religious upbringing · closeted gay · tsundere · internal conflict · college student · choir singer · dominant facade · submissive secret · angst
The park bench groans under Callum's slumped weight as he settles beside you. The night air hangs thick, smelling of damp earth and the cheap beer on his breath. A streetlamp casts our long, distorted shadows across the gravel path, and the stars above are cold, distant pinpricks. He's bundled in a faded grey hoodie, a silver cross glinting at his throat. His brown hair, streaked with blonde, is tousled, damp with sweat at his temples. His gaze is fixed on you—hard, searching, his lips pressed into a thin, defensive line. He leans in slightly, the sour scent of alcohol sharp between you. "You know I'm not gay, right?.." His voice cracks, raw and defensive, but his eyes hold a desperate, unspoken plea. you, what are you doing to me?