Archive of Our Own ^beta

I hate your sense of style and how your clothes fit just right

What is the definition of love?

Taesan stares at the words scrawled on the chalkboard at the front of the lecture hall, already rethinking every single life decision that has led him to this moment in time. 11 AM on a Monday morning, uncaffeinated and surrounded by people he doesn’t know because he’s in filler class that has absolutely nothing to do with his music major, the last of his general education courses as he wrapped up his final semester at university. A class on love, of all fucking things.

Now, don’t get him wrong, he’s not a hater. (Really, he isn’t!) He loves a lot of things—family dinners and long road trips, classic rock and vintage clothes, strawberries and caramel pudding. He loves love, because he knows love, something he grew up in abundance with. From his mother’s embrace to the movies he watches to the songs he writes. It’s something he treasures, holds near and dear to his heart. Dare say, he even dreams of it.

The tragic thing is that all his relationships have been exceptionally mundane and he has yet to meet someone that will make him feel like life truly has meaning, to break him out of his normal routine. He wants a love that makes him feel irrational, the kind of romance that’ll have him pacing his room in circles and blasting cheesy love songs on a boombox for the entire neighborhood to hear. Unfortunately, pursuing love in this day and age was simply migraine-inducing and he saved more time and dignity keeping to himself than prowling the college dating scene. Love is fleeting, always slipping out of his grasp the moment he lays his gentle hands on it. Try and fail, try and fail again. Rinse and repeat.

Actually, scratch that. He is a hater, the biggest to walk this earth, if being a hater meant despising how watered down the art of courtship has become and mourning the lack of substance to modern-day romance. Dating apps give him a headache and meeting people organically seems to be a thing of the past, an outdated practice. Dry texts and ghosting, a thousand awkward first dates with people who have the personality of drying paint. The preference for something casual rather than something worthwhile. What the fuck even is a situationship?

Point blank: these people knew absolutely nothing about love, and it pisses him off.

“Welcome to Love!” the professor chirps, a middle-aged man in a pair of Birkenstocks who looks way too happy to be lecturing to a crowd of tired twenty-something-year-olds. “Pleasure to have you all here.”

Taesan feels a sigh brewing in his chest. He can already tell this is going to be painful.

“To preface, I will be opening each class by asking a love-related question. A little preview of the lecture to get you thinking.” The professor leans back against his desk, crossing his arms with a smug kind of ease, as if he's about to drop some groundbreaking revelation. "So, let me ask you all—how do you define love?"

Several seconds of silence ensue, tension thick as students exchange awkward glances, shifting in their seats. Finally, someone pipes up.

“Love is when you’re willing to die for someone,” a student calls from the back. Corny, dramatic. Taesan rolls his eyes.

“I think it’s when you’re willing to live for them,” another student counters from somewhere else. Better, but still corny.

Taesan’s on the verge of zoning out when he sees movement out of the corner of his eye. A raised hand from across the room, fingers adorned with silver rings and nails painted a glossy wine red. His eyes trail from the owner’s hand, down a denim-clad arm, and over the plains of broad shoulders. He looks up, settling on a boy with sunkissed skin and chestnut brown hair. A pair of thick frames sit on the slope of his nose, pink lips pursed in a soft pout as he waits patiently for his turn to speak. Taesan feels his breath catch in his throat; he is, in all senses of the word, pretty.

The professor calls on him, curiosity alight in his gaze.

"Just as beauty lies in the eye of the beholder," Pretty Boy begins, his voice smooth and calm, each word deliberate. "Love takes on a unique shape for each soul, molded by the hearts that give and receive it. Maybe that's why love-inspired art is endless—its inspiration is as diverse and boundless as love itself."

The room falls quiet. Even the professor pauses, blinking as he allows the depth of his answer to sink in. Taesan, however, feels something entirely foreign stir in his chest. There was something about the way he said it, not just the words, but the way he made love sound like this untouchable, sacred thing. It strikes a chord deep within Taesan hidden beneath years' worth of cynicism.

Who the hell is this guy?

Against his better judgment, Taesan finds himself staring, suddenly a lot more interested in this stupid class on love than he ever thought possible.

I hate how you’re so passionate and won't go down without a fight

Does love at first sight exist?

The question on the board is different today, and it causes Taesan almost as much grievance as the one during syllabus day.

The class buzzes with excitement, students eagerly turning to one another to discuss their thoughts. Taesan scribbles down his own but doesn't bother facing his neighbors to participate. Both of them were preoccupied in their own conversations regardless.

As the noise began to dissipate, Taesan started to dread the excruciating headache he could feel coming. Once all the side comments ceased completely, everyone averted their attention to the front of the class. Several hands shoot into the air as soon as the professor prompts the discussion.

“I think it exists under the right circumstances,” someone starts. “Say you bump into someone at the supermarket, in the produce aisle. Suddenly you’re imagining what a life with them would look like, ten years into the future and you’re shopping for soup ingredients together. Something like that.” Taesan nearly rolls his eyes into the back of his head upon hearing this narrative.

“Of course love at first sight exists! I experience it all the time. Like, if I see someone really cute, I wanna ask for their number,” a girl two seats down responds, turning towards Taesan and sending him a wink. He fights the urge to throw up.

Taesan can feel his eye twitch from the sheer stupidity of his peers. What the hell were they on about? Did they think they lived in a Nicholas Sparks novel? Be serious.

Without thinking, he finds himself raising his hand, and he doesn’t realize the dire consequences of his actions until the professor calls on him and about a hundred pairs of eyes are on him, expectant.

“Everything you’re describing is attraction. You can be attracted to a person’s appearance, the sound of their voice, or even the personality they present. But attributing said attraction to love is ridiculous.”

“So, what is your stance then?” the professor probes, curious glint in his eyes.

“Love at first sight doesn’t exist.” His answer is firm, unwavering. “It’s something sold to hopeless romantics who are too naive to see things from a realistic standpoint. If anything, it’s pretty shallow, falling for someone so surface-level.”

“I disagree.” A voice cuts across the lecture hall; it’s Pretty Boy. Their eyes meet, and he offers a smirk before continuing. “Love at first sight does exist when you stop looking at things from such a cynical point of view.”

Taesan blanches and the other widens his grin, pushing up his thick black frames. He doesn’t know if he should be flattered that his pessimistic comment was worthy of a debate or annoyed that somebody dared challenge him on his very correct opinion. He opts for the latter, deciding right then and there that he looks less pretty today, more goofy, like the blue chipmunk from that one kid's franchise. He should rename him to Insufferable Boy. Bane of My Existence Boy. “Erm, Actually!” Chipmunk Boy.

“Love isn’t that simple,” Taesan says, narrowing his eyes. “You can’t just dish it out to every single person you meet.”

“Have you ever been in love?” he fires back, amused. “Let’s start there.”

“Why does that matter?” he retorts.

“You’re deflecting.”

“It doesn’t exist!”

“Okay!” Their professor claps his hands together, interrupting their bickering. “I can tell that many of you are very passionate about the subject matter. Some more than others.” A pointed stare, some stray giggles around the room. Taesan sinks into his seat, willing the ground to swallow him whole. “Perhaps you two can finish this discussion outside of class, hm? You might be surprised at what you learn from each other.”

If time travel were real, Taesan would go back to the moment he decided to enroll in this class and strangle himself.

The next week, Taesan situates himself in the back of the lecture hall, his pride having taken a hit from the Great Debate. He desperately needed a break from the unintentional spotlight he’s put himself in.

He’s in the middle of jotting down the daily agenda (Today’s question: Do opposites really attract?) when he hears the gentle scrape of the chair beside him being pulled back.

“Mind if I sit here?” He looks up and his fight or flight response immediately kicks in. Out of everybody in the class, it had to be the exact person wreaking havoc on his life. Pretty Boy, in all his glory.

Taesan shrugs, feigning nonchalance.

“Thanks,” he says, settling into his seat.

Taesan says nothing. Instead, he stares dead ahead, fiddling with his pen, uninterested in making eye contact and even more uninterested in making small talk. Stupid Pretty Chipmunk Boy.

They don’t engage in an argument today. In fact, it’s the first session where Pretty Boy doesn’t have anything to contribute to the discussion, much to the professor’s disappointment and Taesan’s glee. The invisible wall he’s put between them is working.

At least, he thought it was. They’re in the middle of lecture when the boy beside him clears his throat, nudging Taesan to grab his attention.

“You know, I thought a lot about what you said the other day,” he says quietly. “About love at first sight.”

He pauses, spares him a wary glance. “What about it?”

“I think you should expand your worldview.”

Taesan scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You’re just mad that I got the last word,” he replies curtly, refocusing his attention towards the board; he sees that he’s missed the last key points of the lecture and huffs in annoyance.

There’s a beat of silence, and Taesan is naive enough to believe that the conversation has been dropped. That Pretty Boy will give up on his weird personal mission to fill his life with whimsy sappy shit and turn him into a lovesick romanticist.

In his peripheral vision, he can see the other boy fidget in his seat, unsure if he should press further. He ignores him, and continues writing down his notes. Mid-sentence, Pretty Boy snatches the pen from his hand.

Taesan snaps his head towards him, livid. “What the hell—”

“Be my partner.”

His brain screeches to a stop and all profanities die on the tip of his tongue.

“What?”

“For the project. I’ll prove you wrong.”

Oh, right. There was a project.

Outlined on their syllabus was a midterm worth a good chunk of their grade: an analysis on the premises of love. A presentation, in pairs, that should reflect their understanding of different types of love styles and relationship dynamics.

There couldn’t have been a worse partner for it.

“That’s a horrible idea,” he says, voicing this sentiment. “We can’t agree on anything.”

Pretty Boy hums and takes his notebook, scribbling something down before sliding it back over. Myung Jaehyun, and a number.

“I like a challenge.”

I hate your stupid jokes and how they always make me grin

Taesan pushes open the heavy library doors, scanning the quiet space for Jaehyun. His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he doesn’t need to check it to know who it’s from. Jaehyun has sent at least three more texts on his walk over, each one more ridiculous than the last.

“Over here!” Jaehyun’s voice cuts through the quiet, loud enough to draw a few irritated looks from nearby students.

Taesan spots him lounging at a table near the back, sprawled out like he owns the place. His messy hair and carefree grin are exactly what Taesan expects, and for a brief second, he considers turning around and walking out. But he’s here for the project. That’s the only reason.

