Lucas slipped his arms around Kyle's waist, resting his head against Kyle's broad shoulder. The warmth of Kyle's skin seeped through his shirt, calming Lucas's frayed nerves. Kyle smelled like fresh earth after a rainstorm, with a hint of something citrusy—invigorating but grounding. It was a scent Lucas had associated with safety, and the rest of the world fell away for a moment.

Kyle kissed the top of his head, offering a moment of peace. But doubts lingered. Had Kyle been planning all this since they met?

Lucas tried to push the thought away, but it crept back in, sharper each time. Was their relationship built on lies? He had been through such trauma before with Jacob, and he didn't want fear to dictate his decisions. But this—this was different. This wasn't just about survival. This was about trust.

He swallowed hard. "Kyle," he asked softly, breaking the quiet, "what were you doing at Puerta del Sol when we met?"

Kyle stiffened. His brow furrowed slightly as he processed the question. "Why are you asking me that now?"

Lucas hesitated, his pulse quickening. "Was that... planned?" His voice trembled, betraying his fear that Kyle's kindness, every tender moment they shared, might have been part of some more significant manipulation. The possibility gnawed at him. What if none of this had been real?

Kyle lowered his hands from the tender embrace as his chest tightened. He broke the embrace and lowered his head. How could he face that question when he had also questioned his father's intentions?

Kyle hadn't planned it, but what if his father had? Had fate played a hand without him realizing it? He hated the thought of being another puppet in the endless schemes of Heaven and Hell. And yet, Lucas's scent of fresh soap and manliness took him back. His gaze focused on Lucas's neck and the relic he had gifted him. He gave that gift to Lucas. Ultimately, what he did was what Kyle felt right at the moment. Regarding Lucas, it had always been like that.

But Lucas had the right to know. How could Kyle explain that their meeting wasn't a product of fate but of choice? How could he make Lucas understand he never tried to manipulate anything? He wasn't like Jacob, or was he? He didn't present his true self so quickly, just like that other idiot, for the same reason. He was afraid of what Lucas would think. Yet Kyle was concealing true darkness from the world around them. Jacob was concealing himself. Kyle had always been honestly showering Lucas with love. But that wasn't enough; he knew that now. He gulped and stilled his resolve, ready to face the consequences. The words felt heavy, stuck in his throat. His pulse quickened. He feared that any answer he gave would only push Lucas further away.

"I..." Kyle started, then stopped. His hesitation stretched the silence between them. He wanted to be honest, but he was terrified of Lucas seeing him as another manipulator. The thought of Lucas looking at him that way—like everyone else who'd ever hurt him—was unbearable.

Kyle finally turned to face him, his voice quiet but steady. "My brother called me. He asked me to meet in Puerta del Sol at sunset. I chose to go. He rarely calls..." He paused, weighing each word. "Talking to you—that was my decision, Lucas. I could have walked away, but I didn't. That was all me."

Lucas blinked, torn between relief and disbelief. His heart raced, still unsettled by the possibility that unseen forces had orchestrated everything. He wanted to believe Kyle, but doubt lingered like a shadow. "So... what? You just happened to be there, and my 'irresistible charm' pulled you in?" he teased lightly, masking the tension with humor.

Kyle gave a small, wry smile, though his eyes remained serious. "I wanted to help. You looked like you needed it, and—" he hesitated again, his hand brushing lightly over Lucas's. "I don't regret it. But no, it wasn't some grand scheme. It wasn't about fate. It was about doing what felt right in the moment."

Lucas felt the weight of Kyle's words sink in, but the knot in his chest remained tight. He wanted to believe him, but everything felt different now—fragile like the life they'd built together could shatter at any moment.

"I want to believe you, Kyle. I really do." Lucas's voice wavered. "But it feels like... like our life wasn't real. Like everything we've shared is suddenly under a microscope."

Kyle's face softened, his eyes filled with quiet intensity. "I know it's hard. But I made my own choices—being with you was my choice, not fate's. And that's what matters to me."

