Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

San sat in his usual corner, a secluded table by the far windows of the cafeteria, Yeosang across from him. While San meticulously arranged his tray—a bowl of rice, kimchi, and a neatly stacked pile of pickled radish—Yeosang scrolled through his phone, his head resting lazily on one hand.

“It’s like they’ve never seen each other before,” San muttered bitterly, stabbing a piece of radish with his chopsticks.

Yeosang glanced up briefly, following San’s sharp gaze to the group of students occupying two tables in the center of the cafeteria. Yunho and his friends, as always, were the loudest ones in the room. Mingi was doing some kind of over-the-top impersonation that had Wooyoung doubled over with high-pitched laughter, while Yunho himself clapped his hands like a seal, laughing so hard he leaned against Jongho for support. 

“They’re not that bad,” Yeosang said, returning his attention to his phone.

“Not that bad?” San raised an eyebrow. “They’re practically a circus.”

Yeosang chuckled softly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Maybe you’re just jealous of their energy.”

San snorted. “Jealous? Of Jeong Yunho and his pack of hyenas? Hardly.”

It wasn’t jealousy. San hated that word. It was more of an... irritation. Yunho was everything San wasn’t: loud, annoying, and effortlessly liked by everyone. Even the professors seemed to have a soft spot for him. Meanwhile, San preferred the quiet, the order of the lab, controlled environments where no one’s laughter echoed like a thunderclap.

“He’s looking this way,” Yeosang said suddenly, interrupting San’s thoughts.

“What?” San stiffened. His chopsticks paused mid-air. “Who?”

Yeosang tilted his head toward the center of the room. “Yunho. He’s waving.”

San turned his head just enough to confirm it. Yunho was indeed looking straight at him, a wide grin plastered on his face, one hand raised in a mock wave.

San’s stomach twisted in annoyance. He shot Yunho a glare before turning back to his food.

“Why is he like that?”

Yeosang shrugged, his lips twitching with suppressed amusement. “Maybe he likes you.”

San nearly choked on his rice. “Don’t even joke about that.”

Yeosang smirked but didn’t press further. He was used to San’s dramatic reactions by now.

As the conversation at their table died down, the noise from the “popular group” only seemed to grow louder. San tried to tune it out, focusing on his meal, but it was hard to ignore Mingi’s booming voice as he recounted some ridiculous story about a dog and a bee, complete with exaggerated gestures that sent Wooyoung into another fit of uncontrollable laughter.

“It’s exhausting,” San muttered, rubbing his temples.

“Then stop watching them,” Yeosang said, his tone light but pointed.

San rolled his eyes but stayed silent. He tore his gaze away from the center of the cafeteria, determined to focus on his food. He had no interest in them—not Yunho, not Mingi, and surely not any of the walking noise machines that followed Yunho like little ducks. And yet, his mind wandered, unbidden, back to high school.

Back then, San had been smaller, quieter, and far less noticeable—if that was even possible. The kind of kid who kept his head down, stayed out of trouble, and avoided drawing attention to himself. But that didn’t stop the taunts. It didn’t stop the laughter when he fumbled in gym class or the way his name seemed to always end up as the punchline to some joke he didn’t understand. Yunho hadn’t been the worst of them not by a long shot. He was never the one leading the insults or making San trip in the hallway. But he had been there, laughing along with the rest of them, too oblivious or too indifferent to notice how those moments lingered like shadows in San’s memory.

San pushed his tray aside, no longer hungry. It wasn’t just the past that irritated him; it was the way Yunho seemed to glide through life, untouched by the weight of his actions. He had everything San didn’t—confidence, popularity, an effortless ability to charm everyone around him. And now, years later, even in college, Yunho’s world was still loud and bright and full of people. It was suffocating.

The group in the center burst into another round of laughter, and San’s jaw clenched. He hated how easily their voices pulled him back, how the sound seemed to scrape against his nerves. He glanced out the window, trying to focus on the trees swaying in the breeze instead of the cacophony behind him.

High school had been a different life. San had been weaker then, both physically and mentally. But he’d grown since those days. He wasn’t the scrawny, awkward boy who struggled to lift the smallest weights in gym class. He wasn’t the target anymore.

Yet, sometimes, it felt like he still was.

“Yunho hasn’t changed,” San thought bitterly. “Same smile, same stupid laugh, same obliviousness.”

A part of him wondered if Yunho even remembered those times from high school. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe San had been so insignificant to him that those years had blended into a haze of faces and names Yunho couldn’t be bothered to keep straight.

But that didn’t matter. San remembered. And that was enough to keep the resentment burning, low and steady, in the back of his mind.

He took a glance at the wall clock. Around him, the cafeteria began to empty as some students drifted toward their classes. Yeosang stood, picking up his tray and tossing San a questioning glance.

“Coming?” he asked.

San hesitated, his eyes flicking once more to Yunho, who was now leaning back in his chair, still laughing at something. His voice, loud and carefree, carried across the room.

San looked away, grabbing his bag and standing. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Let’s go.”

San sat near the back of the lecture hall, his notebook open and a mechanical pencil twirling idly between his fingers. Yeosang was seated beside him, already engrossed in the professor’s slide presentation about marine ecosystems. He usually enjoyed this class. It was one of the few that focused heavily on field research, and though he preferred the quiet of the lab, there was something fascinating about the intricacies of aquatic life. However, his concentration was fractured today, thanks to the figure sitting a few rows ahead.

Yunho was at the center of attention, as always. Even during lectures, he seemed to command the room’s energy. He was sitting with Mingi, the two of them chatting softly, their laughter barely suppressed.

The professor’s voice cut through the low hum of the room. “All right, class, let’s see if anyone remembers: what is the main factor limiting productivity in tropical waters?”

San straightened slightly, his pencil poised over his notebook. He knew the answer, of course—it was second nature to him by now. But before he could even consider raising his hand, Yunho’s shot up from the front.

“It’s temperature, right?” Yunho said, his tone confident.

The professor tilted his head, his expression neutral. “Close, but not quite.”

San sighed. He should have let it go, but something about Yunho’s smugness irritated him to no end. Against his better judgment, he raised his hand.

“It’s nutrient availability,” San said flatly, his voice carrying through the room. “Tropical waters are warm, but they lack the upwelling of nutrients that you see in colder regions, which limits productivity.”

The professor smiled. “That’s absolutely correct, San-shi. Well done.”

San felt a small flicker of satisfaction—brief, fleeting, but satisfying nonetheless. That feeling, however, evaporated the moment Yunho turned in his seat to look at him.

“Well, excuse me, Choi San-nim,” Yunho said, flashing a grin that was both amused and teasing. His voice carried a mock seriousness that sent ripples of laughter through the class.

San’s jaw tightened, his fingers clenching around his pencil. The laughter wasn’t malicious—it was lighthearted, the kind of response Yunho always seemed to elicit—but it still grated on him.

Yunho turned back to face the front, but not before shooting San a wink. It wasn’t flirtatious—just playful, as if Yunho thought they were in on some shared joke. San scowled and looked down at his notebook, scribbling random shapes in the margins to calm the irritation bubbling in his chest.

“Smooth,” Yeosang muttered under his breath, leaning closer.

San didn’t reply. He didn’t need to. The smirk tugging at Yunho’s lips as he sat a few rows ahead was more than enough to make San’s blood boil.

“You were oddly quiet in class after that little exchange,” Yeosang said later that day, breaking the silence.

San, who walked with his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, his bag slung lazily over one shoulder, groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t start.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Yeosang said, his tone betraying a hint of mischief. “It’s just... funny, that’s all. You two are like oil and water.”

“Not funny,” San corrected, kicking a small stone on the sidewalk. “Annoying.”

Yeosang chuckled but didn’t press further. They walked in comfortable silence for a while, their steps echoing softly against the pavement. San’s mind wandered, grateful to finally have a moment where Yunho wasn’t the center of his thoughts.

“Have you finished the report for ecosystem dynamics?” San asked, changing the subject.

“Almost,” Yeosang replied. “I still need to add the graphs. You?”

“Done. It wasn’t that hard.”

Yeosang hummed in response, clearly impressed. “Overachiever.”

They rounded the corner leading to the dormitories, where groups of students were scattered around, some lounging on the grass, others tossing around a volleyball. The sound of laughter filled the air, mixing with the rhythmic thump of the ball being hit back and forth.

San barely had time to process the scene before something hard smacked into the side of his head. The impact wasn’t enough to hurt, but it startled him, sending his bag sliding off his shoulder.

“Seriously?” San muttered, rubbing his temple.

The culprit was obvious. Just a few feet away, Yunho stood among his group, a hand to his mouth as he laughed. Mingi, Wooyoung, and Jongho joined in, their voices a symphony of amusement. The volleyball responsible for the hit lay near San’s feet.

“Oh, man, sorry about that!” Yunho called out, still grinning. His tone was apologetic, but the laughter in his eyes softened the sincerity. He jogged forward, holding up his hands. “I didn’t mean to—can you pass it back?”

San bent down, picking up the ball with a scowl. His mind raced with options: toss it gently, ignore it, or... something else.

With a sharp exhale, he chose the latter. He hurled the ball with all his strength—not at Yunho, but in a direction that sent it bouncing far out of reach. The group’s laughter rose again, this time louder, as the ball rolled toward the opposite end of the lawn.

“Oops,” San said flatly, his expression unchanging.

Yunho stopped in his tracks, his grin widening as he placed his hands on his hips. “Nice arm, Choi San-nim,” he teased, shaking his head. “But that wasn’t very sportsmanlike.”

San rolled his eyes and adjusted his bag. “Maybe don’t use me as target practice next time,” he snapped, stepping past Yunho without waiting for a reply.

As San walked off, Yeosang fell into step beside him, his lips twitching with the effort to suppress a smile. “You could have just handed it to him.”

“I could have,” San muttered, “but then I’d have to hear him thank me.”

Yeosang shook his head but didn’t argue. Behind them, Yunho’s voice rang out again, shouting something about retrieving the ball, followed by another round of laughter from his friends. San didn’t look back.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬

The morning sun bathed the campus in a soft golden glow, the air warm with the promise of summer. Yunho strolled across the courtyard with his usual easy gait, his bag slung carelessly over one shoulder. A few students waved at him as he passed, and he returned their greetings with his signature grin.

As he approached the science building, his attention was caught by a familiar figure sitting alone on a bench near the entrance. Choi San. He was hunched over a book, his head tilted slightly as if to block out the world around him. The sight was... typical, yet somehow amusing.

Yunho paused, his grin softening into something more contemplative. His mind wandered back to yesterday, to the volleyball incident. He hadn’t expected San to hurl the ball like that—though to be fair, he probably should have. San had always been sharp, both in tongue and actions, quick to retaliate with a glare or a sarcastic remark.

Man, he really doesn’t like me, Yunho thought, scratching the back of his neck.

It wasn’t that Yunho held a grudge or anything. If anything, he found San’s attitude intriguing. The guy had been like this since high school—aloof, prickly, and seemingly immune to Yunho’s charm. That last part especially baffled Yunho. Most people warmed up to him eventually. But San? Not a chance.

“Yo, Yunho!” Mingi’s voice broke through his thoughts.

Yunho turned to see his best friend jogging up to him, followed by Wooyoung and Jongho. They were loud as ever, their laughter echoing across the courtyard.

“Hey, what’s up?” Yunho asked, shaking off his thoughts and falling into step with them.

“Not much,” Mingi said, tossing an arm around Yunho’s shoulders. “You were staring at San again.”

Yunho frowned. “I wasn’t staring.”

Wooyoung smirked. “Sure you weren’t. Did you enjoy getting the silent treatment after your little volleyball stunt?”

Yunho chuckled, shaking his head. “Come on, it was an accident. Besides, I apologized to him.”

“Yeah, while laughing,” Jongho pointed out, his tone dry. “Real convincing.”

Yunho grinned sheepishly. “Okay, maybe I could have been more serious, but he didn’t exactly make it easy. The guy acts like I ran over his dog or something.”

“Maybe he’s just like that,” Mingi offered with a shrug. “Some people hate everyone, you know? San might just be one of those people.”

“Not everyone,” Wooyoung interjected, nudging Jongho. “I hear he’s nice with Yeosang.”

“Yeah, well, he’s never been nice to me,” Yunho said, his tone light but thoughtful. “I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to him. Not on purpose, anyway.”

Mingi laughed. “Maybe that’s the problem. You didn’t do anything, and he hates that.”

Yunho rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips. It was true—he couldn’t think of a single reason why San disliked him so much. Sure, they hadn’t exactly been close in high school, but Yunho had never gone out of his way to make things difficult for him. If anything, he’d barely interacted with him back then.

“Whatever,” Yunho said finally, waving a hand as if to brush off the subject. “He’s just... complicated.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Wooyoung muttered, earning a snicker from Jongho.

As Yunho walked into the building, the warm chatter of his friends faded into the background. His thoughts drifted back to high school, unbidden but persistent, like they always did when it came to Choi San.

He hadn’t paid much attention to San back then—not until the teasing started. San had been a quiet, skinny kid who kept to himself, always sitting in the back of the classroom with his nose buried in a book or scribbling notes in the margins of his papers. He wasn’t the type to stand out, which unfortunately made him an easy target.

Yunho remembered the way some of their classmates would make comments about San’s appearance, his awkward movements in gym class, or the fact that he rarely spoke to anyone. They’d call him names, mock the way he stammered when called on by the teacher, or laugh when he dropped something in the hallway. At the time, Yunho had laughed too—not because he wanted to hurt San, but because it was easier than saying something. Back then, being part of the popular crowd meant going with the flow, not standing up against it. He’d never joined in on the teasing directly, but he’d been there, watching, and that was enough.

Now, years later, San was no longer the timid boy who’d once flinched at every loud noise or sudden movement. He carried himself differently—straight-backed, confident, with an edge that Yunho couldn’t quite define. San had changed.

But that change hadn’t come without a price.

Where San had once been shy but approachable, he now seemed guarded, his walls built high and unyielding. He didn’t flinch anymore; he glared. He didn’t stumble over his words; he shot them like arrows, sharp and precise. And while Yunho admired that strength on some level, it also made San feel... unreachable.

Guess it makes sense, Yunho thought, his steps slowing as they neared the lecture hall. After everything he went through, I’d probably be like that too.

There was a pang of something—regret, maybe—lodged in his chest as he thought about it. He wondered if San ever looked back on those years with anything other than bitterness. Did he remember Yunho as one of the faces in the crowd? One of the bystanders who did nothing?

Yunho shook his head, as if trying to dislodge the thought. It wasn’t like he’d been a bully. He hadn’t called San names or pushed him around. He’d never gone out of his way to make San’s life harder. If anything, Yunho had barely known him back then. That had to count for something, right?

Still... Yunho frowned. I can’t blame him for holding a grudge. Not really.

San’s transformation was undeniable. He was stronger now, both physically and mentally, but there was a coldness to him that Yunho couldn’t ignore. A bitterness that seemed to have settled in his bones and refused to leave. Yunho didn’t like to admit it, but sometimes he felt bad for San. He wondered if anyone else noticed how lonely he seemed, or if they were all too distracted by his sharp tongue and cutting glares to see past them.

Not that it’s any of my business, Yunho thought with a shrug, forcing a smile as he caught up to his friends. He’s doing fine. Better than fine, probably. If he hates me, that’s on him. I didn’t do anything.

But even as the thought passed through his mind, a small voice whispered at the back of his conscience: You didn’t do anything back then either.

Later that afternoon, the courtyard buzzed with activity. Students lounged on the grass or gathered around tables, their voices blending with the sound of birds chirping in the trees. Yunho and his friends occupied their usual spot, a shaded bench near the fountain where the group could stretch out and watch the world go by.

Mingi was mid-story, gesturing wildly as he described an awkward encounter with a professor earlier that day. Wooyoung and Jongho laughed loudly, while Yunho leaned back on the bench, a relaxed grin on his face.

He spotted her before she spoke. Kim Minjeong was hard to miss, her sleek blonde ponytail bouncing as she walked with purpose, a confident smile playing on her shiny lips. She wasn’t in any of his classes, but she had a knack for finding him between them. Yunho appreciated her persistence—up to a point.

“Yunho!” she called, her voice bright as she waved.

The group’s laughter died down as Minjeong approached, and Yunho straightened slightly, already preparing for what was to come.

“Minjeong,” he greeted warmly, his tone polite. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” she said, stopping in front of him with a playful smile. “I was hoping I’d run into you. Have you thought about what I said last week?”

Yunho blinked, his smile faltering just a fraction. He didn’t need to ask what she was referring to. Minjeong had been clear—painfully clear—about her interest in him. And while Yunho admired her confidence, he’d already made his feelings known.

“Uh, yeah,” he said carefully, glancing at his friends, who were barely containing their smirks. “Minjeong, you know you’re great, but—”

“—but he’s too busy with his best friends right now,” Wooyoung interrupted, his voice dripping with mock drama. “isn't it, Yunho?”

Jongho snorted, and Mingi leaned in, whispering loudly, “You should just date her already. She’s clearly dedicated.”

Yunho shot them a warning look, his cheeks warming. “Guys, not helping.”

Minjeong laughed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “It’s okay. I can handle your friends,” she said, her eyes sparkling as she looked back at Yunho. “I just think you should give it a chance. We’d be great together.”

“Minjeong...” Yunho started, his tone gentle but firm. “You’re amazing, really, but I—”

His words were interrupted by a familiar figure passing nearby. San, with his usual focused expression, was walking across the courtyard, earphones on and a textbook clutched in one hand and his bag slung over his shoulder. He didn’t stop or even glance in their direction, but Yunho caught the subtle tightening of his jaw as he walked by.

For a moment, Yunho considered calling out to him—maybe to defuse the awkwardness of the situation—but San was already disappearing into the distance, heading toward the dormitories.

“Your favorite person just passed by,” Mingi teased, nudging Yunho.

Yunho rolled his eyes. “Let it go, Mingi.”

“What’s this about?” Minjeong asked curiously, looking between them.

“Nothing,” Yunho said quickly, shifting the focus back to her. “Look, Minjeong, I appreciate you coming to talk, but I’m just... not looking for anything right now. You understand, right?”

Her smile faltered for a split second before she regained her composure. “Of course,” she said lightly. “But don’t think I’m giving up. You’ll come around.”

With that, she waved and turned to leave, her confidence intact. Yunho sighed, slumping back against the bench as his friends immediately burst into laughter.

“You’ve got a fan club,” Wooyoung teased.

“Yeah, and you should see how much he loves it,” Mingi added, grinning.

Yunho groaned, rubbing his temples. “Why do I hang out with you guys again?”

“Because we keep life interesting,” Jongho said, smirking.

Yunho laughed despite himself, but his thoughts drifted briefly to San. He couldn’t help but wonder if the guy ever lightened up, or if that permanent scowl was just part of who he was now.

The lecture hall was filled with the faint hum of conversation as students filed in, the sound of shuffling papers and bags being unzipped echoing softly. Yunho took his usual seat near the middle of the room, Mingi dropping into the seat beside him.

Professor Kim Yonghwan stood at the front of the class, fiddling with the projector as the screen flickered to life. He cleared his throat, signaling for the room to settle. The noise quieted gradually as students turned their attention to him.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Professor Kim began, adjusting his glasses. “Before we dive into today’s topic, I want to mention something that you should all start considering.”

Yunho sat up a little straighter, intrigued. Beside him, Mingi raised an eyebrow, clearly curious as well.

“As many of you may know, the biology department organizes a summer camp during the summer vacation period every other year,” Professor Kim continued. “It’s not mandatory, but it offers valuable extracurricular credit and an opportunity to gain hands-on experience in the field. Students from all years and classes in the department are invited to attend.”

Yunho felt a spark of excitement at the words hands-on experience. He nudged Mingi, who smirked knowingly.

“This year’s camp will focus on field research and practical applications of what we’ve been studying,” the professor went on. “We’ll provide more details as summer approaches, but for now, I encourage you to think about whether you’d like to participate. It’s a great opportunity to collaborate with your peers and apply your knowledge outside the classroom.”

Yunho was already sold. He loved the outdoors—camping, hiking, diving. The idea of spending a few weeks immersed in nature, studying organisms up close, sounded like a dream come true. He could almost feel the sun on his skin and the thrill of discovering something new.

“This is going to be amazing,” Yunho whispered to Mingi, barely able to contain his grin.

Mingi chuckled. “You’re already planning your packing list, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am,” Yunho said, grinning. “Come on, you know this is my thing.”

From the corner of his eye, Yunho noticed a figure sitting closer to the back of the room. San. He was scribbling something in his notebook, his expression as unreadable as ever. Yunho wondered briefly if San would go to the camp. It was hard to imagine him out in the wild, away from his books and lab equipment.

“You think everyone’s going to go?” Yunho asked Mingi.

Mingi shrugged. “Probably not everyone. I mean, some people hate camping, and others probably just don’t care about the credit.”

Yunho tilted his head thoughtfully. “You’re going, though, right?”

“Obviously,” Mingi replied, grinning. “You’d never let me live it down if I didn’t.”

Yunho laughed quietly, his excitement bubbling over as Professor Kim transitioned into the lecture. The camp was still weeks away, but Yunho’s mind was already racing with possibilities.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ

The lecture dragged on, the professor’s voice droning in the background as San focused on the notes in front of him. His handwriting was neat, almost methodical, as he transcribed key points from the presentation. That was one thing he liked about classes—there was a structure to them, a predictability that let him feel in control.

But when Professor Kim mentioned the camp, the structure shattered.

San frowned, his pencil pausing mid-sentence. Summer camp? He barely managed to suppress a groan. The idea of spending days—weeks, maybe—out in the wild, surrounded by noisy classmates and relentless sunlight, sounded like a nightmare. He hated camping. The dirt, the bugs, the lack of proper facilities—it was the exact opposite of the quiet lab work he preferred.

He glanced at Yeosang, who looked equally disinterested. That was one of the many reasons San appreciated Yeosang; they were usually on the same wavelength when it came to things like this.

As the professor moved on, San’s thoughts lingered on the camp. It wasn’t mandatory, which was a relief, but there would definitely be pressure to attend. The department loved to frame it as an “unmissable opportunity,” and San could already imagine the questions from classmates: “Are you going? Why not? It’s going to be so fun!”

Fun. San nearly rolled his eyes at the thought.

Later, in the cafeteria, San sat across from Yeosang at their usual corner table. The room was bustling with students, the air filled with chatter and the clatter of trays. San picked at his food absentmindedly, still mulling over the camp announcement.

“I don’t see the point,” he muttered, breaking the silence. “It’s just glorified camping. We can learn everything we need in the lab.”

Yeosang hummed noncommittally, focused on his sandwich. “You don’t have to go.”

San nodded, though he knew it wouldn’t be that simple. The camp wasn’t mandatory, sure, but skipping it might still raise eyebrows. Professors loved to reward participation in these kinds of activities.

Before the conversation could go any further, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Hey, you two!”

San’s gaze snapped up to see Park Seonghwa approaching, his tray balanced effortlessly in one hand. He was all smiles, his usual calm yet charismatic demeanor lighting up the room as he slid into the seat next to Yeosang.

“Hyung,” Yeosang greeted, his tone warm.

“Hey,” San added, his voice softer than usual, as he felt his heart race.

Seonghwa set his tray down and leaned forward slightly, his enthusiasm evident. “So, did you hear about the camp? Are you guys thinking of going this year?”

San’s heart skipped a beat—just a small one. Seonghwa’s excitement was contagious, and though San had no real desire to attend, he didn’t want to be dismissive. Not with Seonghwa.

“I don’t know,” San said carefully, shrugging. “Camping’s not really my thing.”

“Come on, Sannie,” Seonghwa said, his smile widening. “It’s more than just camping. It’s a chance to work with everyone, explore new places, and actually see some of the things we’ve been studying up close. It’s fun if you let it be.”

Yeosang chuckled. “You’ve been trying to convince us to go for years, hyung.”

“Because it’s worth it!” Seonghwa said earnestly. “This is my last year—I want you guys to come at least once. You’ll enjoy it, I promise.”

San’s resolve wavered slightly under Seonghwa’s gaze. He knew Seonghwa wasn’t trying to pressure him, but the thought of disappointing him stung. “I’ll think about it,” he said, his tone noncommittal.

Seonghwa beamed. “That’s all I ask.”

They chatted for a while longer, mostly about upcoming projects and classes. San found himself more at ease than usual, his usual sharp edges softened in Seonghwa’s presence. When Seonghwa finally left to join another group of friends, San leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

“You’re going, aren’t you?” Yeosang asked, smirking.