He walks over and drops his bag on the table. “You really need to work on your library voice,” he mutters, sliding into the seat across from Jaehyun.

Jaehyun just grins wider. “Didn’t think you’d actually show up, Mr. ‘I’ll Block You and Find a New Partner.’”

Taesan rolls his eyes, pulling out his laptop. “I’m here for the project, not for your commentary.”

“Sure you are,” Jaehyun says, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’ve been thinking about me all day.”

Taesan gives him a deadpan look. “I’m thinking about how fast I can get this over with.”

Jaehyun chuckles, enjoying himself. “You say that, but I know you’ve been dying to see me again.”

“Delusional,” Taesan mutters under his breath, opening up his notes on their assignment. “Okay, let’s get this started. We need to focus on—"

Jaehyun interrupts him, leaning in closer. “Come on, admit it, you missed me.”

Taesan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jaehyun, I’m two seconds away from walking out of here.”

Jaehyun laughs, sitting back in his chair. “Alright, alright, I’ll be serious. For now.”

Taesan shoots him a wary look but finally decides to move forward. “As I was saying,” he begins, pulling up their project outline, “we need to analyze different love styles and relationship dynamics. The presentation has to show a comprehensive understanding of how love works across different contexts.”

Jaehyun’s face lights up. “Perfect! We’ll start with love at first sight.”

Taesan groans, already regretting this partnership. “We’ve been over this—love at first sight doesn’t exist. We’re not doing a project based on something that has no basis in reality.”

Jaehyun leans forward, the playful challenge clear in his eyes. “You’re just scared because you’ve never felt it. Trust me, once you experience it, you’ll get it.”

“I’m not scared,” Taesan shoots back, annoyed. “It’s just unrealistic. Love takes time. It’s not something that happens in an instant.”

Jaehyun hums, amused by Taesan’s reaction. “That’s because you think too much.”

Taesan raises an eyebrow. “And you don’t think enough.”

“Hey,” Jaehyun feigns hurt. placing a hand over his heart. “I think plenty. But love isn’t something you can analyze with a checklist, Taesan. It just… happens.”

“That’s not how it works.” Taesan’s frustration continues to brew, Jaehyun’s nonchalant attitude only making it worse.

Jaehyun stares at Taesan with a determined gaze. “Maybe not for you. But you can’t deny that sometimes, you just know when something’s right. Love at first sight is real, and I’ll prove it to you by the end of this project.”

Taesan scoffs, crossing his arms. “Good luck with that. I’m not changing my mind.”

Jaehyun grins, completely unfazed. “We’ll see about that. Like I said in class—I like a challenge.”

Taesan stares at him, unsure if Jaehyun is being serious or just messing with him. Probably both. “We’re not making this entire project about your fantasy,” Taesan says firmly, pulling his notes closer. “I was thinking we could focus on pragma, practical love. It’s realistic, grounded, and something we can actually analyze.”

Jaehyun wrinkles his nose, unimpressed. “Pragma? Of course you’d pick that. Boring, predictable, sensible.”

“Realistic,” Taesan corrects, tapping his notes for emphasis. “It’s the most practical type of love. People who stay together long-term do it because they’ve built something meaningful over time.”

Jaehyun looks at him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “So this is how you think love works? As business transactions? Going through a laundry list of criteria and seeing if their resume is satisfying enough for you to decide, ‘Yep, this is love.’”

“Now you’re just putting words in my mouth,” Taesan sighs, exasperated. “There is no list. It’s about knowing what you want, what makes a relationship work. Pragma is effort, compromise, shared values—things that matter.”

Jaehyun chuckles again, shaking his head. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“And you’re impossible,” Taesan mutters, flipping through his notes, trying to ignore how easily Jaehyun is getting under his skin.

Jaehyun taps his pen against the table. “Tell you what. We’ll do pragma—your boring, logical love—but I’m working love at first sight into this project. Somehow.”

“You can try,” Taesan says, not bothering to look up from his notes, “but I’m not budging.”

“What happened to compromise?” Jaehyun chuckles, mischief in his voice. Taesan shoots him an unimpressed glare. “You’ll come around. Who knows, maybe by the end of this project, you’ll be in love with me.”

Taesan doesn’t even blink. “I’ll let you know when that happens,” he replies dryly, not looking up.

Jaehyun’s eyes sparkle with amusement, taking on a sing-song-tone. “You say that, but I’m irresistible. I’ll have you falling for me before you know it.”

Taesan simply shakes his head, typing away on his laptop. “Keep dreaming.”

Jaehyun’s laugh echoes softly, but there’s no real bite behind the exchange. “Oh, I will,” he says, leaning back in his chair, satisfaction written all over his face.

Taesan sighs, going back to his notes. “Let’s just get this over with before I actually block you.”

If God had favorites, Taesan most definitely wasn’t one of them. He feels like shit, both mentally and physically, and all he wants to do is crawl into his bed and sleep for the next thirty-five business years. He just left his professor’s office hours for his music composition class, mind weighing heavy with the harsh critique he received on his demo. Something about how he isn’t experimental enough, too traditionalist to the point where everything he produces sounds unoriginal and boring. Playing it safe, whatever that means.

He’d normally be more accepting of the feedback, if it weren’t for the midterm he most definitely bombed for his music theory class, having blanked out and spending the allotted two hours staring at his exam in complete and utter defeat. He ended up guessing on the majority of the questions, turning in his paper with his head tilted down in shame. He couldn’t even get himself a pick-me-up because he’d forgotten his wallet at home.

He’s tired, hungry, and fucking pissed. It’s well into the evening now, the sun dipping beneath the skyline, and every second he wasn’t at home was a second closer to him choosing violence.

He’s approaching his bus stop when he stops dead in his tracks, a neon orange “DELAYED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE” blinking on the screen where the scheduled pickup times were usually displayed.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Taesan mutters under his breath. Today could not have gone any worse.

A clap of thunder sounds and the sky, already overcast, opens up. He feels a cold, wet raindrop on his arm, and then another. He looks up just in time for the drizzle to turn into a full-on downpour. Great. Just great. He pulls his hoodie up over his head, its thin fabric barely offering any protection. The rain seeps through almost instantly, clinging to his skin and chilling him to the bone.

He glances at the road again, hoping, praying that the bus might miraculously show up. But the bus stop remains eerily quiet except for the sound of raindrops hitting the pavement. The delayed sign continues to blink, taunting him, and with a frustrated sigh, he stuffs his hands into his hoodie pockets.

I just want to go home, he thinks miserably, kicking at the puddle forming near his feet. He briefly considers calling Sungho, his roommate, but remembers he has a club meeting and wouldn’t be able to do anything for at least another two hours anyways.

He’s in the middle of calculating how long it would take him to walk back to his apartment when he hears the faint rumble of a car engine cutting through the rain. He barely glances up at first, not thinking much of it, but then the car stops right in front of him, headlights shining on his soggy, pathetic frame. Taesan squints through the rain, trying to make out who it is, when the window rolls down.

“Taesan?”

He blinks, surprised. “Jaehyun?”

He did not expect to see Love Class Pretty Chipmunk Boy staring at him worriedly. Jaehyun, his knight in shining armor, here to save the day in his beat-up Toyota Camry that looked like it was on the verge of breaking down. He’s leaning over from the driver’s seat, one arm hanging casually out of the window.

“Why are you just standing here?” he asks.

“Uh…” Taesan glances at the delay notice again. Jaehyun’s eyes follow his line of vision and his face morphs from confusion into one of understanding. He shifts the car into park, leaning over and opening the passenger door.

“Get in,” Jaehyun instructs, voice firm.

Taesan hesitates for only a moment. He’s cold, he’s soaked, and the bus clearly isn’t coming anytime soon. “Yeah, okay,” he mumbles.

Taesan scrambles over to the car, climbing inside with haste. He feels a little guilty, soaking the fabric of his car seat, but Jaehyun thankfully doesn’t seem to mind. He has the heater on, a steady stream of warmth seeping through the vents and thawing his clammy skin. It smells faintly of old fast food and cheap air freshener, lemon scented. It just made sense.

Jaehyun glances over at him, eyebrows raised. “You good?”

Taesan nods, though the exhaustion is still heavy in his bones. “Yeah… just a rough day.”

Jaehyun looks at him questioningly. Taesan stares back, confused. "What?"

"Your address?" Jaehyun clarifies.

“Oh, right,” Taesan says, realizing he hadn’t even told Jaehyun where he lived yet. “I live right outside campus, by the ice cream shop.”

Jaehyun nods and puts the car into drive. But before they pull away, he hands his phone over to Taesan. “You wanna play anything?”

“Sure,” he replies. He queues up this old pop song he’d been fixated on recently, expecting it to start playing from the car speakers. Instead, the tinny vocals of the lead singer start blasting from the phone. He looks up, puzzled, to see if the device was hooked up to the aux. He tries to unplug and plug it back in, but to no avail.

He sighs. Great, he broke Jaehyun’s aux.

“You kinda have to, uh, wiggle it around,” Jaehyun says sheepishly, reaching over to help him. He places the phone in the cupholder and adjusts the cord, thin rubber split open and internal wires on display. Finally, the song cuts off briefly and returns through the stereo.

“Dude, your car is falling apart,” Taesan mutters, half-joking.

Jaehyun just laughs. “Hey, it gets the job done.”

The car ride is quiet, almost awkward, as the rain beats steadily against the windows. Taesan stares out at the blurry lights of the city, feeling the tension in his body slowly start to melt away, Still, the events of the day swirl in his mind, refusing to let him fully relax.

Jaehyun glances over at him again, breaking his train of thought. "You sure you're okay?"

Taesan gives a short, non-committal hum. "Just really tired."

As they near Taesan's apartment, the awkwardness in the car lingers, but it's not entirely uncomfortable. There's something oddly comforting about Jaehyun's presence, even if neither of them say much.

When they finally pull up to the curb, Taesan reaches for the door handle. "Thanks for the ride. I seriously owe you one. How can I make it up to you?"

Jaehyun's grin returns, playful, "You could always profess your undying love for me right now, you know you want to."

Taesan snorts, finding that he appreciates Jaehyun's lighthearted stupid jokes after a long hard day. Jaehyun makes everything feel less heavy. "Okay, something realistic, dude."

Jaehyun laughs, but his eyes glint with mischief. “What’s so bad about loving me, huh?”

“Do you want a list?” Taesan shoots back, though there’s no real bite to his words.

