh.

“It’s not that, Walker. I’m just used to it.”

Walker observed him for a moment before smiling and sliding a small package wrapped in paper across the table.

“Here. I saw this at the café and thought you’d like it. A chocolate croissant. Your favorite, right?”

Javon stared at the package as if it were a foreign object. He didn’t know how to react. The simple gesture took him by surprise, but what really left him unsettled was the warmth he felt in receiving it.

“Thanks,” he muttered, feeling awkward as he took the package.

Walker leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile.

“No problem. Just trying to keep my scene partner in a good mood.”

Javon didn’t respond, but inside, something in him was crumbling. Walker had done something simple, small, and unassuming, but to Javon, it meant more than he wanted to admit.

That afternoon, during another scene, Javon noticed that something in his attitude toward Walker had begun to shift. There was something in the way he looked at him, in how he leaned closer when they spoke, that wasn’t entirely under his control. Without realizing it, he started paying more attention to Walker, laughing a little more at his jokes, finding excuses to stay near him. And though he didn’t want to admit it, he knew it was his way of getting closer without making it obvious.

During a break between takes, Walker approached him with a water bottle and held it out.

“You look overheated, Rocky. Here, take this.”

Javon took the bottle, feeling warmth rise to his cheeks that had nothing to do with physical exertion.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, avoiding eye contact.

Walker leaned a little closer, his voice low but loaded with intention.

“You sure you’re okay? You’ve seemed different lately.”

Javon swallowed hard, gripping the bottle tightly in his hands.

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

Walker looked at him for a moment longer before smiling.

“If you say so.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving Javon with his heart pounding and a constant question in his mind: how was he supposed to keep fighting something that already seemed inevitable?

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The set was heavy with tension that morning. There was something different, something lingering in the air that no one seemed to mention. Javon arrived early as usual, trying to maintain his composure. However, the weight of his feelings for Walker was starting to crack the walls he had carefully built around himself.

As he entered the makeup area, the first thing he saw was Walker. He was sitting in front of a mirror, joking with one of the assistants while she finished styling his hair. His laughter filled the room, a mix of carefree charm that seemed to draw everyone near. Javon tried not to look at him, but his eyes betrayed him, drawn like magnets.

“Calm down,” he told himself as he walked to his chair. But the knot in his stomach wouldn’t go away. Every time Walker was near, it felt like the ground beneath him became unstable.

“Rocky!” Walker called out, his energy as irrepressible as ever. “Did you sleep well, or were you practicing how to ignore me?”

Javon couldn’t help but smile, though he quickly hid it by turning to the mirror.

“Neither,” he replied without looking at him. “Some of us have more important things to think about.”

Walker chuckled and got up from his chair, walking over to stand behind Javon. He leaned in slightly, just enough for his reflection to appear beside Javon’s in the mirror.

“Don’t worry, Rocky. Soon enough, I’ll be important enough to occupy your thoughts all the time,” he said, his tone a mix of teasing and something deeper.

Javon felt a shiver run down his spine but pretended not to hear him. He took a deep breath, letting the makeup team do their work while trying to push Walker out of his mind.

The day’s scene was intense. It was a confrontation between their characters, full of shouting, accusations, and raw emotions. The director gave them precise instructions but left room for improvisation if they felt they could add authenticity.

When the camera started rolling, Javon channeled all the confusion and frustration he felt toward Walker into his performance. Every word he spoke carried a weight that went beyond the script.

“You always have to control everything!” he shouted, his eyes locked on Walker.

Walker didn’t back down. He stepped closer, his face tense, his eyes shining with something that felt as real as Javon’s performance.

“Maybe because no one else has the guts to do it!” he fired back, his voice full of anger.

The space between them seemed charged with electricity, and when the scene ended, the director called, “Cut!” with a mix of excitement and surprise.

“That was incredible, guys. Exactly what we needed.”

But Javon didn’t feel relief. As he walked away, he felt a hand on his arm. He turned to find Walker, whose expression had shifted. His usual playful smile was gone, replaced by something that looked almost... concerned.

“Are you okay?” Walker asked in a low voice.

“I’m fine,” Javon said quickly, pulling his arm free.

“You don’t seem fine,” Walker insisted, stepping closer.

“I said I’m fine, Walker. Drop it.” Javon started to walk toward the exit, but Walker followed.

“Wait. What’s wrong? If this is about the scene, we both know how to separate acting from reality, right?”

Javon stopped abruptly, turning to face him.

“Separate acting from reality?” he repeated bitterly. “Can you do that? Because every time I’m around you, it seems like you’re not even trying.”

Walker looked at him, surprised by the intensity of his words.

“What are you talking about?”

Javon clenched his fists, struggling against the urge to say more than he should. But something inside him finally gave way.

“Stop looking at me like that. Stop acting like this is all a game, because for me, it’s not.”

A heavy silence settled between them. Walker studied him closely, as if trying to process what he had just heard.

“Javon...” he started, but before he could finish, Javon raised a hand to stop him.

“Don’t make this harder. Please.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving Walker standing in the middle of the set.

That night, Javon locked himself in his apartment. He had tried to keep his feelings under control, but now they were exposed, and there was no way to ignore them. He paced back and forth in his living room, his thoughts a whirlwind.

What did I expect? That Walker would just understand?

He collapsed onto the couch, running his hands through his hair. Every interaction with Walker, every look, every smile, now seemed loaded with a meaning he couldn’t bear.

Suddenly, a knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the clock; it was late. He hesitated for a moment before opening it, only to find Walker standing there, his expression unlike anything Javon had seen before. It wasn’t teasing or confident. He looked... vulnerable.

“What are you doing here?” Javon asked, his voice harsher than he intended.

Walker took a step forward but kept a respectful distance.

“I needed to see you. I didn’t want to leave things like this.”

Javon crossed his arms, trying to maintain his composure.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Walker. I’ve said everything I needed to say.”

“No, you haven’t,” Walker replied, his voice quieter, more serious. “You said enough for me to understand this isn’t just something passing for you. But if you’re going to be honest with me, then I’m going to be honest with you.”

Javon felt his breath catch.

“What do you mean?”

Walker looked directly into his eyes, and for the first time, Javon saw a sincerity that left him speechless.

“I mean that maybe I’m not as indifferent as you think I am.”

The silence between them was so intense it seemed to fill the entire room. Javon didn’t know what to do, what to say. Everything he had been avoiding was now right in front of him, and there was no escape.

Walker took a small step closer but not enough to invade his space.

“Take your time, Rocky. I’m not here to pressure you. I just wanted you to know.”

And with that, he turned and left, leaving Javon with a racing heart and a million emotions he didn’t know how to handle.

Chapter Text

The next morning arrived with the weight of everything that had happened the night before. Javon had barely slept; every word Walker had said echoed in his mind, mingling with his own thoughts and fears. He had tried to convince himself he could ignore it, that everything would return to normal over time, but now he knew that was a lie. He had crossed a line, and there was no turning back.

When he arrived on set, the atmosphere was tense. The production team was working on a different scene, something lighter, but Javon couldn’t shake the discomfort. He couldn’t help but wonder if Walker was going to act like nothing had happened or if everything would change from now on.

That afternoon, the director gathered them for a new scene, one completely different from the intense arguments they had been filming lately. This time, their characters shared a more intimate moment, a conversation under a night sky as they opened up about their pasts. It was a scene designed to show vulnerability, to build a connection that had been missing in their interactions.

“This is what I want from you,” the director said, pacing back and forth in front of them. “This isn’t a confrontation or an action scene. It’s a moment to breathe, to be human. I want you to feel comfortable, to get lost in the conversation. Got it?”

Javon nodded slowly but couldn’t help casting a quick glance at Walker, who was leaning against a table with his arms crossed. His expression was calm, but there was something in his eyes that made Javon feel exposed.

“Ready?” the director asked.

Walker straightened up, giving Javon a quick look before answering.

“Always ready.”

Javon took a deep breath and followed Walker to the set, where they had recreated a terrace under an artificial starry sky. A small table with two chairs stood in the center, along with a bottle of wine and two glasses. The lighting was soft, creating an intimate atmosphere that almost made him forget they were surrounded by cameras and an entire production crew.

They sat down, and when the director yelled “Action!” Walker picked up the bottle and began pouring wine into both glasses, just as the script directed.

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like if we weren’t here?” Walker asked, following his lines, but his tone was softer, more real.

Javon picked up his glass, trying to focus on his own lines.

“What do you mean?”

Walker set the bottle down on the table and looked directly at him.

“All of this. The lights, the cameras, the expectations. What would it be like if it all disappeared for a day?”

Javon looked back at him, and even though he knew Walker was acting, there was something about the way he spoke that felt different. It was as if he were speaking directly to him, not his character.

“I suppose it would be… quieter,” Javon responded, slightly improvising as his fingers toyed with the edge of the glass.

Walker let out a small laugh.

“Quieter? I’m not sure you know what that means, Rocky.”

Javon raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress a slight smile.

“And you do? You always seem to be in the middle of chaos.”

“Maybe chaos is my quiet,” Walker replied, his tone light but his eyes serious.

The director let them continue, allowing them to improvise beyond the script. Javon found himself lost in the conversation, in the way Walker filled the space between them with his presence. There was something about the closeness of that moment that made everything else fade away.

When the director finally called “Cut!” Javon realized his heart was racing. Walker didn’t move immediately, staying seated as he looked at him with that intensity that made him feel naked.

“That was… different,” Walker murmured as he stood up.

Javon nodded, unsure of how to respond. But before he could say anything, Walker gave him a light pat on the shoulder.

“Good job, Rocky.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving Javon sitting alone on the fake terrace, wondering what had just happened.

Hours later, as the production team wrapped up the set, Javon stepped outside to the back of the studio for some fresh air. He needed a moment to clear his head, but, as always, Walker wasn’t far behind.

“Running away again?” Walker asked, approaching with his hands in his pockets.

Javon sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall.

“I’m not running. I just needed a moment to think.”

Walker stopped a few steps away from him, his expression more serious than usual.

“Thinking about what?”

Javon looked at him, considering whether to be honest. But before he could answer, Walker took a step closer.

“You know you don’t have to do this alone, right?” Walker said softly. “Whatever’s going on in your head, you don’t have to face it by yourself.”

Javon pressed his lips together, his emotions struggling to surface. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely a whisper.

“It’s more complicated than you think, Walker.”

Walker nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Javon’s.

“Then explain it to me. Help me understand.”

