Chapter 119 119: What You Thought You Saw
Jae was beside Baby in a flash, hugging his arm.
"I said nothing," she said, holding her brother's gaze with her own unwavering gaze.
"Um, Wong, chill. We were just chatting about how amazing your party turned out," Baby gestured around them.
Wong snorted. "Oh, please. You don't have to cover for her, Captain. She knows we don't care what her gender is—"
"I'm a girl, Wong. You're drunk," Jae cut him off.
Wong smiled. "Yeah... I'm drunk," he agreed, stretching his hand to Jae. "I don't care who my baby sister likes... but come on... not Sloane. She's older, she's evil, she's so strict, so... uptight—"
"Those are exactly why I love her," Jae stated, folding her arms.
"Oh my," Wong sighed.
"Alright, cool. But leave Baby out of this, unless you want him out before the championship," Wong shrugged, preparing to leave.
"Fine. I'll get to her myself. Just watch," Jae shrugged past Wong, smirking.
"Wait," Baby grabbed Wong's arm before he could leave.
"Mm?" Wong hummed, snatching a drink from a girl that was walking by.
"Do your parents really not care who she likes?" Baby couldn't help asking.
He found it weird to have two siblings discuss the other's sexuality like they were discussing the weather.
"Those two?" Wong scoffed. "Nah... sometimes I think my parents are trans... you know, my dad is the mom and my mom is the dad... like... my dad is the one who—"
"I get it, Wong... you're really drunk," Baby interrupted, frowning slightly.
"Why though?" he questioned.
Wong shrugged a shoulder. "Dunno. I guess it's one of their ways of being the most 'woke' parents. They admire those sorts of things... so, yeah, I'm chill with whatever. Ugh... my head hurts, I need a drink!" He tapped Baby's shoulder and danced away.
Baby stood there for a few seconds and slowly turned away.
What would it feel like to have parents like Wong's?
Woke parents?
That's definitely not his parents.
He just hoped they disowned him instead of killing him when he came out with Saint... he just hoped.
As he walked out of the house, he saw Oliver standing beside a car with Rode.
Without speaking to them, he went straight to his car and drove away.
He'd had enough drama from Oliver for the night, he wasn't sure he could condone more.
As he made his way home, he kept checking his phone for any other message from Saint, but nothing else showed.
He could have replied, explaining how he did not realise that Oliver was behind him.
But Saint would never believe him.
He would explain everything when he returned.
It was an impatient drive, and when he finally arrived, he hurried up to the apartment, eager to talk to Saint.
However, as he approached the door, his steps slowed as he heard Saint's and Kora's laughter booming from the apartment.
Once again, he forced himself to ask: was Oliver right?
Should he enter?
Should he return to the party and let the loud bass drown out the sound of their laughter in his head?
No.
The days of cowardice were over.
He was going to march in there and demand an explanation from Saint.
Could she be the reason why Saint insisted he wasn't coming to the party?
He would never know any of it if he kept standing out there.
With a deep breath, Baby opened the door and entered the apartment.
What he saw wasn't what he expected.
Saint was standing beside the mini bar with a drink in his hand while Kora sat in front of a couch, braiding her hair.
He was expecting to walk into a cheating scene... or, at least, something like that.
"Oh, hey... look who decided to return," Kora smiled at Baby.
Baby frowned. "I don't remember being friendly with you," he said, glancing at Saint, who had turned his back on him.
Kora smirked. "I wouldn't be worried about me if I were you. I'd be worried about explaining to my boyfriend how I took a snap with another guy... in a restroom." She winked at him, gesturing her head toward Saint.
"What? You..." he paused and glanced at Saint.
He felt a lot of things at the same time.
Happy, scared, unsure.
He never imagined that Saint had told Kora about them.
There he was thinking his boyfriend was cheating on him, but he was actually the one who owed his boyfriend an explanation.
Slowly, he approached Saint, but before he could touch him, Saint moved, walking into his room.
Baby froze for half a second.
That small movement—Saint stepping away—hit harder than anything Kora had said.
His chest tightened.
“Saint—”
No response.
The bedroom door didn’t slam, but the quiet click as it shut felt louder than any argument.
Baby swallowed, glancing briefly at Kora.
She only raised a brow, clearly entertained, before returning to her hair like none of this concerned her.