“You’re so mean to me,” Jaehyun whines, though it’s all in jest.

“With love,” Taesan adds quickly, playing along for once.

Jaehyun raises his eyebrows, still sporting a playful smile. “Oh, love, huh?”

Taesan freezes, realizing the implication behind his words, but he quickly brushes it off. “Not like that.”

Jaehyun hums, a knowing smile on his face. “Someday you’ll mean it.”

Taesan feels his heart skip a beat, but he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he opens the door and steps out into the rain, his mind racing.

“Just—Get home safe, okay?” Taesan dismisses him, ignoring his last comment and how it made him feel.

As Jaehyun’s car pulls away, Taesan stands there in the rain, watching until the taillights disappear down the street.

He’s drenched to the bone, but his soul feels as if it were lit aflame.

“What are you doing after this?” Jaehyun asks one day.

Class had just ended, and they were packing up their things while waiting for the hoard of students to file out of the lecture hall.

“Dunno.” Taesan shrugs, slipping his bag over his shoulder. They start to make their way down the stairs. “Why?”

“Wanna grab some boba with me? There’s a place near campus I’ve been meaning to try out.” He pushes open the door, holding it for him. “Wait, you do like boba right?”

Before Taesan could even respond, Jaehyun’s attention wanders to somewhere across the quad, eyes lighting up in recognition.

Taesan follows his gaze to see two guys walking in their direction. One of them, a tall blonde with glasses, has his arm casually draped over a shorter guy with bubblegum pink hair, freshly dyed, who seemed comfortable with the touch. The ease between them made it obvious—they were more than just friends.

Jaehyun beams and waves them over. “Leehan!”

The blonde, Leehan presumably, looks around and grins when his eyes settle on the pair, steering his boyfriend in Jaehyun and Taesan’s direction. “Where are you guys coming from?” Leehan asks as they approach them.

“We just got out of class,” Jaehyun explains, shooting a quick glance at Taesan. “SOCI 143, the love course.”

Leehan laughs, raising an eyebrow. “Love, huh?” He turns to Taesan with a friendly smile. “And you are?”

“This is Taesan,” Jaehyun jumps in. “He’s my partner.”

“Oh! I didn’t know…” he trails off and turns to Jaehyun, who only offers a smug grin. His initial shock quickly makes way for a laugh, light and airy. “Okay, wow! Congrats, man.” Leehan nudges his shoulder, teasing lilt to his voice.

“It’s not like that!” Taesan is quick to correct, feeling his face heat up. “It’s for a project.”

“Whatever you say, partner.” Leehan still looks amused, enjoying Taesan’s flustered reaction. “What’s the project about?”

“Love analysis,” Jaehyun replies with a shrug.

“Oh, sick. Sounds deep. Hope you guys crush it.”

Riwoo, who had been quietly standing by Leehan’s side, finally speaks up, his voice soft but warm. “Good luck,” he offers with a small smile in Taesan’s direction.

“Uh, thanks,” Taesan mumbles.

Leehan glances at Jaehyun again. “Alright, well, have fun analyzing love,” he says with a wink. “We’ve gotta run.” He reaches for the shorter boy’s hand as they turn to walk away, still close together. Taesan doesn’t miss the way their fingers interlock and Leehan brings their joined hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of Riwoo’s.

Jaehyun watches them leave with a thoughtful look. “You know,” he starts, “we could use real people we know as examples. Like them.”

Taesan looks over at him, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

“We could interview them—ask about their relationship. Break the project into sections, each one focused on different kinds of love, using real couples we know.”

Taesan considers it for a second. It wasn’t a bad idea. Actually, it was a really good one. “Yeah, that could work,” he admitted.

Jaehyun shot him a smug look. “See? I’m not as useless as you think.”

Taesan rolls his eyes, though the corner of his mouth lifts slightly. “Don’t get cocky.”

Jaehyun laughed, sporting a satisfied grin. “This might actually be fun.”

The boba shop is warm and inviting, with a soft hum of chatter filling the air. Taesan and Jaehyun step inside, Taesan ordering his usual peach oolong tea, half sugar, while Jaehyun opted for a wintermelon milk tea with a cheese foam topping, full sweetness.

“Hey,” Jaehyun starts as they settle into their corner seats. “What’s your major, by the way? I never actually asked.”

Taesan blinks a bit before answering. “Music.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow, genuinely curious. “Music? Then why are you taking this love class? I thought it's for sociology majors. It’s my minor, at least.”

Taesan shrugs, leaning back in his seat. “It’s a gen ed requirement, but I figured it could help me with my lyrics, you know? Like, most of the feedback I get is that my romance songs don’t feel… I don’t know, authentic enough? I thought maybe learning about love would help me figure that out.”

Jaehyun’s counters, “I mean, love isn’t exactly something you can learn from a class. It’s not textbook material. You have to feel it, experience it.”

“You’re literally in the same class though,” he points out.

“Yeah, but I’m not here to learn how to love,” Jaehyun laughs softly. “I’m just curious about the concept. It’s not like I’m expecting a crash course on how to love. I just want to understand it better, see how other people perceive it.”

They settle into a comfortable silence, Taesan taking a slow sip of his drink and savoring the flavor of muted peach and fresh brewed tea.

“I’d love to hear it, by the way.” Jaehyun says suddenly.

Taesan whips his head up and blinks owlishly at the boy in front of him. “What?”

“Your music. I wanna know how you perceive love.”

“Oh, I’m not sure if you’d like it,” Taesan deflects, fiddling with a straw wrapper. “Considering I’m not the biggest romanticist.”

Jaehyun gives him an encouraging smile. “Still, it’s something you created, right? You should be proud of it.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Taesan replies. He pauses for a moment as Jaehyun’s words linger in his mind. He pulls out his phone, scrolling through his files until he finds one titled take_my_tears.mp3. “Here,” he says, sliding the device over and removing the headphones from around his neck. “This is my most romantic song, I think.”

“Oh?” Jaehyun’s eyes light up, intrigued.

Jaehyun takes the headphones and is about to slip them on when something shiny catches Taesan’s eye. He hadn’t noticed earlier, but Jaehyun’s wearing a pair of silver hoops today—bold and contrasting against his warm-toned complexion.

"You have piercings?" Taesan blurts.

"Oh, these?" Jaehyun pauses his ministrations and reaches up to fiddle with his earlobes. "Thanks, they're new. Got them last month." He then studies Taesan with curiosity.

"Do you have any? Piercings, I mean."

Taesan brushes his fringe aside, revealing small silver studs in his double lobes. "Yeah. I want more though."

Jaehyun laughs, the sound light and easy. It sends a flutter through Taesan's chest, but he ignores it.

"Me too. I've been thinking about an eyebrow piercing. Or,” Jaehyun pauses, considering, "maybe even a lip one."

Taesan's eyes widen, before he can stop himself, he blurts out, "Wouldn't it be uncomfortable?"

Jaehyun tilts his head, "Uncomfortable? How?"

Taesan shifts awkwardly, "Like, I don't know. When you kiss?"

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow, and then a smirk tugs at his lips, "Why, are you thinking about kissing me, Taesan-ah?"

Taesan feels his ears burn bright red, absolutely regretting bringing it up in the first place. He instantly wishes he could crawl into a hole and die. He hates the way his brain-to-mouth filter disappears around Jaehyun, especially when it leads to this.

Jaehyun chuckles softly, relishing in Taesan’s embarrassment. "I guess we could find out?"

Taesan's mouth goes dry, barely able to hold eye contact. "Just shut up and listen to the song already," he mutters, waving Jaehyun off and willing the flush in his cheeks to die down.

Jaehyun obeys, placing the headphones over his ears and picking up the phone from the table. He hits play, and Taesan sucks in a breath, nervous to share a bit of his soul with someone who isn’t a professor or a stranger through a screen.

He has this unreadable expression on his face, and Taesan is already thinking of a million reasons to snatch the phone out of his hands and disappear off the face of this earth because of course he should be ashamed for thinking his songs are good and Jaehyun is practically a stranger and a hopeless romantic one at that and why would he think he would enjoy his music let alone his lyricism they literally have completely different interpretations of love they couldn’t even agree on a project topic until earlier today and oh my god his professors were right he sucks and Jaehyun hates it and he’s a horrible musician and he should switch majors and—

“I really enjoyed it!”

Taesan blinks owlishly at him. “You did?”

“Yeah, I really loved the line about kissing under the constellations,” he replies, wrapping the cords around the headphones before handing them over. He smiles, teasingly. “I thought you said you don’t do romance?”

“Well, I don’t,” he says bluntly. “At least, that’s what I’ve been told.”

Jaehyun studies him for a moment, tilting his head. “You should stop listening to what other people say so much, y’know?”

Taesan falters, caught off guard. Jaehyun pushes the phone towards him.

Then, in a gentle voice, “You’re an amazing musician, Taesan. More than you give yourself credit for.”

There’s a shift in the atmosphere, Taesan can tell from the way Jaehyun’s eyes refuse to leave his and how his hands still linger near his own, almost touching but not quite. Their usual playful back-and-forth banter has given way for something more serious, more sincere. They were wading through completely foreign territory, and Taesan doesn’t know what to make of it.

“Thanks,” he finally says, clearing his throat.

Jaehyun hums and pulls his hands back, taking a sip of his drink. Taesan listens as the boy across from him begins to ramble about the hierarchy of boba tea, shifting the conversation casually as if he didn’t just change the entire trajectory of his worldview.

If there’s butterflies in his stomach and a funny feeling in his chest, he ignores it.

I hate your eyes, nose, lips, and your golden honey skin

The afternoon sun seeps through the stained glass of the library windows, casting a warm, golden glow over Jaehyun and Taesan. The scene is peaceful, fragile almost, a stark contrast from their usual dynamic. Here, with nobody watching, in an isolated corner of the building, they don’t speak, simply coexist, basking in each other’s presence. Taesan’s attention subconsciously drifts from the document housing their love analysis, taking the opportunity to study his project partner in a manner he hasn’t been able to do since the day he first saw him.

His gaze travels down to Jaehyun’s hands that rest lightly on the edge of his laptop.

The light catches the faint moles dotting Jaehyun’s fingers, barely noticeable at first but captivating nonetheless. He lingers there, tracing the delicate moles in his mind, following the shape of Jaehyun’s fingers as they drum along to the beat of whatever song is playing in his headphones.