Lucas looked down, unsure of how to respond. "I'm not running from this," he said, a hint of defiance creeping into his voice. "I've run from enough already."

They moved to the kitchen in silence, the tension thick between them. The sound of clinking dishes filled the space as Lucas wiped down the counter absentmindedly. His thoughts raced. The fog that had obscured so much of his life with Kyle was lifting, and everything—every strange moment—finally made sense. But it was overwhelming. Knowing that supernatural forces had been involved in bringing them together, even indirectly, made him question everything.

He glanced at Kyle, who was lost in thought, and took a deep breath. Maybe they would figure this out together. Maybe not. But they were both still standing for now, and Lucas wasn't ready to give up.

Lucas felt a knot tighten in his stomach, the room growing heavier every moment. The comforting scent of spices and coffee from the kitchen now clung to the back of his throat, making it hard to breathe. His pulse echoed in his ears, drowning out the distant clink of broken dishes being cleared away.

Lucas thought of their early days together when Kyle had quietly accepted him, almost before Lucas had even come out. There had been such relief in that moment—finally being seen and known. But now... Now, the tables had turned. Had Kyle known something all this time? The idea sent a cold shiver down his spine.

"Did you... did you know about my magic from the beginning?" Lucas's voice came out quieter than he intended, the weight of the question filling the air between them.

Kyle paused, rinsing his hands under the faucet. Lucas watched the water swirl down the drain, waiting. His stomach twisted.

He had left before. When Jacob's lies surfaced, and the distance grew unbearable, he pulled away, unable to take the uncertainty. He had learned to shut down his heart to avoid the pain. But this time... This time, he wanted something different. Kyle loved him; was it different if he also knew he had magic and accepted it as just another aspect of him? Lucas didn't want to run away from the difficult questions, which hurt even more. He wanted to be stronger.

Finally, Kyle turned, his face full of regret. "I didn't know at first," he said, his voice low. "But Lilian noticed something the first time we went for pastries."

The words hung in the air like a heavy cloud, pressing down on Lucas. Lilian had known? His mind raced back to those seemingly simple and innocent early mornings. But now, knowing that something had been noticed—something that Kyle had kept quiet about—it felt like the ground was shifting beneath his feet.

A realization came slowly; Kyle had implied he was holding on to something, pausing suddenly when Lucas thought he caught hints of desire in his eyes. It wasn't only because he was being respectful.

"You were going to tell me," Lucas whispered, more to himself than Kyle. He wanted to believe that. He needed to believe that.

Kyle nodded, stepping closer. "I was waiting after the store opened. After..." His voice trailed off, and the unspoken words were painfully clear—after you were done with Jacob.

Lucas's heart clenched. He understood now. Kyle had been waiting, trying to protect him, not to overwhelm him while he was still dealing with the divorce. And yet, knowing that didn't stop the ache in his chest. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" His voice cracked, carrying the same mixture of hurt and confusion he'd once felt when hiding his truth.

Kyle's shoulders slumped. "I didn't want to add more to your plate, Lucas. You were already dealing with so much." He took a deep breath. "I thought... I thought I was helping. Giving you time."

Lucas stared at him, the weight of the irony sinking in. Kyle had told Lucas it was okay to be gay; he could be honest and stop hiding. And now, Kyle had done precisely what Lucas had once done—kept something hidden, thinking it was for the best.

The air between them felt thick with unspoken words. Part of Lucas understood, empathized even, but another part of him hurt in ways he hadn't expected. "You kept this from me," he said softly. "Even after you told me I didn't need to hide anymore. You!"

Kyle flinched, the truth of the words striking him hard. "I know," he whispered. "I should've told you sooner. I didn't want to overwhelm you. But now... I see that maybe I did the wrong thing by waiting."

"Maybe?" Lucas growled and grabbed Kyle's hands, holding him in his grip. Their eyes looked, but Kyle didn't resist. Why?  Lucas immediately backpedaled, loosening his grip on Kyle. Was he really that mad? No, it was just the pain of the betrayal. In his rage, he could recognize the flickers of an all-consuming passion. 

