The smell of pancakes and maple syrup wafted up the stairs as Leo descended, the soft pressure of the green cotton boyshorts grounding him with every step. His heart still raced from the whirlwind of emotions—panic, relief, and now a tentative, unfamiliar joy. Chloe’s acceptance had shifted something fundamental in him. For the first time, his secret didn’t feel like a weight. It felt like… possibility.
Downstairs, the Christmas morning chaos had settled into a cozy lull. His mom was at the stove, flipping pancakes with a practiced flick of her wrist, humming a carol slightly off-key. His dad sat at the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone, probably reading about new gutter technology. Chloe was sprawled on the couch, texting furiously, her grin barely contained. She glanced up as Leo entered, her eyes flicking to his jeans with a knowing twinkle before returning to her phone. The silent acknowledgement made Leo’s cheeks warm, but it wasn’t embarrassment—it was connection.
“Pancakes in five, Leo!” his mom called without turning around. “Grab some orange juice from the fridge, will you?”
“Sure thing,” Leo replied, his voice steadier than he expected. He moved to the fridge, the normalcy of the task anchoring him further. As he poured juice into glasses, he stole another glance at Chloe. She was still texting, but her lips twitched, like she was fighting a laugh. He wondered who she was messaging—probably her best friend, Mia, who was notorious for turning every family anecdote into a group chat saga. Leo prayed this particular story stayed between them.
Breakfast was a blur of buttery pancakes, his dad’s predictable complaints about the neighbours’ holiday lights, and his mom’s gentle probing about his spring semester plans. Leo answered on autopilot, his mind still replaying the scene in Chloe’s room. The gift. Her grin. The words: Welcome to the club. He felt like he’d been handed a key to a door he hadn’t known existed.
After breakfast, Chloe caught his eye and jerked her head toward the living room. “Hey, Leo, help me clean up the wrapping paper?” It was a flimsy excuse—Chloe was notoriously allergic to cleaning—but he followed her anyway.
Once they were alone, surrounded by crumpled gift wrap and empty boxes, she dropped the pretense. “So,” she said, stuffing a wad of red foil into a trash bag, “how’s the green pair treating you?”
Leo’s face flushed, but he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “They’re… good. Really good. You’ve got taste.”
“Damn right I do,” she said, smirking. “I spent, like, an hour at the mall picking those out. The sales lady thought I was buying for myself, and I didn’t correct her. Easier that way.”
He laughed, a short, relieved sound. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re welcome,” she shot back, tossing a stray ribbon at him. Her expression softened. “Seriously, though. You okay? I mean, I know I freaked you out.”
Leo hesitated, picking at a piece of tape stuck to the carpet. “Yeah. I’m okay. I was… terrified, honestly. Still kind of am. But you—” He paused, searching for the right words. “You made it feel like it’s not a big deal. Like it’s just… me.”
Chloe’s grin faded into something quieter, more genuine. “It is just you, dummy. And you’re my brother, so I’m contractually obligated to think you’re awesome, weird underwear choices and all.” She nudged him with her elbow. “But, like, maybe lock your suitcase next time. You’re lucky it was me and not Mom.”
The thought made Leo’s stomach lurch. “Don’t even joke about that.”
“I’m not!” she said, laughing. “Can you imagine? She’d probably try to have a heart-to-heart about self-expression while folding them into perfect squares.”
They both dissolved into laughter, the kind that made Leo’s sides ache and Chloe snort unattractively. For a moment, the world was simple again—just him and his sister, sharing a secret, laughing like they were kids again.
But the moment couldn’t last. The rest of the day passed in a haze of holiday rituals: board games with their parents, a cheesy Christmas movie marathon, and too many cookies. Leo kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Chloe to slip up or for someone else to notice something amiss. But nothing happened. The day was perfect, and by the time he crawled into bed that night, the green boyshorts still soft against his skin, he felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could keep this part of himself safe.
The next few days were a delicate dance of normalcy and vigilance. Leo stuck to his routine of late-night laundry and locked bathroom changes, but Chloe’s knowing looks made him feel less alone in it. She didn’t bring it up again, not directly, but she’d drop subtle hints—a comment about how “green is totally your color” during a game of Uno, or a playful nudge when passing him in the hall. It was her way of saying, I’ve got your back.
On New Year’s Eve, the family hosted their annual neighbourhood party. The house was packed with familiar faces—Mr. and Mrs. Thompson from next door, the Garcias with their yappy dog, and a rotating cast of Chloe’s high school friends. Leo played the dutiful son, refilling chip bowls and nodding politely through conversations about college life. But the crowd made him hyper-aware of his secret. Every time someone brushed past him, he imagined his jeans somehow betraying the delicate lace beneath.
Chloe, as usual, was the life of the party, holding court with her friends in the living room. Leo caught her eye across the room, and she gave him a quick, conspiratorial wink. It was enough to loosen the knot in his chest, if only a little.
As the night wore on, Chloe’s best friend, Mia, cornered him in the kitchen while he was grabbing more ice. Mia was tall, with a sharp wit and a penchant for asking questions that cut too close to the bone. “So, Leo,” she said, leaning against the counter, “Chloe’s been weirdly smug lately. What’s her deal? Did she catch you doing something embarrassing?”