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with everything Javon was too afraid to say. But instead of speaking, he stepped toward Walker, closing the distance between them. He didn’t know what had driven him, only that he couldn’t keep hiding anymore.

Walker didn’t move, his breathing slightly quicker as his eyes searched Javon’s face for an answer.

“Rocky…” he whispered, but before he could continue, Javon stepped back, breaking the moment.

“I can’t,” he said quickly, his voice shaking.

Walker looked at him with a mix of confusion and something else, but he didn’t push.

“Alright. But when you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving Javon with the weight of his feelings and an internal battle that seemed endless.

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The set was buzzing with activity that morning. Everyone was rushing around, adjusting lights, cameras, and props for one of the movie's biggest scenes. Javon tried to focus on his script, but his mind was far too distracted. He couldn’t shake off the conversation with Walker from the night before—the moment where he had almost let all his defenses fall. He felt like he had revealed too much, yet somehow, not enough.

When Walker entered the set, everything else seemed to blur. He was talking to one of the production assistants, laughing in that effortless way that seemed to draw everyone in. He wore a fitted black t-shirt and worn jeans, and there was something about his relaxed posture that made it impossible for Javon to look away.

The assistant he was talking to was young, with long curly hair, and she seemed to be enjoying Walker’s attention far too much. She leaned toward him, laughing at every comment he made, and every gesture seemed designed to bring her closer. Javon felt a wave of irritation rising in his chest.

He tried to ignore it. It’s none of your business, he told himself. But the more he watched, the tenser he became. Walker seemed to be enjoying the attention, and that infuriated him even more.

—What’s wrong, Rocky? —one of the crew members asked as they passed, noticing his tense expression.

—Nothing —Javon replied sharply, averting his gaze.

But it wasn’t nothing. It was everything. It was the way Walker leaned toward her, the way he smiled in that way Javon had thought was reserved just for him. Her laughter rang in his ears like a reminder that Walker didn’t belong to him, and it was driving him crazy.

That day’s scene required the entire cast to be present. Their characters were gathered at a large event, which meant a lot of improvisation between the actors. Walker was in one corner of the set, chatting with some other cast members, while Javon stayed on the sidelines, watching.

At one point, Walker passed by him, brushing his arm lightly with a casual smile.

—You good? —he asked in a low voice, as if he didn’t notice the tension in Javon’s shoulders.

Javon only nodded, but his eyes flicked toward the assistant, who was still nearby, organizing some papers. Walker followed his gaze and smirked in a way that made Javon want to punch something.

—What? —Walker asked, raising an eyebrow.

—Nothing —Javon said curtly.

Walker tilted his head, studying him with that look that always seemed to see right through him.

—Are you sure? Because it looks like you want to say something.

Javon gritted his teeth, feeling his patience slipping. Finally, he spoke, his voice low but laced with irritation.

—Do you enjoy flirting with everyone?

Walker blinked, clearly surprised by the comment, but his expression quickly softened into a grin.

—Is that what you think I was doing?

—I’m not blind, Walker. I know what I saw.

Walker crossed his arms, leaning slightly toward him.

—And what if I was? Why do you care?

That question hit Javon like a punch to the gut. He didn’t know how to respond without admitting what he felt, but his silence only seemed to amuse Walker more.

—That’s what I thought —Walker said with a lopsided grin before turning to walk away.

But Javon didn’t let him. He grabbed his arm, stopping him.

—This isn’t a game, Walker —he said in a low voice, his eyes burning with an intensity that wiped the grin off Walker’s face.

—What isn’t a game? —Walker asked, his tone more serious now.

Javon hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, his voice barely a whisper.

—This. You. Me. I don’t like seeing you with other people like that.

Walker stared at him, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. There was something in his eyes, a mix of surprise and something else, something Javon couldn’t quite place.

—Why don’t you just say it outright, then? —Walker asked, stepping closer. Their voices were low enough that no one else could hear—If you want me to stop, just tell me.

Javon felt his heart pounding in his chest, but he couldn’t find the words. He was trapped between what he wanted to say and what he was afraid to admit.

Walker tilted his head, his eyes searching Javon’s.

—Do you want me to belong to you, Rocky? —he whispered, his tone soft but heavy with intent.

Javon couldn’t answer. His silence was all Walker needed. He gave a faint, almost sad smile before stepping back.

—When you’re ready to be honest, you know where to find me.

And with that, he walked away, leaving Javon standing in the middle of the set, feeling like he had just lost a battle he didn’t even realize he was fighting.

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The set was lively that morning, with the crew preparing for an action-packed scene full of quick dialogue and fast-paced movement. But for Javon, the atmosphere felt different. Something hung in the air, something that had a name and a face: Walker.

Javon had been trying to keep his distance since their last confrontation, focusing on work and suppressing the feelings that were consuming him. But Walker, as always, wasn’t making it easy.

Walker arrived on set with his usual carefree grin, talking to everyone as though there wasn’t a single problem in the world. But Javon knew better. There was something in the way Walker looked at him, as if he knew exactly what he was thinking, as if he was waiting for Javon to do something about it.

The first scene of the day had both of them in a physical confrontation—a heated exchange of words and a moment of raw silence. The director gave them precise instructions but left room for a little improvisation.

When it was time to shoot, Walker wasted no time. His character was provoking, pushing Javon to the edge until he exploded. But there was something in the way Walker delivered his lines that felt too personal, too deliberate.

“What are you going to do, huh?” Walker said, stepping closer as the cameras rolled. “You’re all talk, but you never follow through.”

Javon felt his blood boil. He knew it was all part of the script, but Walker was playing with fire, and he knew it.

“Because I’m tired of your games!” Javon shouted, grabbing Walker by the shirt as the scene called for. But when their eyes locked, something shifted. His hands trembled slightly as he felt the heat radiating from Walker’s body, and his voice dropped almost unintentionally. “I’m tired of you.”

The director called “Cut!” and praised their intensity, but Javon knew that what had just happened wasn’t entirely acting. Walker didn’t move right away, his eyes still locked on Javon’s with a mixture of defiance and something deeper.

“Good job, Rocky,” Walker murmured as they stepped apart, a smile playing on his lips that made it clear he’d enjoyed it more than he should have.

Later, during a break, Javon sat alone in a corner of the set, trying to calm himself. But, as always, Walker found him.

“Why do you always hide?” Walker asked, sitting next to him without waiting for an invitation.

Javon ignored him, but Walker didn’t let up.

“You know, that last take was pretty intense. I almost thought you were going to do something off-script.”

“I wasn’t acting,” Javon replied before he could stop himself, his voice low but loaded with meaning.

Walker raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

“Oh?” he said, leaning in slightly. “Then what was it?”

Javon stayed silent, his hands gripping the edge of his chair. He felt like Walker was cornering him, and he couldn’t find a way out.

“I don’t know,” he admitted finally, his voice barely a whisper.

Walker smiled, but this time it wasn’t mocking. It was softer, something that made Javon feel even more vulnerable.

“You’re getting close to something, Rocky. You just have to take the step.”

Javon looked at him, feeling the frustration and desire stirring inside him. But before he could respond, Walker stood up, leaning over him slightly as he spoke softly.

“I’ll get you to admit it. Maybe not today, but you will.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving Javon with his heart pounding and more questions than answers.

That evening, the cast gathered at a nearby bar to celebrate the progress they’d made filming. Javon hadn’t planned on going, but he eventually decided that a distraction might help clear his mind. However, as soon as he walked in, he spotted Walker on the other side of the room, surrounded by castmates and flashing that charming smile that seemed to draw everyone toward him.

Javon tried to stay on the sidelines, but Walker wouldn’t allow it. He crossed the room with a drink in hand, stopping right in front of him.

“I knew you’d come,” Walker said, his voice low enough that only Javon could hear.

“I’m not here to talk to you,” Javon replied, trying to sound firm.

Walker chuckled softly, taking a sip of his drink before responding.

“Then why can’t you stop looking at me?”

Javon felt heat rise to his face, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he tried to step away, but Walker stopped him, placing a hand on his arm.

“Admitting it won’t kill you, you know,” Walker whispered, his eyes searching Javon’s.

“Admit what?” Javon asked, even though he knew exactly what Walker meant.

Walker leaned in a little closer, his breath brushing against Javon’s skin.

“That you want me for yourself. That you can’t stand seeing me with anyone else.”

Javon closed his eyes, feeling his defenses start to crumble. But before he could say anything, Walker smiled and stepped back.

“I’ll let you think about it. But don’t take too long, Rocky. I don’t have all the time in the world.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving Javon trapped between the fight with his own feelings and the undeniable pull Walker had over him.

Chapter Text

The night was dark, with a storm battering the city and rattling the windows of Javon’s small apartment. The sound of wind and rain filled the room, but it couldn’t drown out the turmoil inside him. Days had passed since his last interaction with Walker, days spent trying to ignore his feelings, but the weight of everything unspoken was consuming him.

An unexpected call broke the silence. When Javon saw Walker’s name light up on his phone screen, his heart stopped for a moment. He hesitated before answering, finally sliding his finger across the screen.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice harsher than he intended.

“I need to see you,” Walker said on the other end, his tone unusually serious. “I’m downstairs. Please.”

Javon looked out the window. Despite the storm, he could make out a figure standing in the rain, waiting outside his building. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh, and grabbed a jacket before heading downstairs.

When he stepped outside, the rain hit him immediately, drenching him within seconds. Walker stood there, without an umbrella, his clothes clinging to his body and his hair plastered to his forehead. But what caught Javon’s attention wasn’t Walker’s state—it was the intensity in his gaze.

“What are you doing here?” Javon shouted to be heard over the roar of the storm.

“I needed to talk to you,” Walker replied, stepping closer. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”

Javon frowned, his frustration rising.

“Talk about what? About how much fun you’re having playing with me? About how much you enjoy watching me lose my mind every time you’re around?”

Walker shook his head, his hands trembling, though it wasn’t clear if it was from the cold or something else.

“It’s not a game, Javon. It never was.”

“Oh, really?” Javon shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because to me, it sure looks like one. Everything about you is a provocation—your smiles, your challenges, everything.”

Walker stared at him, his expression pained.

“Do you think this is easy for me?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly. “Do you think I enjoy feeling this way and not knowing if you feel the same?”

The confession hit Javon like a bolt of lightning. He stepped back, unable to process what he had just heard.

“What are you saying?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Walker stepped closer, closing the distance between them.

“I’m saying I want you, Javon. And I’m tired of pretending I don’t.”

The world seemed to stop. The rain kept pouring down, but all Javon could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat. He looked at Walker, his face soaked but filled with a sincerity Javon couldn’t ignore.