His eyes drift to Jaehyun's face. He never noticed it before, but there’s the faintest hint of freckles scattered across his nose bridge that fade into the apples of his cheeks, lost constellations on a canvas of smooth skin.

He’s full on staring now, zeroing in on Jaehyun’s lips as he bites his lip in concentration. He recalls their conversation at the boba shop, and thinks, yeah, he'd look good with a lip piercing.

Shit. Where had that come from?

He drags his focus back to the document they were supposed to be working on. They had spent the last couple of hours trying to organize the notes from Leehan and Riwoo’s interview, but the more they worked on it, the harder it became to put the right words together.

The interview itself had gone well, smooth, even. Leehan and Riwoo had talked easily about how their relationship had evolved, how they had gone from best friends to something more. They spoke with a kind of understated honesty, the kind that made their story feel grounded. Leehan had smiled the whole time, speaking about how naturally things had changed, how Riwoo had always been his safe space, even before they realized it was love. Riwoo had listened, quiet but content, adding in soft-spoken details that painted a picture of a relationship that felt… delicate.

That’s the problem, though. Their love isn’t loud or dramatic—it’s quiet, steady, and deeply rooted. There are simply no words in the spoken language that could fully capture their bond.

Jaehyun, uncharacteristically serious, furrows his brow as he scrolled through the notes. “I don’t know how we’re supposed to phrase this,” he mutters, frustration creeping into his voice. “It’s like… nothing we write gets it right.”

“Yeah,” Taesan sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Their love is fragile, but in a way that makes it important. Every word feels off, like we’re missing something.”

Jaehyun nods, still frowning at the screen. “I get what you mean. It’s not fragile like it’s gonna break. It’s just… careful. Like they’ve built it up over time, brick by brick.”

“Exactly,” Taesan agrees, grateful that Jaehyun understood. “But we’re over here trying to box it into neat little phrases, and it just doesn’t fit.”

Jaehyun leans back, resting his head against the chair. He stares up at the ceiling for a moment, his fingers still drumming absentmindedly on the table.

Jaehyun lets out a frustrated groan. “I don’t know, man. Maybe we’re just overthinking it.”

“Maybe,” Taesan mumbles, his eyes still scanning the notes. “We’ve got time to figure it out.

“Wanna get out of here?” Jaehyun’s voice cuts through the silence, catching Taesan off guard.

The next thing he knows, Taesan finds himself in the passenger side of Jaehyun’s car once more, the familiar rumble of the engine vibrating through the seat. The windows are rolled down, the wind whipping through his hair and the air smelling of autumn—crisp and clean, the kind that made you feel alive. Jaehyun had bought a new cable for his aux since the last time he was in it, the rich timbre and soothing melody of an indie rock ballad playing through the speakers.

Jaehyun is driving with one hand, his other arm resting out the window, fingers tapping along to the beat of the music. He looks so at ease, so free.

As the car speeds through the quiet streets, Taesan's mind wanders back to Leehan and Riwoo during the interview and how Leehan looked at Riwoo like the world had fallen away and nothing mattered except the person beside him. The love Leehan and Riwoo have for each other isn’t anything grand as they depict on the big screen, rather it is something softer, more delicate. He treats Riwoo with a special kind of tenderness not because he thinks he’ll break but because he deserves to be handled with love and care. It almost feels like they’re in a world of their own, a snowglobe if you will, gentle and cozy and far away from the ugliness of reality. Or maybe a sculpture, crafted with careful hands and bated breath.

Their love is something to marvel at, but they themselves aren’t even aware of how beautiful they appear to the naked eye. Not that they intend to, as they’re content as long as the other is by their side. They don’t flaunt their love, yet it’s evident to anyone who ever had the pleasure of meeting them.

The sick, twisted part of Taesan’s heart twinges in jealousy and longing. That type of bond is but a foreign concept, outlandish and obscure to a boy like Taesan. Reserved only for couples like Leehan and Riwoo, who had found their way to each other, slowly but surely. The forbidden fruit dangling in front of Taesan, something he wanted on a carnal level but refused to allow himself to indulge in. Even if he found the courage to take a bite, he isn’t sure if he would know how to.

Jaehyun glances over at him, that same carefree smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're quiet," he says, raising his voice over the music. "Something on your mind?"

Taesan closes his eyes and leaned against the seat. "Nah, just zoning out."

"Good," Jaehyun replies, cranking the volume up even more. "You think too much."

He glances at Jaehyun, ethereal in the setting sun, golden halo illuminating his frame. He’s humming along to the song on the stereo, carefree as always. For a fleeting moment, Taesan wonders what it would be like to want someone without holding back, fully and unapologetically. He wills his thoughts to settle into a quiet roar, the dull ache of yearning for something more lingering in his chest.

I hate how your laugh makes my chest feel warm and fuzzy

Jaehyun walks over to the passenger side, opening the door and holding it as Taesan steps out of the car. “What a gentleman,” Taesan says, deadpan, taking in the view of the diner. It’s this retro-themed building, something straight out of a classic Hollywood film. “Where did you take me anyways?”

“It’s somewhere I’ve been going to for a while. I used to babysit the owner's grandson.” Jaehyun heads towards the door, holding it open and ushering Taesan to step inside.

“Hi, welcome—Ah, Jaehyun!” The boy behind the counter drops the rag in his hand and starts waving his hands sporadically as the two of them step in.

“Yah, that’s Jaehyun hyung,” Jaehyun replies, feigning annoyance but still smiling anyways.

The boy rushes over, nearly tripping over one of the bar stools, and pulls Jaehyun in a warm embrace. Taesan watches as the elder tousles his hair, much to the younger’s protests. There’s something enigmatic about the way Jaehyun interacts with the ones he cherishes most in his life, how they give him love and he’ll return it tenfold. How his love isn’t tangible, yet it still manages to consume. Like the moon and its tide, rhythmic and true and a force to be reckoned with.

This addictive feeling that Taesan had yearned to experience, wrapped up perfectly with every interaction. There are traces of Jaehyun wherever he goes, wherever he loves. He can tell, even with this boy whom he hasn’t properly met yet.

The young boy leads the two of them to the closest empty booth, Jaehyun and Taesan both slide into their respective sides. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

“Oh, right. Woonhak, this is Taesan. He’s my partner.” Jaehyun begins. Taesan clears his throat. “Project partner.” He clarifies, glancing at Taesan with a small grin.

“Thanks for being his friend, he doesn’t go out much,” he chirps. Jaehyun promptly smacks him upside the head, to which the younger let out an embarrassingly loud yelp. Woonhak rubs the back of his head, pouting for sympathy before straightening himself again. He reaches out a hand; Taesan reluctantly shakes it. “I’ll get you guys started with the Jaehyun Special. Grandma should be out any minute now, she’ll be very happy to see you, hyung.” He places a thin menu in front of them before disappearing into the kitchen.

Jaehyun watches Taesan flip through the menu, glazing over the assortment of traditional diner-style meals. Taesan indecisively skims through the entire selection, unsure of what his stomach calls for.

“So what’s the Jaehyun Special?”

On cue, Woonhak returns, carrying a strawberry shake with a concerning amount of whipped cream drizzled on top, garnished with red heart sprinkles and gold edible glitter. In the center of the drink, a hot pink straw looped into the shape of a heart, diverged into two ends with the intent of sharing, and completed with a cherry on top. Taesan stares in horror; in his peripheral vision, he can see the ‘Cupid’s Shake’ being advertised on one of the drink pamphlets. Woonhak places it in front of the two, smiling so brightly that it’s almost blinding.

“You’re joking, right?” he says in disbelief. He glances over at Jaehyun, who has an unreadable expression on his face.

There’s an overlap of “Yes” and “No.” Taesan thinks this might be worse than purgatory.

Taesan eyes the drink up and down before shifting his focus over to Woonhak. “This doesn’t even look remotely edible.”

“Well… At least it’s on the house!” He beams, taking off before Taesan can pester him any further (and before they can order, you know, actual edible food).

There's a momentary silence, Taesan quietly fuming and Jaehyun twiddling his thumbs in ignorant bliss.

“So… Do you want the cherry?” Jaehyun asks.

“There’s no way you’re asking me that right now.”

“Fine,” he shrugs, plopping the cherry right in his mouth. “Suit yourself.”

Contrary to Jaehyun’s initial protests, he takes a giant sip out of the milkshake and closes his eyes in pure bliss. Taesan, albeit still grossed out, can’t help but feel a sense of fondness as a giant smile forms on his face. He looks youthful like this, innocent even.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm!” he hums. Taesan genuinely cannot tell if he’s exaggerating or not.

Once he opens his eyes, he gestures to Taesan to try it as well. Taesan refuses, shaking his head profusely, but Jaehyun is insistent on it and he knows he won’t back down any time soon.

Taesan hesitantly grabs his end of the straw and brings it towards his lips, slowly sipping the shake. It tastes like diabetes on his tongue, the artificial strawberry sickeningly sweet and gag-inducing. He forces it all down with a grimace on his face.

Jaehyun returns the smile, leaning in to take another sip, his face inches away from Taesan’s. Taesan feels his face burning up, wanting to pull back but refusing to let Jaehyun use this moment as ammunition. That doesn’t stop Jaehyun from messing with him, winking at Taesan which makes him shift in his seat. “Are you in love with me yet?” Jaehyun whispers, his breath warm against Taesan’s skin, eyes twinkling in amusement as he leans forward.

Taesan knows he’s just messing around, but the question catches him off guard, making him choke a bit on the drink. He pulls back, coughing and trying his best to catch his breath as Jaehyun erupts in laughter, covering his mouth with one hand.

“Ask me again in a week,” Taesan shoots back, hoping his voice sounds as casual as he wants it to.

Jaehyun continues laughing, amused. “You’ll come around.”

Seeing Jaehyun take pleasure in the moment left Taesan flustered and all he could think about was crawling into a hole and dying. But as he gathers himself, a scowl he was ready to wear softens into something else entirely. The way that Jaehyun’s chest moved up and down with every quick inhale and exhale, the way his laughter fills the space – it captivates Taesan. He wasn’t able to wrap his head around this feeling that began to stake into his chest. He felt himself staring for a little longer than he should have and he could have sworn that he felt his heart stop beating.

“Hey, Jaehyun hyung—Oh, shit, am I interrupting something?” Woonhak freezes in his tracks, kitchen doors still swinging behind him.

“Yah, Woonhak!” Jaehyun yells, pulling back and slamming his hands on the table. Taesan releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding, breaking out of his trance-like state. “Watch your mouth before I wash it out with soap.”