San shot him a glare. “I said I’d think about it.”

“Sure you did.”

San stared absently at his tray, his thoughts swirling. It wasn’t unusual for Seonghwa to stop by their table; he’d always been like that—warm, approachable, and unshakably kind to him, and everybody. But every time they spoke, San found himself caught between gratitude and frustration.

Gratitude, because Seonghwa had been one of the few people in high school who’d shown him any type of kindness. While others ignored him—or worse, mocked him—Seonghwa had never joined in. He’d say hello in the hallways, ask how San was doing, and sometimes even sit with him during lunchtime when no one else would. It was such a simple thing, but to San, it had meant the world. In a place that felt so hostile, Seonghwa had been a small beacon of light.

But there was frustration too, because Seonghwa was... Seonghwa. Effortlessly kind, impossibly charismatic, and seemingly perfect. It was hard not to feel the gap between them, even now. San hated how aware he was of it—how aware he was of Seonghwa.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his thoughts drifting back to high school. He remembered how Seonghwa, despite being a year older, never acted superior. Even when San had been at his lowest—skinny, awkward, and the butt of everyone’s jokes—Seonghwa had treated him like a person, not a punchline. It was one of the few good memories San had from that time, and it lingered in his mind like a bittersweet echo.

San glanced at Yeosang, who was scrolling through his phone, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing in San’s head. That was one of the things he appreciated about Yeosang—he never pried, never pushed for answers San wasn’t ready to give.

The truth was, Seonghwa had become a constant in San’s life, even if they weren’t super close. They saw each other regularly in the cafeteria or around campus, and Seonghwa always stopped to chat. It was casual, friendly, and yet it left San feeling unbalanced every time. Like there was an invisible weight pressing on his chest, something unspoken that he couldn’t quite name—or didn’t want to.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. The camp. It wasn’t something he wanted to do, but the thought of disappointing Seonghwa gnawed at him. He’d said he’d think about it, and he meant it, but the idea of spending weeks in the middle of nowhere with so many people was... daunting. Even if Seonghwa was there.

Especially if Seonghwa was there.

San shook his head, forcing himself to focus on his tray. He didn’t have to decide now. There was still time. For now, he’d just get through the rest of the day. He could think about the camp—and about Seonghwa—later.

The quiet hum of equipment filled the lab as San adjusted the focus on his microscope. The slide beneath the lens displayed a vibrant sample of phytoplankton, its intricate details magnified into an abstract tapestry of shapes and colors. This was where he felt most at ease—surrounded by instruments, the cold environment of the lab offering a reprieve from the chaos of the outside world.

“Still here, huh?”

San glanced up to see Kim Hongjoong entering the lab, a notebook tucked under his arm and a faint smile on his face. He was dressed as usual—neatly pressed shirt, rolled-up sleeves, and a pair of glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. A fun contrast with his disheveled brown hair pointing in every direction. Hongjoong had the kind of presence that made people listen, not because he demanded attention, but because he carried himself with quiet authority.

“I could say the same about you,” San replied, sitting back from the microscope. “What’s that, your third notebook this month, sunbaenim?”

Hongjoong chuckled, setting the notebook down on the counter. “Fourth, actually. But who’s counting?”

San smirked, leaning back in his chair as Hongjoong settled into the seat across from him. The older student had always been a bit of an enigma—nerdy, yes, but also oddly charismatic in his own way. San respected him, even if he occasionally found his enthusiasm exhausting.

“So,” Hongjoong began, pulling on a pair of gloves. “I assume you’ve heard about the summer camp?”

San groaned softly, resting his elbows on the counter. “Why is everyone so obsessed with that?”

“Because it’s important,” Hongjoong said, his tone half-teasing. “Have you decided if you’re going?”

“Not really,” San admitted. “Camping isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.”

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “You think it’s just camping?”

“Isn’t it?” San shot back, crossing his arms. “Sleeping in tents, eating terrible food, dealing with people you barely know. Sounds like torture.”

Hongjoong laughed, shaking his head. “Okay, you’re not entirely wrong. But it’s more than that. It’s a chance to get out into the field, to actually see and study things in their natural environment. You learn a lot, and it’s... different. In a good way.”

San gave him a skeptical look. “You’ve been?”

“Of course,” Hongjoong said, leaning forward slightly. “It’s not as bad as you think. Sure, it’s not as controlled and clean as the lab, but that’s the point. You have to adapt, think on your feet. It’s challenging but also rewarding.”

San frowned, turning the idea over in his mind. Hongjoong made it sound... bearable. Almost interesting. But the thought of being surrounded by so many people, of dealing with the unpredictability of the outdoors, still made his stomach twist.

“Besides,” Hongjoong added, smirking, “you could use the fresh air. Get out of your comfort zone for once.”

San rolled his eyes. “I’m comfortable here, thanks.”

“Comfortable isn’t always good,” Hongjoong said lightly, returning his attention to his notebook. “Just think about it. You might surprise yourself.”

San didn’t respond, instead focusing back on his microscope. He knew Hongjoong meant well, and he appreciated the advice, but he wasn’t convinced. The camp still sounded like more trouble than it was worth.

Still, as he adjusted the focus and the tiny details of the sample sharpened before him, a small part of him wondered if there might be something to gain from stepping outside his carefully constructed bubble. Just maybe.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ

The lecture hall was already filling up when Yunho and Mingi arrived, their usual chatter mixing with the buzz of conversations around them. Yunho tossed his bag onto the desk, stretching his arms as he sat down. Mingi plopped into the seat beside him, a coffee in hand and a yawn stretching across his face.

“Late night?” Yunho teased.

“Long night,” Mingi corrected, rubbing his eyes. “Wooyoung wouldn’t stop texting me about his brilliant idea to start going to the gym.”

Yunho laughed. “Sounds about right. How’d that go?”

“Ask him yourself,” Mingi said, nodding toward the entrance.

Sure enough, Wooyoung came bouncing into the room, Yeonjun trailing behind him. Wooyoung’s expression was one of barely-contained excitement, the kind that usually spelled trouble—or at least something ridiculous.

“You guys are not gonna believe this,” Wooyoung declared, dropping his bag onto the desk with dramatic flair. He leaned in, his eyes wide with anticipation. “Guess who I ran into at the gym this morning?”

Yunho raised an eyebrow, sharing a glance with Mingi. “I’m gonna guess... someone from biology,” Yunho said, smirking.

Wooyoung frowned. “Well, yeah, but come on, guess!”

“Just tell us, man,” Mingi said, too tired for the guessing game.

Wooyoung leaned in closer, lowering his voice like he was about to share some earth-shattering secret. “Choi San.”

Yunho blinked, then shrugged. “Okay.” He said prolonging the "a" with slight confusion. 

Wooyoung’s face fell slightly. “Wait, that’s it? You’re not surprised?”

“Not really,” Yunho said, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve known him since high school. You can tell he’s been working out for years. Can't you tell?”

Wooyoung tilted his head, clearly confused. “Uh- no? He always wears those baggy hoodies. I just figured he was, you know... scrawny.”

Mingi snorted. “Nah, he’s been putting in the work. You can tell if you look close enough.”

“Well, I’m looking now,” Wooyoung said with a smirk, crossing his arms. “And I still can’t believe it. He was squatting like—” He gestured wildly, mimicking the motion. “—a lot of weight. Didn’t even flinch.”

Yunho chuckled, shaking his head. “San’s full of surprises.”

“Apparently,” Wooyoung muttered. Then he perked up, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “You think he’s trying to impress someone?”

Mingi rolled his eyes. “Or maybe he just likes working out, Woo. Not everything’s about romance.”

“Still,” Wooyoung said, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful expression. “Now I’m curious. Why keep it under wraps?”

Yunho shrugged. “Why does San do anything? He’s always been a mystery.”

It wasn’t entirely true, of course. Yunho knew more about San than he let on, their shared history from high school giving him glimpses into the kind of person San had been before. Quiet, shy, and often overlooked—San had been a far cry from the sharp, unyielding figure he was now.

Yunho couldn’t help but feel a flicker of respect for him. Changing like that took effort, especially after everything San had endured. But, as always, Yunho kept those thoughts to himself, masking them with a casual grin.

“Anyway,” Wooyoung said, snapping Yunho out of his thoughts. “Now that I know he’s a gym rat, I might have to make it a regular thing.”

“You? Regular at the gym?” Mingi teased, smirking. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Watch me,” Wooyoung shot back, puffing out his chest. “I’ll be benching more than San in no time.”

Yunho laughed, shaking his head as the professor entered the room, calling the class to order. As the lecture went on, he couldn’t help but glance toward the back of the room, where San sat scribbling in his notebook, as focused and unapproachable as ever.

Professor Kim clapped his hands together, signaling the class to settle down.

“Before we wrap up,” he began, his voice carrying over the murmur of the room, “I want to introduce a small assignment related to the summer camp. Whether or not you plan to attend, this will be an opportunity to think critically about field research.”

A groan rippled through the class, accompanied by the sound of notebooks closing prematurely. Yunho exchanged a look with Mingi, who rolled his eyes but smiled.

“You’ll be working in groups,” the professor continued. “I’ve already assigned them, so no need to argue about it.”

Another groan. Yunho chuckled under his breath. Group assignments were always met with mixed feelings, and he couldn’t blame anyone for being apprehensive. Still, he found himself curious about his group.

Professor Kim began reading names aloud. Yunho only half-listened until his own name came up.

“Jeong Yunho, Jung Wooyoung, Choi San, Kang Yeosang.”

Yunho blinked. His gaze immediately darted to the back of the room, where San was seated, his expression morphed into a light scowl but silent. Beside him, Yeosang looked unsurprised, as if this were just another ordinary task. Wooyoung, on the other hand, groaned loudly.

“Seriously?” Wooyoung muttered, slumping in his seat. “We’re stuck with Choi San-nim?”

“Keep your voice down,” Yunho whispered, elbowing him lightly. “It’s not that bad.”

“It’s going to be... interesting,” Mingi added with a smirk, clearly enjoying the show.

A few minutes later, the groups were huddled together, discussing the assignment. Yunho found himself seated across from San, with Wooyoung and Yeosang filling out the rest of the table. The tension was palpable, at least on Wooyoung’s end.

“So,” Wooyoung began, leaning back in his chair. “Any ideas for this brilliant project we’re supposed to come up with?”

San didn’t look up from his notebook. “We should focus on something practical. Something feasible given the constraints of the camp.”

“Great,” Wooyoung said dryly. “That narrows it down to everything.”

Yunho shot him a look. “Wooyoung.”

“What? I’m just saying,” Wooyoung replied, shrugging. Then his gaze shifted to San, his tone turning almost... curious. “You work out every morning, huh?”

San’s pen stilled for a fraction of a second before he resumed writing. “What does that have to do with the project?”

“Nothing,” Wooyoung said, grinning. “Just thought it was interesting. You don’t exactly give off ‘gym rat’ vibes.”

San didn’t respond, his expression remaining impassive. Yeosang, clearly accustomed to the dynamic, sighed and adjusted his glasses.

“Can we focus, please?” Yeosang interjected. “We don’t have all day.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wooyoung said, waving a hand. But he continued sneaking glances at San, his curiosity evidently piqued.

Yunho frowned slightly, not in irritation but confusion. Wooyoung rarely paid much attention to anyone outside their group, let alone someone as distant as San. It was... odd, but Yunho dismissed it quickly. Wooyoung was unpredictable, and his interest would probably fade by the next day.

“All right,” Yunho said, clapping his hands together. “How about we brainstorm some ideas? Field research topics, potential data we can collect—anything that could work for the camp.”

San finally looked up, his gaze sharp but focused. “We could study interspecies interactions in aquatic environments. It’s relevant to what we’ve been learning and feasible in a field setting.”

Yunho nodded, impressed despite himself. “That’s a solid idea. Thoughts?”

Yeosang nodded in agreement, and even Wooyoung seemed reluctantly on board. As the group began to discuss the logistics of San’s suggestion, Yunho found himself watching him more closely. For all his aloofness, San was undeniably competent. And, as much as Yunho hated to admit it, he was a natural leader when it came to topics like this.

Maybe this project wouldn’t be so bad after all.

The cafeteria was as lively as ever, a constant hum of voices and clattering trays filling the space. Yunho sat at his usual table near the center, surrounded by his friends. Their conversation was light, occasionally punctuated by bursts of laughter, but Yunho’s attention was elsewhere.

Across the room, in a quieter corner by the windows, San was seated with Yeosang and Seonghwa. Yunho recognized the three of them as something of a regular trio—San and Yeosang often stuck together, and Seonghwa, being in his last year, joined them whenever he could.

Yunho leaned back in his chair, pretending to listen to Wooyoung’s latest exaggerated story as his gaze drifted toward San’s table. He wasn’t staring—not exactly. It was more like... observing. Watching the way San leaned slightly toward Yeosang, speaking in a low voice, his expression relaxed in a way Yunho rarely saw. It was strange, almost jarring, to see this side of San. Around Yeosang and Seonghwa, he seemed... softer. His usual sharp edges were dulled, replaced by a calm demeanor that felt entirely at odds with the icy persona he presented to the rest of the world.

He’s like two different people, Yunho thought, absently stirring his drink with a straw. With them, he’s approachable, even friendly. With everyone else...

Yunho frowned slightly, his thoughts trailing off. San’s interactions with his group were a perfect example. Every word out of his mouth seemed to carry an edge, every glance a challenge. He didn’t go out of his way to be hostile, but there was a wall there—one Yunho doubted anyone in their group could break through.

“What’s with that face?” Mingi’s voice cut into his thoughts.

Yunho blinked, realizing he’d been scowling at his drink. He looked up to find Mingi and Wooyoung watching him, their expressions curious.

“Nothing,” Yunho said quickly, shaking his head. “Just thinking.”

“Dangerous territory for you,” Wooyoung teased, smirking. “What’s on your mind?”

“San,” Yunho replied before he could stop himself.

The table fell silent for a beat, then Mingi raised an eyebrow. “Why are you thinking about him?”

“I’m not,” Yunho said defensively. “It’s just... weird, isn’t it? How different he is with Yeosang and Seonghwa compared to, well, everyone else.”

Mingi shrugged. “Makes sense. Those are his people. You’re not.”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung added, leaning forward with a grin. “Maybe he just hates us.”

Yunho rolled his eyes, but a small part of him wondered if Wooyoung was right. San’s coldness toward their group wasn’t new, but now, watching him laugh softly at something Yeosang said, Yunho felt that divide more keenly than ever.

“What’s so bad about us?” Yunho muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

“Maybe he thinks we’re too loud,” Jongho offered, deadpan.

Wooyoung snorted. “That’s not a maybe.”

The group laughed, and Yunho joined in, though his mind lingered on San’s table. As much as he hated to admit it, he couldn’t shake the curiosity gnawing at the back of his mind. What would it take to see that softer side of San—the one he reserved for Yeosang and Seonghwa?

For now, though, he pushed the thought aside and focused on the conversation at his own table. San could stay a mystery. Yunho wasn’t sure he wanted to solve it just yet.

Chapter Text

The cafeteria was lively as usual, San sat in his usual spot near the far wall with Yeosang, poking at his food without much enthusiasm. Across from him, Seonghwa was chatting animatedly, his eyes bright with excitement.

“I’m so glad the camp is happening this year,” Seonghwa said, leaning forward slightly. “I heard the location for this year will be in the mountains, it’s going to be amazing.”

San hummed in response, more focused on cutting his chicken into perfect squares than on the conversation. The camp was the last thing he wanted to think about, especially after the professor’s announcement in class and the group's project for it. But Seonghwa’s enthusiasm was infectious, even if it didn’t reach San.

“What’s got you so excited about it this time, hyung?” Yeosang asked, glancing up from his tuna sandwich.

Seonghwa smiled, a small blush coloring his cheeks, his eyes sparkling. “Well, it’s the first trip I’ll take with my boyfriend.”

San froze, his fork pausing mid-air. “Boyfriend?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Seonghwa nodded, his smile widening. “Yeah, we haven’t been dating for long, but things are going really well.”

San’s chest tightened, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside him—surprise, confusion, and something uncomfortably close to disappointment. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t even considered the possibility that Seonghwa might be seeing someone. And the way Seonghwa talked about them, so casually yet fondly, made it worse.

“I didn’t know you were dating anyone, hyung,” Yeosang said, his tone neutral but curious. “How long has it been going on?”

“Just a few months,” Seonghwa replied. “We wanted to keep it low-key for a while, but... well, it feels good to talk about it now, especially with you guys.”

San forced himself to focus on his plate again, his mind racing. He couldn’t let this bother him—not here, not now. He could hear them talk about their love life in the background but San's mind was elsewhere, suddenly disconnected. Before he could come up with anything to say, the conversation took an unexpected turn.

“What about you, Sannie?” Seonghwa asked, his voice light. “Are you seeing anyone?”

San’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

Seonghwa laughed softly. “You’ve got to have someone in your life, right? Someone who can handle all your sarcasm?”

Yeosang laughed softly, glancing at San with a knowing look. The bastard. 

San’s mouth went dry. His first instinct was to laugh it off as well, to make some cutting remarks and change the subject. But Seonghwa was looking at him expectantly, and the words that came out of his mouth were anything but planned.

“I—yeah,” San said, his voice coming out awkwardly. “I’m, uh, seeing someone.”

The table went silent for a moment. Seonghwa looked delighted, while Yeosang’s eyes widened in barely concealed surprise and disbelief.

“Really?” Seonghwa asked, leaning forward with genuine interest. “That’s great, Sannie! I didn’t know.”

“Yeah,” San said again, his hand tightening around his knife. “It’s, uh, pretty new. Nothing serious yet. We're just knowing each other.”

Yeosang didn’t say a word, but San could feel his gaze burning into the side of his face. He knew Yeosang wasn’t buying it—San never mentioned dating anyone, let alone having feelings for someone other than... No. He wasn’t going to think about that.

“That’s amazing,” Seonghwa said, his smile warm. “We’ll have to talk more about this later. It’s great to see you so happy.”

San nodded stiffly, managing a small, forced smile in return. The rest of the conversation blurred into the background as he focused on finishing his food, desperate to escape the growing tension in his chest.

The walk back to the dormitories was quiet, save for the occasional chirping of birds and the faint hum of students chatting in the distance. San kept his hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the path ahead as he tried to suppress the swirling thoughts in his head.

San could feel the weight of Yeosang’s gaze on him, waiting for the inevitable question.

“So,” Yeosang said finally, breaking the silence. His tone was light but carried an unmistakable edge of curiosity and something that sounded close to disappointment. “What was that back there?”

San didn’t respond right away, his pace slowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

Yeosang gave him a pointed look. “You know exactly what I mean. Since when do you have a "partner"?”

San winced internally. Of course, Yeosang had seen right through him—Yeosang always saw through him. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as they rounded a corner.

“I don’t,” San admitted with a deep sigh. “It was... I don’t know. I panicked.”

Yeosang stopped walking, forcing San to do the same. He crossed his arms, his expression a mixture of concern and exasperation. “Why? What could possibly make you panic enough to lie about something as absurd as that?”

San hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground. “Seonghwa.”

Yeosang’s expression softened slightly, but his confusion remained. “What about Seonghwa?”

San shifted uncomfortably, kicking at a loose pebble on the ground. “He just... he said he has a boyfriend. I wasn’t expecting that, and it caught me off guard. I didn’t know what to say.”

“So you made up a fake relationship?” Yeosang asked, raising an eyebrow. “You could have just said the truth, you know.”

“I know,” San muttered, his shoulders slumping. “But it was the first thing that came to my mind. I didn’t want to look... I don’t know, pathetic or something.”

Yeosang sighed, his arms dropping to his sides. “San, no one’s going to think you’re pathetic just because you’re single. Especially not Seonghwa-hyung.”

San didn’t respond, his thoughts too tangled to form a coherent argument. He knew Yeosang was right—logically, he knew that. But at the moment, with Seonghwa looking at him like that, expecting an answer, his feelings betrayed him and made him cowardly lie.

Yeosang softened further, his voice gentler now. “I get it, okay? I get why you panicked. Your feelings for him and everything. But lying about something like this? It’s just going to make things more complicated.”

San sighed, leaning against a nearby lamppost. “I know. It was stupid.”

“Yeah,” Yeosang agreed, though there was no malice in his tone. “It was. But I get it.”

San glanced at him, surprised by the understanding in his voice. Yeosang had always been good at reading him, but it still caught him off guard how easily he could cut through San’s defenses.

“What am I supposed to do now?” San asked quietly.

Yeosang shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe tell the truth. You know Seonghwa is not going to judge you for something dumb like that.”

San groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I'm a big idiot.”

Yeosang chuckled softly, patting San’s shoulder. “Yeah, you're an idiot, but you didn't do it on purpose, so it's okay. He will understand, Sannie."

San lowered his hands, giving Yeosang a small, grateful smile. As much as he hated to admit it, Yeosang’s calm presence made the situation feel just a little less overwhelming.

For now, though, he had no idea how he put himself into this mess—or how to face Seonghwa again without feeling like shit for lying to him. 

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬

Yunho strolled toward the library, a worn textbook tucked under his arm. He usually didn’t mind running errands like this—walking alone gave him time to clear his head—but today was proving to be an exception.

“Yunho, wait up!” Minjeong’s voice rang loud from behind him, bright and insistent.

Yunho sighed under his breath, his steps slowing. He turned to see her jogging to catch up, her ponytail bouncing with each step. She was smiling, as always, her expression radiating confidence. Yunho forced a polite grin, already bracing himself for whatever was coming next.

“Hey, Minjeong,” he said, his tone light but noncommittal. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing much,” she said casually, falling into step beside him. “I just thought we could walk together. You always seem so busy lately.”

Yunho bit back the urge to groan. Busy avoiding you, he thought but didn’t say aloud. Minjeong wasn’t a bad person—far from it. She was smart, charming, and undeniably attractive. But Yunho just... didn’t feel that way about her. No matter how many times he’d tried to make that clear, she always seemed to take it as a challenge rather than a rejection.

“I’m just heading to the library,” he said gesturing to the book under his arm, hoping his tone would discourage further conversation.

“That’s perfect!” she said brightly. “I was thinking of stopping by there too. You know, I could use some help with—”

“Minjeong,” Yunho interrupted gently, turning to face her. “I’ve told you before, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“What isn’t?” she asked, feigning innocence, though the slight tilt of her head betrayed her determination.

“This,” Yunho said, gesturing vaguely between them. “You’re a great person, really, but I’m not interested.”

Her smile faltered for a split second before returning, a little more forced this time. “You don’t mean that. I know you’re just prioritizing your studies right now. I don’t mind waiting until you’re ready.”

Yunho felt a pang of frustration. He hated this—hated feeling like the bad guy when all he wanted was to be left alone. Minjeong’s persistence wasn’t flattering; it was exhausting. And now, with no friends around to help deflect her attention, he was stuck.

As they rounded a corner, Yunho’s eyes caught a familiar figure sitting on a bench near the library entrance. San. He was alone, his usual hoodie abandoned in favor of a baggy black t-shirt and jeans. He looked as unapproachable as ever, scrolling through his phone with an expression of quiet indifference.

And then, an idea sparked in Yunho’s mind—a terrible, stupid idea, but one that might save him from this endless conversation once and for all.

“Actually,” Yunho said suddenly, cutting Minjeong off mid-sentence. He nodded toward the bench. “I was just meeting someone.”

Minjeong frowned, following his gaze. “Oh?”

Yunho straightened, his grin widening as he started walking toward San. “Yeah. My... boyfriend.”

Minjeong’s steps faltered as Yunho strode confidently toward the bench where San sat, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Boyfriend?” she repeated, her tone tinged with disbelief as she followed Yunho with hurried steps. 

Yunho didn’t answer. Instead, he waved casually at San, who looked up from his phone with a faintly annoyed expression. Yunho’s stomach flipped—this could backfire spectacularly. But he had no other options, and he prayed San wouldn’t make things worse.

“Hey, baby,” Yunho said, his voice overly cheerful as he stopped in front of San. He leaned down slightly, giving San a look that he hoped conveyed please go along with this.

San blinked at him, posture tensed, his expression unreadable. His eyes flicked to Minjeong, standing a few steps behind Yunho, and then back to Yunho. His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, Yunho thought he was about to shut him down completely.