“Walker...” Javon began, but his voice broke.

“No. Let me finish,” Walker interrupted, his eyes shining with a mix of desperation and hope. “I’ve waited so long for you to say something, anything, but now I realize I can’t keep waiting. If you don’t feel the same, I’ll accept it. But I need to know. I need to know if I’m alone in this.”

Javon felt his defenses crumbling. Everything he had tried to repress, everything he had denied, rose to the surface all at once.

“You’re not alone,” he finally said, his voice breaking with emotion. “Damn it, Walker, you’re not alone.”

Walker stared at him, surprised, but he didn’t say anything, waiting for Javon to continue.

“Do you want to know why I’m always so tense? Why I keep my distance?” Javon asked, his voice trembling. “Because I don’t know how to handle this. I don’t know how to handle what I feel for you. You terrify me, Walker. You terrify me because of how you make me lose control.”

Walker stepped closer, until they were only inches apart.

“You don’t have to handle it alone,” he said softly. “I’m here. I’ve always been here.”

Javon felt tears mixing with the rain as he looked at Walker, unable to hold back any longer.

“I love you, Walker,” he finally confessed, his voice barely a whisper. “I love you, and I hate how you make me feel, but at the same time, I can’t imagine being without this.”

For a moment, Walker said nothing. He simply looked at him, his expression full of an emotion Javon couldn’t describe. Then, slowly, he raised a hand and placed it on Javon’s cheek, his touch warm despite the cold rain.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” Walker said, his voice soft but firm.

And then, without another word, he closed the distance between them, his lips meeting Javon’s in a kiss that seemed to hold everything they had kept inside for so long. The rain kept falling, but for them, the world had disappeared.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, but for the first time in a long time, Javon felt like he could breathe.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” Walker said with a small smile.

Javon nodded, a faint smile appearing on his own face.

“Nothing worth it ever is.”

And with that, they stayed there, standing in the rain, knowing that while the road ahead would be complicated, they had finally found the courage to face it together.

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The rain had stopped, but the echo of Javon’s confession still lingered in the air. His and Walker’s world had shifted in an instant—a change they couldn’t ignore. But now that emotions had spilled over, reality began to loom like an inevitable shadow.

The set was quiet that morning. Javon arrived early, as always, but his thoughts were more chaotic than ever. They had agreed not to talk about the kiss, at least for now. Both knew that what had happened between them was a radical change, but neither knew how to face it outside the intimacy of that stormy night.

Walker arrived shortly after, his usual smile dimmer but still present. He greeted the crew with his characteristic ease, but when his eyes met Javon’s, they both knew something was different.

The day’s scene was simple—a quiet moment between their characters sharing a brief conversation. But for them, the camera wasn’t the only thing they had to perform for. The weight of the unspoken hung on every word, every look.

“Why do you always make things more complicated than they need to be?” Javon’s character asked, his tone slightly irritated.

“Because important things are never easy,” Walker replied, following the script but adding an intensity that made Javon avert his gaze.

The director shouted, “Cut!” pleased with the take, but Javon knew the tension wasn’t just in the scene. As he walked away, he felt Walker approach.

“You okay?” Walker asked quietly, his tone laced with concern.

“I don’t know,” Javon admitted, avoiding his gaze. “This… all of this… is so much more complicated than I thought.”

Walker nodded, staying silent for a moment before replying.

“I know. But we’re not alone in this.”

Later, during a break, Javon and Walker found a moment alone in a corner of the set. Javon leaned against a wall, arms crossed, staring at the ground. Walker approached cautiously, knowing that any wrong word could make things worse.

“What’s on your mind?” Walker asked, keeping his voice low.

“Everything,” Javon replied, letting out a sigh. “How do we do this? We’re actors, Walker. Everything we do is under a damn microscope. And it’s not just that. It’s the fans, the press, our careers… our privacy. How do we handle that?”

Walker stayed quiet for a moment, considering his words.

“I don’t have all the answers,” he admitted finally. “But I know I don’t want to hide this forever. I don’t want to pretend I don’t feel what I feel for you just because other people won’t understand.”

Javon looked at him, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and admiration.

“That sounds easy, but it’s not. There are expectations, Walker. We’re two young guys in an industry that isn’t fully ready for this. And it’s not just that…” Javon hesitated before continuing. “There are people who’ll see us as something that doesn’t fit into their idea of what we’re supposed to be.”

Walker took a step closer, standing directly in front of him.

“So what if we don’t fit? I’ve never been one to follow the rules, and you shouldn’t be either. If we’re in this together, we’ll face it, no matter what.”

“And what if this ruins our careers?” Javon asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Walker placed a hand on his shoulder, his touch firm but comforting.

“If it ruins our careers, then we’ll find another way to keep going. But I’m not going to live my life to please other people. And I don’t want you to either.”

Javon let out a sigh, leaning his head back against the wall.

“This is terrifying.”

“I know,” Walker replied. “But it’s real. And I think it’s worth it.”

That night, Javon couldn’t sleep. He stayed awake, staring at the ceiling of his room as all the possibilities ran through his mind. He knew Walker was right, but the fear was a difficult enemy to defeat. He wasn’t just worried about what the industry would say—he was also worried about how the fans, his family, and even the people they worked with would react.

Machismo was still a specter that loomed over their world, especially among the more conservative sectors of their audience. He had heard the comments before, even when they weren’t directed at him. Words filled with prejudice, uncomfortable laughter, whispers that turned into knives in the air. Now, those same words felt like a tangible threat.

But there was something stronger than the fear: the image of Walker. His smile, his voice, the way he made Javon feel alive. As terrifying as it was, Javon knew he couldn’t turn back now.

The next day, Walker was waiting for him when he arrived on set. He didn’t say anything, but his gaze was enough for Javon to know that he understood.

“We’ll talk after filming,” Javon said quietly as he walked past him.

Walker nodded, letting the day take its course. But they both knew that the conversation waiting for them would be the beginning of something far bigger than themselves.

Chapter Text

The first article came out a week later.

"Are Walker Scobell and Javon Walton More Than Friends? On-set photos reveal an unexpected closeness between the young actors."

Javon had tried to avoid it—he didn’t want to search his name online or pay attention to the rumors. But the notifications on his phone were relentless. His inbox was flooded with messages, and his social media mentions were overwhelmed with comments ranging from curiosity to outright hate.

Walker called him that same night.

“Did you see it?” Walker asked, his voice calm but tinged with concern.

“It’s impossible not to,” Javon replied, letting his phone fall onto the table and running his hands through his hair. “Everyone is seeing it.”

“And?” Walker paused before continuing. “How do you feel?”

Javon let out a long, heavy sigh.

“How do you think I feel? I’m terrified. This isn’t just a rumor, Walker. This is our life. Do you know what it means for us if this becomes real?”

“I know,” Walker said softly, his voice steady. “But we can’t keep pretending it doesn’t matter. Because it does.”

The next day on set was chaos. The crew and other actors avoided looking directly at them, as if the tension between them was an unspoken secret. The producers called them into a private meeting, and their tone was anything but understanding.

“What is this?” one of them demanded, tossing a printed copy of the article onto the table.

Javon and Walker exchanged a brief glance before Walker spoke up.

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” he said calmly, though his jaw was tight.

“This could ruin the production,” another producer interrupted, his tone verging on anger. “Contracts, sponsors, investors... everything is at risk!”

“At risk for what?” Walker leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with defiance. “A rumor? Or the fact that we don’t fit into the image you want to sell?”

“This isn’t about that,” the producer replied, though his voice betrayed his discomfort. “It’s about protecting the integrity of the project. This isn’t something the public is ready to accept.”

Javon felt his chest tighten but couldn’t bring himself to speak. Walker’s words reverberated through the room, but the weight of judgment was palpable.

That night, social media exploded. Some fans supported what they called "the cutest secret relationship in Hollywood." Others, however, were far less kind. Waves of hateful messages arrived: insults, veiled threats, and criticisms of their character and masculinity.

Javon sat on the couch in his living room, staring at his phone screen with a mix of disbelief and fear. Walker showed up unannounced, entering as if he were already a part of Javon’s everyday life.

“What are you doing here?” Javon asked without looking up.

Walker sat next to him, taking the phone out of his hands.

“Stop. You don’t need to read that.”

“How can I not read it?” Javon looked at him, his voice breaking. “How can I ignore that there are people who literally want me gone just because... because of this?”

Walker looked at him with a mix of tenderness and sadness before responding.

“Because they don’t matter. They don’t get to dictate who you are or what you feel.”

“But they do.” Javon stood up, pacing back and forth. “This affects everything, Walker! Our careers, our families, our personal lives. I can’t... I can’t do this.”

Walker stood and grabbed Javon by the shoulders, stopping him in his tracks.

“Listen, I’m not going to tell you this will be easy. Because it won’t be. But do you want to hide forever? To live in fear that someone will discover the truth? I don’t want that, Javon. I want to walk with you without worrying about who’s watching. I want to be honest, with you and with myself.”

Walker’s words struck a chord deep in Javon. But the fear lingered, heavy and undeniable.

“I don’t know if I can do it, Walker,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Walker replied. “I’m here, and I’ll be here, no matter what.”

The following days were a whirlwind. The producers gave them an official warning: keep things discreet or face the consequences. But discretion was nearly impossible when every glance, every gesture, was scrutinized by cameras and obsessive fans.

One day, while they were on set, a group of reporters managed to sneak into the restricted area. Javon and Walker were bombarded with questions:

“Is it true what they’re saying?”
“Is there something between you two?”
“Are you going to confirm or deny it?”

Walker grabbed Javon’s arm, guiding him away from the chaos as security tried to contain the reporters. When they were finally alone, Javon snapped.

“This is insane, Walker! We can’t keep doing this.”

“Then let’s say it,” Walker replied, his tone calm but resolute.

“Say what? That we’re together?” Javon looked at him in disbelief. “Do you know what that means? They’ll destroy us.”

Walker stared at him, his expression filled with determination.

“Maybe. But at least I won’t be pretending. And I don’t want you to pretend either.”

The silence between them was heavy, filled with all the things they hadn’t yet said. But for the first time, Javon began to consider that maybe, just maybe, facing the truth was better than living in fear.

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The announcement had been a crucial step, a moment that marked a before and after in their lives. They had decided to face the world together, but tonight wasn’t about social media, rumors, or judgment. Tonight was just for them, a space they had earned with courage.

When they arrived at Walker’s apartment, everything felt slower, heavier, but not in a bad way. It was as if the air was charged with something neither of them could ignore. Walker shut the door behind them, and the click of the lock echoed in the silence.

