Michaels in Love (BoyXBoy) English

Chapter 20 - Season 1: Acceptance, Warmer than Love

As I lowered my phone, I caught Emil staring at me, his eyes brimming with mischief and curiosity. It was as if he'd seen right through me, and his teasing expression made me brace for the inevitable question.

"Was that your girlfriend on the phone?" he asked, his voice laced with playfulness, a sly grin tugging at his lips.

"Girlfriend?" I repeated, coughing as though the word itself had gotten stuck in my throat. Why did it always feel like this word had a secret power over me, making my body betray me every time it came up? "Let's just head to the ICU," I said quickly, dodging his question.

"You're avoiding my question, Michael," Emil said, shaking his head with mock disapproval.

I simply smiled, refusing to offer him anything more.

When we reached the ICU, Emil stopped and turned to me. "I'll go check on my grandmother," he said. "Call me when you're done with Gino, and we'll leave together."

"Thanks, Emil," I said, watching him walk away before I turned to face the nurse at the entrance.

She handed me a gown, gloves, and a mask. As I suited up, the reality of where I was began to sink in. The sterile smell, the fluorescent lights, the subdued whispers—it all pressed down on me, heavy and inescapable.

Inside the isolation ward, the sound of machines filled the air, their rhythmic beeps like a metronome counting down moments of silence. My gaze landed on Gino, awake but frail, his eyes tired yet alive with recognition. When he saw me, a faint smile curved his lips.

"Bro, how are you?" I said, rushing to his bedside, the worry in my chest intensifying as I got closer.

"I'm okay... Thank you... Michael... for visiting..." he said, his words slow and deliberate, each syllable a struggle.

My chest tightened as I looked at him. The vibrant, athletic Gino I once knew had been reduced to this fragile version of himself. It was almost too much to bear.

"Don't worry, you're still as handsome as ever, Bro," I said, forcing a smile as tears burned at the edges of my eyes.

He chuckled softly, the sound faint but warm. "Do I still... look like... Matt Evans?" he asked, his humor shining through even in his weakened state.

That was it. The tears I'd been holding back spilled over. I nodded, my voice trembling as I replied, "Of course you do, Bro. You've still got that mestizo charm. How could you not? You've got American blood, after all."

A soft laugh escaped him, fragile yet genuine.

"Six months," I continued, my voice breaking. "I've been in Manila for six months, Bro. Why didn't you tell me? I could've visited you so much more."

He smiled gently, his expression calm and accepting, but the weight of everything unsaid hung heavy in the air.

A silence settled between us, broken only by the steady hum of the machines around him. Then, with trembling hands, Gino reached up and removed his oxygen mask.

"Gino, don't—" I began, panic rising in my chest. "You'll have trouble breathing."

"I'm okay, Bro," he said, his voice faint but steady. His smile didn't falter, and somehow, that made it even harder to hold myself together.

"Gino..." My voice cracked, and the tears I'd been holding back came flooding out. I couldn't stop them even if I tried.

"Michael... I'm HIV positive..." he said, each word falling like a stone into the silence between us. "And... what hurts... the most... is that... my father... still can't accept me... especially now... with this illness..."