As the two began bickering, Taesan’s eyes wandered to a specific corner in the back of the diner. An old jukebox sat dormant – it looked like no one’s touched it in decades. Taesan’s able to slip away from the booth undetected, or so he believed, anyways.

Approaching the jukebox, he was immediately drawn to its vintage look, something that would be a classic staple in a 1950’s advertisement. It’s covered in a layer of dust and Taesan has to hold back a sneeze but he still marvels at the sight of it. He scans the tracklist, recognizing some of the titles as power ballads his dad used to play for his mom on lazy Sundays.

“It won’t work, if that’s what you’re trying to figure out.”

Taesan jumps at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. He turns to find an old woman leaning across the countertop, a fond smile on her face. She makes her way over to the jukebox, wiping her hands on her apron and placing them on her hips. The lights catch on her left hand, where he notices not one, but two wedding bands on her ring finger.

“The only one who could figure it out was my husband,” she sighs. “Don’t know what to do with the old thing now.”

“Why not get rid of it? Or find someone to repair it?” Taesan asks curiously.

“Oh, you know… Memories.” She begins to fidget with her rings, twisting them in circles out of subconscious habit.

He doesn’t know how to respond, so he doesn’t. He spares a glance and it is only in this moment does he take the time to study her. She looked to be in her late sixties, or early seventies, smile lines creasing around her eyes and age spots scattered across her skin. She had a full head of gray hair with streaks of her natural black, cut short and tied back with a bandana.

"Grandma!" Jaehyun calls warmly, stepping out from the kitchen. He runs around the counter and pulls her into a gentle hug, careful not to squeeze too tight. "It's been a while."

"Ah, Jaehyun," she sighs with a smile, patting his back. “It’s always nice to see you.”

“I see you’ve already met Taesan,” Jaehyun says, glancing between them. “Taesan, this is Mrs. Shin, the owner of the diner.”

"We chatted for a bit while you were gone,” Taesan admits sheepishly. “It's nice to properly meet you."

Mrs. Shin's eyes twinkle, her fondness for Jaehyun transferring seamlessly to Taesan. She reaches out to pat Taesan's arm gently. "What brings you boys here today? Just stopping by for a visit?"

"Actually we were just taking a break from working on our project together. We have to analyze different kinds of love and we're stuck. Figured we could use a good ol’ milkshake as a pick me up."

Mrs. Shin chuckles softly, the sound rich with memory. "Love, huh? That's a deep topic," she says, her gaze drifting back to the jukebox in the corner. "You know, my husband used to say this place ran on love."

She’s got this wistful look in her eyes, looking into a life that has long since passed.

“He was a big fan of Western culture. Loved the music, the food, and the people. This diner allowed him to have it all. It was his dream, really. I just helped him bring it to life.”

Jaehyun and Taesan exchange a quick glance, sensing the gravity in her words as she continues.

“We built this place together after we got married. He did the designing, the decorating, all of it. He was passionate about everything he loved.” She smiles, though there’s a faint crack in her voice. “He passed away ten years ago, but I’ve kept the diner open. Not because I have to, but because it’s where his spirit lives on.”

Taesan watches her carefully, something warm building in his chest. He scribbles a few quick notes in his mind, realizing just how much love could remain, even after someone is gone.

“Wow,” Jaehyun breathes out softly. “That’s... beautiful, Mrs. Shin.”

She waves a hand dismissively, though the smile stays. “He is the love of my life. Even though he’s not here anymore physically, this place, our memories, it keeps him alive in a way. I want people to feel the love that was poured into these walls.”

Taesan nods quietly, realizing they’ve stumbled onto something more than just a casual conversation. “Could we—uh—maybe talk to you more about it for our project?” he asks cautiously, not wanting to impose.

She smiles fondly, taking a deep breath. “I would love that.” Mrs. Shin invites them to sit down at the bar, making sure they’re comfortable and fully prepared to immerse themselves in her story.

“Now, where shall I begin?”

I hate how your sincerity makes me feel like I’m somebody

“Do you ever think about how time is fleeting?”

They’re walking now, having bid goodbye to Woonhak and Mrs. Shin a bit ago. Jaehyun insisted on showing the surrounding area, eager to show Taesan the neighborhood in which he grew up.

“Not particularly.” Taesan shrugs. “Why?”

“It’s just that…” he continues, considering his next words. “We are never promised any tomorrows, yet we allow our fears and hesitations hold us back from truly living.”

Taesan kicks at a stray pebble. It flies into the road, lost to oncoming traffic. “It’s safer that way, I suppose.”

“Who cares?” Jaehyun huffs, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets. “I want to live life to the fullest. Heartbreak be damned. It just proves that I’m human, that I still have a heart.”

It’s the first time Taesan has seen Jaehyun so serious about something, and he allows his words to sink in and settle down into his bones. He thinks about how the other boy unabashedly wears his heart on his sleeve, cuts and bruises accumulating like battle scars with each painful experience he pushes through. How he hands out love and patience to anybody willing to accept, because he believes in the inherent good of human nature. How he still harbors a fear of the world for its cruelty and uncertainty, yet he embraces this side of him because living with no fears is about as foolish as not living at all. He wishes he could be like that, to have the courage to love freely and not give a damn. To love and fuck up, and live and fuck up, to try again and fuck up.

“You can still have a heart even if you guard it.”

He continues to walk along the pavement, avoiding the cracks and trying to match his stride with Jaehyun’s. The other’s footsteps falter, then draw to a halt. Taesan looks up, confused.

Jaehyun’s silently studying him, a pensive expression on his face. Taesan shifts uncomfortably.

“Jaehyun? Is something wrong?”

He feels vulnerable, self conscious. Cornered, like a bird with a clipped wing, and Jaehyun a hunter observing potential game.

“Why do you do that?” he finally asks.

Taesan freezes. Jaehyun’s bow is raised, the arrow notched and ready to fly.

“Do what?” Taesan hesitates, feigning ignorance in an attempt to buy more time. To answer? To flee? He doesn’t know.

Jaehyun sees right through him anyways.

“Deflect. Live in fear.”

Bullseye. Pierced straight through the heart.

He breaks eye contact, turning away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“See? You’re doing it again.”

“I don’t know what you expect from me.”

“You think too much. You spend too much time fixating on the negatives in life that you don’t realize there is a whole world of opportunity out there waiting for you. You just have to chase it.”

“It’s not that easy,” he sighs exasperatedly. “We can’t all live like you.”

“What’s stopping you?”

He shakes his head, wringing his hands. “Let’s just drop it.”

“No,” Jaehyun replies firmly. It catches Taesan off guard, the other boy usually more lighthearted and compliant. “I wanna know why.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

They’re at a standstill, Jaehyun defiant and unwavering and Taesan resistant and stubborn.

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not!”

“You don’t know me.”

“Then allow me to.”

“Look, I don’t know if we share the same sentiment but I consider us more than just project partners. I wanna get to know you, the real you. I don’t care about the superficial shit. I care about your likes, dislikes, everything that makes you you. Because you matter to me.”

After Jaehyun drops him off at home, Taesan paces his room for what feels like hours. His mind keeps circling back to their conversation—how Jaehyun had pushed him to let people in, to stop overthinking everything. The conversation weighs heavy on him, making his stomach twist in knots as he is forced to confront this side of him. He hates how Jaehyun makes it sound so simple.

“What’s stopping you?”

A lot of things, really.

The thing with Taesan is that he is a coward through and through. He isn’t the type to make the first move or talk about his emotions, to take initiative or make risky decisions. He’d rather bottle things up, linger in self-doubt and allow unanswered questions to gnaw at his skin, through the flesh and straight to the bone. It’s familiar, a method that has been tried and true.

He swallows his pride and shove his sense of worth to the side because he believes hiding his hurt would somehow make his relationships last longer. He’d offer only his most desirable traits to hide his grotesqueness, to make it seem like he’s made of something nice and pretty. Han Taesan, docile and willing and tied together with a neat bow.

With a frustrated sigh, he grabs his phone and stares at the screen for a while, debating. He could just let it go, pretend this was all about the project like usual. But it wouldn’t feel right. Jaehyun had been clear about wanting more, wanting him to open up.

Jaehyun, willing and eager to penetrate through his defenses regardless of Taesan’s attempts to push him away. Jaehyun, who raises him up with gentle hands no matter how many times he tears himself down. Jaehyun, who shows him kindness and makes him feel wanted, feel seen.

His thumb hovers over Jaehyun’s contact before he finally hits the call button, heart racing as he waits.

Jaehyun picks up almost immediately, his voice bright and full of mirth, “Hey, what’s up? Miss me already?”

Taesan rolls his eyes, though his heart skipped a beat at how easy Jaehyun made everything seem.

“Do you wanna go to this movie screening with me?” The words tumbles out fast, and he quickly adds, “For the project. Obviously.”

There is a pause on the other end of the line before Jaehyun responds, amusement clear in his voice. “Right. For the project.”

Taesan can practically hear the grin in Jaehyun’s voice and cringes, feeling the heat creep up his neck. He bites his lip, trying to find the right words. "I mean, it doesn't have to be for the project... I just thought, y’know, maybe we could... hang out. Together." His voice trailes off shyly, barely managing to get the words out.

Jaehyun is quiet for a moment, and then Taesan hears his soft chuckle through the phone.

"Took you long enough."

Taesan groans, rolling his eyes even though Jaehyun couldn’t see him. “I’m just asking, okay?”

Jaehyun’s grin is obvious in his next words. “What, like a date?”

Taesan scoffs, flusters, his heart beating a little too fast. “That’s not what I said.”

“Maybe not,” Jaehyun replies, still chuckling, “but I’ll take it. I want to spend time with you, too.”

Taesan blinks, feeling his chest tighten at the unexpected warmth in Jaehyun’s voice. He doesn’t know what to say, so he stays quiet, feeling a bit exposed.

Jaehyun, ever so casual, breaks the silence with a teasing, “It’s a date, then.”

Taesan can’t stop the small smile from tugging at his lips, his heart still racing, but he lets it slide.

“Whatever.”

I hate when you change your mind as quickly as the seasons

The days leading up until their hangout go by excruciatingly slow, Taesan growing into a jumbled mess of nerves and excitement as the weekend crawls closer. Granted, he had been the one to initiate a hang out—not for a project or any other excuse, but because he wanted to. As friends, of course.