“Are you sure about this?” Walker asked, his voice softer than Javon had ever heard it.

Javon didn’t respond with words. Instead, he took a step closer, his eyes searching Walker’s with a mixture of nerves and determination. He lifted a hand and placed it gently on Walker’s cheek, letting his thumb trace a slow path along his skin. It was a small gesture, but full of meaning.

Walker closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into Javon’s touch. When he opened them again, the intensity in his gaze left Javon breathless.

The first kiss was slow, almost timid, as if they were exploring uncharted territory. But soon, the gentleness gave way to something deeper, more urgent. Javon felt Walker’s hands grip his waist, pulling him closer with a firmness that didn’t rush, as if Walker wanted to ensure every second was etched into memory.

Walker slid his hands to Javon’s shoulders, carefully removing his jacket. The garment fell to the floor, forgotten, as his fingers found the hem of Javon’s shirt. He lifted the fabric slowly, his hands brushing against the warm skin of Javon’s abdomen before moving up to his chest. Javon raised his arms to help, and when the shirt was tossed aside, he felt the cool air against his skin mixed with the heat of Walker’s breath.

“You’re incredible,” Walker murmured, his eyes taking in every inch of Javon’s torso.

Javon’s heart raced, but he said nothing. Instead, his hands moved to Walker’s shirt, unbuttoning it one by one. His fingers fumbled at first, but soon found their rhythm. When he finally slid the shirt from Walker’s shoulders, he stood there, taking in the way the apartment lights cast shadows over Walker’s muscles.

Walker stepped closer, leaning in to kiss Javon again. This time, the kiss was deeper, more insistent. His hands traveled across Javon’s back, leaving a trail of warmth as they moved down to the curve of his waist. Javon responded by running his fingers along Walker’s neck, slowly tracing down to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath his palm.

“Come here,” Walker said softly, taking Javon’s hand and guiding him to the couch.

They sank into the cushions, their bodies entwined in a dance they hadn’t rehearsed but that felt perfectly synchronized. Walker leaned over Javon, his lips exploring not just his mouth, but his jawline, his neck, and further down, leaving a trail of kisses that ignited every nerve in Javon’s body.

Javon arched his back as Walker’s hands found his waist, sliding upward to explore every line of his torso. It was as if each movement was a promise, a confirmation of everything they had kept inside for so long.

“Walker…” Javon murmured, his voice heavy with emotion.

Walker lifted his gaze, his eyes locking with Javon’s.

“I’m here,” he replied, his tone firm but filled with tenderness.

Javon’s hands moved to Walker’s belt buckle, hesitating for a moment before continuing. Walker helped him, unbuckling it with ease before doing the same with Javon’s jeans. One by one, the garments fell to the floor, leaving them both exposed but not vulnerable. There was something in this intimacy that made them feel stronger, more connected.

Walker slid a hand down Javon’s leg, moving slowly upward as his lips found his again. Javon closed his eyes, losing himself in the sensations. Every touch, every kiss, was like lightning coursing through his body, igniting something he had never experienced before.

That night was a mosaic of emotions and sensations. There were moments of soft laughter, of whispered words only they could understand. There were hands exploring carefully, touching every corner as if trying to memorize it all. There were pauses to look into each other’s eyes, to ensure they were both fully present in each second.

When silence finally settled over them, their bodies tangled under a light blanket, Javon felt a peace he hadn’t known before. He rested his head on Walker’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I love you,” Walker murmured, his voice a whisper that filled the space between them.

Javon closed his eyes, letting the words carve themselves into his soul.

“I love you too,” he replied, and for the first time, he said it without fear.

In that room, under the soft glow of the lamps, they found something that no amount of criticism or prejudice could take away: the freedom to be themselves, together.

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The morning arrived with a stillness that contrasted with the intensity of the previous night. The first rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds in Walker’s apartment, softly illuminating their intertwined bodies. Javon was the first to wake, his head resting on Walker’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was a sound that filled him with a calm he couldn’t remember feeling before.

He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break the moment, but his thoughts began to flood his mind like a tide. What happens next? he wondered. They had taken a huge step, confessing their feelings and finally giving in to what they felt. But that didn’t erase the challenges they still faced.

Walker stirred slightly, wrapping his arm more tightly around Javon’s waist. He opened his eyes slowly, meeting Javon’s restless gaze.

“What are you thinking about?” Walker asked, his voice still husky with sleep.

Javon sighed, resting his hand on Walker’s chest, where his heartbeat remained steady.

“About us,” he answered honestly. “About how complicated this is going to be.”

Walker propped himself up on one elbow to look at him better.

“We knew it wouldn’t be easy, Javon. But what happened last night… what I feel for you…” He paused, searching for the right words. “It’s worth any complication.”

Javon looked away, a small smile playing on his lips. Despite the fear, there was something comforting in Walker’s certainty. But the outside world wasn’t as simple, and he knew it.

“So, what do we do now?” he finally asked, his voice softer, almost vulnerable.

Walker leaned in, pressing a brief but firm kiss to Javon’s forehead.

“We live,” he said. “We live our lives, together, and face whatever comes. One step at a time.”

That "one step at a time" began later that morning, when they decided to leave the apartment together. They hadn’t spoken much more about it, but it wasn’t necessary. There was a silent connection between them, a newly discovered trust that gave them strength. Javon had dressed simply, in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, while Walker wore a gray hoodie that seemed made for him.

Even the smallest moment, like walking to the car together, felt full of meaning. When Walker opened the passenger door for Javon, he looked at him with a mix of surprise and amusement.

“So, you’re a gentleman now?” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Walker smiled, leaning slightly toward him.

“Only for you, Rocky.”

Javon felt warmth in his chest, something that wasn’t typical for him but that he was starting to embrace.

The day passed with relative normalcy. They were used to the stares on set, but now those glances seemed loaded with curiosity and speculation. Some of their coworkers greeted them as usual, while others seemed to avoid interaction altogether, as if afraid of being dragged into the attention they were receiving.

The scene they filmed that day required them to work together in a moment of high emotional tension. Their performance flowed almost naturally, as if what they felt for each other had found a way to express itself even through their characters.

When the director called “Cut!” there was a momentary silence on set before someone began to clap. The intensity of their performance had captured everyone, but Javon knew that what they had shown on screen wasn’t just fiction. It was a small fraction of what they truly felt.

Walker approached him as they reviewed the takes on the monitor.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his tone meant only for him.

Javon nodded, but the tight line of his jaw betrayed him. Walker touched his arm, a brief but comforting gesture.

“If you need a break, we can step out for a bit.”

“No,” Javon said, shaking his head. “I’m fine. I just need to get used to this.”

Walker looked at him for a few seconds before nodding.

“I’m here. For all of it.”

That night, when they returned to the apartment, the silence between them was different. It wasn’t uncomfortable but instead filled with everything they hadn’t said during the day. Javon sat on the couch, letting his head fall back as he exhaled deeply. Walker sat beside him, watching him carefully.

“It was a long day,” Walker finally said, breaking the silence.

Javon let out a soft laugh, not opening his eyes.

“‘Long’ is an understatement.”

Walker smiled, leaning toward him. He placed a hand on Javon’s leg, squeezing it slightly to get his attention.

“Hey, look at me.”

Javon opened his eyes, turning toward Walker. There was something in his expression, a mix of tenderness and determination, that left him speechless.

“We’ve been through a lot these past few days, but I want you to know something.” Walker took his hand, intertwining their fingers. “No matter what happens out there, what they say, what they try to do to us—if we’re together, we can handle it.”

Javon swallowed hard, feeling his chest tighten. Walker always had a way of saying exactly what he needed to hear.

“Thank you,” he murmured, squeezing Walker’s hand.

Walker leaned closer, his lips brushing against Javon’s in a kiss that was soft, slow, and full of unspoken promises. And though the world outside was still chaotic, in that moment, within those four walls, everything was right.

Chapter Text

The tension began to manifest the very next day. It wasn’t just the pressure on set, the glances from coworkers, or the growing rumors. It was something else, something that started within Javon and couldn’t be ignored: a need to protect what he had found with Walker, to ensure that no one and nothing came between them.

It started small, almost insignificant. A conversation. Walker was talking to one of the crew assistants, a woman who, while friendly, seemed far too interested in everything Walker said. Javon watched them from across the set, his arms crossed over his chest as he tried to focus on his script. But the way she laughed at everything Walker said, how she leaned closer to him, made something inside Javon simmer with anger.

“What are you doing?” Javon asked, walking up to Walker the moment he had the chance.

Walker looked up, surprised by Javon’s tone.

“Talking, why?”

“Talking. Right.” Javon’s jaw tightened. “It doesn’t look like she’s just interested in conversation.”

Walker frowned, though a small smile started to play on his lips.

“Are you jealous, Rocky?”

“I’m not jealous,” Javon replied immediately, though his tone betrayed him. “I just think you should be more careful about who you get close to.”

Walker took a step toward him, lowering his voice so no one else could hear.

“Javon, I’m not interested in her. You know that.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s not interested in you,” Javon shot back, his intense gaze locked on Walker’s eyes. “And I don’t like the idea of anyone thinking they have a chance with you. Because they don’t.”

Walker stared at him for a few moments, the smile fading slowly from his face.

“What’s this about?” Walker asked, his tone more serious. “Is it just about her, or is there something else you’re not saying?”

Javon looked away, trying to control the impulse to say something that might complicate things further. But Walker didn’t give him the chance.

“Javon, if you’ve got something to say, say it.”

Finally, Javon looked back at him, his expression brimming with emotion.

“You’re mine, Walker. I don’t want to share you with anyone—not even in their thoughts or their glances.”

Walker was silent for a moment, processing Javon’s words. Eventually, he let out a small laugh, though there was no mockery in it.

“Do you realize how intense you sound right now?”

“I don’t care,” Javon replied, taking a step closer. “I don’t care if I sound intense, dramatic, or whatever. What I care about is you knowing that I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”

Walker held his gaze, his breathing quickening slightly.

“And how do you plan to make sure of that?” Walker asked, his tone more challenging than before.

Javon didn’t answer right away. Instead, he raised a hand and placed it on the back of Walker’s neck, pulling him close enough that only he could hear his words.

“By making sure no one doubts who you belong to.”

That afternoon, as they continued working on set, the energy between them had shifted. Walker hadn’t said anything more after their confrontation, but the way he looked at Javon was different—more intense, as if something in his words had struck a chord.

