~☆ It took so long for him to see it for what it was, to acknowledge love as love. To look up at the one holding him, gently putting their foreheads together, and see it as a show of affection rather than an odd quirk of his friend's. Lukey stands in the cathedral, bathing in moonlight shining through a stained glass window, washing away the sickness and the sin from his soul with the holy water from a basin. Pangi sits in the cathedral, looking up at the silhouette of the man he adores. He squints and still can't see the shadow's face, but the way he moves is alluring enough. He won't confess it aloud. Can he even call Lukey a friend anymore? How many dates, kisses, can two have before it becomes more? How many nights blindly following him to the end of the world does it take before it becomes love? How long can Pangi watch him with admiration and affection before he has to admit to himself... ...Maybe "straight" isn't the right word. And everyone knew but him? He shoves his face into his hands. Lukey laughs in that way Pangi hates; it's soft and low and... he flushes pink. "What?" He asks, crossing his arms, feigning nonchalance. "You were staring." Lukey says, wiping at his arm with a rag. He steps out of the blinding light and sits himself across from Pangi. His shirt is tied around his waist. "I wasn't, I was just-" He struggles for a word. "I couldn't see you." He points at the window like it'll explain anything. Lukey nods. Of course he gets it, he's Lukey. "You sure were trying, though." He jokes, and Pangi kicks him softly against the shin. "Shut up, Lukey."