Lucas locked eyes with Kyle; he was mournful and put to resistance to Lucas. It wasn't the first time; when Lucas discovered the truth, Kyle let him rage and vent as he pleased; why? Was it because of guilt? Or because of love? A red dot on Kyle's t-shirt was formed. Kyle was injured trying to protect him from that monster, proving that the Underworld was dangerous. He had put his life at risk to save Lucas. Lucas gulped with the realization he would do the same for Kyle.

"This love is going to be the death of me." Lucas thought.

Lucas's chest tightened. It was the paradox of trust, the way secrets could pull people apart even when they were meant to protect. He felt the pull of empathy—he understood why Kyle had waited—but the hurt remained. Secrets, he had learned, only delayed the inevitable. And now, here they were.

"Why let me live with you?" Lucas asked.

Kyle came closer. "I saw a good man in a tough spot. Plus, Professor Ortiz asked me to help."

"How can you tell if I'm good or bad?" Lucas asked.

Kyle shrugged, his expression softening. "I am good at recognizing people's character. It is my superpower."

Lucas frowned. "But I'm gay. Your dad doesn't like us," he said, old fears surfacing.

Kyle's smile was gentle. "He doesn't care about sexual orientation. I don't care about any of that, either. You're important to me."

Lucas felt a tightness in his chest loosen. Kyle's acceptance made that fear fade, if only for a moment.

"That's kind of a relief," Lucas said with a smile. "So, he won't oppose if I turn you gay."

"I'm sure he'll be pleased," Kyle chuckled, kissing Lucas's cheek.

Lucas wavered but quickly realized that Kyle's secrecy, though hurtful, was meant to protect him. Mirroring Lucas's tendency to store away brutal truths (like his grandma's magic) as a coping mechanism. Lucas turned, brushing his hand over Kyle's cheek—a brief, reassuring touch amidst the storm. Navigating this new reality felt exhausting, but Kyle's presence was comforting.

Lucas gazed at Kyle, "I wish you had told me sooner, Kyle. But... I get it. You were trying to protect me, right?"

Kyle wavered, "I never wanted you to live in fear."

Was it really fear that held him back? Or was it something more profound—something scarier, like the realization that he'd already fallen too far for Kyle to walk away? Even knowing that magic, Hell, and danger were part of the deal, his heart ached at the thought of leaving him. 'Maybe love isn't safe,' he thought. 'Maybe it never was.' But he was willing to take that leap again.

Lucas decisively answered, "Well, I've been scared before. I'm not going to let fear control me. If magic's a part of my life now, I'll face it with you."

They were done with the kitchen and dishes, and Lucas grimaced when he realized that most of the food stored had gone wrong due to the monster's attack. He sighed. They should head out for food, but they weren't ready yet. The apartment was still a mess. They split tasks; Kyle picked up scattered papers, and Lucas folded clothes. Lucas's gaze landed on Kyle repeatedly as he saw his companion earnestly try to dust and pile the books that Lucas used for his classes. 

Little by little, Lucas's muscles relaxed, and he felt warmth again. He continued folding abandoned clothes in very small and tightened squares. When he was about to finish, Lucas couldn't help but whisper, "What do you want, Kyle?"

Kyle straightened up, locking eyes with Lucas. "To be with you. I want a normal life with you—no Hell, no duties down there."

A normal life. The words felt hollow the moment he said them. Could they ever really have that? He wasn't sure anymore, but the thought of losing Lucas—of dragging him into a world of danger and darkness—was more unbearable than anything Hell could throw at him.

Lucas stilled as he folded the last shirt, the soft cotton cool against his hands. A normal life—how could anything feel normal again? The sound of Kyle moving in the kitchen, the clatter of dishes, and the faint scent of lemon-scented soap were ordinary, but they now felt like a fragile illusion. He longed for its simplicity, yet everything felt layered with hidden magic. His mind warred with his heart, but hope pushed aside the chaos.