When the day ended, Walker suggested going out for dinner, but Javon had other plans. He took Walker to his own apartment, a space he rarely shared with anyone. The gesture alone made it clear how much Walker meant to him.

“Why here?” Walker asked as they walked in.

“Because I want this to be our space,” Javon replied, shutting the door behind them. “A place where no one else can intrude. Just you and me.”

Walker turned to him, his eyes softening.

“Are you trying to mark your territory, Rocky?”

“Maybe,” Javon admitted, stepping closer. “But it’s not just that. I want you to know that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work. To protect what we have.”

Walker observed him for a few seconds before stepping even closer, placing a hand on Javon’s chest.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me, Javon. I already know how much I mean to you. But I want you to know that I’m not someone who needs protecting. I’m here because I want to be, not because I feel trapped.”

Javon nodded, though he could still feel the heat of his own jealousy burning inside him. It wasn’t something he could easily extinguish, but for now, Walker’s words were enough to calm him.

That night, as they shared a simple dinner in the apartment, Javon began to relax. There was something about the way Walker filled the space, how he made even silences feel comfortable, that made Javon forget about the chaos surrounding them.

But deep down, a part of him knew that the fight to keep Walker close had only just begun. Because in a world full of stares and judgment, the price of their love was to protect it at all costs.

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The afternoon sun streamed through the set’s windows, bathing everything in a warm glow. Days on set were still a mix of routine and tension, but something about today felt different. Walker hadn’t said much since the morning, and although his smile was still there, a subtle distance in his gestures didn’t go unnoticed by Javon.

Javon was in a corner, reviewing his script, when a co-star approached him. She was friendly, with an easy laugh and a personality that drew people in. She leaned slightly toward Javon, pointing at something in the script with a wide smile.

“Do you mind if we go over this part together?” she asked, her tone kind but clearly interested.

Javon, always eager to work, nodded, and they began rehearsing. There were occasional laughs when one of them fumbled a line, and the conversation flowed naturally. But what Javon didn’t see was Walker watching them from across the set. His relaxed posture had shifted; his arms were crossed, and his lips were pressed into a thin line.

Every laugh between Javon and the woman seemed louder in Walker’s mind, every gesture a small dagger pricking his patience. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Having fun?” Walker asked as soon as Javon stepped away from the co-star, his tone seemingly calm but laced with something deeper.

Javon looked up, confused by Walker’s tone.

“What?” he replied, not understanding the question.

Walker stepped closer, his eyes locked on Javon’s.

“With her. You two seem to be getting along pretty well.”

Javon frowned, finally realizing what Walker was implying.

“Walker, I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but it’s not what you think.”

Walker let out a short laugh, though there was no humor in it.

“Isn’t it? Because from here, it looked like you were really enjoying her company.”

Javon took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He knew jealousy was a dangerous emotion, one that could spiral out of control if not handled carefully, and he didn’t want this moment to escalate.

“Walker, listen to me,” he said, his voice firm but still gentle. “There is absolutely no one in this world I want more than you. No one.”

Walker looked away, his jaw tightening. Javon stepped closer, closing the distance between them.

“Look at me,” Javon insisted, his tone low but commanding.

Walker lifted his eyes, and in them, Javon saw a mix of insecurity and anger he couldn’t ignore.

“I want you, Walker. Only you. It doesn’t matter how many people talk to me, it doesn’t matter how many try to get close. You are the only one who matters to me, the only one who has my heart. And if you’ve ever doubted that, let me make it clear now.”

Javon extended a hand, gently placing his fingers on Walker’s jaw, holding his gaze.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice low but intense. “And I’m yours. There’s no room for anyone else.”

Walker stared at him, and for a moment, all the weight of his emotions seemed to crumble. He let out a sigh, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again.

“I just can’t stand the thought of losing you,” he admitted finally, his voice heavy with vulnerability.

Javon smiled, leaning in until their foreheads almost touched.

“You’ll never lose me, Walker. Never. But you have to trust me. Trust us.”

Walker nodded slowly, his lips curving into a faint smile.

“I do. I just… I can’t help it sometimes.”

Javon pressed a brief kiss to Walker’s lips, a gesture that needed no words.

Later, as they left the set together, the tension between them had dissipated. Walker still seemed a bit thoughtful, but there was a new calmness in his demeanor, as if Javon’s words had begun to heal the wounds jealousy had left behind.

When they arrived at the apartment, Javon grabbed Walker’s hand before he could step inside.

“Wait,” he said, stopping him.

Walker turned to him, confused.

“What is it?”

Javon didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked at Walker with an intensity that made him freeze.

“I want you to remember this,” Javon said, his voice low but firm. “No matter what happens, what people say, or what they try to do to tear us apart. You are the only person I want. The only one.”

Walker nodded, his gaze softer now.

“I know. I just needed to hear it.”

Javon smiled, leaning in to give him another kiss, this one deeper, more filled with promises.

“And you can be sure that I’ll always remind you.”

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The day began under a cloudy sky, a perfect metaphor for Javon’s mood. Since they had decided not to completely hide their relationship, things hadn’t been as easy as he’d hoped. While he didn’t regret choosing Walker, there was a constant discomfort that grew with every public interaction, with every curious glance he felt on them.

That day, they decided to go for a walk in the city. It was a simple plan, an attempt to spend time together outside of the set, away from the cameras and work tensions. Walker had insisted that they needed a normal day, like any couple. But from the moment they left the apartment, Javon felt the weight of every step.

They walked side by side, but not close enough. Javon wanted to intertwine his hand with Walker’s, but the fear of judgment from people passing by stopped him. Walker, for his part, seemed distracted, his attention divided between his phone and the shop windows. Javon couldn’t help but feel a twinge of resentment.

“Are you okay?” Walker asked suddenly, not looking up from his phone.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Javon replied quickly, but he knew his tone wasn’t convincing.

Walker looked up, frowning.

“You don’t seem fine. What’s wrong?”

Javon stopped, glancing around to make sure no one was too close. Finally, he let out a sigh.

“It’s just… this doesn’t feel the way I thought it would.”

Walker looked at him, confused.

“What doesn’t?”

“This. Us. Being together in public.” Javon made a broad gesture with his hands. “I feel like everything we do is awkward. Like it’s forbidden for me to…” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “To touch you, or to look at you the way I want to.”

Walker seemed at a loss for words for a moment. Finally, he looked down.

“We knew it wouldn’t be easy, Javon. This isn’t something a lot of people are used to seeing. But we can’t let that stop us.”

“It’s not just that,” Javon said, his voice firmer now. “It’s that it doesn’t feel the same. It’s not like when I was dating a girl. Then, I could hold her hand, kiss her cheek, even hug her in public, and no one said anything. With us… it feels like everything is under a microscope.”

Walker sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I know. But that’s part of what it means to be us. We can’t compare it to something else, because it’s not the same. And it’s okay for it to be different.”

“Okay?” Javon repeated, his tone full of frustration. “It doesn’t feel okay. And I feel like you’re not doing much to help.”

Walker tensed, his eyes flashing with a mix of surprise and something darker.

“What do you mean by that?”

“That you seem uncomfortable too. You’re always looking around, like you’re waiting for someone to see us and judge us. And I… I don’t know if I can handle this, Walker.”

Walker stared at him for a moment before shaking his head.

“That’s not fair, Javon. It’s not fair for you to think I’m not trying. I’m here, aren’t I? I’m with you.”

“Yes, but just being here isn’t enough,” Javon replied, his voice cracking slightly. He didn’t want to say it, but the words escaped before he could stop them.

The silence between them became unbearable. Finally, Walker took a step back.

“Maybe you need to think about what you really want. Because this… this can’t be forced.”

And with that, he started walking back, leaving Javon standing alone in the middle of the street.

That night, Javon returned to the apartment and sank onto the couch, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He looked at his reflection in the window, the silhouette of someone who no longer knew who he was or what he wanted.

“Is it worth it?” he murmured to himself, his voice barely a whisper.

He knew Walker was important to him, that he loved him. But the discomfort, the constant sense of limitation, was wearing him down. He had imagined being together would be liberating, but instead, he felt trapped in a space where he couldn’t fully be himself.

“Is this what I want?” he asked, his voice stronger this time.

He thought about how hard it was to navigate a relationship like this, how different it was from anything he’d known before. He thought about Walker, about his smile, about the way he made him feel whole in private moments. But he also thought about how, in public, everything seemed to fall apart, how they both seemed to be walking a tightrope.

He closed his eyes, letting a tear roll down his cheek.

“Can I keep doing this? Can we keep doing this?”

He didn’t have the answers, but he knew he’d have to face them soon. Because love wasn’t enough if both of them kept carrying the weight of their own insecurities.

Chapter Text

The discomfort between Javon and Walker had become a constant presence, like a shadow that followed them wherever they went. What used to feel natural now seemed forced—every word measured, every gesture restrained. And the worst part was that they both knew it, yet neither was willing to acknowledge it.

That afternoon, they decided to go out for lunch, an idea that normally would have excited them both, but this time it was laced with tension. They walked to a small, quiet restaurant, avoiding anywhere too crowded. Even though they were together, the distance between them was palpable.

Once seated at the table, silence took over. Javon flipped through the menu without actually reading it, while Walker played with the silverware, avoiding eye contact.

“Are you going to order something, or are you just going to keep staring at the menu like you’re not here?” Walker finally asked, his tone laced with impatience.

Javon looked up, his eyebrows furrowing.

“And are you going to stop acting like you don’t want to be here?” he replied, his voice harsher than he intended.

Walker sighed, setting the silverware down on the table.

“Don’t start, Javon. I’m just trying to keep things… normal.”

“Normal?” Javon repeated with a bitter laugh. “What’s normal for us now, Walker? Because none of this feels like it.”

Walker stared at him, his jaw tightening.

“Maybe if you stopped overanalyzing everything, things would be easier.”

“Easier?” Javon dropped the menu on the table and leaned forward toward Walker. “Nothing about this is easy. And you know it.”

Walker didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the window, as if searching for an escape from the conversation. That gesture was enough to turn Javon’s irritation into something deeper.

“See?” Javon said, his voice now lower but full of emotion. “You can’t even look at me when we talk about this. You’re always avoiding the problem, like ignoring it will make it go away.”

Walker turned his head sharply, his eyes now filled with a mix of defiance and frustration.

“And what do you want me to do, Javon? Stand up and shout to the world that I love you? Ignore the stares, the comments, everything around us? Because it seems like nothing I do is enough for you.”

Javon’s pride flared at those words, but behind his anger, something inside him cracked.