“Uh... hi,” San said finally, his voice hesitant but loud enough for Minjeong to hear.

Yunho nearly sagged with relief, though he kept his grin firmly in place. “Sorry I’m late,” he continued, sitting down beside San and slinging an arm over the back of the bench—not quite touching San but close enough to sell the illusion.

Minjeong stared at them, her arms crossed and her skepticism evident. “Well, this is... unexpected,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You never mentioned you were seeing anyone, Yunho.”

“It’s new,” Yunho said smoothly, glancing at San. “Right, Sannie?”

San hesitated, his gaze flickering between Yunho and Minjeong. Yunho braced himself, silently pleading to him to play along. Finally, San sighed, leaning back against the bench with an air of indifference.

“Yeah,” he said, his tone a little flat but cooperative. “We are still on probation period, we were just keeping it low-key.”

Minjeong’s eyes narrowed further. “Low-key? Yunho doesn’t do low-key.”

San raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching faintly in what might have been amusement. “Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think.”

Yunho bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He wasn’t sure what surprised him more—San’s willingness to play along with the lie or the ease with which he delivered that line. Either way, he felt a wave of gratitude wash over him.

“Well, this is... something,” Minjeong said, her tone clipped. She looked between them, clearly unconvinced but unwilling to push further. “I guess I’ll leave you two alone, then.”

She hesitated for a moment longer as if waiting for Yunho to backpedal or for San to give something away. When neither happened, she gave a tight smile and turned on her heel, walking away without another word.

Yunho waited until she was out of earshot before letting out a long breath, his shoulders slumping in relief. “That was close.”

San crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “You want to tell me what the hell was that about?”

“Not really,” Yunho admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “But thanks for playing along. You didn’t have to.”

San studied him for a moment, then shrugged. “I had my reasons.”

Yunho frowned, tilting his head. “What reasons?”

San stood, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Let’s just say you’re not the only one who needed an excuse today.”

Before Yunho could ask what that meant, San started walking away, leaving him sitting on the bench with more questions than answers.

He remained seated on the bench long after San had walked away, staring at the empty path ahead of him. San’s last words echoed in his mind. What did that even mean? San wasn’t the type to do anything without a reason, and Yunho doubted he’d gone along with the lie out of the kindness of his heart. But if San had his own motives, what were they? Yunho couldn’t imagine what situation could possibly drive someone like San to cooperate in such a ridiculous charade.

He shook his head, standing and grabbing his book. There was no point in overthinking it now. San had helped him, and for that, Yunho was grateful—whatever the reason.

Later, when Yunho returned to his dorm, he found Mingi sprawled on his bed, scrolling through his phone with the kind of relaxed ease only Mingi could manage. Yunho dropped his bag onto the floor and flopped onto his own bed with a sigh.

“You good?” Mingi asked, glancing up briefly. “You look... I don’t know like your brain’s actually working for once.”

Yunho tossed a pillow at him, earning a laugh. “Not funny.”

“Seriously, though,” Mingi said, sitting up. “What happened? You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

“The ‘I did something dumb and now I’m thinking about it’ look.”

Yunho groaned, covering his face with his hands. “It’s not exactly what you'd call dumb, but yeah.”

Mingi grinned, clearly enjoying this. “Now I’m intrigued. Spill.”

Yunho hesitated for a moment before sitting up, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Okay, so... Minjeong was being, well, Minjeong.”

“Shocking,” Mingi said dryly.

“And I didn’t know how to get her to back off, so I... kind of pretended to have a boyfriend,” Yunho said avoiding Mingi's gaze.  

Mingi blinked. Then he burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. “You did what?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want,” Yunho muttered, throwing another pillow. “But, it gets worse.”

“How could it possibly get worse?” Mingi asked, still chuckling.

“I said San was my boyfriend,” Yunho admitted, wincing slightly.

That stopped Mingi mid-laugh. He stared at Yunho, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. “Choi San? Our Choi San?”

Yunho nodded, bracing himself.

“And he went along with it?” Mingi asked, his voice rising slightly as he straightened his posture. “No way.”

“Hell yeah, he did,” Yunho said, shaking his head. “I don’t know why, but he did. He even let me call him ‘baby’ without trying to kill me.”

Mingi doubled over, laughing so hard that tears formed in his eyes. “Oh my God. This is—this is amazing. Situations desperate enough to make San cooperate? I didn’t think it was possible.”

Yunho sighed, though he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, well, it happened. But now I can’t stop wondering why he went along with it. He said he had his own reasons, but he didn’t say what.”

Mingi sobered slightly, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Huh. That is weird. Maybe he’s got his own thing going on with someone else.”

“Maybe,” Yunho said, leaning back against the wall. “But whatever it is, I owe him. That could have gone a lot worse.”

“True,” Mingi agreed, still grinning. “But seriously, man, you and San? I wish I could’ve seen Minjeong’s face.”

Yunho laughed, grabbing another pillow and flopping back onto his bed. “Don’t remind me.”

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬

San walked with hurried steps across campus, his hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets and his mind swirling with disbelief. The encounter with Yunho had been bizarre—no, it had been downright absurd. Of all the things San had expected that day, being dragged into a fake relationship wasn’t one of them.

He scoffed under his breath, his pace quickening as if walking faster would somehow clear his thoughts. What the hell just happened? Yunho, with that stupid grin of his, had just waltzed up and declared them a couple like it was the most natural thing in the world. And the worst part of it? San had gone along with it.

"You're such an idiot", he muttered through gritted teeth, shaking his head. He wasn’t sure if he was talking about Yunho or himself. Probably both.

The cafeteria loomed ahead, but San veered away, heading instead for the quieter paths near the dorms. He needed space to think, away from the noise of the campus and the lingering embarrassment that seemed to cling to him like a second skin.

Yunho’s words echoed in his mind, along with the startled look on Minjeong’s face. San couldn’t deny the small satisfaction he’d felt at seeing her flustered, but that was quickly overshadowed by the bigger problem at hand: Seonghwa.

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. So now I have a ‘boyfriend.’ The idea was laughable, especially considering who it was. Yunho, of all people. The golden boy of their department. The same Yunho who had spent years being everything San couldn’t stand—loud, overly friendly, and entirely too full of himself.

And yet... San couldn’t ignore the convenience of the situation. Seonghwa hadn’t pressed for details earlier, but it was only a matter of time before he asked about San’s supposed relationship. If Yunho played along, even just a little, it might save him from having to explain why he’d lied in the first place. Therefore he wouldn't disappoint Seonghwa by admitting he lied to him. 

But that brought up another issue: Yunho. Would he even agree to something like this? He’d been the one to start the act earlier, but that had been spur-of-the-moment. Surely, once the dust settled, Yunho would realize how ridiculous it all was and back out. San shuddered at the thought of having to convince Yunho to cooperate. The very idea of acting like a couple with him made his skin crawl. It wasn’t just that San didn’t like Yunho—he actively avoided him. Yunho’s presence was annoying, his jokes insufferable, and his relentless optimism felt like a personal insult to San’s entire sad grey worldview.

But Seonghwa’s smile flashed in his mind, and San’s resolve wavered. If pretending to be Yunho’s boyfriend was the price of keeping his dignity intact around Seonghwa, wasn’t it worth considering? He hated the thought, but it might just be his best option.

He sighed again, slowing his pace as he reached the dormitories. His fingers tightened around the strap of his bag as his thoughts continued to spiral. For now, he wouldn’t say anything to anyone—not to Yeosang, not to Seonghwa, and certainly not to Yunho. He needed time to think, to figure out his next move before this mess got even more complicated.

The morning was crisp and quiet as San walked alongside Yeosang, their footsteps echoing faintly against the cobblestone path that led to the cafeteria. The early hour meant fewer students milling about, which suited San perfectly. The last thing he needed was more noise.

Yeosang, as usual, was calm and silent, sipping from his travel cup. San appreciated the lack of small talk; mornings were best spent in peace. He was just beginning to think that maybe this day wouldn’t be so bad when an unwelcome high-pitched voice broke through his thoughts.

“Choi San.”

San stiffened instinctively, his eyes narrowing as Minjeong stepped into their path. Her usual bubbly demeanor was nowhere to be found. Instead, she stood with her arms crossed, a sharpness in her gaze that made San’s stomach twist.

“Kim Minjeong,” San said flatly, keeping his tone neutral. “What do you want?”

Yeosang stopped beside him, clearly caught off guard. He raised an eyebrow but stayed silent, his mug hovering near his lips as he observed the unusual exchange.

“I just wanted to talk,” Minjeong said, her smile tight and far from friendly. “About Yunho.”

San’s jaw clenched. He had a sinking feeling about where this was going. “What about him?”

“Oh, you know,” Minjeong said, her tone light but with an edge of sarcasm. “Just curious about your... relationship.”

Yeosang’s head tilted slightly, his brows furrowing. San could feel his friend’s confusion, but he didn’t look over. Instead, he forced himself to meet Minjeong’s gaze, willing himself to stay calm.

“Why?” San asked, crossing his arms. “Does it bother you?”

Minjeong’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before returning, sharper than before. “Of course not. I just find it... interesting. I mean, you and Yunho? That came out of nowhere.”

San shrugged, trying to look as indifferent as possible. “Sometimes unexpected things happen quickly.”

“Right,” Minjeong said, her voice dripping with disbelief. She took a step closer, her eyes narrowing slightly. “So, how long have you two been together? Must be pretty recent if no one knew.”

San’s mind raced, searching for something—anything—to say that wouldn’t completely unravel the lie. “A couple of weeks,” he said finally, keeping his tone casual. “We were keeping it private.”

“Private?” Minjeong repeated, her smile twisting into something almost mocking. “That doesn’t sound like Yunho, the word would spread fast about something like that happening.”

San’s patience was wearing thin. “We went to high school together, maybe you don’t know him as well as you think.”

Yeosang’s eyes widened slightly at the comment, his mug lowering as he glanced between them. Minjeong’s expression darkened, her mask of politeness slipping for just a moment.

“Well,” she said finally, her voice cold. “I guess I’ll just have to ask Yunho myself, won’t I?”

San’s stomach dropped, but he refused to let it show. He met her gaze evenly, his expression carefully blank. “Sure, no one is stopping you.”

Minjeong studied him for a moment longer before letting out a short, humorless laugh. “Enjoy your day, Sannie.” He says the nickname bitterly. 

With that, she turned and walked away, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement. San exhaled slowly, tension draining from his shoulders as he turned back to Yeosang.

“What was all that about?” Yeosang asked, his tone cautious.

San watched Minjeong disappear into the crowd, his thoughts swirling. For a brief moment, he considered leaving things as they were. Let Minjeong confront Yunho. Let him deal with the fallout. After all, Yunho was the one who had dragged him into this ridiculous situation.

But then another thought crept in—Seonghwa. If Yunho’s lie fell apart, so would San’s excuse. And the last thing San wanted was to explain to Seonghwa why he’d lied about something so trivial.

He sighed, turning to Yeosang, who was still staring at him with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“I can explain,” San said, his voice low. “But not now.”

Yeosang raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further, simply nodding. “All right. Just... don’t do anything stupid.”

San smirked faintly, though it lacked his usual edge. “No promises.”

He walked fast, almost running to the cafeteria. Scanning the room quickly, his eyes landing on Yunho almost immediately. He was seated at his usual table with Mingi, Wooyoung, and Jongho, laughing at something Wooyoung had said.

San took a deep breath, steeling himself. He wasn’t looking forward to this, but there was no other choice. Squaring his shoulders, he walked toward the table.

As he approached, Yunho glanced up, his expression shifting from amusement to mild surprise. San stopped a few feet away, keeping his tone as neutral as possible.

“Yunho,” he started. “Can I talk to you? Privately.”

The laughter at the table died down as the other three turned to look at him. Mingi raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, while Wooyoung smirked, leaning back in his chair.

“Oh?, I didn’t know you two were on speaking terms,” Wooyoung teased.

“Not now,” San snapped, glaring at him before turning back to Yunho. “It’s important.”

Yunho hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

He stood, following San out of the cafeteria and into the quieter yard outside. Once they were far enough from prying ears, Yunho crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly.

“All right,” he said calmly. “What’s so important?”

San exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Minjeong.”

Yunho frowned. “What about her?”

“She stopped me a moment ago,” San explained, his tone clipped. “Started asking questions about... us.”

Yunho blinked, then groaned, rubbing his temples. “Great. What did you tell her?”

“That we’ve been together for a couple of weeks,” San said flatly. “But I don't think she's buying anything that I said to her. She said she’s going to ask you.”

Yunho muttered something under his breath, pacing a few steps away before turning back to San. “So what? You came here to warn me?”

“Sort of,” San said, crossing his arms. “Look, I’ll help you keep this whole act going—deal with Minjeong or whatever. But you have to help me with something in return.”

Yunho raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “What kind of something?”

San hesitated, debating how much to reveal. “I’ll explain later. Just... do we have a deal or not?”

Yunho studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Fine. Deal. But this better not blow up in my face.”

San smirked faintly. “Likewise.”

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬

Yunho pushed open the cafeteria door, his thoughts still spinning from the conversation with San. His footsteps slowed as he neared his table, his friends’ expectant faces already turned toward him. Mingi was the first to speak, his grin wide and teasing.

“Well?” Mingi asked, leaning forward. “What did San want?”

Wooyoung smirked, propping his chin on his hand. “Yeah, you two seemed awfully serious. Don’t tell me there’s trouble in paradise already.”

Yunho rolled his eyes, dropping into his seat. “Can you not?”

“Come on, spill,” Wooyoung pressed. “You’ve got us all intrigued now.”

Jongho raised an eyebrow, his expression more reserved but still interested. Yunho hesitated, his mind racing. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to tell them, especially since he didn’t fully understand what San was planning himself. But before he could decide, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

Minjeong had entered the cafeteria.

Yunho’s eyes darted toward her, and his stomach dropped when he saw her scanning the room. It didn’t take long for her gaze to land on him, her determined stride already cutting through the crowd.

“Oh, no,” Yunho muttered, straightening in his seat. “She’s coming over here.”

“Who?” Mingi asked, craning his neck to look.

“Minjeong,” Yunho hissed, his voice low. “She’s going to ask about... you know.”

The table fell silent, his friends exchanging glances. Wooyoung's grin widened, clearly amused. “Oh, this is interesting.”

“No, it’s not,” Yunho said sharply, glaring at him. “I need you all to play along. If she asks something, you back me up. No questions, no snarky comments, just... agree with whatever I say.”

“Wow,” Jongho said dryly. “This must be serious.”

“It is,” Yunho said, his voice clipped. “Please.”

Wooyoung raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin softening. “Fine, fine. We’ve got your back, Yun. But you owe us an explanation later.”

Yunho didn’t have time to respond before Minjeong reached the table, her usual bright smile firmly in place. But Yunho could see the glint of suspicion in her eyes, and it made his palms sweat.

“Hi, Yunho,” she said sweetly, her gaze flicking briefly to his friends before settling on him. “Mind if I talk with you for a second?”

Yunho forced a smile, his heart pounding. “Sure, Minjeong. What’s up?”

Minjeong pulled out a chair and sat down without waiting for an invitation, her gaze steady as she looked at Yunho. There was a thin, polite smile on her face, but her eyes carried a sharpness that made Yunho’s shoulders tense.

“I’ve been thinking,” she began, her tone casual. “About what happened yesterday.”

Yunho’s fingers tightened slightly on his glass, but he forced a smile. “Oh?”

“You and Choi San,” Minjeong clarified, leaning forward slightly. “I have to say, it caught me off guard. I never expected you two to be... close.”

Yunho shrugged, keeping his tone light. “I guess we are good at keeping things under wraps.”

“Clearly,” Minjeong said, her smile twitching. “I mean, you’ve always been surrounded by your friends, so I never saw any signs. Did any of you guys know?” She turned her gaze to Wooyoung and Jongho.

Wooyoung looked up, visibly confused. “Know what?”

“That Yunho’s dating San,” Minjeong said smoothly, her tone so casual it took a moment for Wooyoung and Jongho to process the words.

“Wait, what?” Wooyoung blurted, his jaw dropping. “San? As in that San?”

Yunho glanced at Mingi, silently pleading for help. Mingi, to his credit, kept his cool, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

“Of course I knew,” Mingi said, throwing an arm over the back of his chair. “As his best friend, Yunho tells me everything.”

Jongho’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression amused. “Really? Since when?”

“Not long,” Yunho interjected quickly. “We just made it official a couple of weeks ago. I didn’t want to rush into anything or make a big deal out of it.”

Minjeong’s smile didn’t falter, but Yunho could see the doubt flickering in her eyes. “How considerate of you,” she said, her tone light but pointed. “Though I have to admit, it’s hard to picture you and San. You two don’t exactly... match.”

Yunho felt his stomach twist but kept his expression steady. “Sometimes opposites work best,” he said with a shrug.

“That’s true,” Mingi chimed in, grinning. “And San keeps him grounded, right, Yunho?”

Yunho gave Mingi a tight smile, grateful for his support but silently wishing he wouldn’t push the joke too far. Minjeong seemed to notice the slight tension, her eyes narrowing briefly before she leaned back in her chair.

“Well,” she said, standing up gracefully. “I won’t keep you much longer, you guys seem like you need to talk. But I’m sure I’ll see you around, Yunho, maybe even with San?”

Yunho nodded, his smile feeling more strained by the second. “Yeah, maybe.”

Minjeong’s gaze lingered for a moment longer, sharp and calculating before she finally turned and walked away. As soon as she was out of earshot, Wooyoung leaned forward, his expression a mix of confusion and disbelief.

“Okay, what the hell was that?” he asked, his voice low but exasperated. “You and San? Really? How?”

Jongho raised an eyebrow, waiting for Yunho’s response. Mingi, meanwhile, just watched with a faint smirk, clearly enjoying the show.

“It’s... complicated,” Yunho said finally, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just don’t ask too many questions, okay?”

Wooyoung didn’t look satisfied, but he didn’t push further, leaning back in his chair with a bemused expression. Jongho exchanged a glance with Mingi, but he remained silent, apparently deciding to let it go—for now.

Yunho exhaled quietly, grateful for the reprieve. But as he turned his attention back to his lunch, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Minjeong wasn’t done digging—and that keeping this lie intact was going to be much harder than he’d anticipated.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬

San leaned back against his chair in their dorm room, arms crossed as he avoided Yeosang’s piercing stare. He had just finished explaining the whole situation with Yunho, the fake relationship, and the reasoning behind it. The silence that followed was heavy, filled with Yeosang’s quiet disbelief.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Yeosang said finally, his tone sharper than usual. “Tell me this is a joke.”

San sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It’s not a joke.”

Yeosang paced across the room, his arms folded tightly across his chest. “San, what were you thinking? You agreed to pretend to be Yunho’s boyfriend? For what?”

San hesitated, then answered, his voice low. “To keep my lie to Seonghwa intact.”

Yeosang stopped pacing, turning to face him. “Your lie? This is what I meant! You’re digging yourself into a bigger hole for no reason. I told you he would understand, you just needed to apologize.”

“It’s not for no reason,” San said defensively. “Seonghwa doesn’t know how I feel about him, and now that he’s with someone, I— I panicked, okay? I didn’t want to look pathetic.”

“Pathetic?” Yeosang repeated, his tone incredulous. “San, lying about being in a relationship doesn’t make you look better. It just makes everything messier.”

San dropped his gaze to the floor, his fists clenching at his sides. “I know it’s stupid, Yeosang. I really was thinking about apologizing to Seonghwa. But then Yunho dragged me into his mess with Minjeong, so it kind of... worked out.”

“Worked out?” Yeosang scoffed. “You call this working out?”

San looked up, meeting Yeosang’s gaze with a mixture of frustration and pleading. “I’m asking you to understand. I didn’t plan for this to happen, but now I’m stuck. I need your support, not your judgment.”

Yeosang sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He ran a hand through his hair, his usual calm demeanor cracking under the weight of the situation. “San, you know I hate this kind of thing. Lies, pretending—it never ends well.”

“I know,” San said softly. “But I need this. Just for a little while.”

Yeosang stared at him for a long moment, his expression a mix of disappointment and reluctant understanding. Finally, he let out a long breath and nodded.

“Fine,” he said, his voice heavy. “I’ll go along with it. But only because you’re my best friend, and you know that I'll always support you. That doesn’t mean I approve any of this, though.”

San managed a small, grateful smile. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Yeosang muttered, shaking his head. “Just... don’t make this worse, okay?”

San nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure he could keep that promise. The situation was already complicated, and he had a feeling it was only going to get worse from here on.

The morning sun cast a soft glow over the campus as San walked alongside Yeosang some days later, their footsteps quiet against the cobblestone path. The air was crisp, the kind of refreshing wind that hinted at the early stages of summer. San relished the silence—it gave him a moment to gather his thoughts before the chaos of the day began.

“Sannie! Yeosang!”

San stiffened at the familiar voice, turning to see Seonghwa jogging toward them, his bright smile as warm as ever. Yeosang offered a polite wave, while San tried to mask his sudden discomfort with a small nod.

“Good morning,” Seonghwa greeted, falling into step beside them. “How are you guys?”

“Same as always,” Yeosang replied easily. “What about you?”

“Great, actually,” Seonghwa said, his smile widening. “My boyfriend and I found this new café downtown the other day, and we’re planning to check it out this weekend. I was thinking you guys would love it—why don’t you join us?”

San’s chest tightened. Boyfriend. The word hit him like a punch to the gut, even though he’d already known. He glanced at Yeosang, who raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting to see how San would respond.

“I can’t, sorry,” Yeosang said, breaking the brief silence. “I’ve already got plans for the weekend.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Seonghwa said, though his disappointment was short-lived as he turned to San. “What about you, Sannie? You should come. And maybe you could bring your boyfriend too. It could be a double date!”

San’s heart raced, panic flaring in his chest. He could feel Yeosang’s gaze burning into the side of his head, but he didn’t dare look at him. Instead, he forced a tight smile and nodded.

“Sure, but first I’ll have to... check with him,” San said, his voice wavering slightly. “But maybe.”

Seonghwa’s face lit up, his excitement evident. “That would be amazing! I’ve been wanting to introduce you guys for a while now. And I’d love to meet your boyfriend, too. It’ll be fun!”

San managed a weak chuckle, nodding again as he tried to keep the rising dread at bay. “Yeah, sure. I’ll let you know, hyung.”

“Perfect,” Seonghwa said, clearly pleased. “Let me know by Friday, okay?”

San nodded once more, muttering a quiet “Will do” as they reached the entrance to their building. Seonghwa waved cheerfully before heading to his class, leaving San and Yeosang standing in awkward silence.

San exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders refusing to ease. He finally glanced at Yeosang, who was staring at him with a look that screamed disappointment. 

“Please, not now,” San muttered, brushing past him and into the classroom.

San sat at his desk, his notebook open in front of him, though the page remained mostly blank. The hum of the lecture droned on in the background, the professor’s voice blending with the faint scratching of pens and the occasional shuffle of papers. His pen hovered idly, his mind far from the topic being discussed.

What am I supposed to do?

The question looped endlessly in his head, each possible answer more frustrating than the last. He could tell Seonghwa that his boyfriend—fake boyfriend—was busy that day, but the thought of disappointing Seonghwa, of seeing even a hint of sadness on his face, made San’s chest tighten. On the other hand, going through with the double date felt equally impossible. The idea of sitting across from Seonghwa and his boyfriend, pretending to be happily involved with Yunho, was enough to make his skin crawl.

San sighed quietly, tapping his pen against the edge of his notebook. He couldn’t deny the convenience of having Yunho as a fallback, especially since Yunho had already agreed to help him if needed. But asking Yunho to join him on a date—even a fake one—felt like crossing a line he wasn’t sure he could stomach. Just the thought of Yunho’s infuriatingly easy grin and fake charm made San’s jaw clench.

Why does it have to be him? San thought bitterly, his gaze fixed on the professor without really seeing him. No matter how much he tried to rationalize the situation, he couldn’t shake the irritation he felt toward Yunho. The guy was everything San disliked, yet, somehow, Yunho had managed to wedge himself into San’s life in the most inconvenient way possible.

The class passed in a blur, San’s thoughts a tangled mess of excuses, doubts, and reluctant plans. By the time the lecture ended, he felt no closer to a solution than he had at the start.