Leo’s heart skipped a beat, but he forced a casual shrug. “She’s always smug. Probably just found a new meme to lord over me.”
Mia narrowed her eyes, clearly unconvinced. “Hmm. She’s got that ‘I know something you don’t’ vibe. Spill, college boy.”
“Nope,” Leo said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “Just sibling nonsense. You know how she is.”
Mia studied him for a moment longer, then shrugged. “Fine, keep your secrets. But I’m onto you two.” She grabbed a handful of pretzels and sauntered back to the living room, leaving Leo to exhale shakily.
Close call. Too close.
As midnight approached, the party migrated to the backyard for the countdown. Leo stood near the edge of the crowd, a plastic cup of sparkling cider in hand, watching his neighbours laugh and clink glasses. Chloe sidled up next to him, her own cup fizzing with something suspiciously stronger than cider.
“You surviving?” she asked, her voice low enough to blend into the chatter.
“Barely,” he muttered. “Mia’s sniffing around. You didn’t tell her, did you?”
Chloe’s eyes widened in mock offense. “Me? Betray you? Never.” She paused, then grinned. “Okay, I might’ve told her you have a secret, but not what it is. Gotta keep her guessing. It’s more fun that way.”
“Chloe!” Leo hissed, but there was no real heat in it. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”
“Relax,” she said, bumping his shoulder. “I’ve got this under control. Besides, it’s New Year’s. New year, new Leo, right?”
He looked at her, the fairy lights strung across the patio casting a warm glow on her face. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Maybe.”
The countdown began, and the crowd’s voices rose in unison. “Ten! Nine! Eight!” Leo felt a strange lightness as the numbers ticked down. For the first time, he wasn’t just hiding. He was sharing, even if it was only with one person. And that person was Chloe, who was shouting “Happy New Year!” with the rest of the crowd, her arm slung around his shoulders.
As fireworks popped overhead, Leo made a silent resolution: to be braver. Not reckless, not yet, but braver. To lean into this part of himself, even if it was just with his sister for now.
The rest of the break passed without incident. Leo’s paranoia eased, replaced by a growing confidence in his secret’s safety. Chloe kept her promise, and their parents remained blissfully oblivious. When it was time to pack up and head back to college, Leo felt a pang of reluctance. Home, with all its risks, had become a strange kind of haven thanks to Chloe.
On the morning of his departure, Chloe slipped into his room while he was packing. She held a small, plain gift bag, the kind you’d get at a dollar store. “One more for the road,” she said, tossing it onto his bed.
Leo eyed it warily. “If this is another pair of underwear, I’m gonna lose it.”
She laughed. “Open it, coward.”
He did, cautiously. Inside was a single pair of cotton panties, pale pink with a tiny white heart embroidered on the hip. Simple, sweet, and perfectly him.
“I figured you needed a travel pair,” Chloe said, her tone teasing but warm. “Something to remind you of home. And, you know, me being the best sister ever.”
Leo’s throat tightened. He pulled her into a hug, quick and fierce. “You’re the worst,” he mumbled into her shoulder. “And the best.”
She hugged him back, then pushed him away with a grin. “Go conquer college, weirdo. And text me when you wear those. I want a full review.”
He laughed, tucking the bag into his suitcase. “Deal.”
The drive back to campus was different from the one home. Lighter, somehow. The weight of his secret had shifted—it wasn’t gone, but it was shared, and that made all the difference. As he merged onto the highway, the radio playing some upbeat pop song, he thought about the semester ahead. New classes, new challenges, and maybe, just maybe, a chance to be a little more himself.
Back at the dorm, Ben was already there, sprawled on his bed with a gaming controller in hand. “Yo, Leo! How was home? Any wild holiday stories?”
Leo grinned, unzipping his suitcase to unpack. “Nah, just the usual. Family, food, you know.”
Ben nodded, already distracted by his game. Leo reached into his suitcase, his fingers brushing against the pink cotton pair Chloe had given him. He smiled to himself. The usual, sure. But also, something entirely new.
Over the next few weeks, Leo settled back into college life. Classes were intense, but he found himself more focused, more present. The secret he’d once guarded so fiercely now felt like a quiet strength. He started wearing his favourite pairs more often, not just on low-risk days but on regular ones, too. The lavender bikinis under his jeans during a lecture. The cherry red thong for a late-night study session. Each choice was a small act of courage, a nod to the Leo he was becoming.
One evening, while chilling in the dorm with Ben, Leo got a text from Chloe. It was a photo of her in a new pair of underwear—white cotton with black lace, identical to the pair she’d gifted him. The caption read: Twinsies for real now. How’s the pink pair?
Leo laughed out loud, earning a curious look from Ben. “What’s so funny, man?”
“Just my sister being a dork,” Leo said, typing a quick reply: Pink pair’s a hit. You’re still the worst. He hit send, then added, Thanks, tho. For everything.
Chloe’s response came instantly: Anytime, big bro. Keep rocking it.
And he would. One soft, secret pair at a time.