“It’s not about shouting it to the world, Walker. It’s about feeling like we’re on the same team. And right now, I don’t feel that.”

Walker let out a dry laugh, shaking his head.

“Really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like the only problem here is that you’re not sure if this is what you want.”

That comment hit Javon like a punch, leaving him speechless for a moment. Finally, he pressed his lips together and stood up from the table.

“Maybe I’m not,” he said, his voice low but firm.

Walker stared at him, stunned by the confession. Before he could respond, Javon was already walking out of the restaurant, leaving behind the table, the food, and Walker.

Javon walked aimlessly through the streets, the cold afternoon air helping to clear his mind. But with each step, Walker’s words kept echoing in his head. “The only problem is that you’re not sure.” Maybe he was right. Maybe all of this was too much for him. But at the same time, he knew what he felt for Walker wasn’t something he could ignore.

Eventually, he found a quiet park and sat on a bench, letting his thoughts overwhelm him. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at the ground.

“Is it worth it?” he murmured to himself, his voice barely a whisper.

He thought about everything they’d been through together—the good moments and the bad. He thought about how Walker made him feel when they were alone, but also about the discomfort that overtook them in public. It wasn’t what he had imagined. It wasn’t like being with a girl, where everything seemed simpler, more accepted. With Walker, every step was a battle, every gesture a challenge.

“Why does it have to be so complicated?” he asked, his voice louder this time.

The discomfort, the pride, the expectations—all of it was building up, creating a barrier that felt impossible to overcome. But what hurt the most was the feeling that Walker was struggling too and that neither of them knew how to fix it.

He closed his eyes, letting a solitary tear roll down his cheek.

“Is love enough to endure all this?” he whispered to the empty air.

He knew he needed answers, but at that moment, all he had were questions. And the weight of those questions was beginning to feel unbearable.

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The morning was cold and gray, a perfect reflection of Javon’s emotional state. Days had passed since his last meaningful conversation with Walker, and the silence between them had become an impenetrable barrier. Javon knew they couldn’t go on like this, that something had to change, but he wasn’t prepared for what was coming.

That afternoon, they decided to meet at a quiet café, a place where they could talk without interruptions. Walker arrived first, sitting in a corner with a cup of coffee in front of him. When Javon walked in, Walker looked up and offered him a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Thanks for coming,” Walker said as Javon sat across from him.

“We need to talk,” Javon responded directly, his tone more serious than usual.

Walker nodded, stirring his coffee, though he didn’t seem particularly interested in drinking it.

“I know,” he said, pausing before continuing. “Where do you want to start?”

Javon took a deep breath, searching for the right words.

“I want to know something, Walker. I want to know if you’re really committed to this. To us.”

Walker looked up, his expression tense.

“Javon, it’s not that I don’t want to be with you. It’s just… I’m not sure this is the right thing for us.”

Those words hit Javon like a bucket of cold water.

“The right thing?” he repeated, trying to keep calm. “What does that mean? Are you saying you don’t think we should be together?”

Walker sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m not saying that exactly. I just… feel like we’re forcing this. That instead of doing this out of love, we’re fighting against something that’s wearing us down.”

Javon stared at him, his heart pounding.

“So what are you suggesting?” he asked, though he feared the answer.

Walker met his eyes, his voice tinged with a mix of sadness and resignation.

“I think we should leave this as friends.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. Javon felt like the world around him stopped for a moment. He wanted to argue, to fight back, but deep down, he knew Walker was right. What had once been a deep connection now felt like an unsustainable burden.

“Friends?” Javon repeated, his voice barely a whisper.

Walker nodded slowly.

“Yes. I still care about you, and I always will. But I think we both need some space to figure out who we are and what we really want.”

Javon lowered his gaze, his hands gripping the coffee cup in front of him. It was hard to accept, but he knew fighting wouldn’t change anything. Finally, he nodded.

“Fine. If that’s what you need, I’ll accept it.”

The conversation ended shortly after, and both left the café with a mix of relief and sadness. They decided to walk together to a nearby park, where they unexpectedly ran into someone.

“Walker!” A female voice called out from behind them. Javon turned to see a dark-haired, curly-haired girl running toward them with a wide smile.

“Samantha!” Walker replied, opening his arms to hug her.

The girl, who clearly knew Walker for a long time, quickly noticed Javon.

“And who are you?” Samantha asked, smiling as she extended a hand toward Javon.

“I’m Javon,” he said, shaking her hand and returning her smile.

“Oh, I know who you are,” Samantha said, looking him up and down with curiosity. “Walker’s told me a lot about you.”

Walker rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“Really?” Javon asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, and I have to say, you two are adorable together.” Samantha smiled knowingly, completely ignoring the tension between them.

Walker cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable.

“Sam, we’re not… together right now.”

Samantha blinked, her smile fading slightly.

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know.”

Javon, who had begun to feel more at ease in Samantha’s presence, felt the discomfort settle back in. But instead of letting the moment overwhelm him, he decided to change the subject.

“How do you two know each other?” he asked, looking at Walker.

“Sam’s been my best friend since we were kids,” Walker replied, glancing at Samantha with a small smile. “She’s always there to say the wrong thing at the worst time.”

“And I’ll always be here to remind you of what really matters,” Samantha shot back with a meaningful look, directing her words to both Walker and Javon.

That night, Javon returned to his apartment with a mix of emotions. He had accepted being friends with Walker, but the truth was, he still loved him deeply. And while Samantha’s presence had brought some relief, it also reminded him of how complicated everything had become.

As he sat on the edge of his bed, he couldn’t help but wonder if they could really stay friends. Because even though Walker had suggested the change, the void left by their relationship was something Javon wasn’t sure he could fill.

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The days following Javon and Walker’s “agreement” were anything but peaceful. While both had accepted being friends, the reality was that neither was willing to maintain that bond. Pride, pain, and unresolved emotions created a barrier that pushed them further apart.

Javon, hurt by Walker’s coldness, decided to cut all contact. He ignored the messages Walker sent at first and avoided seeing him on set unless it was strictly professional. Meanwhile, Walker seemed to accept the distance with an indifferent attitude, which only made Javon angrier.

One afternoon, while Javon was holed up in his apartment, consumed by a mix of frustration and sadness, Samantha showed up unannounced. She carried a bottle of tequila and wore a smile that didn’t quite match the tense atmosphere.

“Are you ready to stop thinking about that idiot for a few hours?” she asked, placing the bottle on the table without waiting for an answer.

Javon looked up, surprised by her sudden appearance.

“How did you know I was here?”

Samantha raised an eyebrow as if the question were unnecessary.

“Please, Walker’s not the only one who knows you. Besides, I knew you’d be holed up in here, trying to convince yourself you don’t care.” She plopped onto the couch across from him, unscrewing the bottle and pulling out two glasses from her bag. “But guess what, Javon? You do care. So, we’re going to drink until you don’t… or at least until you feel less awful.”

Javon couldn’t help but laugh, though it was a bitter sound.

“And what if I never stop caring?” he asked, taking the glass Samantha handed him.

“Then we’ll keep drinking,” she replied with a grin, clinking her glass against his.

That night was the first of many. Samantha became the confidante Javon hadn’t realized he needed. She listened without judgment, supported him through his pain, and while she occasionally defended Walker, she made it clear whose side she was on.

“Look, it’s not that I don’t care about Walker,” Samantha said one night as they shared their third round of drinks at a bar. “But honestly, he doesn’t deserve what you did for him. You gave everything, Javon. And if he couldn’t appreciate that, then that’s his problem, not yours.”

“So why are you still his friend?” Javon asked, feeling the warmth of the alcohol creeping up his cheeks.

Samantha sighed, playing with the rim of her glass.

“Because I love him. I’ve loved him since we were kids. But that doesn’t mean I can’t tell him when he’s wrong. And trust me, right now, he’s very wrong.”

Javon nodded, though he wasn’t sure if her words brought him comfort or more confusion.

Meanwhile, Walker had adopted an entirely different attitude. On set, he kept his distance but didn’t seem affected by Javon’s absence in his life. His apparent indifference only fueled Javon’s anger, who saw his behavior as disrespectful to everything they had shared.

Samantha, while trying to support Javon, couldn’t help but worry about Walker. She knew that behind his cold facade, Walker was struggling with his own pain but didn’t know how to handle it. This duality left her in an uncomfortable position, trying to maintain friendships with both while the resentment between them grew.

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” she confessed to Javon one night after he pressed her about Walker. “But you two… you’re so full of pride that you can’t see how much you need each other.”

“Walker doesn’t need me,” Javon replied bitterly. “And I don’t need someone who can’t commit.”

Samantha shook her head, looking at him with a mix of compassion and frustration.

“That’s not true, Javon. You both need each other. But until you stop fighting over who’s right, neither of you will fix this.”

However, despite her words, Samantha wasn’t entirely sure she wanted them to reconcile. While she wanted the best for both of them, she feared that trying again would only lead to more pain. So, in an attempt to avoid further hurt, she began taking small actions to keep them apart.

For instance, whenever Walker mentioned wanting to talk to Javon, Samantha would change the subject or suggest he hold off.

“I don’t think it’s the right time,” she would say with apparent sincerity. “Javon’s trying to move on. Let him breathe.”

And when Javon hinted at wanting to confront Walker, Samantha would remind him of how much he had done for him and how Walker hadn’t been up to the task.

“He doesn’t deserve you, Javon. Let him be the one to take the first step if he really cares.”

The dynamic between the three of them grew increasingly complicated. Javon and Samantha became inseparable, and while their nights of drinking and confessions helped Javon cope with his pain, they also fueled his pride. Meanwhile, Walker began to notice the growing bond between them, and though he wouldn’t admit it, he couldn’t help but feel jealous seeing Samantha, his best friend, so close to Javon.

Samantha, caught in the middle, did her best to keep the peace but knew her attempts to prevent them from hurting each other might end up keeping them apart forever. And though she didn’t want to admit it, a part of her wondered if she was making the right decisions.

Chapter Text

The nights Javon spent with Samantha had become a constant: long conversations, shared drinks, and laughter that served as a kind of improvised therapy. Although the pain of his breakup with Walker was still there, Javon found in Samantha a genuine support, someone who didn’t judge him and was always ready to remind him of his worth.

That afternoon, after a walk through the park, Samantha invited him to her house. She wanted to show him some memories from her childhood with Walker—photos and letters she had kept as treasures of their friendship. Javon accepted with a mix of curiosity and nostalgia.

“Look at this,” Samantha said, laughing as she pulled a box full of photos from her closet. “Here’s Walker in his ‘good boy’ phase.”