The cafeteria was buzzing with activity when San arrived, the usual lunchtime chaos making it difficult to find a quiet spot. He grabbed his tray and moved toward a corner table, hoping to avoid any unnecessary interactions. He wanted to be alone today. 

But before he could sit down, a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks, tensing.

“San.”

San turned to see Yunho standing a few feet away, his tray balanced effortlessly in one hand. Yunho’s expression was casual, but there was a hint of urgency in his tone as he gestured with his head toward the other side of the room.

San followed his gaze and immediately spotted Minjeong, standing by the entrance with a determined look on her face. She hadn’t noticed them yet, but it was clear she was scanning the room for someone—most likely Yunho.

“Eat with me,” Yunho said quickly, his voice low. “Just... go along with it.”

San stared at him, his annoyance flaring. There it goes his time alone. “Why?”

Yunho raised an eyebrow, his tone taking on a hint of exasperation. “Do you really want her to come over here and start asking questions? Because I don’t.”

San hesitated, glancing back at Minjeong. The last thing he wanted was to be dragged into another awkward confrontation. With a resigned sigh, he nodded, moving to sit at Yunho’s table.

“Fine,” San muttered. “But you owe me.”

“Whatever you'd want, baby,” Yunho said with a smirk.

San rolled his eyes but went with him. As much as he hated to admit it, Yunho had a point. For now, at least, it seemed they were stuck in this together.

He followed Yunho through the crowded cafeteria, his tray balanced carefully in his hands. The clatter of silverware and the buzz of conversations grated on his nerves, but what bothered him, even more, was the way Yunho kept glancing back, clearly searching for Minjeong.

When Yunho slowed his pace, San leaned closer, his voice low. “We’re not sitting with your friends, right?”

Yunho raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Why not?”

“Because they’re loud, and I don’t like them,” San said bluntly. “Let’s just find a quiet corner.”

Yunho shook his head, his expression turning serious. “If we sit alone, it’ll draw more attention. Trust me, it’s better to blend in with a group.”

San scowled, hating how much sense that made. He glanced around the room, noticing more than a few pairs of eyes darting in their direction. Yunho wasn’t just popular—he was the type of person everyone seemed to notice, even in a crowded space like this.

“Fine,” San muttered, reluctantly following Yunho toward the table where his friends were already seated.

As they approached, Mingi’s face lit up with a grin that immediately set San on edge. The taller boy leaned back in his chair, clearly amused as he watched them sit down.

“Well, well,” Mingi said, his tone dripping with mischief. “Look who decided to join us.”

“Mingi shut up,” Yunho said quickly, though his tone lacked any real bite.

Wooyoung and Jongho, on the other hand, exchanged incredulous looks. Wooyoung’s jaw dropped slightly, and Jongho raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable but clearly skeptical.

“So, it was true,” Wooyoung began, leaning forward slightly. “This is... unexpected.”

San shot Yunho a glare, silently daring him to explain. Yunho ignored it, focusing instead on his food as if that would somehow diffuse the tension.

“It’s not that unexpected,” Mingi chimed in, his grin widening. “You guys are just slow.”

San bristled at the comment but kept his mouth shut, instead stabbing at his food with more force than necessary. He could feel Wooyoung’s and Jongho’s eyes on him, their curiosity practically radiating across the table.

“You’re telling me this has been going on for a couple of weeks,” Jongho said finally, his tone skeptical. “And you didn't tell us?”

Yunho hesitated, glancing at San before answering. “We wanted to keep it private. You know, take things slow, giving it a try.” He said sheepishly. 

“Private?” Wooyoung scoffed, clearly not buying it. “Yunho, you can’t keep shit private.”

San suppressed a sigh, resisting the urge to point out how poorly Yunho was handling the situation. Instead, he focused on his food, hoping the conversation would shift to something else. But his mind kept circling back to one thought: Why hadn’t Yunho told them the truth?

He couldn’t deny that he was relieved—fewer people knowing the truth meant less risk of the lie unraveling. Still, it surprised him. Yunho seemed like the type to share everything with his friends.

San stole a glance at Yunho, who was fiddling with his chopsticks, a thoughtful expression on his face. He looked like he wanted to say something, but before he could, a familiar voice cut through the din of the cafeteria.

“Yunho!”

San stiffened as Minjeong approached the table, her confident stride and bright smile making it clear she had no intention of letting the conversation end there.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬

Yunho sighed inwardly, his frustration bubbling to the surface. Seriously? How does she keep finding me? He glanced at San, who was already tensing up across the table, his expression slipping into its usual mask of indifference.

“Hey, Minjeong,” Yunho said, forcing a polite smile. “What’s up?”

She slid into the empty seat beside him, her gaze briefly flicking to San before returning to Yunho. “Oh, nothing much,” she said, her tone light. “I just thought I’d say hi. You know, it’s nice to see you two spending time together.”

Yunho stiffened slightly, catching the faint edge in her voice. “Yeah, well, we’re just having lunch. Like couples do.”

Minjeong’s smile didn’t falter, but her eyes lingered on San, her expression turning faintly skeptical. “It’s just... I still can't picture it, that’s all. You two are so different. I mean, you’re so outgoing, and he’s... well, quiet.”

San’s chopsticks paused mid-air, his jaw tightening. “Quiet doesn’t mean boring,” he said flatly, not bothering to look at her.

Minjeong blinked, taken aback by his sharp tone. “Oh, of course not! I just mean it must be... challenging, you know? Dating someone who doesn’t talk much.”

San’s gaze snapped to her, his eyes narrowing. “I didn’t realize my personality was up for debate.”

Yunho watched the exchange, his irritation growing with every word. Minjeong’s passive-aggressive tone grated on his nerves, and while he knew San could handle himself, Yunho couldn’t help but feel protective. He didn’t like the way Minjeong was looking at San—like he didn’t measure up.

“Actually,” Yunho said, cutting in before the tension could escalate further, “that’s one of the things I like about him.”

The table fell silent. San turned to him, his eyes widening slightly, while Mingi barely suppressed a laugh. Wooyoung and Jongho exchanged incredulous looks, and even Minjeong looked momentarily stunned.

“What?” Minjeong said, her voice softer now.

Yunho leaned forward, reaching out to take San’s hand across the table. The gesture surprised even himself, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he looked at Minjeong with a small, genuine smile. “San’s quiet, yeah. But that just means he listens. He pays attention to the little things, and he’s not afraid to call me out when I’m being an idiot. It’s one of the reasons I fell for him.”

San’s hand twitched slightly in his, but he didn’t pull away. Yunho dared a glance at him and caught the faintest hint of pink dusting his cheeks. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, and for some reason, it made Yunho’s chest tighten.

Minjeong cleared her throat, her composure slipping as she looked between them. “Well... that’s sweet,” she said, though her tone lacked its usual confidence. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

Yunho nodded, his grip on San’s hand loosening slightly. “We know. But maybe think about what you say next time.”

Minjeong’s smile faltered, but she nodded, standing abruptly. “I’ll see you later, Yunho.”

The tension at the table eased slightly as Minjeong disappeared into the crowd, but the silence that followed was anything but comfortable. San was the first to break it, pulling his hand back and focusing intently on his tray as if it held the answers to all his problems. Yunho, on the other hand, leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply.

“Sorry,” Yunho said. “I didn’t mean to—”

San cut him off with a sharp look. “Don’t apologize. Just... don’t make a habit of it.”

Yunho grinned despite himself. “Noted.”

“What the hell was that?” Wooyoung asked, his tone somewhere between confused and amused. His eyes darted between Yunho and San, narrowing slightly. “And what did he mean by ‘don’t make a habit of it?’”

Yunho sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, fine. I’ll explain.”

Wooyoung leaned forward eagerly, while Jongho looked expectant, his expression calm but curious. Mingi simply smirked, clearly waiting to see how Yunho would handle this.

“It’s... complicated,” Yunho began, gesturing vaguely. “Minjeong wouldn’t back off, and I needed a way to get her to stop.”

“So you what? Invented a boyfriend?” Wooyoung asked, his eyes widening.

“Basically,” Yunho admitted, wincing slightly. “And San happened to be there, so I just... went with it.”

Wooyoung stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. “Yeah, but, San? San? Why him?”

“That’s what I want to know,” Jongho added, his gaze shifting to San. “Why are you even helping him? You don’t even like Yunho.”

San didn’t look up, his jaw tightening slightly. “I have my reasons.”

Jongho tilted his head, clearly unsatisfied with that answer. “What reasons?”

“None of your business,” San said flatly, finally meeting Jongho’s gaze. “I’ll tell Yunho later. In private.”

The table fell quiet again, Wooyoung and Jongho exchanging incredulous looks. Yunho, for his part, felt his curiosity flare. He still didn’t understand why San had agreed to this in the first place, and the vague responses only deepened the mystery.

“Okay, but seriously,” Wooyoung said, breaking the silence. “Why not ask one of us? Wouldn’t that make more sense?”

“Not really,” Mingi interjected, his smirk widening. “Minjeong knows us. She’d see through it in a second.”

Wooyoung frowned, considering this. “Fair point. But still... San?”

“Are you really going to keep saying my name like it’s some kind of crime?” San muttered bitterly, shooting Wooyoung a glare.

“No offense,” Wooyoung said quickly, though the grin on his face suggested otherwise. “It’s just... you two? It’s hard to picture.”

“You’re not supposed to picture it,” San snapped. “That’s the whole point.”

Yunho sighed, rubbing his temples. “Can we not make this harder than it already is? Look, it’s just until Minjeong backs off, okay? That’s it.”

“Sure,” Wooyoung said, his grin fading slightly. “But good luck with that. Minjeong doesn’t exactly give up easily.”

“Yeah,” Yunho muttered under his breath. “I’ve noticed.”

Chapter Text

The hallway was quiet, save for the faint hum of conversations echoing from nearby classrooms. San leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as he watched the flow of students heading toward their lecture halls. His fingers tapped rhythmically against his sleeve, a nervous habit he hadn’t been able to shake since high school.

He spotted Yunho and Mingi walking side by side, their conversation punctuated by Yunho’s laughter. The sound grated on San’s nerves more than it should have. As they approached, he straightened, stepping into their path before he could second-guess himself.

“Mingi,” San said abruptly, his tone firm but polite. “I need to borrow him.”

Mingi raised an eyebrow, a smirk drawing on his face, glancing between San and Yunho. “Borrow him? For what?”

“It’s not your concern,” San said curtly, avoiding Yunho’s curious gaze. “Just give us a minute.”

Mingi scoffed, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were about to protest. But Yunho nudged him lightly, flashing a reassuring grin. “It’s fine. I’ll catch up with you.”

Mingi shrugged, stepping aside. “If you say so. Don’t let him kill you, though.”

Yunho chuckled, though the confusion in his expression remained as San gestured for him to follow. They walked a short distance down the corridor until they were out of sight, the noise of passing students fading into the background.

Yunho leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he studied San with mild amusement. “All right, what’s this about? You’re not usually this eager to talk to me.”

San didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as he weighed his words. He hated this—hated feeling like he was cornering someone into doing him a favor. But the alternative was worse, and if he was going to salvage his situation, he needed Yunho’s cooperation.

Taking a deep breath, San met Yunho’s gaze. “I need your help.”

Yunho’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “With what?”

San hesitated, his fingers twitching at his sides. “It’s... about Seonghwa.”

Yunho tilted his head, clearly intrigued. “What about him?”

San exhaled sharply, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “Look, I don’t have time to explain everything right now. But he wants me to go on a double date—with him and his boyfriend.”

Yunho blinked, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he were suppressing a laugh. “And you want me to—”

“Yes,” San interrupted, his tone harsher than intended. “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend again. Just for the date.”

Yunho opened his mouth to respond, but San cut him off, his voice steady and firm. “Before you say no, just remember—you owe me. You’re the one who dragged me into this hell in the first place.”

The amusement faded from Yunho’s face, replaced by something unreadable. He studied San for a long moment, his expression thoughtful.

San tightened his arms across his chest, his gaze fixed on the wall just over Yunho’s shoulder. He tried to maintain the tough facade he’d built, the same one he used to keep people at arm’s length. But the weight of Yunho’s silence pressed down on him, threatening to crack the surface.

This was stupid. He hated this. Hated having to ask Yunho for help. The thought alone made his stomach churn. Yunho was everything San despised. But he was also the only person who could get him out of this mess.

San clenched his jaw, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself grounded. Don’t overthink it. Just focus. He replayed the scene with Seonghwa in his mind—his bright smile, the way his eyes lit up when he suggested the double date. San couldn’t let him down. Even if it meant leaning on Yunho, of all people.

But what if Yunho said no? He wasn’t obligated to help, no matter how much San insisted that he owed him. And what reason would Yunho even have to agree? This wasn’t his problem. San’s chest tightened at the thought, and without realizing it, his teeth sank into his bottom lip, his nerves threatening to get the better of him.

“You okay there?” Yunho’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, laced with an irritating mix of curiosity and genuine concern.

San flinched, immediately straightening his posture and forcing his expression into something more neutral. “I’m fine.”

He glanced at Yunho, only to find him watching closely, his brows furrowed in quiet scrutiny. It wasn’t the reaction San expected. There was no smugness, no teasing smirk—just a thoughtful, almost searching look. Yunho was trying to read him, to figure him out.

For a brief, unnerving moment, San wondered what Yunho saw.

Then, as if coming to a decision, Yunho nodded. “All right. I’ll help.”

San blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise. He hadn’t prepared himself for that answer. He expected resistance, excuses, and maybe even outright laughter. But Yunho’s response was calm, almost casual, like he wasn’t even fazed by the request.

“You will?” San asked before he could stop himself, the words slipping out in a rare moment of vulnerability.

Yunho’s grin returned, faint but warm. “Yeah. You helped me, so... I guess I can return the favor.”

San’s heart twisted, the unexpected kindness throwing him off balance. He quickly masked his reaction, his expression hardening as he straightened his posture. “Good. Then it’s settled.”

He pulled out his phone, shoving it toward Yunho without meeting his gaze. “Give me your number. I’ll send you the details later.”

Yunho raised an eyebrow but took the phone, entering his number with practiced ease. “You know, for someone asking for a favor, you’re pretty bossy.”

“Just hurry up,” San muttered, avoiding the comment entirely.

Yunho handed the phone back, his grin widening slightly. “Done. Let me know when and where.”

San stuffed the phone back into his pocket, his tone clipped. “I will. Don’t mess this up.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Yunho replied, his voice laced with playful sarcasm.

San didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he turned on his heel, his steps quick as he walked away. But even as he put distance between them, the tension in his chest refused to ease. Yunho had agreed, sure, but there was still a part of San that hated how vulnerable he’d felt in that moment.

This is just a temporary arrangement, he reminded himself. Once this is over, I’ll go back to avoiding him like always.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

San sat on the edge of his bed, phone in hand, staring at the screen as if it personally offended him. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating for a second too long before he finally typed out the message.

San: Hey. We’ll be there for the double date.

The second he hit send, he regretted it. Not because he was backing out—he’d already decided there was no escape from this mess—but because it made everything feel real. He was actually doing this. Sitting through an entire evening with Yunho, pretending to be his boyfriend, while watching Seonghwa be genuinely happy with his real relationship.

His phone buzzed almost instantly.

Seonghwa: Really?? That’s great! 😊 My boyfriend and I were just talking about it. I'm so excited for you to meet him. We’re going to this café downtown—it’s got a really cozy vibe. 6 PM, Saturday! Can’t wait!

San exhaled sharply, his grip on his phone tightening. The enthusiasm in Seonghwa’s message only made him feel worse. He could already picture it—Seonghwa beaming across the table, gushing about how happy he was, how great his boyfriend was. And San? Sitting there, pretending he wasn’t unraveling on the inside.

With another sigh, he copied the details and pasted them into a new message. He hesitated for a moment before sending it to Yunho.

San: 6 PM, Saturday. Café downtown. Don’t be late.

He waited for a minute for an answer that didn't come immediately, making him scoff. Of course, Yunho wouldn't reply fast to you, San. But it wasn't long before it buzzed again startling him.

Yunho: Got it! Looking forward to it 👍

San groaned, tossing his phone onto his desk as if that would somehow rid him of his frustration. Of course, Yunho had to be polite. Of course, he had to be nice.

It made no sense. San had spent years convincing himself that Yunho was insufferable. That he was someone to be avoided, tolerated at best. But now? Now that Yunho was actually talking to him, helping him, going along with this ridiculous plan without a single complaint—it was messing with San’s carefully built perception.

San ran a hand through his hair, flopping back onto his bed with an irritated sigh. Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe this whole thing would be a disaster, and he’d have even more reason to dislike Yunho by the end of the night.

Yeah, he thought bitterly. That would make things easier.

But deep down, a small, infuriating voice whispered: What if it doesn’t?

San scowled at the ceiling, refusing to entertain the thought any longer.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬

Yunho was sprawled across his bed, flipping idly through his phone, when the message came in.

San: 6 PM, Saturday. Café downtown. Don’t be late.

He blinked at the screen for a moment before a laugh bubbled up from his chest. This was actually happening. He was going on a date—a fake one, sure, but a date nonetheless—with Choi San. The same Choi San who had spent years making it very clear that he had no patience for Yunho’s existence. And yet, here they were.

He tossed his phone onto his pillow and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered to himself, still grinning.

Of all the people in the world, how had they ended up entangled in this ridiculous situation together? It felt like some kind of twisted cosmic joke. He wasn’t sure whether to find it hilarious or concerning.

Mingi, who was sitting at his desk with his headphones around his neck, turned his head. “What’s so funny?”

Yunho just chuckled, lying back against his bed. “Nothing. Just thinking about how my life has officially entered a sitcom phase.”

Mingi smirked. “Oh, you mean your date with San?”

Yunho groaned, throwing a pillow at him. “Don’t call it that.”

“But it is a date,” Mingi teased, catching the pillow effortlessly. “Fake or not, you’re still getting dressed up and sitting across from him like a real couple.”

Yunho rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “I still don’t get why he needs my help, though. He was so reluctant to play along at first, but now he’s the one asking me to do this? There’s got to be a big reason.”

Mingi hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe he’s in a mess just like you were. I mean, it’s not like he’d do this for fun.”

Yunho frowned. Yeah, but what kind of mess? San didn’t seem like the type to care what other people thought. He was blunt, distant, and gave off an air of I don’t need anyone. So why would he feel the need to fake a relationship?

The fact that San hadn’t told him the reason only made Yunho more curious.

“Guess I’ll find out soon enough,” Yunho muttered, grabbing his phone again to respond.

Yunho: Got it! Looking forward to it 👍

He could practically feel San rolling his eyes at the message, which only made him grin wider.

No matter how much San wanted to act like this was a chore, Yunho knew one thing for sure—this was going to be very interesting.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬

San stood in front of his open closet, arms crossed, glaring at the collection of clothing as if the right outfit would magically appear if he stared hard enough. The problem wasn’t that he didn’t have anything to wear—it was that nothing felt right.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “This is stupid.”

Yeosang, lounging on his bed with a book in hand, barely looked up. “Then just wear whatever you want.”

San shot him a glare. “If I do that, Seonghwa might think I don’t care.”

Yeosang hummed, flipping a page. “And that would be bad because…?”

San groaned, rubbing his temples. “Because then what was the point of all this? I have to at least make it look believable.”

Yeosang finally set his book down, tilting his head slightly. “Okay. Then wear something nice.”

San’s shoulders tensed. “But not too nice.”

Yeosang gave him a knowing look. “Because…?”

San crossed his arms, looking anywhere but at his best friend. “Because I don’t want him thinking I dressed up for him.”

Yeosang’s lips twitched. “By him, you mean Yunho.”

San scowled. “Obviously.”

Yeosang sighed, standing up and walking over to the closet. “So, let me get this straight. You don’t want Seonghwa to think you don’t care, but you also don’t want Yunho to think you do care.”

San hesitated before muttering, “Something like that.”

Yeosang rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

San leaned against the wall, rubbing his face. “I know. But I just—ugh, I don’t know. This whole thing is already annoying, and I don’t want to give Yunho the wrong idea.”

Yeosang smirked. “Right. Because it would be so terrible if Yunho thought you put effort into looking nice.”

San groaned dramatically. “Just help me pick something.”

Yeosang sifted through the hangers, pulling out a few options. “Okay, casual but put-together. How about this?” He held up a fitted black short-sleeve turtleneck and a simple brown jacket with well-fitted jeans.

San considered it, tilting his head. “...That’s not bad.”

Yeosang smirked. “Of course not. I have taste.”

San grabbed the clothes, holding them up against himself in the mirror. He had to admit—it was a good balance. Clean, effortless, but not like he was trying too hard. It didn’t scream ‘date night,’ but it didn’t scream ‘I don’t care’ either.

“Okay, this works,” San muttered. “Thanks.”

Yeosang plopped back onto his bed. “Don’t thank me. I still think this is stupid.”

San rolled his eyes. “Noted.”

As he set the outfit aside, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the hardest part of the day wasn’t going to be picking clothes—but getting through this date without losing his mind.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬

Yunho stood at the meeting spot, hands stuffed into the pockets of his denim jacket, shifting his weight idly as he glanced around. The cool evening breeze rustled through the streets, the sky painted in soft hues of orange and pink as the sun began to dip below the horizon.

He let out a small breath, shaking his head at the absurdity of the situation. A fake date with Choi San. If someone had told him a month ago that he’d be waiting for San, pretending to be his boyfriend, he would’ve laughed in their face. Yet here he was, leaning against a streetlamp, checking his phone as he waited.

Just as he looked up, his eyes landed on a familiar figure approaching.

And for a moment, Yunho actually forgot how to breathe.

San walked toward him, his usual hoodie-and-sweats ensemble nowhere in sight. Instead, he wore a black, short-sleeved turtleneck that fit snugly around his torso, the fabric hugging his toned arms in a way that was impossible not to notice. A brown jacked hanging on his arm. Paired with slim-fitting black jeans that accentuated his lean frame, he looked... different. Polished. Effortless. Attractive.

Yunho blinked, his thoughts briefly scrambling. He had never really looked at San before—at least, not like this. Yeah, he knew San was not the skinny kid from high school. But tonight?

Tonight, San looked—Nope. Yunho cut that train of thought off immediately.

He coughed into his fist, forcing a casual grin as San finally reached him. “Wow,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “Guess you can clean up.”

San rolled his eyes, his usual scowl making a quick return. “Shut up.”

Yunho chuckled, but his gaze flickered over San once more, unable to help himself. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised—San was fit, he knew that. But something about seeing him like this, outside of his usual oversized clothes and closed-off demeanor, made something shift in Yunho’s brain.

San crossed his arms. “Are we going, or are you just going to keep staring at me?”

Yunho smirked, pushing off the streetlamp. “Relax, baby, I'm just appreciating the view.”

San’s glare sharpened instantly. “Stop calling me that.”

Yunho laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Let’s go before your friend starts wondering where we are.”

San huffed but didn’t argue as they started walking toward the café. Yunho kept his hands in his pockets, sneaking one last glance at San out of the corner of his eye.

This was going to be interesting. He thought.

Despite agreeing to this whole thing, San still looked as tense as ever, his arms crossed as if he were physically holding himself together.

Yunho smirked. “You look like you’re about to walk into a battlefield.”

San shot him a glare. “Just listen.”

Yunho raised an eyebrow, amused by how serious he was. “Oh, we’re doing rules now?”

“Yes,” San said sharply. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.”

Yunho chuckled but nodded, motioning for him to continue.

“First,” San began, “just act normal. Be relaxed. Don’t make it weird.”

“Me? Weird?” Yunho gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “San-ah, I’m offended.”

San groaned. “See? That’s exactly what I mean. Just be... normal. Or at least, try to be.”

Yunho bit back another teasing comment and nodded. “Fine. I’ll be normal.”

San eyed him suspiciously but continued. “If Seonghwa or his boyfriend asks you anything, just answer casually. Be polite.”

“Got it.”

“And don’t act too cheesy,” San added quickly. “I swear, if you pull any cringy couple stuff, I will walk out right away..”

Yunho couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh? No holding hands under the table? No cute pet names?”

San’s eye twitched. “Absolutely not.”

Yunho grinned, finding it way too fun to mess with him. “Not even a little ‘baby’?”

San glared. “I will stab you.”

Yunho chuckled, but he let it go—mostly because San looked like he might actually follow through on that threat.

“Fine, no cheesy stuff. What else?” Yunho asked amused.

