The early morning sun assaulted Robin's senses as he stood before the imposing house, waiting for his mum to pick him up. His head throbbed mercilessly, and he found himself still clad in the remnants of his costume—minus the cloak and mask, which seemed to have mysteriously disappeared during the night. The events of the preceding evening blended into a hazy fog in Robin's mind.

     After his encounter with Yohan, he summoned the courage to return to the party, only to discover Jemma and Yohan nowhere to be found. Undeterred by the euphoria of the recent events, Robin celebrated alone. He managed to get whatever traces of alcohol lingered on the kitchen table, losing himself in a night of uninhibited dancing with strangers. Vague recollections surfaced of dancing, laughing, and drinking. One memory made him feel particularly nauseous—standing on a table, passionately belting out Lady Gaga lyrics to an appreciative crowd. Yet, beyond that point, his mind drew a blank.

     He had woken up on one of the living room sofas, neck stiff and body chilled, without the comfort of a blanket. The pressure in his temples was throbbing, a testimony to his night's excesses. As he gingerly sat up, blinking against the morning light, he discovered that a few other partygoers had also decided to make the couch their impromptu bed, most still lost in the depths of slumber.

     In the midst of the post-party wreckage, Robin's mind wandered back to the moment with Yohan—a surreal encounter that now felt like a distant dream.

     Uncertain of its reality, he grappled with the lingering effects of both the alcohol, which placed a firm pain on his temples, and the emotional whirlwind of the events from the night before.

     Balancing the desire not to disturb Amber, who he assumed was sleeping peacefully with Lucy, with the responsibility of not leaving her to tackle the clean-up alone, Robin took it upon himself to tidy up a little. Armed with black bin liners discovered under the kitchen sink, he navigated the quiet house, punctuated only by the occasional shift of a sleeper or a muted groan. Once satisfied with his covert cleaning efforts, careful not to rouse anyone, he texted his mum, asking to come pick him up.

     And that's where he was now, waiting patiently as he leaned slightly on the wall of the front garden.

     As he stared down at his duffle bag, dangling lazily from one hand, Robin realised he hadn't even opened it. All the clothes were still neatly folded inside, and standing there awkwardly in his now only half-Robin costume, he realised his tights had gained some rips from his night of partying.

    His mum's familiar car pulled up to the side of the road, and as Robin approached it, he winced at how every step he took seemed to send shooting pains through his brain stem.

     "Hey mum, thanks," he said, stepping into the car slowly, ensuring no sudden movements to cause the pain he felt in his mind to worsen.

     "No problem my love, my my, looks like you had a fun time." She glanced up and down at his dishevelled appearance. "Didn't even change out our costume then?"

     "No, but yes, I had a nice time; it was fun," he said in a hushed voice. His head drooped on the headrest, and he closed his eyes. They were heavy from lack of sleep, and his ears were buzzing, as if he could still feel the thumping bass of the music from the party radiating in his eardrums.

     "I'm glad to hear it, my sweet," she said, starting the car and pulling away from the curb. Robin opened one eye and turned his face slightly to watch the house disappear in the rear-view mirror. The house where he had had his first, proper, true kiss.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

     When he got home, he was grateful to find the bathroom currently unoccupied. He immediately stripped out of his bootleg costume– wrestling slightly with the tights– and jumped into the shower. The warmth of the water trickled down his body, providing a soothing sensation from the pain he was feeling in his muscles.

     He faced the mechanical rain to let it fall onto his face, leaning his head back as the water ran over his face. The reminiscence of Yohan's taste still lingered in his mouth, the beautiful concoction of cigarettes and alcohol.

     He stepped out of the shower and dried himself down. Although clean, the hangover that was still causing havoc on him made his insides feel dirty. He wrapped the towel around his waist and tried to cure the horrible sensation by gulping down mouthfuls of water directly from the tap.

     As he walked into his room, dropping the clothes that had been on the bathroom floor onto the ground, his first thought was to contact Ashley. Robin knew she would die if she knew what had happened, but he also knew how protective his friend was. As he mulled over it, the niggling feeling that perhaps Ashley would be mad settled into his stomach. He knew that the excited reaction he was hoping for would likely not surface, and she would more likely point out how messy the situation was with Jemma. Even worse, she might even suggest he tell Jemma.

     He flopped down onto his mattress, his still wet hair causing a few drips to darken the grey carpet as he leaned forward onto his knees.

     He'd be lying if the thought of telling Jemma hadn't already crossed his mind a few times in the past twelve or so hours.However, the thought dissipated when the butterflies rose in his stomach once more, as he was reminded of the wonderful feelings that had struck him when his and Yohan's lips met. Pushing the guilt further down.

     In a haze of hangovers and pleasant thoughts, Robin only just about registered the knocking on the door before a face popped around the corner, her eyes covered with one hand.

     "Are you decent?" Kate questioned, cautiously entering his bedroom.

     "Decent enough," Robin responded, ensuring the tuck on his towel was secure.

     "Good," Kate said, removing her hand from her eyes. She was adorned in her usual uniform—comfy fluffy loungewear. "How was the party?" She asked making her way over to his swivel chair by his desk and sitting opposite him.

