Chapter Text
"People only yearn for the future because they haven’t encountered someone they truly cherish. I consider myself lucky. I already have someone who’s very important to me, someone I can't live without. I wish everyone could have this luck. Thank you, and happy graduation."
The plaza echoed with thunderous applause. As the final words of his best friend’s speech hung warmly in the air, Gideon joined in the cheers, clapping along with the others seated around him. He leaned toward his fellow cadets, offering congratulations, and received them in return.
His ears burned with pride when he caught sight of his family beaming behind him in the crowd, their faces flushed with joy.
Celebrating with his family, alongside his colleagues, was what made today all the more special to Gideon.
The ceremony was modest, more intimate than grand. Very few cadets made it through the Aerospace Academy's brutal gauntlet of a final exam. After all, the assessment was a surefire way to make or break a cadet’s career as a fighter pilot. Hell, when Gideon saw his and Patrick's names on the selection list, he couldn't have felt more grateful. He did it, he made it.
Still, as the cheers quieted and the ceremony faded into laughter and conversation, a twinge of guilt crept in. The weeks leading up to the final selection had been brutal, more so for Caleb than anyone else. Even though Caleb had walked away from his devastating flight accident physically unscathed, Gideon knew the damage ran deeper. What happened wasn’t just a setback. It was something that could rattle even the most composed aviator.
Seeing Caleb's name listed as an alternate candidate had driven that truth home. A harsh reminder that even the best can falter.
That no one stays at the top forever.
And yet, Gideon wasn’t worried. Not really. As long as Caleb passed the secondary flight assessment, he’d still earn his wings. He’d still fly. And Gideon had no doubt he’d pass. After all… it was Caleb.
No one flew like him. No one ever had.
Caleb held a bouquet of pale blue flowers, smiling widely for the cameras, standing tall and proud. His voice was steady and warm, his laughter full of life. And, as always, his presence was magnetic. People’s eyes were drawn to his radiant spirit, some admiringly, others with envy. After everything his best friend had endured in the past few weeks, Gideon felt a quiet wave of relief seeing him like this.
This was the Caleb he remembered. This was the Caleb before the spiral. Seeing that version of his friend again made the world feel a little more in balance.
Gideon rolled his shoulders, letting the tension melt away. For the first time in months, he felt lighter than air, as though the gravity tethering him to the academy grounds had quietly let go.
From across the room, he watched as Caleb reached out to gently pull a younger girl close, his hand resting on the small of her back as she folded into the hug. He squinted. Caleb had mentioned his family might not be able to make it today, so it caught Gideon off guard to see someone show up for him.
This had to be his sister, right?
She had his eyes: bright and full of life. And the way she carried herself was just as magnetic as Caleb, if not more. The way she poked at his side and grabbed at his cheeks sealed it for Gideon. This had to be his sister.
Yet something about the softness in Caleb’s expression as he held her made Gideon pause. That wasn’t the kind of hug you gave just anyone.
But it couldn't be his girlfriend… right?
Gideon watched a moment longer as Caleb leaned in close, murmuring something against the girl’s ear. His lips barely moved, his voice low enough that no one else could hear. Whatever he said made her emit a soft and breathy giggle, the sound barely audible over the fading celebrations and cheers. She swatted at his chest, her fingers lingering there a little too long. It should have been interpreted as a playful smack. Yet it didn’t feel that way to him.
Maybe it was just the post-ceremony haze. Or the heat from the blazing sunlight. Perhaps it was the adrenaline. The noise. Or something else entirely. But something about it didn’t sit right with Gideon, leaving him perplexed. It made him hungry for answers to all the unanswered questions he had. And worst of all, those unanswered only festered as an unfriendly reminder that Caleb was still keeping something from him.
His eyes widened when the girl turned his way. Her eyes found his across the plaza. She smiled, her eyes locking with Gideon's. It was warm and open, the kind of smile that made you forget who you were, what you were doing, and where you were for a moment.