Javon picked up one of the photos and couldn’t help but laugh. Walker, with shorter hair and an oversized sweater, posed with a shy smile in front of a bicycle.

“I can’t believe this is him,” Javon said, smiling more genuinely than he had in days.

Samantha watched him for a moment before speaking.

“You know, I’m glad to see you laughing again. You needed it.”

Javon looked up, surprised by the sincerity in her tone.

“Thank you, Sam. For everything. For being here.”

She smiled, giving him a light punch on the shoulder.

“That’s what friends are for, Javon. Even if Walker thinks I’m a boyfriend-stealer.”

The comment took him by surprise, and he put the photo down on the table.

“What?” he asked, his voice more serious now. “Walker said that?”

Samantha sighed, setting the box aside.

“Yeah, he said that a couple of days ago. I ran into him on set, and he was pretty upset. He said I was interfering, that you and I are too close, and that…” She paused, as if deciding whether or not to continue.

“And what?” Javon pressed, his tone firmer.

“That I was acting like a boyfriend-stealer,” she admitted, her gaze fixed on the floor.

Javon felt a mix of emotions: anger, confusion, and something he didn’t want to admit—a small spark of hope. But before he could process what he’d heard, Samantha continued.

“Don’t take it the wrong way, Javon. Walker is… jealous. He’ll never admit it, but he is. And honestly, I don’t know why he acts like he doesn’t care about you when he clearly does.”

Javon took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm in his mind.

“And what did you say to him?” he asked, curious.

“I told him it wasn’t his problem. That if he really cared about you, he should be doing something to show it instead of fighting with me.” Samantha looked at him, her eyes full of determination. “But I can’t make him change, Javon. That’s up to him.”

Later, as they shared a glass of wine on the couch, Javon dared to bring up something that had been on his mind for days.

“Sometimes I think about putting my pride aside, Sam,” he admitted, staring at the red liquid in his glass. “About talking to Walker and trying to fix things.”

Samantha watched him silently before responding.

“Javon, I understand that you love him. And I’m not going to tell you not to try if that’s what you really want. But before you do, there’s something you need to know.”

Javon looked up, intrigued and slightly nervous.

“What is it?”

Samantha adjusted herself on the couch, her expression now more serious.

“Walker has always had trouble committing. Not just with you, but with everyone. He’s ended relationships before because he’s afraid of losing his independence, of feeling trapped. And while I love him dearly, I know that’s something he has to work on by himself. It’s not something you can fix for him.”

Samantha’s words hit Javon like a bucket of cold water. While part of him had already suspected this, hearing it so plainly made him doubt even more.

“Why are you telling me this now?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“Because I don’t want you to get hurt more than you already have.” Samantha took his hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re an incredible person, Javon. And you deserve someone who’s ready to give everything for you, not someone who’s still figuring out their own issues.”

Javon nodded slowly, though his thoughts remained chaotic. He loved Walker, but Samantha’s words had planted a seed of doubt that he couldn’t ignore.

That night, as he walked back home, Javon couldn’t stop thinking about what Samantha had told him. The idea that Walker might never be able to fully commit scared him. But beyond the fear, there was anger—anger at how Walker had treated him, how he had ignored him and then lashed out at Samantha for being by his side.

For the first time, Javon wondered if loving him was worth it. And while he didn’t have a clear answer, he knew the distance between them was greater than ever.

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The night of the costume party was eagerly anticipated by everyone. It was the event of the year, a chance to relax, laugh, and, of course, show off the most creative outfits. Javon had chosen a medieval knight costume, complete with a cape and a decorative sword. He hadn’t been too excited about it at first, but when he looked at himself in the mirror before leaving, he couldn’t deny he looked amazing.

He arrived at the venue intending to distract himself and stop thinking about Walker, though he knew it would be hard to avoid him. The party was full of lights, music, and people. Everything seemed lively, and for a moment, Javon thought the night might not be so bad after all.

However, that hope crumbled the moment he saw Walker walk in.

Walker had chosen a prince costume: a gold-embellished jacket, a subtle crown, and a sword that completed the look. Javon froze for a moment, noticing how, without planning it, their costumes seemed to complement each other like something out of a storybook. A knight and a prince. It was as if fate was mocking them.

But what truly captured Javon’s attention wasn’t Walker’s costume—it was the person who accompanied him. A tall, slim guy with dark hair and a charming smile was glued to Walker as if they were inseparable. The guy was dressed as a courtier, and the way he laughed and touched Walker’s arm made Javon’s stomach twist.

Javon tried to look away, but he couldn’t help watching them from a distance. Walker seemed relaxed, even happy, as he spoke to the guy. Every laugh, every gesture, was like a small stab in Javon’s heart.

“Who is he?” Javon muttered to himself, feeling the anger and jealousy begin to burn inside him.

The party went on, but Javon couldn’t focus on anything else. He decided to stay at his table, pretending to be interested in the conversations around him while stealing glances at Walker and his companion. When Walker turned and their eyes briefly met, Javon felt a shiver. But Walker didn’t do anything. He simply looked away and continued talking to the guy.

By the time the party ended and some guests suggested an afterparty at a nearby house, Javon decided he couldn’t keep letting Walker control his emotions. If Walker wanted to act happy with someone else, then he could play that game too.

At the afterparty, Javon didn’t take long to find an opportunity. A red-haired girl, dressed as a sexy witch, approached him while they were pouring drinks.

“Nice costume,” she said, smiling flirtatiously.

Javon, usually reserved in these situations, decided to seize the moment. He returned her smile and started a conversation with her. Before long, the girl was by his side, laughing and lightly touching his arm in a way he knew would draw attention.

And it worked.

From across the room, Walker noticed Javon with the girl. Though he tried to maintain his composure, the slight clenching of his jaw didn’t go unnoticed by his companion.

“Are you okay?” the guy asked, looking at him curiously.

Walker nodded quickly, changing the subject. But he couldn’t stop glancing at Javon, who seemed to be enjoying the redhead’s attention a little too much.

The night turned into a jealousy game neither was willing to lose. Walker leaned closer to his companion, whispering something in his ear that made the guy laugh loudly. Javon responded by gently placing his hand on the girl’s waist while saying something that made her blush.

At one point, both made their moves more obvious. Walker took the guy’s hand and led him to the dance floor, where they started moving to the rhythm of the music, their bodies uncomfortably close. Javon gritted his teeth but refused to back down. Instead, he took the red-haired girl’s hand and brought her to the center of the room, where they began dancing just as provocatively.

The atmosphere was charged with tension, though neither of them would admit it. Everyone around them seemed oblivious to the silent war being waged, but for Javon and Walker, every gesture, every glance, was a challenge.

When the night finally wound down and people began to leave, Javon felt a mix of satisfaction and emptiness. He had managed to get Walker’s attention, but the cost had been high. As he walked toward the door with the red-haired girl still by his side, he couldn’t help but glance back. Walker was standing there, watching him with an expression Javon couldn’t decipher. It wasn’t anger or sadness, but neither was it indifference. It was something deeper, something Javon wasn’t sure he wanted to understand.

“Shall we go?” the redhead asked, breaking the moment.

Javon nodded, leaving the venue with a sense of triumph mixed with an unease he couldn’t ignore. He knew this jealousy game wouldn’t solve anything, but for now, it was the only way he could protect what little pride he had left.

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It was an ordinary Monday, with a gray sky that seemed to mirror Javon’s mood. Samantha’s visit came out of nowhere, like a lightning strike, unexpected and with unclear intentions. When he opened the door, she stood there with an expression of false concern, though her gaze carried a hint of mischief that didn’t go unnoticed.

“I need to tell you something, but promise me you won’t get upset,” Samantha said as she walked in without waiting for an invitation.

Javon raised an eyebrow, closing the door behind her.

“Just say it, Sam.”

She sighed dramatically, as if what she was about to say was a personal sacrifice.

“Walker is throwing a big birthday party this Saturday. He invited practically everyone… except you.”

The news hit Javon like a brick, but he tried to keep his composure. He knew Walker could be prideful, but this level of exclusion hurt more than he expected.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” he said finally, trying to sound indifferent.

Samantha feigned a compassionate gesture as she sat on the couch.

“The worst part is, he invited me. He told me directly, almost like he wanted me to tell you I’d be there. But, of course, I’m not going. I’m loyal to you.”

Javon looked at her with a mix of disbelief and gratitude.

“You don’t have to do that, Sam. If you want to go, go. I don’t want you to feel stuck in the middle of this.”

Samantha shook her head firmly.

“Go? Please, it would be an insult to our friendship. Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I supported such immature behavior? Although…” she paused as if she had just remembered something. “Well, you know how Walker is. He’s always been a bit selfish.”

Javon frowned, feeling how Samantha’s words planted doubts in his mind.

“Selfish?”

She nodded, leaning toward him as if she were about to reveal a big secret.

“Yes, he’s always been like that. Even before you, he never really cared much about anyone but himself. I’m telling you this because I care about you, Javon, and I don’t want you to keep believing he’s someone who will change. I’ve known him for years, and trust me, this is just how he handles things. He does whatever he wants, no matter who gets hurt.”

On Thursday, fate brought them together again. Javon had gone out with a group of friends to a bar to clear his head, but as soon as he settled at his table, he saw him. Walker was at the other end of the room, surrounded by his own friends, holding a drink and looking relaxed with a smile on his face. He seemed to be enjoying the night without a care in the world, least of all about Javon’s presence.

Mutual friends noticed the tension between them and insisted they sit together.

“Enough of this nonsense. Talk like adults,” one of them said, dragging Javon toward Walker’s table.

Javon, with several drinks in him, let them lead him, but when he sat across from Walker, it was as if he didn’t exist. Walker continued talking to those around him, completely ignoring Javon, who did the same. The tension was palpable, but neither gave in.

The night dragged on, and eventually, Walker stood up and left, leaving Javon with an even greater sense of emptiness.

A little later, Samantha showed up at the bar, her eyes sharp as if she had arrived just in time to rescue him. She sat across from Javon and watched him for a moment before speaking.

“How are you?” she asked in a concerned tone, though her expression showed more curiosity than genuine worry.

Javon sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Walker was here. He didn’t even look at me.”

Samantha clicked her tongue, pouring herself a drink.

“Well, I didn’t expect anything different from him. Actually, he told me something about his birthday party that I think you should know.”

Javon looked at her curiously, though part of him already knew he wouldn’t like what Samantha was about to say.

“What is it?”

She lowered her voice, leaning in as if revealing a big secret.