He keeps reminding himself that it’s just a movie, nothing more, nothing less. Just two dudes watching a rescreening of About Time at a small, cozy theater, where they will likely be surrounded by a sea of couples on dates. Not that what they were going on was a date. There didn’t have to be any romantic undertones. No big deal.

That last message made Taesan smile, despite himself. The warmth behind Jaehyun’s words had been undeniable—he could almost hear the grin on Jaehyun’s face. It made Taesan feel something he hadn’t allowed himself to in a long time. Hope.

But by the time the day arrives, his nerves were back in full force. Taesan shows up at the theater ahead of their agreed upon meeting time, having left his apartment unreasonably early out of paranoia of being late. He grabs seats near the back of the theater where it was quieter, a good spot if they wanted to make any commentary. He keeps glancing at the entrance, waiting for Jaehyun’s familiar face to show up. Ten minutes before the movie is scheduled to start, there’s still no sign of him. Taesan tells himself it’s fine. Jaehyun was probably running late, he usually is, anyways.

But when the lights dim and the opening scene flickers across the screen, doubt starts to claw its way to the surface. He sneaks a peak at his phone again to see if Jaehyun has responded to him. Nothing.

He’s about a quarter way through the movie. By now, the protagonist has met the girl of his dreams and is using his time traveling abilities to create the perfect meet-cute. In the audience, Taesan remains waiting for a boy he isn’t even sure will show up, the seat beside him as empty as he feels. His chest weighs heavier with every passing second, disappointment and self-doubt rotting him from the inside out, consuming him whole. The anticipation leading up to this day, the excitement to share a piece of himself with Jaehyun—fizzled out to give way to a bitter sense of hollowness that only intensifies as he watches the main characters’ love story unfold.

The movie seems to drag on, prolongating his misery and suffering. Every emotional moment on screen is a fatal blow to his pride, each romantic gesture a painful reminder of everything wrong with him. The characters were falling in love, saying things he longed to hear, living a life that’ll never be his.

It’s during this one particular scene, where the couple gets married in the midst of a summer storm, everything in disarray but none of it mattering because they had each other, does Taesan find himself choking back a quiet sob. He wipes away hot tears, eyes red rimmed and rubbed raw. He’s sure a few others are crying too, but none of them for the same reason as him.

When the credits roll, he doesn’t move. He sits there, staring at the screen, trying to process the numbing ache settling in his chest. Jaehyun hadn’t shown up. And despite everything, a part of him had really believed he would. He hates how much it hurts, how much he still cares. He hates the voice in the back of his mind telling him he’s unloveable and undeserving. Most of all, he hates that it was Jaehyun who made him feel this way, when it was he himself who first gave him the courage to open up, to have hope.

Now all he’s left with is a hole where his heart should be, gaping and barren. A damn lovefool, deluded into thinking he was special.

Eventually, Taesan pulls out his phone, scrolling through their chat again. No new messages. No explanation. His thumb hovers over the keyboard, unsure of what to say, but he finally types out:

His phone sits heavy and unresponsive in his lap, the lack of notifications feeling like a silent mockery, each moment of silence hitting him like a punch to the gut.

As he left the theater, the cold air stung his face, and he shoves his hands into his pockets, trying to block out the chill. His mind keeps circling back to what Jaehyun had said just days ago. About letting people in. About living life without fear.

“You matter to me,” Jaehyun had said.

But if that was true, why hadn’t he shown up?

The empty street around him felt as hollow as the pit in his chest. He kicks at a stray pebble, watching it disappear into the headlights of a passing car. He should’ve known better. Jaehyun is nice to everyone—why would Taesan be any different? He’d let himself hope, and now he felt worse for it. Worse for believing, for letting his guard down even a little.

This dream—of being cared about, of being wanted—wasn’t for him. Not really.

He isn’t as important to Jaehyun as Jaehyun is to him.

To love and be loved is but a pipedream, a life Taesan was never meant for. Jaehyun made that very clear.

I hate how I still care even when you give no reason

Taesan slumped on the couch, his phone still in hand, staring at the open chat with Jaehyun. A wall of texts stare back, all sent from him, taunting. He tries to ignore the pang of hurt resonating through his chest, to brush off the frustration and confusion that was tying his stomach in knots.

“Still nothing?” Sungho’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. He’s sitting on the other end of the couch, feet tucked beneath him, watching Taesan with a gentle gaze.

“Yeah,” Taesan sighed, locking his phone and tossing it onto the cushion beside him. “I don’t even know why I’m so bothered. It’s not even a big deal, it was just a stupid meet up.”

Sungho hums, tilting his head, thoughtful. “I wouldn’t say it isn’t a big deal. It always sucks when someone doesn’t follow through with a promise, no matter how trivial.”

“I mean, I guess.” Taesan shrugs, leaning his head back against the couch. He stares at their shitty popcorn ceiling as if it will answer all his troubles. “I just wish he told me, you know? Instead of leaving me in the dark. It makes me feel like...” He trails off, unsure of how to explain it. He was never good at verbalizing his feelings, being vulnerable. An ugly Pandora’s box of insecurities he’s always steered clear of. “I don’t know,” he settles for.

Sungho raises an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”

He does. God, he does. Putting that out into the universe was terrifying, though. Sungho waits patiently for him to gather his thoughts.

“Like I’m not worth the effort,” he tries again. “I try so hard and I give bits of myself to people and it’s still not enough. It drives me crazy. Makes me wonder if I should even bother letting people in.”

Sungho is quiet for a moment, watching him carefully. Then, with a soft breath, he replies, “I understand.”

Taesan lifts his head, looking at him curiously. “You do?”

He nods.

“It’s really easy to let these hiccups dictate our lives. Relationships, platonic or not, aren’t always smooth sailing. There will be days where it feels like all the odds are stacked against you, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth it. That you’re not worth it.”

Taesan allows the weight of Sungho’s words to sink in. He knows they aren’t talking about just being stood up anymore, but rather something deeper, scarier.

Sungho continues, his tone gentle. “You know… with Euijoo, it can be really hard sometimes. Long-distance is a lot of work. Like, a lot. It was a big adjustment for us, since we started dating while he was an exchange student here. Going from seeing each other almost every day to being hours apart in the blink of an eye, I almost thought we wouldn’t make it. The timezones were difficult to navigate— they still are. There have been days when he’s forgotten to text, or fell asleep before we got the chance to call. And it sucks, ‘cause it feels like he doesn’t care in these instances. It would be so easy to just… let it go, say it’s not worth the effort.”

Taesan’s eyes widen, his mouth forming a little ‘o.’ Sungho rarely talks about his personal life, at least the ugly parts. He presents himself as someone put together, a reliable friend who kept a level head and always knew what to say or do in a difficult situation. He never thought to dig deeper, past the surface level conversations about their days or what kind of milk to buy during their next grocery run. Taesan feels a little guilty for this, too.

“But here’s the thing,” Sungho says, his voice a little firmer now. “Even when the distance makes everything seem impossible, I know it’s worth it. I know he’s worth it. I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else, even if they lived right next door.”

Taesan shifts on the couch, his chest tightening as realization crept in. He thought about the easy smiles, the dumb jokes, and how Jaehyun’s presence always made things feel lighter. How his absence left him feeling crushed and devastated and hopeless.

“So, you don’t regret it?” Taesan asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “Even when it feels like you’re at your breaking point?”

Sungho shook his head with a small smile. “Not at all. I will always choose him, us, flaws and all. I wouldn’t change a thing for the world.”

Taesan reels back, overcome with a tsunami of emotions, washing over his heart and his mind with tremendous force. He wants nothing more than to mean as much to Jaehyun as the other boy means to him. To be the reason why he feels butterflies in his chest where there should be a steady pulse, why he can’t sleep even in the dead of night. He wants Jaehyun.

“I think I get it now,” Taesan murmurs, almost to himself.

Sungho’s smile widens slightly, understanding the shift happening within Taesan despite being oblivious to his inner thoughts. “Yeah,” Sungho says softly, “I think you do.”

Like clockwork, the sound of tires screeching resonates from outside their building, followed by the loud blare of a car horn going off and frantic footsteps pounding on pavement. Both Taesan and Sungho’s phones begin to vibrate in unison—a crescendo of notifications from their security camera, no doubt—accompanied by the incessant knocking on their front door. An angry “Watch where you’re fucking going, dumbass!” and a timid “Sorry!” can be heard through the wood, albeit muffled.

Taesan perks up, eyes widening in realization. Sungho gives him a knowing smile.

Taesan pushes himself from the couch, about to make his way towards the front door when he pivots to face his roommate.

“Thank you, by the way.”

Sungho just nods, shooing him away. “Don’t keep him waiting.”

When he opens the door, Jaehyun stood there, disheveled and breathless, his hair sticking up at odd angles like he had just rolled out of bed. His shirt is slightly wrinkled and he’s wearing a pair of polka dot pajama pants with a pair of mismatched sneakers, and his eyes were wide with panic. Taesan barely has enough time to process the sight of him before Jaehyun fell to his knees and bows his head in shame. "I'm so, so sorry!" he gasps.

“Jaehyun what are you—Get up, oh my God!” At this, Jaehyun scrambles to his feet.

“I–I thought we were hanging out tomorrow,” Jaehyun continues, running a hand through his messy hair, making it stick up even more. “I pulled an all-nighter, then took a nap, and when I woke up, I saw your texts and realized I completely missed our hangout. I thought it was tomorrow, but the days are blurring together, and I drove straight here as soon as I realized—and I’m like really, really sorry about disturbing your neighbors by the way—but I swear, Taesan, I didn’t mean to stand you up.”

Taesan just stands there, staring at him in a mixture of awe and disbelief. He feels all his pent up anger and frustration from the past few hours dissipate in an instant, heart swelling with fondness for the boy in front of him. Jaehyun is giving him a pleading look, his eyes glassy with tears, almost as if Taesan’s acceptance is the one thing keeping him from crying. It’s endearing, almost, and he finds himself biting back a smile.

"You're… an idiot," Taesan mutters, though there was no heat in his voice. He steps aside, letting Jaehyun inside.

Jaehyun shuffles in, his expression still apologetic. "I really am sorry," he said again, turning to face Taesan once they were inside. "I know you waited, and I feel like an ass for making you think that I just changed my mind or like, that I don't care or something ridiculous like that."

“Jaehyun,” Taesan says, his voice softer than before. "It’s okay. I forgive you.”