She lifted her hand in a small wave, and Gideon instinctively returned it, his face suddenly hot as he straightened himself up. If it weren't for her averting her gaze back up to Caleb, Gideon could have sworn he could hear the blood rushing through his veins in his eardrums. He peeled his gaze away after a few seconds, catching the way she hid her smile behind her delicate fingers.
She seemed so friendly. So completely innocent.
But just as Gideon lowered his hand, she leaned in toward Caleb, saying something to him, her eyes wandering back in Gideon's direction. He couldn’t make out the words, but he didn’t need to. Caleb’s smile shifted. Not wider, but instead sharper. It tightened at the corners. His gaze hardened as he looked at the girl on his arm from the corner of his eye.
For a moment, it didn’t feel like a smile at all. It almost felt like a warning.
Then, just like that, Caleb's hold on her grew tighter as he ushered her off with him. He kept his hand on the small of her back, guiding her as they walked- steady, and a touch more possessive, as if he had the right to touch her that way. It stayed there as they crossed the plaza and disappeared through the glass doors of the Aerospace Aviation building.
Gideon frowned. He blinked and shook his head, trying to dispel the unease coiling beneath his skin.
Maybe I'm reading too much into things...
Still, even as the crowd around him shifted and the voices of his parents called out to him, Gideon’s eyes remained fixed on the doors where Caleb and the girl had vanished. Eventually, however, he forced himself to turn the other cheek, pasting on a smile as he walked toward his family. But the warmth couldn't quite reach his eyes.
Because even surrounded by celebration, with the people who loved him most, a part of Gideon’s mind refused to let go of the intimate display he had just witnessed.
Gideon lingered with his family for as long as he could, letting their laughter and embraces carry him through the last of the ceremony. Eventually, Gideon found himself wanting an excuse to slip away, partially because he wanted to see where Caleb and that girl had rushed off to, but also because he wanted one final pass through the Academy's grounds before they were cleared out for good.
The hallways were quieter than the plaza, allowing Gideon to have a moment to himself and his thoughts. The heat still clung to the air, and the sun had begun to sag lower, burning the plaza in shades of gold outside, and Gideon himself as he walked through the empty halls.
He crossed the familiar walkway that connected the main building to the dormitories. His jacket was slung over his shoulder, whilst the echo of his boots on the concrete was the only noise carrying him forward. Admittedly, he was going to miss his days here...
He pushed the doors open, entering the hangar where he spent more hours than he'd like to admit. The dormitory smelled faintly of polish and dust, too clean for what had once been a mess of cadets rushing in and out at all hours. Already, most of the doors were propped open, rooms stripped bare, only a few stray boxes left behind in some of the rooms Gideon passed.
I wonder if Timothy made time to pick up his stuff from their old dorm yet. But he was about to find out soon, wasn't he?
When he reached his door, he slowed his pace. For a moment, he just stood there, hand hovering over the knob, staring at the brass numberplate. This had been home for years. Four cadets, crammed together in a space too small for the size of their egos. Timothy’s cluttered desk was always stacked high with manuals he swore he’d read. Patrick’s collection of small-scale model planes was always lined neatly on his shelf. Caleb, feet kicked up on someone else’s bed, toying with his necklace and grinning like he owned the place. And then there was him, Gideon... trying to keep the peace. Though, admittedly, he'd find himself failing half the time.
He’d miss waking up to the sound of Patrick’s voice needling Caleb through a mouthful of toothpaste, the groggy arguments echoing down the hall before dawn. He’d miss the rush of getting up bright and early to run drills with the team, sweat stinging his eyes while their laughter carried through the chill of morning air. And, of course, he’d miss the chaos of their nights together, and the endless card games played under dim lamps, the bickering over who hogged the shower, and the half-serious debates that always spiraled into laughter loud enough to draw complaints from the other dorms.
The dorms were always chaotic, maddening, even. And yet, Gideon was already missing it.
He reached for the door- then froze. There were voices on the other side, muffled, but clear enough in the silence of the hall. Then, a girl’s voice cut through not only the silence but Gideon's silent reminiscence.