San exhaled, rolling his shoulders like he was trying to shake off his irritation. “If they ask about our relationship, just stick to what we told Minjeong. We’ve been dating for a couple of weeks, kept it private, and didn’t tell anyone.”

Yunho nodded. “Right. Nothing too elaborate.”

San nodded, seeming a little relieved that Yunho was actually cooperating. “Good.”

For a moment, they walked in silence, the distant hum of traffic filling the air. Yunho glanced at San again, noticing how his shoulders still held a bit of tension.

“You know,” Yunho said, his tone a bit softer, “you don’t have to be that stressed about this. It’s just a coffee.”

San scoffed, not looking at him. “Yeah. Just coffee.”

Yunho didn’t press further, but something about San’s reluctance made him curious. He still didn’t know the full story—why San needed this, why it mattered so much to him. But he figured he’d find out soon enough.

As they reached the café’s entrance, Yunho pulled open the door, stepping aside to let San in first. “Ready?”

San inhaled deeply, exhaling through his nose before giving Yunho one last sharp look. “Just don’t mess this up.”

Yunho smirked, following him inside. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ

As soon as they stepped inside the café, San’s eyes scanned the room, looking for the familiar face of Seonghwa. It didn’t take long—Seonghwa had always had this natural glow about him, the kind of presence that made him stand out effortlessly.

There he was, sitting at a table for four, engaged in quiet conversation with a man San immediately recognized as Hongjoong. They sat side by side, leaving the two seats across from them open—clearly reserved for him and Yunho.

Hongjoong-sunbaenim?

He was Seonghwa's boyfriend?

San felt his stomach twist uncomfortably.

He knew this moment was coming, but the sight of Seonghwa sitting with his boyfriend made the reality of the situation settle in. He hadn’t mentally prepared himself enough. The way Seonghwa smiled so effortlessly at Hongjoong, the way they sat just a little too close—it shouldn’t have bothered him. But it did.

Before his thoughts could spiral any further, Seonghwa’s eyes landed on him.

“San!” Seonghwa called out cheerfully, raising a hand in greeting. His face lit up with genuine excitement as if he hadn’t just shattered San’s entire perception of the world a few days ago. “Over here!”

San felt frozen for a second, his legs suddenly unwilling to move. His mind screamed at him to act normal, to walk, but everything about this felt… wrong.

Then, he felt a warm pressure against his back. A steady, reassuring touch.

San flinched slightly, looking over his shoulder just in time to see Yunho’s hand resting lightly against him, guiding him forward. His palm was warm, fingers long and steady, the weight firm but not forceful. When San glanced up, Yunho wasn’t even looking at him—he was still scanning the room casually, as if this was just a normal date. Then, noticing San’s stare, Yunho turned his head slightly and flashed him an easy smile.

Something about the gesture grounded him.

San swallowed, rolling his shoulders as subtly as he could to shake off the feeling. He took a quiet breath, allowing Yunho’s silent encouragement to push him forward.

“Hey,” San greeted as they reached the table, his voice steadier than he expected. He glanced at Hongjoong, who was watching him with a surprised expression, before forcing himself to continue. “Sorry if we’re late.”

“Not at all!” Seonghwa said, waving off the comment. “We just got here too. Come, sit!”

San slid into the seat across from Seonghwa, Yunho taking the spot next to him without hesitation. It wasn’t until he was settled that he realized—Yunho’s hand had left his back the second he sat down, as if it had only been there for that brief moment of encouragement.

San exhaled slowly, fixing his expression into something neutral.

It’s just coffee. You can survive this.

San cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat as he prepared himself for introductions. He could already feel Yunho’s casual confidence radiating beside him, while Seonghwa’s excited energy made it harder to focus. He needed to act normal. Just a normal boyfriend introducing his normal boyfriend to his normal friends.

Easy. Totally easy.

“Hyung, this is Yunho,” San said, keeping his tone neutral. “My... boyfriend.”

The word felt heavy on his tongue, like a foreign object lodged in his throat. He forced himself not to react, instead glancing at Seonghwa for his response.

Seonghwa’s eyes widened slightly, his lips parting in recognition as he looked at Yunho properly for the first time. “Oh—wait. I do know you! Well, not know you, but I remember you from school. You are always surrounded by people.”

Yunho chuckled, his easygoing grin never faltering. “Guilty. I don’t think we ever talked, though.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Seonghwa admitted, before adding playfully, “But I definitely remember seeing you around. You are kind of... hard to miss.”

Yunho smirked, clearly unbothered by the comment. “I get that a lot.”

San resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, he does.

Seonghwa beamed, looking genuinely pleased. “This is great, though! I’m glad we get to sit down like this.”

San nodded stiffly, keeping his gaze low as he braced himself for the next introduction. He didn’t need to brace for long.

“And I’m Hongjoong,” His tone was calm, but there was something in the way he said it that made San’s stomach twist. “Though, San and I already know each other.”

Yunho nodded, his expression friendly. “Yeah, I've seen you around the lab a lot. You’re a year ahead of us, right, sunbaenim?”

“Exactly,” Hongjoong replied, a small smile on his lips, though his eyes held something more... observant. San couldn’t quite place it, but it unsettled him.

The pause that followed felt weighted.

Then Hongjoong’s gaze flickered between them, and he let out a small, almost amused chuckle. “I have to admit, I never would’ve guessed it.”

San tensed. “Guessed what?”

“That you two were together,” Hongjoong said simply, resting his chin against his hand. “You’re so... different.”

San felt his heartbeat pick up, his fingers curling against his knee. Shit. He’s suspicious.

Before he could scramble for a response, Seonghwa waved a hand, dismissing the thought easily. “Oh, come on, Joongie! Opposites attract. I think they make a really cute couple.”

San’s stomach lurched. He fought to keep his expression neutral as Seonghwa beamed at them, completely oblivious to the fact that his words were only making San more anxious.

“Right,” San said quickly, forcing a tight smile. “So... should we order?”

Anything to change the subject. Anything to keep Hongjoong from looking at him like that.

Yunho, ever the natural at this, picked up a menu and leaned slightly toward San, his voice light and teasing. “Yeah, baby. What are you in the mood for?”

San stiffened. Yunho was messing with him. He’s doing this on purpose.

But as much as he wanted to shove Yunho off his chair, San knew he couldn’t let Hongjoong see any cracks in their relationship.

So instead, he exhaled slowly and leaned in just slightly, his voice low enough for only Yunho to hear.

“Enjoy this while it lasts,” San muttered, his lips barely moving. “Because I will get you back for that.”

Yunho smirked, not even bothering to hide his amusement. “Looking forward to it.”

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬

Yunho hadn’t expected to actually enjoy this. Sure, he had agreed to help San, but he figured the whole night would be awkward—maybe even painful, given how much San seemed to despise him.

But to his surprise, the date was… fun.

Not because it felt real—because it didn’t. This was all an act, a ridiculous performance they’d thrown together last-minute. But that was what made it so amusing. Yunho got to poke at San, tease him in ways he normally wouldn’t dare, and for once, San couldn’t immediately snap at him or glare daggers into his soul. Not while they had an audience.

“Do you want to try some?” Yunho asked at one point, nudging his plate toward San with a grin.

San barely glanced at him, waving him off. “No.”

“Oh, come on,” Yunho pressed, pout in mouth. “Couples share their food.”

San’s eye twitched, but he must have remembered where they were because instead of snapping at him, he forced a tight-lipped smile. “I’m good.”

Yunho sighed dramatically. “Fine, but you’re missing out.”

Across the table, Seonghwa chuckled. “You two are really cute.”

San stiffened beside him, his grip on his fork tightening. Yunho, on the other hand, merely grinned, leaning back into his chair. Yeah, this was entertaining.

But as the meal went on, Yunho found his attention shifting—not toward the conversation, but toward San himself.

At first, it was just curiosity. San was so determined to keep this lie intact, but why? What was so important about convincing Seonghwa that he was taken? The guy didn’t exactly seem like the type to care about appearances, so why had San gone through all this trouble?

Yunho watched San closely, hoping for some kind of clue.

And then he saw it.

It was subtle. A small shift in expression, a softness to his features that Yunho had never seen before. But the biggest tell was his smile.

Not the usual, sharp-edged smirk that San reserved for sarcasm. Not the tight-lipped grimace he gave when tolerating someone’s presence.

This was different.

His lips curved naturally, dimples—dimples!— on full display, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, and for the first time, Yunho realized—San actually smiles like that?

More importantly, he realized who San was smiling at.

Seonghwa.

It wasn’t just politeness. It wasn’t forced. It was genuine.

Something shifted uncomfortably in Yunho’s chest.

Yunho forced himself to take a sip of his drink, trying to shake off the odd feeling gnawing at his chest. This is ridiculous. He wasn’t sure why San’s expression—so soft, so genuine—was throwing him off, but it was.

It’s all fake. This is just a game.

He repeated it to himself like a mantra, gripping his glass a little tighter than necessary. He and San weren’t real. They weren’t even friends. This wasn’t anything but an elaborate act to get out of their own separate problems. That was all.

But then why did that look on San’s face bother him?

Needing a distraction, Yunho leaned forward slightly, directing his attention to Seonghwa. “So, how did you two become friends?”

Seonghwa brightened at the question, his gaze immediately flickering toward San, warmth evident in his smile. “Ah, Sannie and I go way back. We met in high school.”

San didn’t say anything at first, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass. He wasn’t tense exactly, but there was something in his posture that made Yunho pay closer attention.

“San was a year below me,” Seonghwa continued. “But even though we didn’t have classes together, I always noticed him. He… stood out.”

Yeah, Yunho knew what that meant.

Seonghwa’s smile softened, his voice laced with genuine fondness. “Back then, a lot of people weren’t exactly kind to him. But Sannie always held his ground. Even when people tried to bring him down, he never let them see him break.”

San let out a quiet scoff, finally speaking. “I did break, though.”

Seonghwa shook his head. “Not in the way they wanted you to.”

Yunho watched the exchange in silence, something tight settling in his chest. He had known—at least vaguely—that San wasn’t exactly happy in high school. But hearing it like this, seeing how Seonghwa looked at him with nothing but understanding, made it hit differently.

Seonghwa turned his attention back to Yunho, his expression still light but holding a weight beneath it. “I guess I just wanted to be there for him. San didn’t deserve the way people treated him.”

Yunho’s grip on his drink tightened slightly. He knew that. He had always known that.

San exhaled through his nose, giving Seonghwa a small, almost hesitant smile. “You were the only one who was.”

It was barely above a murmur, but Yunho heard it. And for some reason, it made that weird, off feeling inside him grow stronger.

He glanced at San, catching the way his expression softened—just for a second—before his usual mask of indifference slipped back into place. But in that moment, Yunho saw it. The deep-seated care San had for Seonghwa. The way he looked at him with something that wasn’t just admiration, but gratitude.

But there was something else, too. Something sad.

For the first time that night, Yunho had no urge to tease San.

Instead, he just looked away, staring at his own reflection in his drink.

And for the first time since this whole fake relationship started, Yunho wasn’t sure how he felt about it anymore.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬‬

San stirred the last remnants of his drink absentmindedly, his gaze flickering toward Yunho. Something had changed.

For most of the evening, Yunho had been his usual insufferable self—smirking, teasing, finding ways to push his buttons just enough to annoy him without giving him an excuse to snap. But at some point, that energy had faded.

Now, Yunho was quieter.

He still responded when spoken to, still smiled when necessary, but something in his expression had shifted. San wasn’t sure what, but the usual spark of amusement that Yunho carried around him like a shield had dimmed.

San frowned slightly.

Weird.

Not that he minded. If anything, it was a relief that Yunho had finally stopped messing with him. Maybe he had finally gotten bored. Good. Less for me to deal with.

“Ah, look at the time,” Hongjoong said suddenly, stretching his arms. “We have to get going soon.”

Seonghwa pouted. “Already?”

Hongjoong chuckled. “You were the one who said you wanted to go shopping after this.”

Seonghwa sighed dramatically before turning back to San and Yunho with a warm smile. “Well, I had a great time. We definitely have to do this again.”

San nodded stiffly, unsure how to respond. He had spent most of the night trying not to die inside, but if Seonghwa had enjoyed himself, then he supposed it was worth it.

“I’m really happy for you, Sannie,” Seonghwa continued, his voice filled with sincerity. “Yunho is really sweet.”

San nearly choked on his drink.

Yunho? Sweet?

He coughed slightly, but before he could correct that absurd statement, Seonghwa turned toward Yunho with a smile.

“Take good care of him, okay?” he said, and though his tone was lighthearted, his eyes were serious. “San acts all tough, but his heart is more fragile than he lets on.”

San froze.

A strange silence settled over the table, and for once, he didn’t know what to say.

He wanted to deny it, wanted to tell Seonghwa that he was wrong, that he wasn’t fragile, that he didn’t need anyone to take care of him. But the way Seonghwa looked at him—with warmth, with understanding—made it impossible to argue.

It wasn’t pity.

It was just... him knowing.

And that somehow made it worse.

San swallowed thickly, tearing his gaze away. He hated how exposed he felt in that moment.

Then, to his absolute horror, Yunho finally spoke.

“Of course,” Yunho said, his voice softer than San expected. “I’ll take care of him.”

San snapped his head up, eyes narrowing at Yunho, expecting to see amusement in his face—to see him mocking him.

But there was none of that.

Yunho wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t teasing.

He was just... looking at him.

San’s stomach twisted.

Seonghwa beamed. “I’m glad.”

Hongjoong watched the interaction in silence, but the glint in his eyes told San that he had noticed everything.

San clenched his jaw.

He needed to get out of here.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, pushing his chair back. “Let’s go.”

Seonghwa laughed, and just like that, the tension broke.

But as they all stood up and made their way outside, San couldn’t shake the strange feeling curling in his chest.

The night air was crisp against his skin, the soft hum of the city filling the silence between them. San walked with measured steps, hands stuffed into his pockets, his gaze fixed straight ahead.

He wasn’t sure what was worse—the heaviness in his chest or the silence.

Normally, silence between him and Yunho was a good thing. It meant Yunho wasn’t talking, wasn’t teasing, wasn’t being the insufferable presence that he usually was.

But this was different.

There was something thick in the air, something he couldn’t quite shake. Yunho wasn’t just quiet—he was thinking.

And San hated that.

Because it meant he was going to say something.

And, just like clockwork, Yunho did.

“Are you in love with Seonghwa?”

San’s breath hitched for a fraction of a second before he forced himself to keep walking. His steps didn’t falter, his expression didn’t shift.

But inside?

Inside, he felt like he had just been punched.

He clenched his jaw, exhaling through his nose, willing the words to roll off him like they meant nothing. He could ignore it. If he didn’t respond, Yunho would drop it.

He had to drop it.

But Yunho wasn’t the type to drop things easilylike that. 

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Yunho pressed when San didn’t answer. His voice wasn’t mocking, wasn’t teasing. It was just... curious.

San’s fingers curled inside his jacket pockets. Just ignore him.

He quickened his pace.

But Yunho kept up easily.

“Is that why you lied?” Yunho continued, his tone still unreadable. “So he wouldn’t find out?”

San felt something inside him snap.

He halted abruptly, turning toward Yunho with a sharp glare. “What do you want from me?”

Yunho didn’t look taken aback. If anything, he looked determined.

“I want to know why,” Yunho said simply. “Why go through all this trouble? Why fake a relationship just to keep up the lie?”

San’s pulse pounded in his ears. His mind screamed at him to just brush it off, to walk away, to pretend none of this was getting to him.

But Yunho was looking at him like he already knew.

And that was the worst part.

San turned away, inhaling sharply. “It doesn’t matter.”

Yunho tilted his head. “Doesn’t it?”

San exhaled, forcing his voice to stay level. “I handled it the way I wanted to. It’s none of your business.”

For a moment, Yunho didn’t say anything. Just stood there, watching him.

Then, finally, he sighed.

“Fine,” Yunho said. “If you say so.”

San didn’t know why, but that irritated him even more.

Without another word, he turned back toward the path ahead, walking without waiting for Yunho to follow.

Because if he stood there for one more second, he was afraid of what Yunho might see in him.

And that was something San wasn’t ready to face.

Chapter Text

Yunho leaned against the wall outside the lecture hall, arms crossed as he waited. Students filtered out one by one, chatting amongst themselves, their voices blending into the usual background noise of campus life. He tapped his fingers against his bicep, glancing toward the door every few seconds. Come on, Choi San…

Finally, he spotted him.

San walked out with his usual air of quiet indifference, his bag slung over one shoulder, eyes focused straight ahead as if he were determined not to acknowledge anyone. His posture was a little more rigid than usual, which Yunho couldn’t help but notice. Taking a breath, Yunho pushed off the wall and stepped into San’s path.

“Hey.”

San stopped, his gaze flickering to Yunho, but his expression remained unreadable.

“What do you want?”

Yunho let out a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wow, always so warm and welcoming.”

San sighed, shifting his weight. “I have places to be, Yunho.”

“I won’t take long.” Yunho hesitated for a moment before exhaling. “Look, about the other day… I wanted to apologize.”

San’s brows furrowed slightly, his jaw tensed, but he didn’t speak, so Yunho continued.

“I thought about it, and… you were right,” Yunho admitted. “I shouldn’t have pried into your business. You don’t dig into mine, so I should’ve given you the same respect.”

San crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t rejecting the apology, but he wasn’t accepting it either.

Yunho sighed. “I guess what I’m trying to say is… I won’t ask again. Whatever your reason is, it’s yours.”

A brief silence passed between them before San finally exhaled, tilting his head slightly. “So you do have some self-awareness.”

Yunho smirked. “Shocking, right?”

San didn’t roll his eyes, but Yunho could feel the urge was there. Still, after another beat of hesitation, San finally nodded. “Fine. Apology accepted.”

Yunho felt a small sense of relief, though it didn’t last long before San continued.

“But under one condition.”

Yunho raised an eyebrow. “Oh? We’re negotiating now?”

San ignored the sarcasm. “From now on, we don’t question each other’s business. You don’t ask about my life, and I won’t ask about yours.”

Yunho studied him for a moment, noting the edge in his voice. It was clear that San didn’t just want distance—he needed it. Whatever reasons he had for keeping things to himself, they ran deeper than Yunho had assumed.

Finally, Yunho nodded. “Deal.”

San gave a curt nod in return. “Good.”

And just like that, he walked past Yunho, continuing down the hall without another word. Yunho stayed behind, watching him go. For some reason, the exchange left him feeling… off. Maybe it was the fact that San had so readily agreed to put a wall between them. Maybe it was how quick he was to distance himself, to keep Yunho at arm’s length. Or maybe it was the nagging feeling that, despite what they just agreed on… Yunho wasn’t sure if he could actually keep his curiosity about San at bay.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬‬

San sat in the lecture hall, staring blankly at the open notebook in front of him. The professor’s voice droned on in the background, a steady hum of words that barely registered in his mind. His pen rested between his fingers, unmoving, untouched since the class had started. His thoughts were elsewhere.

More specifically, they were stuck on him.

San exhaled sharply through his nose, shifting in his seat. This is stupid. He shouldn’t be thinking about it. About him. About Yunho.

The whole thing was supposed to be simple. A clean exchange. He helped Yunho, Yunho helped him, and they went their separate ways. That was how it should be. And yet… something about their last conversation wouldn’t stop gnawing at him. San should be relieved—he was relieved. Yunho had accepted his terms, agreed to stay out of his business. That was what he wanted, right?

Then why did it feel so off?

There had been something in Yunho’s demeanor. A hesitation, a restraint, like he had more to say but chose not to. It wasn’t like Yunho at all. Usually, he had no filter, no hesitation. If he wanted to say something, he said it. But this time, he held back.

San twirled his pen between his fingers, scowling at the growing discomfort in his chest. He shouldn’t care. Yunho’s motives weren’t his concern. If anything, it was a good thing that they were setting boundaries, keeping this whole arrangement from spiraling out of control. That was what he wanted.

So why does it feel like I lost something?

San clenched his jaw, his grip tightening on the pen. This was exactly why he didn’t want to get involved with Yunho in the first place. The guy had a way of worming into people’s lives, of making his presence felt. San didn’t want that. Couldn’t have that.

Because the more involved they got, the harder it would be to remember that this was fake.

He needed Yunho to stay at a distance.

Before it was too late.

The days passed without much incident. It was almost strange how normal everything had become again. Seonghwa hadn’t brought up his supposed boyfriend in conversation lately, which was a relief. Minjeong, though still persistent, seemed to accept Yunho’s explanations for the moment, and aside from the occasional moment where they had to act the part when she was around, things had been... quiet.

San should be happy about that.

And yet—

He tapped his pen against the desk, staring blankly at the open textbook in front of him.

There was something different. Something off.

It wasn’t obvious. No one else seemed to notice. But San could feel it. Things between him and Yunho weren’t the same. Which made no sense.

Nothing had changed. They weren’t close before, and they weren’t close now. Their interactions had been limited to the moments when they had to pretend, the occasional forced eye contact in class, and the group meetings for their project.

So why did it feel different?

San scowled, gripping his pen a little tighter.

It wasn’t that Yunho was acting any differently toward him. Not really. If anything, he was still the same loud, charismatic, annoyingly charming person he had always been.

But there was a shift.

A hesitation.

It was subtle—so subtle that San wouldn’t have noticed it if he wasn’t already so hyper-aware of Yunho’s presence.

And why was that?

San didn’t want to think about it.

Didn’t want to think about the way Yunho sometimes looked at him like he was trying to figure something out. Didn’t want to think about the way their last real conversation had ended, with Yunho agreeing to stay out of his business—but something in his tone making it feel like that wasn’t entirely true.

He exhaled sharply, flipping a page in his book just for the sake of doing something. It didn’t matter. He and Yunho weren’t friends. They weren’t anything.

And that’s exactly how San wanted to keep it.

The classroom was warm, the afternoon sun streaming through the windows, casting golden light over the desks. The lazy hum of summer was in the air, a reminder that the semester was winding down. San adjusted his stance at the front of the class, glancing briefly at Yunho, who stood beside him. The presentation had gone smoothly—for the most part.

“For our project,” San started, keeping his tone steady, “we focused on the biodiversity shifts in freshwater ecosystems, specifically analyzing—”

“—the impact of seasonal changes on macroinvertebrate populations,” Yunho finished with an easy smile.

San shot him a side glance. “I was getting to that.”

Yunho raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “Just keeping us efficient.”

San rolled his eyes and continued explaining their findings, doing his best to ignore the way Yunho always found a way to push his buttons—even in the most professional setting.

Yunho, of course, wasn’t finished.

“Now, if someone hadn’t insisted on triple-checking every single data point,” Yunho said, tilting his head in San’s direction, “we might’ve finished this earlier.”

San turned to him, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe if someone else took the details seriously, we wouldn’t have had to redo half the work.”

A few quiet chuckles rippled through the class.

Professor Kim sighed, rubbing his temples. “That’s enough, you two.”

San huffed and turned back to the screen. I swear, I can’t stand him.

After they wrapped up their final points, the class gave a light round of applause. San exhaled, stepping away from the podium as Yunho did the same.

Professor Kim nodded approvingly. “Despite your... dynamic presentation style, I have to say—this was one of the best projects in the class.” San felt a sense of pride settle in his chest, though it was quickly overshadowed by the professor’s next words. “However,” Professor Kim continued, giving them both a knowing look, “I highly suggest you two work on your partnership skills. Science is collaborative, and you both could benefit from learning how to function as a team without arguing.”

San clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to glance at Yunho.

Yeah, sure. Like that’s ever going to happen.

Before dismissing them, Professor Kim gestured toward the board where the camp registration list was pinned.

“Just a reminder,” he said, “tomorrow is the last day to sign up for the summer camp. If you haven’t made a decision yet, now’s the time. It’s a great opportunity, and I encourage all of you to consider it.”

San’s stomach tensed. The camp.

He had spent the past few days not thinking about it, pushing it to the back of his mind. But now, as the deadline loomed, he couldn’t ignore it any longer. Seonghwa’s words echoed in his head—the way he had been so excited for his last summer camp, the way he had wanted San to be a part of it.

San swallowed.

He hadn’t made a decision. He should’ve made a decision by now. But the thought of spending weeks outdoors, surrounded by people, in an environment he had no real interest in...

It’s just a camp. Just a few weeks. It’s not the end of the world.

Still, the uncertainty gnawed at him. As the class wrapped up, he gathered his things, lost in thought. That was, until Yeosang nudged his arm.

“So?” Yeosang asked, watching him closely. “Are you going to sign up or not?”