“He told me I could invite anyone I wanted. But… he made it very clear, in a not-so-direct way, that you weren’t included.” She paused dramatically, watching Javon’s reaction. “Basically, he made it clear he didn’t want you there.”

The pain was immediate on Javon’s face, though he tried to hide it.

“Did he really say that?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“Not in those exact words, but that’s what he meant. It’s Walker—you know how he is. Always so indirect, but in the end, it’s the same thing.” Samantha took a sip of her drink before adding, “Look, Javon, I think you need to accept that for him, this wasn’t as important as it was for you.”

Javon felt his chest tighten. Samantha’s words, as harsh as they were, seemed to confirm his worst fears.

“Do you think I never meant anything to him?” he asked finally, his voice filled with vulnerability.

Samantha pretended to hesitate, but her words were calculated.

“It’s not that you didn’t mean anything, but… I think Walker is the kind of person who moves on quickly. It’s not his fault; he just doesn’t know how to hold onto something real.”

Javon nodded slowly, his thoughts now in chaos. As Samantha spoke, the pain in his chest transformed into a mix of sadness and anger. That night, as he walked back to his apartment, one thought lingered in his mind: maybe he had never really mattered to Walker. And the worst part was, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep trying anymore.

Chapter Text

Walker’s birthday had been harder for Javon than he expected. Even though he knew he hadn’t been invited to the big party, something inside him couldn’t resist sending a brief message, almost like a reflex for everything he couldn’t let go of:

“Happy birthday, Walker.”

The response came shortly after, as curt and cold as Javon feared:

“Thanks.”

The exchange was quick, leaving no room for anything else. Javon set his phone aside, feeling that those few words were like a wall Walker had built between them—a wall Javon wasn’t sure he wanted to keep trying to break down.

The following Monday, the set was buzzing with conversations about the party. Javon tried to focus on his work, but it was impossible not to overhear the comments floating around.

“It was spectacular!” said a makeup artist. “Everything was perfect, from the decorations to the music.”

“And how was the food?” someone else asked.

“Delicious. But the best part was when Walker got on stage. Everyone was so excited.”

Javon tried to ignore them, but he couldn’t help tensing up when someone mentioned Walker’s companion.

“And what about the guy who was with him?” asked a production assistant.

“I don’t know… he doesn’t seem good enough for Walker,” replied one of Walker’s closest friends. “To be honest, I think Walker could do much better.”

“Someone like who?” another voice asked curiously.

“Well… someone like Javon, for instance.”

Javon’s heart skipped a beat upon hearing his name. He didn’t know whether to feel flattered or uncomfortable. However, the real blow came when a rumor started circulating among the crew.

“They say Walker was actually waiting for someone else at the party,” murmured one of the wardrobe assistants.

“Who?” someone else asked, intrigued.

“I’m not sure, but I heard that someone close to him told him he could invite whoever he wanted, and he spent the whole night looking at the door, as if waiting for that person to show up.”

The rumor left Javon completely confused. Although no names were mentioned, the “someone close” perfectly matched Samantha. The idea that she might have implied something to make Walker wait for him left Javon with mixed feelings. On one hand, he couldn’t help but think that maybe Walker still wanted him around. But on the other, the possibility that Samantha had toyed with their emotions made him feel betrayed.

Later that afternoon, as Javon packed up his things at the end of the day, one of Walker’s friends approached him.

“Do you have a minute?” she asked, with a somewhat serious expression.

“Sure, what’s up?” Javon replied, setting aside what he was doing.

“I want to tell you something, and I hope you don’t take it the wrong way.” She paused before continuing. “I think you’re the best thing that’s happened to Walker in a long time. And even though he’s with that guy now… I don’t think he’s what Walker needs. Many of us believe you two make a much better pair.”

Javon didn’t know what to say. Walker’s friend’s words caught him off guard, but they also left him with more doubts. If the people close to Walker saw their relationship as something special, why didn’t Walker?

“Thanks for telling me this,” he finally said, though his mind was still full of questions.

The friend nodded and left, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

That night, Javon couldn’t stop reflecting on everything he had heard. Had Walker really waited for him at his party? Had Samantha really implied something? And if so, why hadn’t Walker said anything directly? The doubts tormented him, mingling with the feeling that maybe there was still something between them that neither knew how to address.

But beyond the doubts, what weighed on him the most was the sense that, even though everyone seemed to see them as an ideal couple, Walker wasn’t willing to take the necessary step to show it.

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Days on set continued, and although Javon tried to keep a cool head, the tension with Walker remained a constant weight. However, something unexpected started to brighten his routine: Alyssa, a new addition to the production team, who had recently joined as the photographer. She was charismatic, with a smile that seemed to light up any room, and little by little, she had begun to catch Javon’s attention.

“Need help with that?” Javon asked one afternoon, noticing Alyssa struggling with some large camera equipment.

“This?” she replied, laughing as she handed him the camera. “I thought you were an actor, not a mover.”

Javon chuckled, feeling a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Well, I have some hidden talents. Where do you need it?”

As they walked together to the set, their conversation flowed effortlessly. Javon surprised himself by laughing genuinely, something he hadn’t done in a while. Alyssa had a light, magnetic energy that made him forget the tension with Walker, even if just for a little while.

That same night, while relaxing at home, Javon decided to scroll through Instagram to distract himself. However, the first thing he saw froze him in place. A new story from Walker appeared at the top of his screen. He hesitated for a moment before tapping on it, but curiosity got the better of him.

The image was simple yet devastating. Walker and Mason Thames were lying together in bed. Walker wore a tank top, while Mason was shirtless, comfortably resting against Walker’s chest. Both were smiling, and the caption read:

“Perfect moments ❤️”

Javon felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. He had seen Mason before, always close to Walker on set and at social events. But this… this made it official. It was confirmation that Walker had moved on—and not only that, but he was showing it to the world with a confidence Javon had never seen during their time together.

The next day, the set was livelier than usual. Everyone was talking about Walker and Mason’s post.

“Did you see last night’s photo?” one makeup assistant said. “They look adorable together.”

“Adorable?” someone else replied. “Mason’s handsome, but I don’t know… I feel like Walker had something more special with Javon.”

Javon overheard these comments while adjusting his wardrobe, pretending to focus on something else. But inside, his mind was a whirlwind. He didn’t know what hurt more: the officialization of Walker’s relationship or the fact that everyone around him was comparing what they had to what Walker now had with Mason.

Later, during a break in filming, Alyssa approached him with two coffees in hand.

“Looks like you could use one of these,” she said, handing him a cup.

Javon smiled, grateful.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say you have a ‘disaster face,’ but it’s definitely not your best day.” Alyssa sat beside him, looking up at the sky for a moment before speaking again. “Want to talk about it?”

Javon hesitated. Talking to Alyssa about Walker felt strange, as if it might invalidate what he had started to feel for her. But at the same time, he needed to vent.

“It’s complicated,” he finally said. “Someone who was important to me is with someone else now. And… I guess I haven’t fully moved on.”

Alyssa nodded, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Getting over something like that takes time. But if I can say something… don’t let that person define your worth. Sometimes, the best thing we can do is stop looking back and focus on what’s in front of us.”

Javon looked at her, surprised by the sincerity in her words. And for a moment, he allowed himself to think that maybe, just maybe, he could start over.

That night, as he checked his messages, he saw a new one from Samantha.

Sam: “Did you see Walker’s story? I guess you know what that means now…”

Javon didn’t reply right away. He didn’t want to talk to Samantha about this—not now. But as he stared at his phone screen, he remembered something Alyssa had said earlier.

“Stop looking back and focus on what’s in front of you.”

With that thought in mind, he set his phone aside and allowed himself to close his eyes, trying, for the first time in a long time, to imagine a future where Walker wasn’t at the center of everything.

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Javon’s lack of interest in Alyssa was becoming more evident. Despite his efforts to get involved and enjoy her company, something inside him just didn’t click. During a trip to the movies, while she spoke excitedly about the film, all he could think about was Walker and the uncomfortable distance between them.

Javon had adopted a more stoic philosophy, trying to accept what he couldn’t change and focus on his personal growth. However, this did not ease the pain of not having resolved things with Walker.

On set, the days passed with a mix of routine and tension. The only person Javon could be completely honest with was Samantha. However, their conversations usually centered on criticism of Walker.

“That guy never had feelings,” Samantha would say with disdain. “He’s conceited; he only cares about his image.”

Javon couldn’t help but feel a twinge of discomfort. Though he appreciated Samantha’s support, her words poisoned his perception of Walker.

“I don’t know, Sam,” he replied with a sigh. “I feel like there’s more that we’re not seeing.”

“You’re being too soft, Javon. He doesn’t deserve another second of your time.”

The shoot was about to end, and Javon felt a mix of urgency and resignation. He knew he had to talk to Walker, but pride and fear of rejection kept him paralyzed.

One afternoon, while preparing for the last scene of the day, a soft and friendly voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Hi, Javon, how are you?”

It was Isabella, one of Walker’s best friends. She had a calming presence and a sincere smile that made everyone feel at ease.

“Hi, Isabella. I’m good, thanks. And you?”

“Good, thanks. Hey, I know things haven’t been easy lately. I wanted to invite you to the wrap party. It would be great if you came.”

Javon was surprised by the invitation, especially coming from someone so close to Walker.

“I’m not sure, Isa. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“You won’t cause any trouble. We all want you there. And I think Walker does too, even if he doesn’t say it.”

That night, Javon reflected on Isabella’s invitation. Could this be the opportunity to fix things with Walker? He knew time was running out and that if he didn’t do something soon, he might lose that connection forever.

The next day, on set, Javon noticed everyone talking excitedly about the wrap party. The atmosphere was filled with anticipation and nostalgia. He approached Isabella during a break.

“I’ve been thinking about your invitation,” he said. “I think I’ll go to the party.”

Isabella smiled, clearly relieved.

“I’m glad to hear that, Javon. I’m sure it will be a good opportunity for everyone.”

The last day of filming came with a mix of excitement and melancholy. After shooting the final scenes, the cast and crew prepared for the big party. Javon felt nervous but determined to seize the opportunity.

That night, while getting dressed for the party, he couldn’t stop thinking about all the things that had been left unsaid. He knew he had to find the courage to talk to Walker, but the uncertainty of how he would be received filled him with anxiety.

The clock struck eight, and Javon looked at himself in the mirror one last time before leaving. Would this be the night they finally resolved their differences? Or would their pride keep them apart forever?

With a mix of hope and fear, he left his apartment, ready to face whatever the night had in store for him.