“If all fighter pilots get a call sign, what would mine be?” Caleb’s low, amused laugh followed her innocent question.
“Why would you even want one? Are you planning on skipping school to become a pilot instead of a hunter?”
There was a pause, then the girl spoke again, sharper now.
“That’s not funny. I’m serious, Caleb!”
Caleb hummed. “You don’t need a call sign. And even if you did have one, you’ll always be my Pipsqueak.”
Gideon’s breath caught in the back of his throat.
The nickname rolled off Caleb’s tongue too easily, too comfortably. It wasn’t the Caleb Gideon was used to.
Sure, he usually was the one who laughed the loudest, always ready with a sharp comeback, and carried himself as if nothing in the world could touch him. Cocky, yes, and a little careless. Caleb was naturally capable of commanding a room with the cold authority of a leader.
But the Caleb on the other side of the door was different. His voice was softer, threaded with a kind of care Gideon had rarely, if ever, heard from him.
Gideon’s hand slipped from the knob, his chest tight. He stood still in the hallway, unable to move, listening, even though he knew he shouldn’t.
The pit in his stomach was back, heavier than before.
Gideon heard the faint sound of fabrics rustling, followed by the abrupt shuffle of movement and the nostalgic squeaking of the dormitory bed's old springs. The girl's laughter was cut short, swallowed into something else Gideon couldn’t mistake. It was the sound pressed out of someone when their mouths were too close together. Another muffled whimper followed, blending with a heavy sigh.
Caleb's voice cut the abrupt silence. And it sounded nothing like the confident cadet who commanded every room.
“Pipsqueak…” The word broke in half, dissolving into a silence thick enough for Gideon to fill in the rest himself.
His pulse hammered in his ears, every part of him screaming to leave... yet, he was rooted in place.
The pit in his stomach twisted into something sharper: arousal.
Gideon’s knuckles hovered over the door, ready to knock and put an end to the sounds clawing at his nerves. Instead, almost against his will, his hand drifted lower. The knob turned easily under his fingers until the door cracked open, allowing Gideon the opportunity to see the settling shadows fumbling their clothes off on the walls of the interior.
I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t be doing this.
Through the sliver, Gideon caught a glimpse of them in the sunset-shaded room.
Caleb sat at the edge of the bed, his jacket and button-down tossed carelessly across the floor. The girl tugged her top off and leaned into Caleb's touch. From the angle Gideon was watching them from, her shadow was nestled comfortably atop his lap. He watched as Caleb's hand snaked around the small of her back, providing support before she could fall backward. He gripped her hip tightly, whilst his other hand massaged one of her breasts, worming his way underneath the cup of her bra. His thumb worked effortlessly at her nipple, caressing the sensitive skin with natural, thoughtful circles.
Her head leaned to one side, followed by a breathy hum. She reciprocated his affection by trailing her fingers tenderly across the base of his chest, down to the ridged structure of his pronounced abdominal muscles. Gideon could only begin to imagine what her hands felt like... Would they be cold to the touch, or burn against his skin? His curiosity alone was enough to make his thoughts race.
And seeing Caleb's eyes rolled up in ecstasy at the tender graze of her skin against his, his breath shuddering in pure bliss, sent Gideon's mind into overdrive.
There was no mistaking what Gideon had heard. Their faces were close, irresistibly locked onto one another. Her lips brushed against Caleb's, murmuring something Gideon couldn’t catch, until she swallowed the rest in another passionate kiss.
Caleb’s free hand slid from her chest, his fingers resting on her hips with an ease that spoke of habit, not hesitation. He tilted his head, deepening their kiss, until his tongue slid against hers, laughing against her mouth in that soft, almost disbelieving way Gideon had never once heard from him.
I should leave. Shut the door. Pretend you didn't see anything, Gideon.
But his eyes refused to move. They were fixed on Caleb as he flipped positions, lifting her and pressing her down into the bed. His form towered over her with clean precision and intent in his every move. He had her right where he wanted her.