San exhaled, gripping his bag strap.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, voice quieter than usual.

Yeosang didn’t push. He just nodded, as if he had expected that answer. But deep down, San knew he couldn’t keep avoiding it forever.

San lay on his bed later that evening, staring at the ceiling, the soft hum of his phone vibrating against his chest. He had seen the caller ID before answering—Seonghwa hyung. A part of him already knew what this was about.

With a sigh, he lifted the phone to his ear. “Hey.”

“San-ah!” Seonghwa’s voice came through bright and warm, as if he were genuinely happy to hear from him. “How’s my favorite introvert doing?”

San closed his eyes briefly, exhaling. “I’m fine.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Seonghwa teased, but then his tone softened. “So... did you decide yet?”

San pinched the bridge of his nose. He should have known Seonghwa wouldn’t let this go.

“I’m still thinking about it,” he muttered.

There was a pause before Seonghwa sighed dramatically. “San. Come on.”

San shifted onto his side, gripping the phone a little tighter.

“I told you, it’s not really my thing, hyung,” he said, trying to sound casual.

“I know it’s not your thing,” Seonghwa countered, “but I want you to come. Please?”

San swallowed.

He shouldn’t feel this guilty. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. He had every right to say no.

But then Seonghwa’s voice softened even more. “You’re one of my best friends, Sannie. This is my last camp before I graduate, and I really want to spend time with you.”

Something twisted in San’s chest.

Friends.

That word hurt. No matter how much he had tried to suppress it, push it down, rationalize it—there was no escaping the sting that came with hearing Seonghwa call him that.

One of his best friends.

San closed his eyes, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“Hyung...”

“Please?” Seonghwa pleaded again. “I promise it won’t be as bad as you think. You don’t have to do all the crazy activities, just... be there. For me.”

San hated how easily Seonghwa could get to him.

He opened his mouth, ready to give some half-hearted excuse, when Seonghwa suddenly added, “And if you really won’t listen to me... then I’ll just have to talk to Yunho and get him to convince you.”

San nearly choked on air.

“What?”

Seonghwa laughed. “I mean, he is your boyfriend, right? Maybe he’ll be more persuasive than me.”

San sat up abruptly, eyes wide in horror. “No, no, no—hyung, you don’t have to do that.”

“Oh?” Seonghwa hummed playfully. “So you are capable of enthusiasm.”

San groaned, running a hand down his face. If only he knew that Yunho being there was one of the biggest reasons he didn’t want to go. He had been avoiding even thinking about Yunho when considering the camp, but now that Seonghwa had said his name, the idea of spending weeks trapped in the same environment with him felt suffocating.

“Please, don't,” San muttered, trying to compose himself. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Good,” Seonghwa said brightly. “And if I don’t hear a yes soon, expect me at your dorm tomorrow.”

San sighed. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Night, San-ah.”

“Night, hyung.”

As the call ended, San flopped back onto his bed, rubbing his temples. Everything in him screamed to say no. To refuse. But now, with Seonghwa’s words weighing heavy on his chest... he wasn’t sure he could.

So, the next day, San sighed deeply as he approached the classroom, dragging his feet slightly as if that would somehow delay the inevitable. Yeosang walked beside him, hands tucked into his pockets, his usual calm demeanor a sharp contrast to San’s evident frustration.

He didn’t even hesitate when they entered—his steps carried him straight toward the sign-up sheet pinned near the professor’s desk. The list of names was already decently long, a testament to how many students were genuinely excited for this.

San, however, was not one of them.

Still, he picked up the pen and scribbled his name down.

With a defeated sigh, he let the pen drop onto the table and ran a hand through his hair. “There. Done. I hope Seonghwa is happy now.”

Behind him, Yeosang let out a soft chuckle. “You really have no hope, do you?”

San turned to glare at him. “Oh, and you would’ve said no to that sad, pleading face?”

Yeosang didn’t argue. Instead, he reached forward, picked up the pen, and—without hesitation—wrote his own name down.

San blinked.

“What—” he started, but stopped himself as realization hit. His brows furrowed. “Wait. You’re going too?”

Yeosang hummed, pocketing his hands again as he glanced at San. “Well, yeah. Someone has to make sure you don’t combust from social interaction.”

San scoffed. “I hate you.”

Yeosang smirked. “No, you don’t.”

San huffed, crossing his arms. “You said you didn’t even like this kind of thing.”

“I don’t,” Yeosang admitted. “But I’m not letting you go out there alone.”

San felt something tighten in his chest, though he quickly masked it with a dramatic sniffle. “I think I might actually cry.”

Yeosang rolled his eyes but smiled at him. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

San ignored him, throwing his arms around him in an exaggerated embrace. “You are the best of the best friends. The only friend that matters. My savior.”

Yeosang groaned but didn’t push him off. “Alright, alright.”

San grinned, but deep down, he was genuinely grateful. Maybe this camp wouldn’t be entirely unbearable after all.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬‬

From his usual seat in the classroom, Yunho leaned back slightly, arms crossed as he absentmindedly observed the movement at the front of the room. His eyes landed on San and Yeosang, standing near the professor’s desk. At first, he wasn’t paying much attention—just watching the scene unfold like he did with anything else in class. But then, San reached for the pen and, with visible reluctance, scribbled his name down on the camp sign-up sheet.

Yunho felt his lips curve into a small, amused smile. So he’s going after all.

It wasn’t entirely surprising. If anyone could guilt-trip San into something, it was Seonghwa. Yunho knew that much.

But before the amusement could settle, something else hit him. San was actually going to the camp. Which meant they’d be stuck together even more. Which meant the whole fake relationship would still be an issue. Which meant—

Yunho’s stomach twisted uncomfortably, the weight of the situation pressing down on him all at once. That small flicker of excitement—the one that had flashed through his mind at the thought of spending more time with San—was immediately crushed under the reality of their circumstances.

His jaw tightened.

What the hell was that just now? Why would he even think about something like that?

He scoffed internally, shaking off the thought as quickly as it came.

No. Absolutely not. This wasn’t about them. There was no them. San wasn’t even his friend.

So why had his stomach flipped for that split second? Why had the idea of San going to the camp felt… good?

Yunho exhaled sharply through his nose. Doesn’t matter. What mattered was the problem they were tangled up in. This fake relationship. The mess they were still knee-deep in. If anything, San going to the camp was going to make things worse, not better.

He shook his head, forcing himself to refocus.

This isn’t something to be happy about, Jeong Yunho. Get a grip.

And with that, he straightened up, tearing his gaze away from San and Yeosang, acting as if none of this had affected him at all.

Later that evening, Yunho found himself sitting with his friends in the dorm lounge, the air buzzing with excitement as they discussed the upcoming camp.

“Man, I can’t wait,” Mingi grinned, stretching his arms above his head. “A full summer outdoors? This is gonna be amazing.”

Wooyoung scoffed. “Yeah, for you. Some of us actually enjoy civilization.”

Jongho chuckled. “Then why are you even going?”

Wooyoung shrugged. “I don’t know, for the experience? For science?” He smirked. “For the guys?”

Jongho groaned. “Of course.”

The lounge filled with laughter and easy conversation, everyone brimming with excitement over the upcoming trip. Yunho leaned back on the couch, pretending to listen as Mingi and Jongho started debating over who would be the first to fail at setting up a tent.

“It’s definitely Wooyoung,” Jongho said without hesitation.

“Excuse me?” Wooyoung scoffed, putting a hand to his chest. “I’ll have you know I am very capable of assembling things.”

Jongho shot him a flat look. “You couldn’t even put together your own bookshelf last semester.”

“That was different!” Wooyoung huffed. “The manual was in Swedish.”

“It was in English, Woo.”

Mingi snorted. “Yeah, I remember having to go rescue him from that disaster. He was just seated on the floor trying to read the manual.”

Wooyoung threw a pillow at him. “I don’t have to sit here and take this abuse.”

Yunho chuckled, shaking his head. Normally, he’d be fully engaged in their banter, egging them on with his own teasing remarks. But his mind was elsewhere. Still thinking about it.

San is going to the camp.

It was a simple fact. Nothing world-changing. Just another student signing up.

Then why did it feel big?

Yunho tapped his fingers against his knee, tuning out the noise around him as his thoughts drifted.

Logically, it didn’t matter. This whole thing with San was temporary—a ridiculous arrangement built on nothing but mutual necessity. But something about the camp made it feel more real. Out there, it wouldn’t just be their usual routine of avoiding each other except when necessary. They’d be stuck together. No separate dorms, no easy escape routes. Just the wilderness and way too much forced proximity.

And that wasn’t even the worst part.

Yunho exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his hair.

The real problem was himself.

He didn’t know what it was about San that threw him off balance. Maybe it was the way he was so different from everyone Yunho usually dealt with. Maybe it was the way he looked at people—at Seonghwa—with such quiet intensity that Yunho couldn’t help but feel something strange in his chest. Maybe it was just the fact that Yunho had never been someone San liked, and for some reason, that bothered him more than it should.

“Alright, let’s talk essentials,” Mingi said, snapping Yunho out of his thoughts. “What’s everyone bringing?”

“Bug spray,” Jongho said immediately. “So I don’t die.”

“A knife,” Wooyoung grinned. “For survival.”

Jongho gave him a look. “What exactly are you planning to survive?”

“You never know!” Wooyoung shrugged. “Maybe we’ll get abandoned in the forest, and I’ll be the only one prepared.”

“Right, because you, the guy who lost a battle to a bookshelf, will be our great wilderness hero,” Mingi teased.

Wooyoung ignored him and turned to Yunho. “What about Yunho? What’s your camp must-have?”

Yunho blinked, trying to pull himself back into the moment.

“My sanity?” he muttered without thinking.

That earned a round of laughter from the guys.

Mingi smirked. “Oh yeah, you’re definitely gonna need that with your boyfriend around.”

Yunho groaned. “Don’t.”

Wooyoung grinned mischievously. “No promises.”

Jongho snickered. “Seriously, though, how’s that gonna work? You and San in the same camp, pretending to be all in love? That requires some dedication.”

“It’s fine,” Yunho said quickly, though his own confidence in that statement was questionable.

Mingi raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. You sound very convinced.”

“I am convinced.” Yunho huffed, crossing his arms. “It’s just for show. We’ll handle it fine.”

Wooyoung leaned in, resting his chin on his hand. “And by we, you mean you and that San?”

Yunho sighed, running a hand down his face. “Just—don’t make this more complicated than it already is.”

His friends exchanged amused glances, but thankfully, they didn’t push further.

“Well, I, for one, can’t wait to see how this plays out,” Wooyoung grinned. “This trip just got a whole lot more interesting.”

Yunho rolled his eyes.

Yeah. That’s what I’m afraid of.

The classroom buzzed with restless energy, students already anticipating the summer ahead. The heat of early June filtered through the open windows, and Yunho could practically feel the excitement in the air. At the front of the room, Professor Kim Yonghwan tapped the whiteboard lightly, signaling for attention. The murmurs gradually died down as he addressed the class.

“Alright, before we finish today, I have some announcements,” the professor began. “As you all know, summer is here, and that means two things—vacation for most of you, and the summer camp for the rest.”

There was a clear split in reactions—some sighed in relief that they wouldn’t be participating, while others, including Yunho, sat up a little straighter, eager for details.

“If you’re not attending,” Professor Kim continued, “then this is your last class before summer break. I’ll see you all in six weeks. Enjoy your summer.”

Some students cheered softly, already gathering their things to leave.

“But,” he added, his gaze shifting toward the few remaining students, “if you are attending, stay where you are. We have a few things to discuss.”

The room emptied out as half the students filed out, leaving behind only those who had signed up for the trip. The chatter settled, and Yunho glanced around, catching glimpses of familiar faces—Mingi, Wooyoung, Jongho… and, of course, San and Yeosang, who sat a few rows behind. San, as expected, looked thoroughly unenthused.

Professor Kim cleared his throat, drawing their focus back to him.

“Now that we’re all here, let’s get into the details.” He turned toward the board, picking up a marker. “First of all, this year’s camp will be located in the Jirisan Mountains. It’s a remote area with dense forests, rivers, and plenty of biodiversity. Ideal for research and fieldwork.”

“Sounds amazing,” Mingi whispered beside him.

Meanwhile, San visibly stiffened, his jaw tightening at the mention of “remote.”

Professor Kim continued, “For those of you who’ve heard stories about past camps, I’ll remind you—each year is different. So don’t assume you know what to expect.”

A few students exchanged glances. It was true that past students had shared their experiences, but every time, the camp setup changed.

“This year,” the professor went on, “we’ll be stationed in four different base camps. There will be around 200 students total, but not all of you will be in one place. Each base will house roughly 50 people, but don’t worry—you’ll still have opportunities to interact with the others.”

Yunho hummed in thought. That’s a whole lot of people.

Professor Kim continued, “The camp will last for four weeks. You’ll have structured activities related to your coursework—field research, environmental observations, and team projects. But we also encourage recreation and team-building.”

Wooyoung perked up at that. “Does that mean we get free time?”

The professor gave a small nod. “To an extent. There will be guided activities, but you’ll also have time to explore, hike, or just relax.” That seemed to satisfy most people. “Final details, including camp assignments and supply lists, will be given next week. For now, just be prepared for an early departure the morning we leave. Any questions?”

A few hands shot up, and the professor began answering logistics inquiries. Yunho shifted in his seat, arms crossed as he listened to Professor Kim.

Normally, he’d be thrilled about something like this—four weeks out in nature, hands-on experience with real field research, and a break from the usual classroom environment. It was exactly the kind of thing that made him fall in love with studying biology in the first place.

And yet, beneath that excitement, there was something else. A quiet, nagging tension sitting at the back of his mind. It wasn’t hard to pinpoint the cause.

His eyes flickered briefly to the back of the room—to the usual corner where San sat. And as if sensing it, San looked up at that exact moment.

Their gazes locked.

It wasn’t long—just a second, maybe even less—but it was long enough.

Long enough for something to twist uncomfortably in Yunho’s stomach. Long enough for his breath to catch just slightly.

Then, almost in sync, they both looked away.

Yunho exhaled sharply, forcing himself to refocus on what the professor was saying.

Get it together, he scolded himself.

This was just a stupid deal. A lie. A temporary arrangement.

But the reality of sharing a camp with San for a whole month was starting to settle in.

There wouldn’t be casual classroom encounters or fleeting moments in passing anymore. They would be in the same environment, day and night. No easy ways to avoid each other. No space to pretend the situation wasn’t what it was. And worse—Yunho wasn’t sure what unsettled him more: the logistics of it all... or the fact that part of him wasn’t entirely dreading it.

His grip on his pen tightened. No. Stop that.

This wasn’t something to be excited about. If anything, it was complicated. And Yunho had never been the type to shy away from complications, but this—this—felt different.

He tore his eyes away from the back of the classroom, grounding himself in the professor’s words.

There was no point in overthinking this now.

Four weeks.

That was all it was.

Four weeks.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬‬

San had known this camp would be a disaster, but somehow, hearing the actual details of it made it so much worse. Four weeks. Two hundred people.

San clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around the edge of his desk. What the hell had he gotten himself into? He could already picture the absolute circus this was going to become. Four weeks of pretending. Four weeks of Minjeong’s prying eyes. Four weeks of Seonghwa believing his stupid lie.

And worst of all—four weeks of Yunho.

San exhaled through his nose, willing himself to stay calm. There was no way out of it now. He had made his decision. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Then, as if the universe wanted to make things even worse, he felt something shift in the air. A gaze. San’s eyes flickered up, and—

His chest tensed.

Yunho was looking at him.

Their eyes met across the room, and for a second—just one, brief, unbearable second—San felt something stir inside him. It was small, barely noticeable. A quick, unexpected jolt in his chest. A reaction he didn’t understand and absolutely did not want to investigate. Then, just as quickly, they both looked away. San forced himself to focus on the professor’s words, but his mind was already spinning.

Why the hell was Yunho looking at me?

It wasn’t an accident. Yunho had searched for him. Why?

San swallowed, gripping his pen so tightly his knuckles turned white. As if he didn’t already have enough to stress about, now he had this too. This is going to be a nightmare.

Fortunately, they'd have a week of vacation before the camp started, logically, San went home to rest and forget about the whole college world for a few days before his nightmare began. San lay sprawled on his bed, staring at the ceiling as his phone rested against the pillow beside him. The video call was still ongoing, Seonghwa’s excited voice filling the room while Yeosang hummed lazily in response every now and then.

“Come on, San-ah,” Seonghwa insisted, his face bright on the screen. “It’s going to be amazing. You have no idea how much fun you’ll have once you’re actually there.”

San groaned dramatically, rolling onto his stomach and pressing his face into the mattress. “I already know how much fun I’ll have, hyung—zero fun. None. Negative fun. I should just stay home.”

“But you can’t stay home,” Seonghwa pouted. “You already signed up.”

“That was a moment of weakness,” San mumbled into the sheets.

Yeosang snorted. “A moment of manipulation.”

Seonghwa gasped in fake offense. “Excuse me! I simply encouraged him.”

San lifted his head just enough to glare at the screen. “You emotionally blackmailed me. You even used the boyfriend card.”

Seonghwa waved him off. “Details, details.”

San flopped back onto his pillow, pouting at the screen. “I just don’t see the appeal. People, dirt, uncomfortable sleeping arrangements, no phone reception—why would anyone willingly sign up for that?”

“You might end up liking it,” Seonghwa said, voice sweet. “You know Hongjoong was the exact same way. Hated the idea at first, and now? He loves it. He even looks forward to it.”

San made a face. “Yeah, well. Hongjoong and I are not the same.”

Seonghwa chuckled. “We’ll see.”

Yeosang, who had been mostly silent, finally stretched and sighed. “I mean… I don’t love the idea either, but it’s not like we can back out now.”

“Exactly,” Seonghwa nodded. “So, San, you might as well just accept your fate.”

San groaned again, dragging a hand down his face. “I hate this, and I hate both of you.”

Seonghwa and Yeosang grinned at him through the screen.

“No, you don’t,” they said in unison.

San sighed in defeat, staring up at the ceiling again.

There was no getting out of this.

And then, the day had come. It goes without saying San didn't get to sleep at all that night. San sat at the dining table, lazily stirring his cereal while his sister leaned against the counter, grinning at him like she had just uncovered the world’s funniest joke.

“I still can’t believe it,” she said, shaking her head in exaggerated disbelief. “San—my brother—is willingly going to socialize for an entire month. In the wild. With people.”

San groaned, shoving another spoonful of cereal into his mouth just to avoid answering.

“Oh, come on,” she pressed, her smirk widening. “The guy who locks himself in his room reading research papers for fun is voluntarily spending four weeks surrounded by loud, sweaty university students? You? Really?”

San swallowed and shot her a glare. “I don’t read research papers for fun.”

She raised an eyebrow.

San sighed. “Okay, fine. Sometimes. But that’s not the point.”

His mother, who had been watching the exchange while setting down plates, finally intervened with an amused chuckle. “Haneul, leave him alone,” she said to his sister, shaking her head. “It’s already a miracle he agreed to go. Don’t make him regret it before he even gets on the bus.”

San’s sister threw her hands up in surrender, though the grin never left her face. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave.”

His mom then turned to him, a softer expression on her face. “But, San-ah… are you sure about this?”

San hesitated for just a second before exhaling. “I don’t really have a choice anymore. I already signed up.”

His mom gave him a knowing look, as if she could tell there was more to the story, but she didn’t push. “Alright,” she said with a nod. “Just try to enjoy it, okay?”

San gave a small, reluctant shrug. “I’ll… survive.”

His sister snorted. “Barely.”

San rolled his eyes, ignoring her.

A few hours later, San stood outside the car, watching as his parents unloaded his bag from the trunk. The university entrance was buzzing with movement, students gathered in groups, chatting excitedly as several large buses lined the curb, ready to transport them to the mountains. San exhaled slowly. No turning back now.

His mother patted his arm gently. “Stay safe, sweetie. And please call if you need anything.” His mother said worriedly.

His dad nodded, giving his shoulder a firm squeeze. “Don’t get eaten by a bear.”

San sighed. “Why does everyone think I’m going to die in the woods?”

His sister smirked. “Because you are clumpsy and a nerd. The nerd always dies.”

San shot her an unamused look before turning to his parents. “I’ll be fine. It’s just four weeks.”

His mother smiled, though her eyes still held a hint of worry. “Just… take care of yourself, San-ah.”

“I will,” he assured her.

After a few more goodbyes, San slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way toward the meeting area, where Yeosang was already waiting.

The closer he got to the buses, the more the reality of the situation settled in.

Four weeks.

One camp.

And way too many complications waiting for him.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬‬

Yunho stretched his arms as he stepped out of the car, the early summer breeze ruffling his hair. The campus was already buzzing with students gathering near the buses, some chatting excitedly, others groggily adjusting to the early morning departure.

“Don’t forget to call your mom,” his father reminded him from the driver’s seat.

“I will,” Yunho promised, flashing his usual easy smile. “See you in a month.”

Mingi hopped out of the back seat, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Man, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” he said, grinning. “A whole month in the wild.”

Yunho laughed, nudging him playfully. “You sound like we’re about to go on some life-changing survival mission.”

Mingi smirked. “For some people, this will be survival.”

Yunho rolled his eyes, but he knew exactly what Mingi meant. Not everyone was looking forward to this trip. For Yunho, though, the past week had been a break—a much-needed one. No university stress. No Minjeong hovering around him. No tangled mess of a fake relationship hanging over his head. And most importantly— No San.

He honestly couldn’t remember the last time they had even talked, other than group project-related conversation. Not that it mattered. The arrangement had become less demanding as the semester wrapped up, and with finals and other distractions, they had slipped into an unspoken truce of avoidance. And Yunho had been fine with that. It was a relief, actually. So why, as he scanned the crowd, did his gaze immediately land on him?

San stood a few meters away, his back turned as he exchanged goodbyes with his parents. His mother gave him one final word of advice—San nodded stiffly in return—before he adjusted the strap of his bag and turned toward the buses, where Yeosang was waiting.

Yunho found himself watching.

For no reason.

Absolutely no reason.

San looked the same as always—his usual neutral expression, his dark hair slightly tousled from the breeze. There was nothing particularly different about him. But for some damn reason, Yunho’s mind drifted.

He thought about how this meant four weeks of sharing a space with him. How they would have to keep up the act if the situation called for it. How—whether he wanted to or not—San would be a presence in his life for the next month. And that meant Yunho couldn’t just pretend none of this was happening anymore.

He exhaled sharply, tearing his eyes away before Mingi could notice his distraction.

It’s fine, he told himself. You’ve had a break. You’re refreshed. This is just another part of the plan. Then why did it feel like something was about to change?

The area around the buses was filled with drowsy students, some standing around chatting while others were still waking up from the early morning departure. Yunho and Mingi spotted their group easily—Wooyoung was slouched against his luggage, looking half-dead, while Jongho stood beside him, arms crossed and an amused smirk on his face.

“Look at him,” Jongho said the moment they approached. “Pathetic.”

“Shut up,” Wooyoung mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “This is inhumane. Who in their right mind forces college students to function at this hour?”

Jongho scoffed. “It’s literally seven in the morning.”

“Exactly.”

Mingi snickered. “Maybe if you didn’t stay up past two watching K-dramas, you wouldn’t be struggling.”

Wooyoung groaned, slumping further against his suitcase. “I regret nothing.”

Yunho grinned, shaking his head as he set his bag down. It was nice, this normalcy—just his friends messing around like always.

But before he could get too comfortable, Professor Kim Yonghwan’s voice rang out across the crowd.

“Everyone, gather in front of your assigned bus!”

The chatter shifted as students started moving toward their designated groups. Yunho, along with Mingi, Wooyoung, and Jongho, followed the flow toward the bus labeled for third-year students.

Professor Kim stood nearby with a clipboard, checking off names as people arrived. Yunho stood near the front, waiting as his friends continued to joke around, but his attention was suddenly pulled elsewhere. A familiar figure in the crowd.

Minjeong.

Yunho’s stomach immediately knotted.

She hadn’t noticed him yet—her back was turned as she spoke to one of her friends—but the second she did, he knew she’d make a beeline for him. And he was not in the mood for that.

Without thinking, his eyes instinctively searched for an escape. And that’s when they landed on San standing not far from his own group, San was with Yeosang, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable as he stared off toward the buses. Yunho didn’t give himself time to hesitate. He moved.