"And Heaven?" Lucas raised an eyebrow.

"They have enough personnel," Kyle shrugged.

Kyle's heart pounded as Lucas pulled back. Was this it? The moment Lucas realized how much of a mistake being with him was? The fear of rejection gnawed at him, a fear he hadn't felt in centuries. He couldn't bear the thought of losing him—not now, not after everything.

Kyle's decisive words filled Lucas's heart with happiness. He left the shirts folded, and Lucas closed the distance between them, slipping his arms around Kyle's waist, his head resting against the curve of Kyle's shoulder. Kyle smelled like earth and invigorating fruits—a scent Lucas had come to associate with comfort. Lucas's hand brushed against Kyle's arm. It was a slight touch but carried everything Lucas couldn't say aloud—his fears, doubts, and decisions. 'I'm here,' his touch seemed to say. 'I'm not running.' All the supernatural chaos faded momentarily, leaving only the warmth of their shared connection.

Lucas exhaled, the weight of the day's revelations pressing down on him. "A normal life," he whispered, more to himself than Kyle. Could they ever indeed have that? He wasn't sure, but the thought of a quiet, everyday life with Kyle kept him grounded.

The Underworld was terrifying. Teufel had shown him just how real the dangers were. But he had survived—just like he had survived the years of bullying. And now, with Kyle by his side, he'd survive whatever came next. He wasn't going to run.

"I'm staying, Kyle. I don't care how dangerous it gets—I'm not running away." Lucas smiled, and his mouth met Kyle's in a tender kiss. Kyle's presence felt stabilizing despite everything that had happened. He nuzzled closer, feeling Kyle's steady heartbeat beneath his cheek.

"I feel a bit tired," Lucas said softly, his voice carrying the weight of the day's revelations. "It's been a lot to take in."

Kyle's hand brushed against his, a gentle reassurance in the touch. Despite the comfort, Lucas couldn't shake the lingering thoughts about their complicated world.

"You should rest," Kyle said thoughtfully. "I'll finish cleaning the kitchen and take out the trash."

Lucas shook his head, his concern for Kyle evident. "Maybe you should also rest with me; you've been injured too. We can clean later. Come with me; my bed is soft and cozy."

Kyle's eyes sparkled with a playful glint. "Alright, but we'll need to get groceries later. For now, let's get some rest."

Lucas grinned, feeling a mixture of relief and residual doubt. "Let's see what I can do when I'm well-rested."

Hand in hand, they moved toward Lucas's quiet and serene bedroom. Settling onto the bed, Kyle's presence was a comforting weight beside him. Being in this private space felt like a small island of normalcy amidst the chaos.

As they lay together, Lucas turned to Kyle. Lucas smirked and took out the tickets between his fingers like a lifeline. "So, you're saying Madrid's full of magical weirdos? And here I thought the craziest thing was the tapas," he teased, the playfulness a shield against the deeper emotions swirling inside him. But even as he joked, the warmth of Kyle's presence anchored him, reminding him why he wasn't running away.

Lucas smiled, his gaze softening. "I'm really trying to make sense of all this," he whispered. "It's just... so much. But I want to be here with you. I want us to find a way through this together."

Kyle's fingers gently brushed Lucas's cheek. "We will," he said, his voice steady and reassuring. "It's a lot to take in, but we'll find our way. We have each other, and that's a start."

Kyle held Lucas close. The world outside was always lurking, and he didn't know if he could shield Lucas forever. He could only do one thing for Lucas: he had to become stronger. Kyle smiled; he knew precisely how to do it.

As the silence settled between them, filled with quiet understanding, Lucas felt the world's weight lighten. The dream of everyday life felt fragile but possible, a glimmer of hope they could hold onto despite the uncertainties.

With Kyle beside him, Lucas closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift into a restful state. The world seemed a little lighter now, and that was enough.