“Caleb…” she whispered, her fingers trembling as they brushed over his face with aching tenderness. Her thumb traced the line of his cheekbone, carefully. Every stroke lingered, as if she were memorizing him through touch alone. Caleb’s breath hitched. He caught her wrist, enveloping it entirely in his much larger hand.
The contrast between them was almost startling. Her fragility, in comparison to his strength, was glaring. Yet, Caleb held her tenderly, as if even tightening his grip would break the spell he had on her. His voice came out low in a tangled promise.
“It’s okay, Meimei,” he breathed. “Let Gege take care of you now…”
From the crack in the door, Gideon stiffened, all feelings of arousal melting at the simplicity of what Caleb just murmured. His pulse hammered against his skin. Cold sweat traced down his back. Gideon swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. Did he hear that right? Did Caleb call himself what he thought he did?
Gege?
The word was burned in his ears, repeating itself until he could no longer ignore it. His eyes widened, the realization striking him like lightning:
Did he just call himself Gege…?
Caleb closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the delicate warmth of her touch. He leaned into her palm, letting it anchor him, even daring to nuzzle his head against hers until their foreheads were pressed together. Gideon didn't know if this was Caleb or if this was an entirely different person. His usually steady composure began to crack, revealing something raw, almost boyish. And that threw Gideon off entirely.
Caleb's Meimei thrust her body up against his, as though she couldn’t stand the distance anymore. And she couldn't.
"Hurry up, what if we get caught?" She whined against his lips.
"We're not going to get caught."
"How do you know?"
"Because one way or another, I'm going to have my way with you."
Afraid the moment might dissolve if he hesitated, Caleb shifted his weight into her, his body pressing her deeper into the mattress before he finally claimed her lips in a fiercely passionate kiss. The impact was heady, his mouth rough with urgency. His breath trembled each time he pulled away, and she gasped into him, the sound catching between them, then melted into a moan that sent a shiver racing down his spine.
The frame beneath them protested against Caleb's movements, the bed beginning to squeak in rhythm with every thrust of his hips as he ground against her core. The heat of her body bled through the thin barrier of fabric, each thrust stoking a fire that left Caleb's control slipping. His left forearm braced against the mattress, muscles taut as it held his weight above her, while his right hand shot upward, fingers curling tightly around the cold metal bar of the headboard. His grip was desperate, anchoring him to a moment he wasn't about to let go of.
Her cries of pleasure vibrated against his mouth, swallowed by the relentless push of his body. Every shift of his weight drove her further into the weak mattress, the bedsprings squealing in protest, the headboard clanging under the strain of his grip. The heat between them was suffocating—sweat slicked down his temple, dripping where their skin pressed together, making every movement feel hotter, sharper, and more desperate. Her fingers clawed at his back. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. Each ragged breath she drew only tangled with his own, their gasps and moans mixing into a fevered rhythm that matched the pounding of the bed against the wall. Caleb’s frantic kisses never relented. He needed her lungs to breathe, her body to keep himself from unraveling.
The metal bar of the headboard groaned beneath his grip, his knuckles whitening as he tightened his hold. He couldn’t let go, couldn’t afford to lose the anchor, not when every thrust sent him closer to the edge of something uncontrollable. He pressed harder, faster, his entire frame trembling with the need to take her further and deeper, until there was nothing in the world but her voice breaking against his lips and the burning fire of her body beneath his.
What are you doing, Gideon?
His chest ached with the force of his heartbeat, each thud louder than the bed’s squeals against the wall. He should have turned away. He should have shut his eyes, better yet, the door, and turned to leave. But his gaze clung to the scene, helpless, devouring. Every sound twisted inside him: her cries muffled against Caleb’s mouth, the ragged gasps between their frantic kisses, the guttural strain in Caleb’s throat. It all tangled together until Gideon couldn’t tell where their voices ended and the pounding of his pulse began.
Heat coiled low in his stomach, spreading like poison, shame burning in his veins. His fists clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms, but it did nothing to ground him. His body betrayed him—breath hitching, skin fevered, his arousal pressing insistently as though mocking the horror in his chest.