     "Umm, it was good," Robin replied, his gaze directed at a piece of fluff on the floor, slightly nervous by Kate's question.

      "Good? Good how? I was stuck at home all night having to deal with mum's Halloween shenanigans, the least you can tell me is how good it was."

     Robin felt a flush prick at his cheeks as the events of the evening entered his mind.

     Should I tell Kate?

     "It... well..." He picked slightly at the corner of his thumb as he spoke, "I... may have kissed someone."

     Fuck, should I really be telling my little sister this?

     "Ooooeeeerrr," Kate teased, trying her best at a Bristolian accent. "I see Robin, was it the guy, by any chance?"

     "Maybe."

     "Robin! Didn't you say he was a total prick?"

     "Actually, I don't want to talk about it," he said, glaring at Kate and wincing as his raised voice seemed to intensify the stabbing sensation in his brain.

     "You brought it up! I want to know!" Kate pleaded.

     "Nope, that's all you're getting, now get out of here so I can get dressed!"

     "Fine..." She grumbled, rising from her seat and making her way back towards the door. She shot one final look at him before she left. "He better not hurt you," she said, before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

     The words 'hurt him' felt sour in Robin's mouth. He knew his sister meant well, but he also knew that Jemma was the one who would be hurt if she found out. Telling her would pile on an additional layer of complications on top of the factor of having to come out. Robin frowned, there was always the possibility that he didn't need to come out. Perhaps he could say that Yohan forced himself on him, but he quickly dismissed the thought. He knew that outing someone was wrong, and he didn't even know if Yohan was actually gay.

      "Fuck my liffffeeeee," he groaned, rubbing the sides of his cheek with both hands.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

     Nursing his hangover with plenty of water and enough paracetamol to kill a small dog, the weekend— as with every interaction he seemed to have with Yohan— dragged. The half-term break drawing to a close.

     The group chat had completely blown up with numerous pictures and videos from the Halloween party antics. Several images of Amber posed to perfection with strangers Robin didn't recognise, a few of her and Lucy in cute couple poses, the photos decreasing in quality as the night had gone on and the number of drinks consumed had risen.

     Yohan, slightly camera shy, appeared in mere blurs in most of them as he tried to walk out of frame before the camera could capture the moment. As he swiped through, Robin's stomach lurched as he discovered his horrendous sing along to Lady Gaga's 'The Edge of Glory' had been caught on video. He only managed three seconds before flinging his phone onto his bed, hoping that would cause it to be eradicated from existence.

     Ashley, as expected, had also been blowing up his phone with text messages. Numerous questions and queries about the night, what had happened, and what she had missed. To satisfy her curiosity, he sent her a few of the photos from the group chat and expressed his painful hangover from the night's events. Not uttering a word about Yohan.

     Then the day finally came. Monday morning. Walking towards the now-familiar form room, Robin tried his best to keep his cool. Weaving through the crowd of students. The thought of having to spend his first period sat next to Jemma in psychology. Well, he wasn't feeling particularly ecstatic about it.

     But before that, he had to sit next to Yohan. The fact that they still hadn't had a conversation about their kiss—he didn't even know where Yohan had gone after he left. What if Yohan went and told Jemma?

     Shit!

     He hadn't even thought of that! Yohan could have told Jemma straight away. Maybe that's why the two of them disappeared. Maybe he told her, and she got so upset she didn't even want to see Robin.

     Fuck.

     His hand hovered over the classroom door. The unnerving feeling of worry filled his body for the unexpected events that would no doubt unfold today. Taking in one final deep breath of air, he stepped into the room.

     Chatter filled his ears with the usual chaos of the room pre-teacher being present. Surveying the class, his eyes landed on Jemma, who sat in her usual seat, chatting away to a girl sitting next to her. As she noticed Robin entering the room, a warm smile crossed her lips to greet him; it didn't seem forced or sad. She was happy.

     Thank God, she must not know.

     He smiled back at her, trying his best to not give away the panic still bubbling in his stomach, as he turned his attention to the back corner of the room, stopping a tuft of curly black hair over the students crowded around one of the tables.

     Okay, you can do this.

     Making his way to the table, the student's shifting to let him past, Yohan was sitting in his usual nonchalant way. The light that cascaded through the window seemed to cast a spotlight on him, highlighting the curls on his head and his sharp features. Noticing Robin approaching, he glanced up as a slight rosy hue fell across his cheeks, a smile escaping his lips.

     I swear, he gets more beautiful by the day...

     Robin sheepishly removed his rucksack and sat down in the seat next to him.

     "Hi,"

     "Hi,"

     They both sat there in awkward silence for a moment. Just as Robin was building up the courage to say something, Mrs Wheatly sauntered into the room. Before she had a chance to say anything, Yohan quickly removed his boots from the table and sat up straight.

     As Mrs Wheatly rambled on, Robin noticed that the boy next to him kept glancing in his direction. He braved a glance back. Yohan's face was soft, a shift from the cold glances he had grown accustomed to over the past month, as he smiled at him.

     The bell rang, and Yohan got up from his seat. Before leaving, he looked down at Robin from his great height.

     "See you later, yeah?"