It was tucked beneath Benjamin's hoodie in the corner of his bedroom. A slim notebook with a painted cover - dandelions, wind, sky.
Benjamin hadn't meant for Donny to find it. But when Donny picked it up, he felt something stir.
He didn't read the whole thing. Just one page, halfway through:
Some days, I want to hold his hand so tightly the sadness leaks out of my knuckles. Other days, I want to kiss the bruise of his shyness and tell it I see him.
Donny paused, chest filled with something like sunlight and ache. Benjamin stood frozen at the doorway.
"I didn't mean to pry," Donny said, but he didn't put the journal down.
Benjamin crossed the room, eyes wide but not afraid. "You read the best part."
There was silence, but it wasn't empty. Donny stepped closer, the journal forgotten between them. His fingers grazed Benjamin's wrist - bare, delicate, pulsing.
"I want to be held like that," Donny whispered. "Even just for a minute."
Benjamin reached. No hesitation. His arms wrapped around Donny with a boldness he hadn't shown before. Tight, warm, truthful.
And Donny, trembling slightly, pressed his cheek to Benjamin's collarbone. The closeness sparked through him - desire, yes, but not wild. Just... holy.
"I think I like you," Donny whispered, voice as thin as silk.
Benjamin kissed the top of his head. "I think I already knew."
The journal lay open, but that page had already come true.