Aric wasn’t the type to meddle.

At least, that’s what Fynric had always believed.

But the moment he walked out of Fynric’s apartment that morning, the weight of what he had seen pressed heavy against his chest. He hadn’t just stumbled into a secret—he had stepped into a fire that could burn them all if it spread.

And though he hadn’t said it out loud, one thing had been clear in his eyes: he wasn’t going to let that fire consume them.

---

Later That Day

The group gathered again, this time at their usual spot by the riverbank. Joren was tossing pebbles into the water, making exaggerated commentary every time one skipped. Luthien sat beneath the tree with his sketchbook, as unreadable as always. Dorian sprawled across the grass like a king holding court, and Fynric sat a cautious distance away, though their eyes betrayed the truth of how close they’d been only hours ago.

Joren squinted at them, suspicion dripping from his grin. “So, what’s new with you two? Been looking awfully cozy lately.”

Fynric stiffened, but before he could speak, Aric cut in smoothly, dropping down between them with his easy grin. “Relax, Joren. If Fynric and Dorian were secretly hooking up, don’t you think I’d be the first to know?”

Dorian barked out a laugh, playing along instantly. “Exactly. Aric’s practically my shadow. If I so much as sneeze in Fyn’s direction, he’d be there with tissues.”

The others laughed, and just like that, the spotlight shifted away.

Fynric shot Aric a glance—one that said more than words ever could. Thank you.

Aric only shrugged, as if to say, I told you I’ve got this.

---

The Cover-Up Begins

Over the next few days, Aric became their silent guardian.

When Dorian lingered too long at Fynric’s place, Aric would “accidentally” call Joren and drag him out for drinks before he got curious.

When Luthien’s sharp eyes lingered a little too knowingly on the pair, Aric cracked a joke loud enough to break the tension, steering the conversation elsewhere.

And when Joren teased too close to the truth, Aric always swooped in with some distraction—usually a reckless story from his past that had them all in stitches.

To everyone else, Aric was just being himself. To Dorian and Fynric, he was building a shield—one they hadn’t asked for, but desperately needed.

---

In Private

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Aric muttered one night when he and Fynric found themselves alone, walking home after the others had left.

Fynric shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on the pavement. “You think I don’t know that?”

“I think you’re in deeper than you’ll admit.” Aric’s voice softened. “But I’m not judging you, Fyn. I just… I don’t want to watch you get hurt.”

Fynric’s chest ached. “…You won’t tell anyone?”

Aric stopped walking, turning to look him dead in the eyes. “Not unless you want me to. Your secret’s safe with me. Both of yours.”

For the first time since this started, Fynric exhaled. Relief and guilt tangled in his chest.

Dorian, of course, had no such hesitation. When Aric confronted him later, Dorian smirked. “Knew you were smart enough to keep your mouth shut.”

Aric shook his head, half-amused, half-frustrated. “Just don’t mistake me covering for you as approval. If you screw this up, if Fynric ends up broken because of you—I won’t forgive you, Dorian.”

Dorian’s grin faltered. For a moment, something raw flickered in his eyes. “…I’m not planning on letting him go.”

Aric studied him, then sighed. “God help me. I believe you.”

---

The Risk Grows

But secrets have a way of making themselves louder.

It was late one night when Joren showed up unannounced at Fynric’s door, buzzing with drunken energy. Aric, who had been hanging around nearby, intercepted him just in time.

“Hey!” Aric said quickly, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Perfect timing—I was just about to drag you to that new bar down the street.”

Joren blinked at him, then grinned. “Hell yeah. Let’s go!”

Aric shot a quick glance at Fynric’s window, where the shadow of Dorian moving inside was just barely visible. Then he pulled Joren down the street, his easy laugh masking the tension burning in his chest.

He was in too deep now.

But looking at the way Fynric’s eyes softened when Dorian brushed his hand against his, Aric knew he’d keep covering for them anyway.

Because some lines weren’t meant to be crossed.

And others… well, once they were, you either burned in the fire or you learned how to shield it.

And Aric had chosen his side.