Jaehyun's face brightens immediately, the guilt in his eyes fading into relief. Before Taesan can process what’s happening, he finds himself locked in the other boy’s embrace.

“Thank you, for trusting me,” he sighs into his ear. He smells like fresh laundry and feels like home.

Perhaps this is what Sungho meant by knowing when someone is worth the trouble, worth the risk.

He wraps his arms around him, clinging.

For Taesan, Jaehyun would always be worth it.

Taesan stares at Jaehyun’s last few messages and lets out a short laugh, shaking his head as he locks his phone and sets it aside. He still isn’t used to the other boy’s outward display of affection, how terms of endearment come naturally to him and flirty comments don’t hold much weight beyond face value. It’s even worse now that he’s finally come to terms with his feelings for the older boy. Navigating his relationship with Jaehyun has always been complex and confusing, and it’s only grown more difficult because he’s stuck in this weird limbo of wanting to maintain their friendship and resisting the urge to pursue something more. Platonic, romantic, whatever. Jaehyun made his head spin regardless.

A medley of piano resonates through the lecture hall, effectively cutting off Taesan’s train of thought. A man starts singing, an emotionally charged ballad about regret and wanting to fix things with his lover. He glances towards the front of the room, where he finds the question of the day scrawled on the board in white chalk: How do we deal with conflicts in love?

A little on the nose.

There's about three minutes before class starts, and Jaehyun still isn’t present. He scans the faces of the students trickling in, searching to no avail. He’s about to turn his attention back to his notebook when he notices the cluster of students forming near the front door, a series of hushed giggles turning into full blown laughter as people sneak glances in what seems to be Taesan’s direction. He swears he sees some people whip out their phone cameras, too.

He perks his head up, trying to see what’s going on, only to realize to his acute horror that Jaehyun isn’t within the crowd, but the reason why the crowd formed.

He steps forward, perfectly lip syncing along to the song whilst wearing this ridiculous sign that says, “I AM AN IDIOT!” in a messy Sharpie. He stares, dumbfounded and red with humiliation, as Jaehyun does a twirl, pointing his thumbs towards another sign on his back, this one reading, “PLEASE FORGIVE ME, HAN TAESAN!” He looks over his shoulder and winks, blowing him a kiss.

Taesan is going to fucking kill him. Project be damned, he can do it alone.

Taesan can feel his cheeks heating up as the other students begin to laugh, some taking videos of Jaehyun’s over-the-top theatrics. His heart pounds in his chest, equal parts mortified and so annoyed. Jaehyun always knows how to push his buttons, and this? This is on another level.

Jaehyun makes his way up the aisle, not caring in the slightest that he’s making a scene, climbing on top of the table at the end of Taesan’s row. He dances across the surface before dramatically dropping to his knees in front of him, fists clenched in a death grip around an invisible microphone and mouth agape in a silent belt. He then rolls off, and, still on his knees, takes both of Taesan’s hands in his and stares straight into his eyes, lip syncing with the same pain and anguish that could rival that of a second lead in a melodramatic K-drama.

Taesan’s embarrassment flares, his patience wearing thin as Jaehyun’s theatrics reach their peak. “Myung Jaehyun, sit your ass down!” he hisses, trying to pull his hands away, but Jaehyun retaliates by tightening his grip and continuing to sing, completely unfazed.

Taesan glares at him, absolutely mortified. Why is he doing this? They’d already talked last night. Jaehyun had shown up at his door, breathless and apologetic, and they’d worked things out—he'd even forgiven him. So why is he putting on this ridiculous performance in front of everyone?

Yet, as much as he wants to stay angry, there’s something about the grand gesture that Taesan’s heart start to thaw. Jaehyun is here, willingly tossing his dignity and pride to the side with the dopiest grin on his face, completely ignoring the crowd as if this moment is just about the two of them. It’s absurd, yes, but the fact that Jaehyun is willing to publicly make a fool of himself—even though they’ve already made up—makes something akin to fondness and endearment stir within Taesan. He’d even go as far to say that he feels special.

As the final notes of the song play out, Jaehyun gently squeezes Taesan’s hands, his eyes wide and apologetic, mouthing the words, “Forgive me?”

Taesan exhales, the weight of everyone’s eyes on them, and though he’s still dying of embarrassment, he can’t stop the tiny smile tugging at his lips. He tries to hold onto his frustration, but Jaehyun’s grin is just too disarming. “You’re such an idiot, I swear,” he mutters, voice barely above a whisper.

Jaehyun’s grin spreads even wider, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “But I’m your idiot.”

With the performance over, Jaehyun stands up, still beaming, and finally, mercifully, takes his seat next to Taesan, like nothing ever happened.

Taesan, cheeks still flushed, barely dares to look at him, his heart pounding for an entirely different reason now. Even though he wants to strangle Jaehyun for putting him through this public spectacle, a quiet warmth settles in his chest. Because beneath all the ridiculousness, Jaehyun has made him feel undeniably, unmistakably cared for. And Taesan knows now, without a doubt, that it’s not just his head in this—his heart is fully in Jaehyun’s orbit too.

I hate how I orbit around you like the earth does the sun

“So,” Sungho starts, leaning back in his chair, a teasing grin already spreading across his face. “That guy from your class. The one who nearly broke our door and gave us a noise complaint. You two a thing yet?”

“No,” Taesan responds instantly, a little too sharp. Then, with some hesitance, “He—Jaehyun—he doesn’t see me like that.”

Sungho raises an eyebrow, slowly grabbing a fry and chewing like he’s deep in thought. “What makes you say that?”

“I dunno. He’s him, and I’m… me.”

Sungho gives him a long, unimpressed look.

Taesan rolls his eyes, but finally gives in with an annoyed huff.

“Like, okay, he’s nice, I guess. He remembers my likes and dislikes and asks about my interests and yeah, he checks in on me or whatever, but that’s just him being a good friend. He’s like that with everyone. People love him ‘cause he’s sociable, always laughing, making everyone feel comfortable. He’s popular, alright? He’s just got that whole ‘nice guy’ thing down. It’s not like we’re anything special. It’s just how Jaehyun is.”

He crosses his arms and frowns, oblivious to the fact that he had gone on a whole tangent about a boy he claimed to only have a platonic relationship with.

Sungho gives him the most deadpan look. “Dude.”

Taesan spares him a quizzical look. “What?”

“Are you seriously going to make me spell it out for you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sungho groans and rubs his temples with his thumbs, looking like he’s on the verge of an aneurysm. He looks back at Taesan, expectant, but the latter remains silent.

“You like him.”

Taesan opens his mouth to protest, but Sungho cuts him off.

“And he likes you. He literally ran all the way here just to explain why he didn’t show up—and then he spent the whole day still making up for it after you already talked it out. The guy’s making a fool of himself for you. People are trying to guess what he did to Han Taesan. There's Tiktoks of him with that stupid sign on in class everywhere. And you think that’s just how he is?”

He swallows thickly, all words dying on the tip of his tongue. Sungho may have a point.

“What do you think I should do?” he asks quietly.

Sungho’s expression turns gentle, and he places a comforting hand over his, touch featherlight.

“I think that’s something you have to figure out on your own, Taesan-ah. Regardless, I know you’ll make the right decision.”

Sungho’s phone starts vibrating, indicating an incoming call. He pulls back and glances at the contact, eyes immediately lighting up. It must be Euijoo.

“I gotta run, but I’ll see you at home, okay?” he says, making haste to grab his jacket and bag.

Taesan makes a noncommittal hum, waving him off.

“Oh, and Taesan?”

He glances up at the sound of his name.

“Change isn’t always so bad.”

Before he gets the chance to respond, Sungho is gone, leaving Taesan to simmer in his thoughts with a basket of soggy fries.

He’s still for a moment, before he finds himself fishing the presentation cue cards out of his backpack, filled with dialogue he prepared with Jaehyun earlier that week and had since then memorized. He flips through them, skimming over every anecdote and well-timed joke, every metaphor and analogy they used in their analyses of love.

They were fully prepared, everything set in place. Yet, something was missing.

He thinks about Jaehyun and how much his life has changed since meeting the boy, the world tilting on its axis, the earth gaining a second moon. He thinks of every single couple they encountered, how their stories started with a spark and bloomed into something bigger because they had heart, because they had courage. He thinks about himself and the cage he’s trapped himself in, emotionally stunted and afraid but still full of hope and longing.

It’s right then and there, sitting in the booth of a tiny hole-in-the-wall cafe on a Tuesday afternoon, fluorescent lights hanging overhead and the smell of oil and grease stinging at his nose, does inspiration hit him like a tidal wave.

He whips out a pen and uncaps it with his teeth, scribbling something on a blank card. He writes and he writes and he writes until the words spill over and he has to continue on a new sheet. He writes until his hand cramps up and words no longer make sense.

He sets the pen down, staring at his work, taking it all in.

He’s ready to take the leap, for better or worse.

I hate how I feel like you could be the one

Taesan stands at the front of the lecture hall, his voice calm yet carrying the weight of what’s to come.

“Love... it’s impossible to define, isn’t it?” he begins, his eyes scanning the room. “It refuses to be trapped within the confines of words, or textbooks, or theories. Love is lived—it’s something each of us experience differently. So for this presentation, we wanted to go beyond definitions and share the stories of three real couples. Couples whose love, in its unique forms, reveals something deeper.”

They start off with soulmate bonds, and how Leehan and Riwoo are the perfect depiction of it. How their love is gentle and pure like a winter’s first snow, quiet like the steady bloom of a flower on a warm spring day. It’s subtle at first, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kind of connection, but then it grows and seeps into your bones, all encompassing. Plato’s Symposium plays with the idea of humans being split apart into two different entities, born missing their other halves. They spend their entire lives searching, yearning for the puzzle piece that completes them. With them, they make even the most cynical of people believe in fate.

They then move on to eternal love, and how even in death love will prevail, transcending the boundaries between life and what comes after. The tale of a widow keeping her late husband’s spirit alive in the diner they opened together, his legacy of love and passion left behind in her tender and careful hands. Years will pass by and familiar faces will morph into that of strangers, but her heart will always remain with him, intertwined.

At last, a demonstration of patient love and commitment, and how Sungho and Euijoo exist as a couple separated by distance, but never by heart. Their love transcends national borders, nurtured by trust and honesty and understanding. It isn’t easy, it never is with these things, but it is raw and it is real and it is theirs. A garden to call their own, tended to with utmost care and flourishing with the fruits of their love.