Before he even fully processed the action, he was standing next to San—closer than he had been in weeks.

And then, without thinking, he took San’s hand.

San flinched, his body going stiff.

“What the—”

But before he could react further, Yunho subtly squeezed his fingers, tilting his head slightly in Minjeong’s direction.

San followed his gaze—and instantly understood.

Minjeong was approaching.

San tensed, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers curled just slightly around Yunho’s, his grip firming as he adjusted his stance. Yunho felt his own pulse quicken at the contact. It had been so long since they had done this—since he had to play pretend like this.

And yet, the way his heart pounded in his chest wasn’t normal.

It wasn’t acting.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to breathe.

Focus, Yunho.

Minjeong was almost there. Now, all they had to do was sell it. Minjeong’s voice rang out as she approached, her usual bright smile in place.

“Well, well,” she mused, eyes flickering between Yunho and San. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you two together.”

Yunho forced a laugh, scratching the back of his head. “Ah, yeah… well, you probably haven’t seen either of us much. We were pretty busy with final projects and all that.”

He felt the sweat gathering between his palm and San’s—his grip still firm, their fingers loosely intertwined.

Does he feel that? Of course, he does.

But if San did notice, he didn’t react. He just stood there, stiff as ever, his gaze trained on Minjeong like he was waiting for her next move. Minjeong tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable.

Yunho swallowed.

She was still suspicious. That much was clear. But at least, this time, she wasn’t pressing as hard as before. Maybe—just maybe—the camp would be enough to finally get her to back off. The thought alone was relieving.

Then Minjeong’s smile widened. “I’m really looking forward to the trip,” she said lightly, turning her gaze to Yunho, she moved a step closer to him. “It’ll be nice to have more time together, Yunho.”

Yunho barely had a chance to react before San, in the driest tone imaginable, cut in.

“He won’t be the only one there.”

Minjeong turned to San, her lips pursing slightly. “Oh, of course not.”

San’s eyes remained sharp, his grip on Yunho’s hand firm but unwavering.

Yunho didn’t know what was more surprising—that San had spoken up at all, or that the way he said it made Yunho’s chest tighten slightly. Either way, the tension in the air was real. And Yunho wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand it. 

Just as the tension in the air was reaching an unbearable level, Professor Kim clapped his hands together, raising his voice above the murmurs of the crowd.

“Alright, everyone! Start boarding the bus—we need to leave on time.”

There was a shuffle of movement as students began making their way toward the bus. Yunho barely had time to react before he felt a sudden tug on his arm.

“Come on,” San muttered, already pulling him forward. “Unless you want to get stuck in the worst seat.”

Yunho blinked, momentarily thrown off. Did San just—

He didn’t have time to dwell on it.

San was already leading the way toward the bus, his grip firm as if he wasn’t even thinking about what he was doing. Yunho stumbled slightly before following, catching sight of Yeosang quietly trailing behind them.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Minjeong move as well, her steps light as she called out, “Yunho, let’s sit close!”

Yunho stiffened.

But before he could even consider how to handle that, San handled it for him again.

The moment they stepped onto the bus, San didn’t hesitate—he walked straight to the back, claiming one of the last seats, sliding into the spot by the window.

Yunho, still processing what was happening, felt himself being pulled along yet again. By the time he sat down next to San, he realized just how well this had worked out.

Yeosang took the seat across from them, looking thoroughly unsurprised by the situation. Then, as if on cue, Wooyoung, Mingi, and Jongho filled the remaining spots around them. And just like that Minjeong was effectively cut off from sitting anywhere near Yunho.

She lingered near the front for a moment, clearly irritated by how fast the seats had filled. After a pause, she finally sat somewhere else, though Yunho could still feel her gaze lingering.

He exhaled quietly.

That was way too close.

He turned slightly toward San, who had already put his headphones in, staring out the window like none of this had happened.

Yunho shook his head, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

For someone who supposedly hates me, he sure knows how to get me out of trouble.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬‬

San exhaled slowly, leaning his head against the cool glass of the bus window.

One month.

One month of this.

Of pretending. Of dealing with unnecessary drama. Of navigating a social nightmare that he had no business being a part of. He had already resigned himself to his fate. There was no backing out now. So, if he had to survive this, he’d at least make it manageable. And that meant helping Yunho. Because the sooner they got rid of Minjeong’s suspicions, the sooner he could have his peace.

Well—relative peace. There was still Seonghwa. San sighed, closing his eyes. That’s a future problem. Right now, he just needed to sleep.

The steady hum of the bus filled the air as Professor Kim did a final roll call, ensuring everyone was accounted for before they finally set off. San shifted slightly, trying to settle in. He was determined to sleep through as much of this trip as possible. But, of course, Yunho had other plans.

“Hey.”

San cracked one eye open, already regretting his life choices.

Yunho was looking at him—not smug, not teasing. Just… normal.

San blinked, waiting.

Yunho exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, thanks. You know, for earlier.”

San didn’t respond.

“I mean,” Yunho continued, his tone casual, “you didn’t have to do that, so…”

San sighed. “I know.”

A beat of silence. Then—

“And, uh—sorry,” Yunho added, glancing down briefly. “For, you know. Grabbing your hand like that.”

San gave him a flat look. “You are aware that we’ve done this before, right?”

Yunho chuckled. “Yeah, but still. It was sudden.”

San rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Just don’t make this trip harder than it already is.”

Yunho lifted a brow. “Me? I should be telling you that.”

San scoffed. “As long as you keep your end of the deal, I’ll keep mine. No unnecessary complications. No interfering. That's what we agreed on, isn't it?”

Yunho held his gaze for a moment before nodding, a small, almost forced smile playing on his lips.

“That's right.”

San hummed in acknowledgment and finally closed his eyes again, hoping for at least a few hours of sleep. Because if this was only the beginning, he was going to need all the energy he could get.

And, that way they parted.

The bus rumbled along the road, the steady vibration lulling San into an uninterrupted sleep. For three blissful hours, he had managed to tune out the world—blocking out the chatter, the occasional bursts of laughter from Yunho’s friends, and the general noise of a bus filled with university students.

His noise-canceling headphones had been a blessing, shielding him from everything he wanted to ignore. The exhaustion of the past few days, mixed with the dull hum of the moving vehicle, had made it surprisingly easy to rest. But all good things came to an end.

San stirred slightly, his body shifting in an attempt to stretch. He blinked, eyes adjusting to the dimmed light inside the bus as he took in his surroundings.

Still the same crowded space. Still the same voices. Still the same mistake of getting himself into this mess.

He sighed, rolling his shoulders—only to freeze.

Something was heavy.

Something was leaning on him.

San’s breath hitched as he turned his head ever so slightly. And that’s when he saw it.

Yunho.

Asleep.

On his shoulder.

San went rigid.

What. The. Hell.

His entire body locked in place as his mind scrambled to process the situation. Yunho’s head was tilted slightly, his blond hair falling messily over his forehead. His cheek squished against San's shoulder. His breathing was slow, even. Completely at ease. And he was—holy shit—actually resting against San like it was the most natural thing in the world.

San felt warmth crawl up his neck, an unfamiliar and very unwelcome sensation twisting in his stomach. What is he doing?! Why!?

He should move. He needed to move. But for some reason, his body refused to cooperate.

Instead, he just sat there—frozen, tense, pulse way faster than it should be. San swallowed hard, carefully glancing around to see if anyone else had noticed. Yeosang, seated across the aisle from them, was scrolling through his phone, completely unbothered. Yunho’s friends were too busy entertaining themselves to pay attention.

Good.

No one was watching.

He could fix this.

Just… slowly shift away. Casually. No sudden movements. No waking up Yunho and making this weirder than it already was. San inhaled deeply, preparing to move— But then Yunho sighed in his sleep, tilting his head slightly, settling even closer against San’s shoulder. His eyes moved like a flash to Yunho's lips. San’s breath caught. And all thoughts of escape vanished.

San’s entire body remained rigid, his muscles locked in place as if any sudden movement would explode the situation.

What the hell are you doing!? Just stay still. Don’t react.

He told himself it was fine. That this was nothing.

But every passing second felt like an eternity with the steady weight of Yunho’s head resting against him. San could hear his own heartbeat, the rhythmic thump loud in his ears, and it was pissing him off. Why was he reacting like this? It wasn’t like Yunho was doing it on purpose. San exhaled slowly through his nose, forcing himself to remain impassive. But then—

The voice of Professor Kim cut through the bus.

“We’ll be making a stop in five minutes! Everyone, wake up and stretch your legs.”

San’s stomach dropped. Because of course that meant—

Yunho stirred.

San felt the weight on his shoulder shift, the slow drag of movement as Yunho stretched with a quiet groan. San kept his eyes firmly glued to the window, his lips pressed into a thin line. He was not going to look. Nope. Not happening.

Yunho blinked a few times, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before shifting in his seat. There was a brief moment of silence before he seemed to realize what had just happened.

“Oh, shit—” Yunho sat up quickly, turning to San with wide eyes. “Did I—? I mean, I didn’t mean to—”

San still refused to look at him.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, his voice clipped. “Just—don’t make a big deal out of it.”

Yunho hesitated, red color rapidly spreading to his neck, before scratching the back of his head. “Right. Uh… sorry, though.”

San finally turned, just enough to shoot him a glare. “I said don’t make a big deal.”

Yunho held up his hands in surrender, a sheepish grin on his face. “Not making a big deal. Got it.”

Unfortunately, their conversation had caught the attention of one particularly nosy individual.

“Oh?” Wooyoung smirked from the seat in front of them, leaning over dramatically. “Something happening with our favorite couple?”

San visibly stiffened.

Yunho sighed, avoiding his friend's gaze. “Wooyoung, shut up.”

Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows. “What? I’m just checking in on you two. You were awfully cozy back there.”

San shot him a glare. “Mind your own business.”

Jongho, sitting next to Wooyoung, laughed. “Leave him alone before he actually kills you.”

Wooyoung chuckled, but backed off—though the smug amusement never left his face.

San exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples.

It was going to be a long month.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬‬

The rest of the bus ride was painfully long.

Not because of the distance—he had been on longer trips before—but because of the tension radiating off San like a damn force field.

Ever since Yunho had woken up to find himself leaning on him, San had been unnaturally stiff, barely moving, barely speaking, like even breathing next to Yunho was a burden.

And the worst part?

No matter what Yunho did—whether he shifted to give him more space, leaned back to avoid touching him, or even made himself smaller in his own damn seat—San just kept getting more tense. It was honestly impressive.

At one point, Yunho considered making some stupid joke just to see if that would break the ice. But one glance at San’s stony expression made him think otherwise. So, he gave up. Maybe it was resignation, maybe it was frustration, but either way, Yunho had to accept the obvious truth:

Choi San really, truly, genuinely could not stand him.

For some reason, that realization made Yunho want to laugh.

Eventually, the bus began slowing down, and murmurs of excitement filled the air. Yunho straightened up, stretching his arms before looking out the window. The scenery had completely changed.

Thick green trees stretched endlessly in every direction, the deep hues of summer creating a dense, rich forest that surrounded a large clearing where multiple buses were now parking. The camp was huge.

The fresh mountain air, the open sky, the distant sound of a river running somewhere nearby—Yunho felt his body instantly relax. This was his kind of place.

The moment the bus came to a full stop, students started shifting in their seats, some groaning from the long ride, others eagerly standing to grab their things.

“Ugh,” Wooyoung exhaled dramatically from the seat ahead. “I hate long bus rides. My ass is sore and my back is killing me.”

Jongho snorted. “That’s because you sat like a shrimp the whole time.”

Wooyoung shot him a glare. “It’s called being comfortable.”

Yunho chuckled at their bickering, momentarily distracted from his own dilemma. Then, his gaze flickered to San.

San, who still looked like he wanted to disappear into the seat.

San, who still refused to acknowledge him.

Yunho exhaled quietly, running a hand through his hair.

Well, this is going to be fun.

He forced a casual smile, adjusting his bag as he stood up. No matter what was going on between them, they still had an act to keep up. Especially with Minjeong somewhere nearby.

The moment San stepped off the bus, he immediately went to Yeosang who left first.

It wasn’t even a hesitation. Not a glance back. Not a moment’s pause. Just a direct beeline to his person, the one person he actually wanted to be around.

Yunho sighed, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder. He didn’t need to hear what they were saying to know the topic of discussion. San’s face alone told him everything. He was pissed.

Probably about me, Yunho thought dryly.

Which—fine. That wasn’t anything new. But for some reason, as Yunho watched them talk—watched the way Yeosang listened with quiet understanding, the way San let himself relax around him—it stung.

And Yunho hated that it stung.

Because it shouldn’t. It wasn’t like he cared. San had never liked him, and that was just how things had always been. Nothing had changed. And yet—

Something about the way San avoided him now felt different. Because Yunho had been trying. Trying to help. Trying to be decent. Trying to, at the very least, coexist without making things worse.

And still, San hated him. For what? For existing? For daring to fall asleep on his shoulder? For pretending to be his boyfriend when San was the one who needed him for his lie too?

It was frustrating.

It was infuriating.

Yunho wanted to be mad. But instead, all he felt was a dull ache in his chest. Because no matter how much he tried to justify it, deep down, he knew. It wasn’t that he wanted San to like him. It was that he didn’t understand why he didn’t.

Yunho exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he turned back to his own group. Forget it. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t in love with San. He just—

Just what?

Yunho frowned, forcing the thought out of his head. He just wanted to be his friend. That was all.

And if San didn’t want that, then so be it.

Yunho wasn’t going to waste his time chasing after someone who clearly wanted nothing to do with him.

Even if it bothered him more than it should.

San barely felt his feet touch the ground as he hurried off the bus, his heartbeat still uneven, his mind racing. He needed to breathe. More importantly, he needed to rant.

His eyes immediately found Yeosang standing near the luggage area, waiting patiently like always. Without hesitation, San stomped over, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“Yeosang.”

Yeosang barely had time to blink before San was grabbing his arm, pulling him a few steps away from the others. Yeosang let it happen, his expression calm but knowing.

San inhaled sharply, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“I hate him,” he blurted out.

Yeosang sighed. “Uh-huh.”

“No, you don’t understand,” San continued, pacing slightly. “I really hate him. He’s infuriating.”

Yeosang raised an eyebrow. “What did he do now?”

San groaned, stopping in place as he crossed his arms. “He fell asleep on me.”

A beat of silence.

“…And?”

San scowled. “And? His face was right there, Yeosang! I could feel his breath right on my neck. I could see his stupid face and his peaceful expression like he didn’t have a single damn worry in the world. And—and my heart—” He cut himself off, jaw tightening.

Yeosang’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Your heart… what?”

San averted his gaze. “It—nothing.”

Yeosang exhaled, tilting his head slightly as if examining him. “Did it speed up?”

San glared. “That’s not the point.”

“So it did.”

“I hate this.”

Yeosang smiled lightly, completely unfazed.

San turned away sharply, gripping his arms tighter against his chest.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he muttered. “He’s so annoying. I can’t even look at him without remembering everything—high school, this stupid fake relationship, that dumb thing he did earlier, and yet—” He stopped again, scowling at the ground.

Yeosang watched him quietly.

San clenched his jaw. “And yet my stupid heart betrays me.”

Yeosang hummed thoughtfully. “Interesting.”

San shot him a glare. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“That wasn’t a nothing tone, Yeosang.”

Yeosang shrugged, expression unreadable.

San narrowed his eyes. He knew that look—Yeosang was hiding something.

But what?…Pity?

San scoffed, rolling his eyes. “What? You feel bad for me now?”

Yeosang was quiet for a moment before calmly  shaking his head. “No.”

San stared at him suspiciously. Something about the way Yeosang was looking at him—like he knew something San didn’t—made his stomach churn. But before he could press further, Yeosang simply patted his shoulder.

“Let’s go,” he said simply, turning away.

San hesitated, still feeling unsettled, but ultimately followed.

Whatever it was Yeosang wasn’t saying—San didn’t want to know. He had enough problems.

The sun hung high in the sky, casting golden light over the vast clearing as the students gathered in the center of the campsite. The air buzzed with excitement and chatter, but San barely paid attention. He was too busy mentally preparing himself for whatever fresh hell awaited him next.

Professor Kim and the other instructors stood in front of the crowd, their voices carrying over the field as they explained how things would be organized.

“The campsite is divided into four main areas,” Professor Kim began, gesturing toward a large map on a wooden stand. “Each area will host about fifty people.”

San’s eyes skimmed over the designated zones.

One near the river. One deeper into the forest. One farther up the mountain. And one slightly more central, closer to the main facilities.

“The main facilities—including the dining hall, bathrooms, and storage cabins—are here at the center of the camp,” another professor added, pointing to the small illustrated buildings on the map. “All groups will meet here daily for breakfast, instructions, and assigned activities.”

San crossed his arms. Fine.

“And lastly,” Professor Kim continued, “students will be assigned to tents in groups of ten. These are large, durable tents, so don’t worry about space. You can choose your own group, or if you prefer, we’ll assign one at random.”

A murmur spread through the students, followed by several voices calling out, “We’ll group up ourselves.”

San exhaled slowly.

That was… good. He could just stick with Yeosang and a few other quiet people and minimize the amount of chaos he had to deal with. But before that relief could even settle—

“San, Yeosang, let’s be in the same tent!”

San’s stomach dropped.

He barely had time to react before Seonghwa appeared from the crowd and walked to his side, his smile bright, his hand grabbing San’s arm before he could escape.

“We should all group together,” Seonghwa continued excitedly, gesturing toward Hongjoong, Yeosang, and Yunho’s friends. “It’ll be fun!”

San’s lips parted, ready to argue, but before he could, another voice chimed in—one that made his blood freeze.

“Yunho, let’s share!”

San turned his head slowly, dread pooling in his stomach. Minjeong stood nearby, smiling sweetly, her eyes stuck to Yunho only. San wanted to die.

This was bad. Really bad.

He had known that choosing his own group would come with problems, but he hadn’t expected to be completely cornered.

If Seonghwa and Hongjoong were in the same tent as him, then it'll mean Yunho, and by extension his friends, would be there, too.

Which meant an entire month of sharing space with the loudest, most unbearable people imaginable.

San turned his gaze to Yeosang, silently pleading for an escape.

Yeosang, ever the neutral party, merely sighed and patted San’s shoulder. “Looks like you’re stuck.”

San clenched his jaw.

One month.

One tent.

One hell.

As the groups started forming, Seonghwa practically beamed at the idea of sharing a tent with all his friends and his friend's boyfriend. San for his part, stood nervous as the chaos unfolded around him.

Minjeong was not happy.

The moment she realized she wouldn't be sharing a tent with Yunho, her face twisted into an expression of mild indignation.

“But why can’t I stay with you guys?” she pouted, crossing her arms.

Mingi, never one to sugarcoat things, raised an eyebrow. “Because it’s a guys-only tent?”

“It’s just a tent,” Minjeong huffed. “What does it matter?”

“It matters because the professors are the ones who made the rule,” Jongho added lazily. “Not us.”

Wooyoung smirked. “Unless you want to fight Professor Kim about it?”

Minjeong narrowed her eyes at him, clearly unimpressed.

San, standing a few feet away, resisted the urge to roll his own eyes. The entire situation was ridiculous. Of course Minjeong would try to worm her way into Yunho’s space. It wasn’t like she’d given up on him just because of their fake relationship.

But, thankfully, her friends seemed to sense she was fighting a losing battle.

“Come on, Minjeong,” one of them said, tugging at her arm. “There’s plenty of space in our tent.”

Minjeong pursed her lips, glancing at Yunho one last time before sighing dramatically.

“Fine.”

San could feel Yunho’s relief from where he stood. Good, San thought. One problem out of the way.

But before he could even begin to celebrate, Seonghwa turned to him with his usual bright expression.

“So, we will be together, right?”

San tensed.

Seonghwa barely needed to ask—San would always give in. He swallowed hard, his eyes flickering briefly toward Yunho before looking away.

“…Fine,” he muttered, already regretting it.

Seonghwa beamed.

“Yunho—” San hesitated, then sighed. “Can Seonghwa and his friends join us?”

Yunho, still standing nearby, blinked in slight surprise.

For a moment, San expected resistance. Expected some kind of issue. But Yunho only shrugged, his usual relaxed expression in place.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

Mingi, Wooyoung, and Jongho all gave casual nods of approval, seeming unbothered by the addition.

And just like that—San’s fate was sealed.

His new reality?

An entire month of living in a cramped tent with Yunho and his equally chaotic friends. San sighed, running a hand down his face as everyone started moving to set up.

San hated this.

Hated that he had to do this.

Hated that he needed to do this.

But as much as he wished he could avoid it, there was no way around it. So, after letting out a slow, quiet breath, he pushed his pride aside and made his way toward Yunho.

The group was still unloading their things from the buses, some began to set up their shared tent. San stepped closer to Yunho—ignoring the knowing glances from Yunho’s friends—he spoke in a low voice.

“Hey. Can we talk?”

Yunho, in the middle of adjusting the strap of his bag, looked at him with mild surprise. But after a brief hesitation, Yunho nodded.

“Yeah. Sure.”

They stepped away from the others, just far enough to have some privacy. San exhaled through his nose, crossing his arms.

“I…” He clenched his jaw. This was harder than he thought. “I want a truce.”

Yunho raised an eyebrow. “A truce?”

San nodded stiffly. “Look, I know this whole thing is already a mess. But now, with Seonghwa and Hongjoong here, it’s going to be even worse. So…” He sighed. “I just—wanted to say that I’ll do my best to make sure our… situation doesn’t interfere too much with this whole camp thing.”

He hated every word coming out of his mouth. Hated admits that he is making Yunho’s life more complicated. Hated apologizing. But it needed to be said. 

Because he wasn’t a dick.

Yunho stared at him for a moment, unreadable. San wasn’t sure what he expected—maybe a teasing remark, maybe some sarcastic comment—but Yunho just stood there, silent. And then, after a long beat, he spoke.

“You were pretty cold to me on the bus after the whole sleeping situation,” Yunho said, his arms crossed on his chest. His tone wasn’t accusatory, but there was something underneath it that made San shift uncomfortably.

San looked away. “I was just—”

“It’s fine,” Yunho cut in before San could even come up with an excuse. “I get it.”

San glanced back at him, hesitant.

Yunho’s lips twitched slightly, almost like he was debating whether to keep being annoyed with him. But, in the end, Yunho just sighed and gave a small, tired smile.

“Alright,” he said. “Truce.”

San felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease.

“Good.”

Yunho adjusted his bag again, shifting his weight. “We’ll make it work. No matter how ridiculous this whole thing is, we just have to make sure it doesn’t get out of hand.”

San nodded. “Yeah.”

There was a moment of silence between them. It wasn’t as awkward as usual. It was something different. But still, San avoided the other’s eyes, he could still feel the weight of Yunho’s gaze on him. 

“…Also,” San muttered after a beat, rubbing the back of his neck. Gaze fixed on Yunho’s shoulder instead of his face. “Can you… tell your friends about Seonghwa?”

Yunho tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

San resisted the urge to groan and frowned at him. “I mean, explain to them why we’re doing this. They already know about Minjeong, but they don’t know about my problem. I don’t want them saying something stupid in front of Seonghwa and ruining everything.”

Yunho blinked, then hummed in thought. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I’ll tell them later.”

San gave a small nod. Finally, one less thing to worry about. As much as he hated this whole situation, Yunho was at least somewhat competent at handling it.

“…Alright,” San muttered, stepping back. “That’s it.”

Yunho chuckled. “No thank you?”

San shot him a glare.

“Don’t test my patience.”

Yunho laughed softly. “Noted.”

And with that, they returned to their group—back to the chaos, back to the mess, and back to pretending they didn’t hate each other.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬‬

By the time everything was set up, the tent felt smaller than Yunho had anticipated. Maybe it was the sheer number of people, or maybe it was the fact that the sleeping bags were packed way too close together, but either way—there was no escaping it. He was stuck next to San. Of course. 

Yunho glanced at San, watching as he carefully adjusted his sleeping bag, his movements stiff but expression blank. To anyone else, San probably looked perfectly content. Relaxed, even. But Yunho knew better. San was acting. Playing his part, pretending that everything was fine—because, in Seonghwa’s eyes, there was no reason for San to be uncomfortable.

Not when he was sleeping next to his boyfriend, after all.

Yunho smirked slightly. He really is committed to this, huh?

“Well,” Seonghwa’s cheerful voice broke through the moment. “This is going to be fun!”