“Go,” she said casually. “Before he builds a whole scenario in his head and starts acting like a tragic hero.”
Baby didn’t need to be told twice.
He moved quickly, pushing the door open and stepping into the room.
Saint stood by the window, his back turned, shoulders tense, one hand gripping his phone tightly.
The city lights painted sharp lines across his figure, but his posture gave everything away.
He was pissed.
“Saint…” Baby called softly, closing the door behind him.
Still nothing.
Baby exhaled slowly, walking closer.
“I can explain.”
Saint let out a short, humorless laugh.
“Can you?”
That stung.
Baby frowned. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” Saint turned slightly, not fully facing him. “React to what I saw with my own eyes?”
“It’s not what you think,” Baby said, stepping closer.
“That’s funny,” Saint cut in, finally turning around. His eyes were sharp now, guarded. “Because from where I was standing, it looked pretty clear.”
Baby shook his head immediately. “Oliver walked in after I took the picture. I didn’t even know he was there until he spoke.”
Saint’s jaw tightened.
“And the hug?”
Baby blinked. “What—?”
“You let him hug you,” Saint said, voice low. “In the same place you were sending me selfies.”
Baby’s brows pulled together. “He asked for a friendly hug. I didn’t think it was a crime.”
“It is when it’s him,” Saint snapped.
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Baby stared at him for a moment, then scoffed softly.
“Wow.”
Saint’s expression flickered.
“What?”
“You don’t trust me,” Baby said, the realization settling in his voice.
Saint didn’t answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
Baby laughed quietly, but there was no humor in it.
“That’s crazy,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “After everything… you still think I’d do something like that?”
Saint stepped forward slightly. “It’s not about what I think you’d do—”
“Then what is it about?” Baby shot back, his voice rising just a little. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve already decided I messed up.”
Saint’s lips parted, but no words came out.
Baby’s chest rose and fell.
“I left the party early,” he continued, quieter now. “You know why?”
Saint stayed silent.
“Because I wasn’t having fun without you,” Baby said. “Because I missed you. Because I wanted to come home to you.”
That landed.
Saint’s gaze softened—just a fraction.
“But the first thing you do,” Baby added, “is assume the worst of me.”
Saint exhaled slowly, tension leaking out of his shoulders.
“I didn’t assume,” he said, quieter now. “I… reacted.”
“Same difference,” Baby muttered.
Another pause.
This one softer.
Less sharp.
Saint finally closed the distance between them, stopping just a step away.
“I saw him behind you,” he admitted. “And I just… lost it for a second.”
Baby looked at him, searching his face.
“You could’ve just asked me,” he said.
“I know.”
That word came out rough.
Honest.
Baby’s expression shifted, the anger easing just slightly.
“You really think I’d risk us for Oliver?” he asked, softer now.
Saint shook his head immediately. “No.”
“Then act like it,” Baby said.
Saint nodded once, slow.
“I’m sorry.”
The words sat between them.
Real.
Baby studied him for a moment longer, then sighed.
“You’re annoying,” he muttered.
Saint huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I’ve heard that.”
Baby stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him.
Saint didn’t hesitate this time.
He pulled him in tight, burying his face against Baby’s neck like he needed the reassurance.
“I don’t like him,” Saint murmured.
“I know.”
“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”
“I know.”
A small pause.
“…I don’t like imagining him touching you.”
Baby rolled his eyes slightly, but his hand came up to stroke the back of Saint’s neck.
“You’re jealous.”
“Very.”
Baby smiled faintly.
“Good.”
Saint pulled back just enough to look at him.
“You’re not helping.”
“I’m not trying to,” Baby shot back, softer now.
For a moment, they just stood there.
Close.
Breathing each other in.
Then Baby tilted his head slightly.
“You owe me something though.”
Saint raised a brow. “Oh?”
“A proper apology,” Baby said.
Saint smirked faintly. “I already said sorry.”
“Not good enough.”
Saint hummed, stepping even closer.
“And what would be good enough?”
Baby’s lips curved just a little.
“Convince me.”
Saint didn’t waste another second.
He leaned in, capturing Baby’s lips in a slow, deliberate kiss—nothing rushed, nothing desperate this time.
Just something steady.
Certain.
Like a promise.
And Baby, despite everything, melted into it anyway.