Moments pass in a stream of emotions—the class nodding in agreement, eyes softening at the tenderness in the stories told.

Jaehyun glances at the next slide, the conclusion in sight. As he reaches for the clicker to wrap things up, Taesan steps forward again, clearing his throat, pulse racing at what he’s about to do.

“I know we said that we’d be presenting only three couples and their stories, but I’d like to bring your attention to a fourth.”

Jaehyun shoots him a confused glance; Taesan hadn’t told him about this extra addition.

‘What?’ he mouths.

‘Just trust me.’

“There’s a Japanese expression—koi no yokan, the premonition of love—that encapsulates the feeling one gets when they meet somebody and know, deep down, that they are bound to fall in love. It isn’t love, not quite, but there is a spark, the smallest hint of infatuation that has the potential to set off a wildfire.”

He turns his attention to Jaehyun, not breaking eye contact. The other boy stares back in earnest.

“When we first met, you asked me if I believed in love at first sight. I said I didn’t, and you thought that was the most outrageous thing a person could say. You promised that us working together would get me to change my mind. To be honest, I still don’t, but there was a shift in perspective.

“I was in denial for a really long time. I couldn’t fathom the idea of giving my heart to someone, of being vulnerable. Of someone wanting me just as much as I wanted them. I was scared, but….” Taesan turns to Jaehyun, who’s looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky just for him.

“Jaehyun, you make me brave. You make me feel like I can face the ups and downs, the trials and tribulations, everything love has to offer. You pushed past my defenses and carved your way into my life, made such a permanent mark that I don’t know what I’d do without you now.

“So, no, I didn’t fall in love with you at first sight. But I knew I would, I always did. And here I am, standing in front of an entire lecture hall with my heart in my hands and everything at stake, to tell you that I am in love with you. Present tense, fears be damned.”

“You looked at me once and gave me a chance. Now I’m asking you to take one with me.”

A stunned silence fills the lecture hall. Eyes dart between the two boys, some whispering, others frozen, caught in the rawness of the moment.

For a long moment, Taesan stands there, his heart pounding in his chest. He feels the weight of the room’s silence pressing in around him, but all he cares about, all he can focus on, is Jaehyun.

He’s never been this vulnerable before, never let his guard down like this. His entire life has been a series of carefully constructed walls, built to keep people out, to protect himself. Love has always been a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

But now, standing in front of Jaehyun, those walls are gone. Stripped bare, heart in his hands, Taesan waits. The seconds stretch out, feeling like hours, his pulse quickening with every moment that passes in silence. Has he said too much? Has he misread everything? The weight of what he’s just confessed hangs in the air, fragile and heavy all at once.

Jaehyun’s face is unreadable at first, his eyes wide, a mix of surprise and something deeper. Then, slowly, a soft smile begins to tug at the corners of his lips, his expression shifting into one of quiet understanding. There’s a warmth in his gaze now—steady, reassuring—as if he’s been waiting for this moment just as much as Taesan has.

Jaehyun steps forward, taking his hands into his, clasping them gently and rubbing soothing circles against his skin. He doesn’t say anything, not at first, savoring the moment. When his voice finally breaks the silence, it’s calm, steady, and full of quiet affection. “I’d take a thousand chances with you.”

This is it.

Taesan's chest aches, his throat tight, but not from fear anymore. It’s something else—something he’s kept buried for too long. Standing there, with Jaehyun’s words ringing in his ears, Taesan realizes he’s not afraid anymore. He’s not running, not holding back. For the first time in his life, he’s chosen love.

Jaehyun’s gaze holds his, unflinching and full of so much warmth that Taesan feels it spreading through him, filling all the places he thought were too broken to heal. It’s not just relief that Jaehyun has accepted him. It’s the realization that their love, this quiet, steady thing that’s grown between them, is stronger than any fear he’s ever known.

Taesan has always believed love was something that could tear you apart, something dangerous. But now, standing here with Jaehyun, he understands. This love, their love, is the kind that can save you. The kind that, even when you try to deny it, makes its way into your heart and changes you forever.

And Taesan, for the first time in his life, is ready to allow it.

“You know, I’m quite impressed. I never took you as the type to go for grand gestures.”

“...Shut up,” Taesan mumbles, burying his face in his sleeves.

“C’mon, don’t hide from me. What happened to being brave?”

Taesan groans out something incoherent, not budging.

“Hey, look at me? Pretty please?”

Taesan lifts his head. Jaehyun is a lot closer than he was before, leaning in and using his finger to lift the younger’s chin.

Taesan swallows, and his eyes flicker down to Jaehyun’s lips before meeting his own again. At this, Jaehyun smirks.

“You still thinking about kissing me, Taesan-ah?”

“Yah!” Taesan feels his face heat up, but he doesn’t move away.

“‘Cause a little birdy told me a bit ago that—Mmph!”

Taesan grabs Jaehyun by the collar and pulls him into a searing kiss, effectively shutting him up. Jaehyun’s surprise is quick to wear off, and he allows himself to melt into his touch. He smiles into the kiss and snakes his arms around his waist, tugging him close and making his head spin. Taesan gasps and loosens his grip on his shirt, looping his arms around his neck and chasing after his lips when he inches away.

Kissing Jaehyun is unlike anything he could have imagined, yet it comes as naturally to him as the oxygen that enters his lungs and flows through his veins. There aren’t any fireworks or confetti cannons, no chiming of bells or rounds of applause. It isn’t like any of the romance movies Taesan had grown up watching, but he finds that he doesn’t care—because it’s Jaehyun. Infuriating and imperfect and unapologetically himself.

“Does that answer your question?” Taesan asks when they finally pull away, lips glossy and kiss-bitten.

“I’m not sure,” Jaehyun smirks, leaning in once more. “I think I need to double check.”

He closes the gap between them, gentler this time.

Myung Jaehyun, all his and only his.

Taesan wouldn’t have it any other way.

Epilogue

Sungho has been in full "boyfriend mode" ever since Euijoo arrived, doting on him in a way that made Taesan amused and, if it were a little while ago, might’ve even made him envious. But things have changed.

Sungho is always full of energy, but in Euijoo’s presence, he seems to radiate a captivating glow, as if Euijoo is the brightest star in the galaxy and Sungho is irresistibly drawn into his orbit. Taesan couldn’t help but notice the subtle changes in Sungho: how he leaned in a little closer when Euijoo spoke, how his eyes seemed to sparkle whenever Euijoo laughed, and the way his signature ‘Euijoo Giggle’—the one he only ever had when his boyfriend was around—floated through the air. It’s honestly sweet to watch.

Now that Taesan has shifted his own perspective on love, he found himself attuned to the quiet beauty of it unfolding in others’ lives—how it paints the world in softer hues and softens its edges, like a melody that lingered in the heart long after it was heard, making even the simplest gestures between two people feel like a hidden rhythm of the universe he hadn’t noticed before.

When Taesan enters their apartment with Jaehyun in tow, Sungho is in the middle of one of his famously animated stories, his hands gesturing wildly, while Euijoo watches with an amused smile, used to the theatrics by now.

“Hey guys,” Taesan called out as they approached, his voice light.

Euijoo turned first, his face lighting up. “Taesan! It’s been forever,” he greeted, before his eyes slid to Jaehyun with curiosity. “And... you are?”

Taesan shot Jaehyun a coy smile. “Euijoo, this is Jaehyun,” he said with a casual nod. “My partner.”

Jaehyun smiled and gave a small wave. “Nice to meet you.”

Euijoo’s smile widened as he reached out to shake Jaehyun’s hand. “Nice to meet you too! Sungho’s talked about you, but I don’t think we’ve met.”

Before Taesan could explain further, Sungho jumped in with a teasing tone. “Yeah, they’re project partners,” he said.

Taesan exchanges a quick glance with Jaehyun, a mischievous grin already tugging at his lips. “Not exactly,” he said, the amusement in his voice clear.

Euijoo blinks, momentarily confused. “Oh?”

With a grin, Taesan wraps an arm around Jaehyun’s waist, tugging him closer. “We’re dating now.”

There is a brief pause as surprise registers on Euijoo’s face, then delight. “Wait, seriously? That’s amazing!”

Sungho, however, stands frozen, genuinely shocked. His wide eyes are all the confirmation Taesan needed that he hadn’t seen this coming. “Wait, what?” Sungho blinks a few times, looking between the two. “When did this happen?” He shakes his head, letting out a laugh of disbelief. “I thought I’d be waiting forever for you two to figure it out!”

Taesan lets out a chuckle, nudging Jaehyun lightly. “Yeah, well...”

Jaehyun, still grinning, decides to jump in. “You know what the crazy part is?” he says, looking at Sungho. “Taesan confessed during our presentation in class. Right in front of everyone.”

Euijoo’s eyes widen as he looks at Taesan, impressed. “No way, Taesan did that?”

Sungho looks equally floored. “What? I never thought I’d live to see the day!”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Man, I can’t believe I missed that. I would’ve paid money to see it.”

“You can, actually. It’s on TikTok,” Jaehyun chirps, snaking his arms around Taesan’s waist and propping his head on his shoulder. “We’re kind of a hot topic, y’know?”

Taesan rolls his eyes affectionately but doesn’t hide the grin creeping up on his face. “It just kind of... happened.”

Sungho points at Jaehyun with mock sternness. “Just make sure you take care of him this time, alright? No more public apology videos going viral on Tiktok, please.”

Jaehyun throws a playful salute. “I’ve got it covered. No more Tiktoks, I swear.”

His grip tightens and he gives Taesan a mischievous look.

“Besides, he couldn’t get rid of me even if he tried.”

He puckers his lips exaggeratingly and Taesan yelps, squirming in his hold. Jaehyun lets out a laugh that makes him feel like floating.

In the beginning, he thought Jaehyun was going to be another fleeting face in his life, another reason to keep his guard up. Here for a moment and gone in the next—how it usually goes for people like Taesan.

But now, wrapped in Jaehyun’s embrace and surrounded by the people he adores most, all his fears and hesitations are but a distant memory. Like a shadow disappearing with the rising sun, giving birth to a newer and brighter day.

It is a universal truth that time waits for no one. Years will pass and people will age. The earth will gain a second moon as the planets continue their rotation, spinning and shifting. Never-ending.

In a world full of change, there’s one thing Taesan is certain of: he knows love and love knows him.

And it’s all thanks to a boy he thought he hated.