"I want you to fuck me, Gege..." His little sister whimpered, holding his hips in place as she began to paw at the edge of his pants. Caleb huffed, lifting his hips enough to grant her the opportunity of freeing his hardened cock from the confines of his dress pants. She wasted no time in loosening his belt, tugging the fabric just enough, along with her skirt and panties. Caleb lined himself up with his sweet Meimei's throbbing entrance.
"I don't have any protection, Meimei. Don't tell me you want to carry Gege's baby, now..." He's joking around.
"I don't care." She quietly responded.
Stop watching. Stop.
But Gideon's eyes stayed fixed, dragged over the trembling of Caleb’s shoulders, paired with the rise and fall of his Meimei's chest. The violent press of his body pinning her down. Each thrust, each broken moan carved deeper, until Gideon’s throat tightened with something perilously close to want. He swallowed hard, bile and desire mixing bitterly on his tongue. The shame was unbearable, and still... he couldn't look away.
"A-Agh~!! Gege! ♡"
Caleb pressed the tip of his cock into her, turning his head away. He knew if he kept his eyes on her, he was almost certain he wouldn't be able to stop himself from cumming early. However, what Caleb didn't expect to see when he turned his head was the faint, but apparent outline of his best friend from the crack of the doorway. Gideon’s blood turned to ice the moment Caleb’s head shifted, his hair clinging to his temple as his gaze cut toward the door. And for a moment, Gideon thought- no- hoped Caleb didn't see him.
But Caleb’s eyes locked with his through the narrow crack, pinning him in place. Gideon’s breath stalled in his chest, shame crashing over him so violently his knees nearly buckled. He felt caught. He felt exposed, as though the entire weight of the moment had turned its spotlight on him alone.
Caleb's lips curved into a slow, cruel smirk. The expression was not for her. It was for him. Gideon’s stomach dropped. Heat and nausea trapped him as the realization hit. Caleb wanted him to watch.
He thrusted into his Meimei harder; the brutal snap of his hips shook the bedframe and ripped a louder cry from the back of her throat.
"T-Too... Too much, Gege...~! ♡♡ It's too big~!" She sobbed against the crevice of his bare neck, as he comforted her with soothing shushes and whispers of praise.
"That's it... Be a good girl. You're doing so good...~ ♡"
His voice carved itself into Gideon's skin, the humiliation so sharp he nearly doubled over.
But Caleb didn’t tear his gaze away from his observer. He kept his eyes on him, that merciless smirk widening as if he was savoring Gideon’s paralysis. Each ragged thrust and smacking of his hips against his little sister's became deliberate: a performance. Every cry from her lips was wielded like a weapon meant to strike Gideon down. His chest tightened, lungs aching as though the air had turned too heavy to draw in. His mind screamed at him to turn away, to move.
But Gideon was trapped, ensnared in Caleb’s gaze. If he turned away now, it would only make Gideon feel like more of a coward, if anything.
The bed jolted harder against the wall, each slam punctuating the silent taunt glittering in Caleb’s eyes:
Look at what’s mine. Look at what you’ll never have.
Gideon’s skin burned with shame, ripping through him like fire under his skin. Still, he couldn't fight his growing arousal at Caleb's sister's loud shrieks of pleasure. The tenderness of her cries and whines. Her quiet grunts as a loving response to her big brother's affection.
Caleb gave a final, rough thrust, pulling out of her immediately after. His cock was soaked with his Meimei's juices, lines of his cum seeping out and landing on the delicate cupcake beneath him.
And the most Gideon could do was watch, his hand trembling as he finally, carefully drew the door shut. His back pressed against the wall behind him. His chest felt hollow, his stomach twisted, heat still burning low and vile in his gut. He forced his eyes shut, but the images only burned sharper into his vision, replaying on the inside of his skull along with every sound he had just heard and etched to his memory.
How the hell…
The thought trailed off, raw and jagged, swallowed by the sick churn of shame and arousal that refused to let him go.