Yunho turned his attention toward him, watching as Seonghwa beamed at San and Yeosang.

“I’ve always wanted to have a sleepover with you guys,” Seonghwa continued, practically bouncing in place. “It’s like we’re back in high school, Sannie.”

Yeosang hummed in amusement. “Except we’re in the middle of the woods.”

Seonghwa waved a hand. “That’s the best part.”

Yunho chuckled under his breath. Seonghwa really was something else. As much as Yunho didn’t know him well, he could understand why San was so attached to him. There was something about Seonghwa that made the air lighter, that made everything feel easier. It was no wonder San—who carried the weight of his high school past—fell in love with him. 

Yunho quickly shook off the thought as Seonghwa turned to the rest of the group.

“Oh! Right—introductions,” Seonghwa clapped his hands together, addressing everyone in the tent. “Since we’re all going to be stuck with each other for the next month, let’s at least make it official.”

Yunho leaned back on his hands, glancing at his friends.

It wasn’t really necessary—he was pretty sure most of them already knew of each other—but he wasn’t about to ruin Seonghwa’s excitement. So, one by one, everyone introduced themselves. Hongjoong went first, his tone polite but straightforward as he greeted Yunho’s group. Juyeon and Seungkwan followed, both friends of Seonghwa and Hongjoong from the same year, seemingly laid-back and easygoing. And finally, Seonghwa reintroduced himself with his usual bright smile—even though nearly everyone already knew him.

Yunho stole a glance at San. For the first time all day, San didn’t look miserable. Uncomfortable? Sure. But not miserable.

Yunho exhaled softly. Maybe—just maybe—this whole camp situation wouldn’t be completely unbearable. Even if he was stuck next to Choi San for the foreseeable future.

By the time they reached the dining area, the sun had dipped lower in the sky, painting the horizon with deep shades of orange and purple.

The dining hall—if you could call it that—was really just a large open-air pavilion with long wooden tables and benches, surrounded by oil lanterns hanging from posts. It had a rustic charm. Nothing fancy, but functional.

Yunho sat with his usual group, their plates filled with whatever standard camp meal had been prepared for the night. It wasn’t bad, but it definitely wasn’t gourmet either. Across the room, he spotted San and Yeosang sitting near Seonghwa and Hongjoong. Not surprising. San had barely strayed from their side since arriving.

Yunho stabbed at his food idly, listening half-heartedly as Mingi and Wooyoung debated the real challenges of the camp.

“I’m telling you,” Wooyoung said between bites, “the worst part isn’t gonna be the hiking. It’s gonna be the showers.”

Mingi raised an eyebrow. “What about them?”

Wooyoung scoffed. “Do you know how many people are here? And how limited the hot water supply is? Cold showers, dude. Cold.”

Jongho, sitting across from them, rolled his eyes. “Wow. A whole month without your precious hot water. How will you survive?”

“You say that now,” Wooyoung pointed at him with his chopsticks, “but just wait. We’ll see who’s complaining the loudest after week one.”

Yunho smirked, shaking his head as their conversation carried on. Not far away, the professors stood at the front of the pavilion, signaling for everyone’s attention.

Professor Kim cleared his throat. “Alright, now that everyone’s settled in, let’s go over some last details.”

The chatter died down as students turned to listen.

“As you all know, this camp is not just about coursework, but also about developing practical skills and teamwork,” he continued. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll begin with orientation—an introduction to the environment, safety protocols, and group assignments for upcoming activities.” A few students groaned at the mention of assignments. Professor Kim ignored them. “In the afternoons, there will be structured projects as well as free time to explore, within designated areas."

“Additionally, while we encourage students to enjoy themselves, let’s be clear on some basic rules,” another professor added, arms crossed. “Curfew is at 10 PM. No wandering beyond marked boundaries. And absolutely no swimming in the river outside of supervised activities.”

Yunho could practically feel Wooyoung deflating beside him with each word being said.

After another round of reminders about responsibility and respecting nature, the professors finally dismissed them.

“For now,” Professor Kim concluded, “you’re free to explore or rest, but don’t go too far. Tomorrow, we start early.”

That was all the encouragement Yunho’s group needed. The moment they were excused, Mingi stretched his arms above his head.

“Alright, who’s up for some exploring?”

Wooyoung grinned. “Hell yes.”

Jongho sighed. “Of course.”

Yunho chuckled. “You guys act like we’re on some grand expedition.”

Mingi nudged him with his elbow. “Hey, you never know. We could discover something cool.”

Yunho didn’t disagree, so with little hesitation, they started heading off toward the trees. As they walked, he glanced back over his shoulder—just for a second. San didn't move from the dining area. No surprise there. Instead, he and Yeosang lingered near Seonghwa and the others, content to stay close to camp.

Yunho exhaled slowly, turning his attention back to the path ahead. Whatever. He had his group, San had his. They could survive the next month without stepping on each other’s toes.

They walked deep into the forest. Even as the evening settled in, there was a hum of activity all around them—the rustling of leaves, the distant calls of birds, the steady chorus of insects filling the air. Yunho and his friends had wandered for about an hour, walking along narrow dirt paths that twisted between the dense trees. The fresh air was crisp, carrying the earthy scent of wood and damp soil. Mingi had insisted on checking out the river, so they followed the sound of running water until they reached the clearing where it stretched out in front of them—wide and still, almost too still.

“Looks nice,” Wooyoung admitted, standing at the edge of the water. “But I don’t trust it.”

Jongho snorted. “It’s not like it’s haunted.”

“Not haunted,” Wooyoung muttered, crossing his arms, “but have you seen how calm it is? There is almost no current. The water is just… there.”

Yunho rolled his eyes with a chuckle. The river wasn’t anything unusual. Just a deep, steady body of water, reflecting the dark colors of the evening sky.

But it was quiet—almost unnervingly so. Still, they weren’t about to jump in.

After a few more minutes of lingering near the shore, they turned back toward camp, following a different path through the woods.

Along the way, they came across various animals—frogs hopping near damp patches of soil, a handful of nocturnal birds fluttering from branch to branch, and, to Wooyoung’s absolute horror, an entire patch of the forest overflowing with insects.

“Why is everything moving?” he hissed, stepping back as beetles scattered across the underbrush.

“Because we’re in a forest,” Jongho deadpanned.

Wooyoung shot him a glare. “I know that. But did they all have to be here?”

“They probably think the same thing about you,” Mingi teased.

Wooyoung groaned, stomping ahead to get away from the bug-infested area.

By the time they made it back to camp, the sky had turned a deep navy blue, stars barely peeking through the gaps in the treetops. The curfew was approaching fast, so most of the students were wrapping up their activities, heading toward the showers or back to their tents. Yunho stretched his arms above his head, feeling the exhaustion settle into his limbs.

“I’m gonna go wash up.”

Mingi nodded. “Same. Feels like we walked forever.”

The group went to the tent, each grabbing their shower supplies before making their way toward the communal showers.

The building was small but functional, separated into sections for the students. Yunho pushed open the door and stepped inside, the warm humidity clinging to his skin immediately. And just as he did—he saw him.

San.

Stepping out of the showers with his towel draped over his shoulders, hair damp and slightly messy from the steam. His face was flushed—not dramatically, but just enough to make it clear he’d taken a not-so-cold shower.

His usual hoodies and baggy jeans had been swapped for an oversized shirt and gray pants, the fabric of his shirt sticking slightly to his damp skin around the chest area.

Yunho froze.

He had never seen San like this before. He wasn’t sure why it struck him so differently—but something about the scene made his breath catch for half a second.

San, completely unaware of Yunho’s dumbfounded state, walked past him without a second glance.

“Hey, San!” Wooyoung’s voice snapped Yunho out of it.

Yunho blinked, shaking himself mentally.

Right.

Wooyoung, now standing beside him, called out, “Is there still hot water?”

San barely slowed his steps as he passed by them. “No,” he answered simply while drying his hair with the towel. “It’s gone.”

Wooyoung groaned dramatically. “Oh, come on.”

San didn’t respond—just kept walking, disappearing out the door. Yunho exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. What the hell was that?

He wasn’t sure what just happened. But he really needed to shower. Maybe cold water would help clear his head.

The water was freezing. Not just cold—freezing.

Yunho clenched his jaw as the icy stream hit his skin, cursing himself for not returning so late from their little exploration time. 

Apparently, if you wanted to shower comfortably, you had to do it early, because the water was heated by solar panels. Meaning that by the time Yunho and his friends got back, the sun had already set, and the warm water was gone.

Wooyoung, of course, was not handling it well.

“This is inhumane!” he groaned from a few stalls over. “Why the hell didn’t anyone warn us?”

Jongho, sounding far too amused, responded, “They did. You just weren’t listening.”

Wooyoung sputtered. “That’s not the point! The point is—I can’t live like this!”

Mingi’s deep laugh echoed through the showers. “Dude, it’s just a month.”

“A month?!” Wooyoung’s voice cracked. “I’m gonna freeze to death!”

"Be grateful the camp is in summer and not winter," Jongho teased laughing. 

Yunho chuckled under his breath, letting the water run over his head one last time before turning it off. At least he was somewhat prepared for this. Wooyoung, on the other hand, might actually have a breakdown before the camp was over.

Once they finished their —painfully cold— showers, he grabbed their things and made his way back to the tent while Mingi and Wooyoung said something about grabbing something to eat before going to sleep.

By now, the camp had settled down. The once lively atmosphere had quieted significantly, with only a few remaining voices murmuring in the distance, the soft glow of bonfires here and there, with some students eating roasted sweet potatoes.

When Yunho stepped inside the tent, some of their group was already lying down, half-asleep. The lantern hanging on the center of the tent cast a soft glow inside, illuminating the space enough for him to make out the familiar faces around him. And then—his eyes landed on San.

He was sitting cross-legged on top of his sleeping bag, a little flashlight and a book resting in his hands. His damp hair was still slightly tousled from the shower, and he looked…Relaxed. Not tense. Not irritated. Just focused, reading quietly as if he were the only person in the tent.

Yunho hesitated for a moment. There was a brief second where he considered just lying down and pretending he hadn’t seen him. But his sleeping bag was right next to San’s, whether he liked it or not. So, with a deep breath, he walked over and sat down. San didn’t acknowledge him at first, flipping a page without sparing a glance in Yunho’s direction.

In the background, Seonghwa was chatting quietly with Hongjoong on their sleeping bags, their voices a soft murmur.

Taking advantage of the casual atmosphere, Yunho leaned back slightly and glanced at San’s book.

“You seriously brought a book to the camp?” he teased him lightly, keeping his voice low.

San finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Would you rather I stare at the ceiling for an hour?”

Yunho smirked. “I mean, that’s what most people do when they’re about to sleep.”

San hummed noncommittally, looking back down at his book. Yunho watched him for a moment, then—after debating whether he should keep talking to him or not—decided to go for it.

“So, what’d you do while we were out exploring?” he asked.

San didn’t seem surprised by the question, but he still took his time answering.

“Nothing exciting,” he muttered, still not looking at him. “Stayed near the camp. Walked around with Yeosang and Seonghwa for a bit.”

Yunho nodded, resting his chin on his hand lying on his sleeping bag. “No curiosity about what’s out there?”

San let out a quiet scoff. “I already know what’s out there. Trees. Bugs. Dirt.”

Yunho chuckled. “You’re a biology major, and you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

San rolled his eyes. “I like biology. That doesn’t mean I like getting covered in it.”

Yunho laughed under his breath, shaking his head. It was weird. San wasn’t being as hostile as usual. Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was the fact that they were stuck together in this tent, whether they liked it or not. Or maybe—just maybe—they were finally getting used to each other. Yunho wasn’t sure.

But for the first time after what felt like ages, talking to San didn’t feel like walking on a minefield.

It almost felt... normal.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬‬

The day had been long; longer than he would have liked. The only thing keeping him from spiraling into full-blown frustration was the fact that he had made a decision—one that he needed to stick to.

While Seonghwa and Hongjoong were around, he had to be civil with Yunho. Or at least try. It was a necessary evil.

He didn’t have the luxury of being his usual, cold self. Not when he had an entire month ahead of him, surrounded by people who would be watching his every move.

That meant no scowling. No biting remarks. No eye-rolling. And worst of all—he had to interact with Yunho as if he didn’t hate every second of it.

He sighed, turning another page in his book, though he wasn’t really reading anymore. The exhaustion from the trip had hit him harder than expected. He had barely done anything all day—just walked around the camp, listened to Seonghwa and Hongjoong talk about last year’s camp, which had taken place at the beach, and made an effort to not think about the fact that he was going to be stuck in the wilderness for an entire month.

It wasn’t that he hated nature, he was a biology major after all. It was just... too much. Too much noise, too much unpredictability, too much socializing.

He had wanted to read earlier, but the conversation around him had been constant. So he had waited until now, when everything had quieted down and the only sounds left were the low murmurs of the people in the tent. San shifted slightly, adjusting his grip on his flashlight. It was a book about forest ecosystems—something he had grabbed last minute before coming to camp, figuring it was fitting for the environment. It was interesting enough, but he couldn’t focus. Not when he could feel the occasional glances from Hongjoong from across the tent, and not when Yunho had just sat down beside him. He could sense it before Yunho even spoke.

It was like an unspoken force—a presence that demanded attention even when he wanted to ignore it. And then, the inevitable.

“So, what’d you do while we were out exploring?”

San didn’t answer right away. Instead, he subtly glanced toward Seonghwa and Hongjoong. They weren’t looking at him directly, but he knew they were listening. He could feel it. Hongjoong, in particular, had been keeping an eye on him ever since the whole boyfriend situation came up. San knew that Hongjoong was smart—too smart. He couldn’t afford to raise suspicion. So, he did what he had to do.

He turned back to Yunho, softened his expression just a bit, and forced a small—almost invisible—casual smile.

“Nothing exciting,” he said simply, keeping his tone light. “Stayed near the camp. Walked around with Yeosang and Seonghwa for a bit.”

Yunho nodded, resting his chin on his hand. “No curiosity about what’s out there?”

San let out a small scoff, keeping the act going. “I already know what’s out there. Trees. Bugs. Dirt.”

Yunho chuckled. “You’re a biology major, and you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

San shrugged. “I like biology. That doesn’t mean I like getting covered in it.”

It was so unnatural, acting this way toward Yunho. But he had to. He had no choice. He could practically see Hongjoong’s gaze shifting between them, analyzing, assessing. And if there was one thing San could not allow, it was Hongjoong figuring out the truth. So, for now, he would play nice.

The tent was quiet. Mostly. There were still the occasional hushed whispers from Wooyoung and Mingi, too stubborn to sleep just yet since arriving from their night snack. The sound of their muffled laughter mixed with the distant chirping of insects outside, filling the space with a low, constant hum. Somewhere on the other side of the tent, Seonghwa, Yeosang, and the others were already asleep, their breathing slow and steady.

And then, there was San.

Lying stiffly on his back, staring up at the dark fabric of the tent’s ceiling, trying not to think too much. But it was impossible. Because no matter how hard he tried to focus on anything else, he was painfully aware of one simple fact: He was too close to Yunho.

Their sleeping bags were practically pressed together, their arms brushing each time one of them moved even slightly.

For better or worse, San only had one neighbor—Yunho.

On his other side, there was no one, just the empty space near the edge of the tent. Which meant that every ounce of his attention was hyper-focused on the body next to him.

Why did it have to be Yunho?

San clenched his jaw, still refusing to move, still refusing to turn his head to the side—because if he did... If he did... He might accidentally meet Yunho’s gaze. And for some reason, the thought of that made his stomach twist. His heart was already betraying him since earlier, beating faster than it should have been.

It was so stupid. He was just lying next to Yunho. That was all. They weren’t on the same sleeping bag. They weren’t even talking. But still—his mind kept flashing back to the bus. To that stupid moment when Yunho had fallen asleep on his shoulder. To that stupid feeling of his heart skipping a beat when he realized how close Yunho’s face was.

San shut his eyes tightly.

No. Stop thinking about it.

It was nothing. It meant nothing. He needed to sleep. He needed to stop letting Yunho mess with his head. But somehow, even as he lay there, perfectly still, perfectly quiet—his body refused to relax. Because no matter how much he tried to ignore it, he could still feel Yunho’s presence beside him.

Warm.
Close.
Unavoidable.

And somehow, that was the most unsettling thing of all.

Chapter Text

The first thing Yunho noticed when he woke up was that his arm was completely numb; the second thing he noticed was that he was way too close to San. It took a moment for his brain to catch up—still groggy from sleep, his body sluggish—but the second his vision cleared, he froze.

San was right there.

Not inches away, but close enough for Yunho to make out every little detail of his face. His breathing hitched slightly, and he resisted the urge to shift away too suddenly. Not because he was freaked out, but because… San looked different. At least, different from what Yunho was used to. San was always scowling, rolling his eyes, throwing sarcastic remarks like knives. But now? Now, his face was completely relaxed. His usual frown had disappeared, his features soft in sleep. Yunho had never seen him like this.

His eyes traced the small details he had never noticed before—the way his long lashes rested against his skin, the tiny beauty marks scattered across his face down to his neck, the way his lips were pursed lightly, forming the faintest, unintentional pout. He had no right looking this… Soft.

It wasn’t fair.

Yunho swallowed, suddenly feeling his face warm up, and tore his gaze away, staring up at the ceiling of the tent instead. His heart was beating faster than it should. Not from panic. Not from shock. Just… something else. Something that he wasn’t quite ready to put into words.

A small, stupid part of him wanted to stay like this a little longer. Not because he liked San. Just… Because it was nice seeing him like this.

Without the snark. Without the sarcasm. Just San, peaceful and quiet.

His lips twitched slightly in amusement. If he ever found out I was staring, he’d kill me.

The thought made him chuckle under his breath before he exhaled quietly, closing his eyes for a moment. He needed to stop thinking about this. It wasn’t a big deal. It was just San sleeping. Nothing more, nothing less. But even as he repeated that thought in his head, he knew.

Knew that the next time San looked at him with his usual glare, the image of this—of this side of him—would be stuck in his mind.

San shifted slightly in his sleeping bag, his brows twitching ever so slightly like he was on the verge of waking up. That was Yunho’s signal.

Carefully—quietly—he slid out of his sleeping bag, taking extra care not to move too suddenly and wake San up. His legs stretched out as soon as he stood, a satisfying crack coming from his back as he rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms above his head. Sleeping on the ground wasn’t terrible, but his body definitely felt it. Shoving a hand through his sleep-mussed blond hair, he carefully stepped over the other sleeping bodies in the tent, making his way out into the chill morning air.

The sky was softly lit, the sun barely peeking over the horizon, and the camp was mostly quiet save for the occasional rustle of movement from other early risers. Just outside their tent, Seonghwa and Hongjoong stood chatting, both of them holding what looked like paper cups of hot tea or coffee in their hands. The moment Seonghwa noticed him, his lips curled into a friendly smile.

“Oh, good morning, Yunho. You’re up early.”

Yunho yawned, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “Morning. Yeah, I couldn't sleep anymore.”

Hongjoong took a small sip from his drink, his sharp eyes scanning Yunho before glancing over at their tent.

“How was the first night?” Seonghwa asked, tilting his head slightly.

Yunho stretched again, rolling his neck this time. “Could’ve been better. Sleeping on the ground is killing my back, but I think I’ll get used to it.”

Seonghwa laughed softly. “Yeah, the first few nights are rough, but by the end of the camp, you’ll probably be able to sleep on a rock and not care.”

Yunho chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far, but let’s see.”

Seonghwa blew gently on his drink, then glanced at Yunho curiously. “So, what did you guys do after lunch yesterday? I didn’t see you or your friends around camp much.”

Yunho blinked, caught off guard for a moment before nodding. “Oh, we went out to explore a bit. I walked through the forest and checked out the river, you know—basic stuff. Figured we should get familiar with the area.”

Hongjoong hummed, eyes narrowing slightly in thought. “That makes sense. You and your friends do seem like the adventurous type.” Then, without any real change in tone, Hongjoong added, “Though, I couldn’t help but notice that you and San are pretty independent for a couple. Haven’t really seen you two interact much since we got here.”

Yunho froze for half a second, his mind scrambling for an excuse, for something natural to say that wouldn’t make him sound suspicious. Hongjoong was sharp. Too sharp. Yunho opened his mouth, about to say something casual, normal, totally believable—but before he could, Seonghwa chuckled softly, nudging his boyfriend lightly.

“Not all couples are the same, Joongie.”

Yunho blinked.

Seonghwa continued, a knowing glint in his warm eyes. “Besides, you know how Sannie is. He likes his space.”

Hongjoong sighed, “Yeah, yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Yunho exhaled internally, barely resisting the urge to let out a breath of relief.

He forced a small chuckle, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah, Sannie’s not exactly the clingy type, you know?”

Hongjoong hummed again, like he was still analyzing something, but he let it go.

And Yunho made a mental note: He needed to be more careful around Hongjoong.

Because if anyone was going to figure their act first, it’d be him.

After breakfast, all the students gathered in the large communal dining area. The wooden tables had been pushed slightly aside, creating space for everyone to stand or sit comfortably and listen as Professor Kim and a few other faculty members stepped forward, ready to address the group. The morning sun had fully risen now, brightening the entire area, and Yunho found himself standing with his friends—Mingi yawning beside him, Wooyoung complaining quietly about bug bites, and Jongho, composed as always, rolling his eyes at both of them.

San and Yeosang were nearby, chatting quietly, although Yunho noticed San looked as if he’d rather be anywhere but there. He couldn't help but smile slightly—some things never change.

Professor Kim clapped his hands once, gathering everyone's attention.

"Good morning, everyone! I hope your first night here wasn’t too uncomfortable," he began, earning a chorus of mixed laughs and groans from the students. Yunho chuckled quietly. The professor continued with a warm smile. "I just want to remind everyone again that this isn’t a vacation. This is, above all, a study camp. The primary goal here is to learn, explore, and gain deeper insights about biology and nature itself."

Wooyoung leaned close to Yunho, whispering dramatically, "Did he have to remind us that we’re supposed to be studying? I was already planning my afternoon nap."

Yunho elbowed him gently, shaking his head in amusement.

Professor Kim continued, "Every morning, professors will be offering a variety of classes and workshops. You’re free to choose which classes interest you most, as long as you do so in groups. You’re encouraged to participate actively and make the most out of this experience. It’ll help your grades as well, so keep that in mind."

San’s expression relaxed a little at that. Clearly, structured learning suited him better than aimless wandering.

"Afternoons," Professor Kim added, "will be less formal. Some days we’ll have recreational activities planned—team-building, sports, hikes—while other days will be free for you to rest, explore the area, or study independently. Your choice."

Jongho nodded approvingly. "Nice balance," he muttered. Yunho agreed silently; it sounded perfect.

"However," Professor Kim's voice turned a bit firmer, "while afternoons are more flexible, you must still follow the rules, respect the curfew, and always move around in groups. Understood?"

A collective nod and chorus of "Yes, sir," came from the students.

"Good," Professor Kim said warmly. "Today, we’ll start easy. The morning classes will begin shortly—check the schedule posted outside to decide which you’d like to join. This afternoon, we have a few fun group challenges planned to help you settle in and get familiar with your surroundings."

San visibly tensed again at the mention of “fun group challenges,” and Yunho bit back a smile. He couldn’t help but glance over toward San, who immediately looked back, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before San turned away, seemingly annoyed. Yunho’s smile faded slightly. He wasn't exactly sure what he felt every time that happened, but he knew one thing for certain—the camp was going to make figuring that out very difficult.

The professor clapped again, signaling the end of his speech. "Alright, everyone. Check the schedules and enjoy your first official day of camp!"

As students began dispersing, Mingi threw an arm around Yunho’s shoulder. "So, which class are we crashing first?"

Yunho laughed softly, pushing the thoughts of San aside for the moment. "Let’s check the schedule. Maybe something to do with bugs?" He said teasingly.  Wooyoung groaned dramatically again, earning a laugh from Jongho.

But even as Yunho joined his friends, he couldn't stop his eyes from drifting once more toward San, who stood staring at the schedule with a resigned expression.

Yeah, Yunho thought. This camp was definitely going to be interesting.

The morning passed quickly, with Yunho and his friends opting for a class that took them deeper into the forest—exactly the kind of thing Yunho loved. The air was fresh, the surroundings peaceful, and Yunho genuinely enjoyed exploring, observing plants and wildlife in their natural environment.

The only thing slightly dampening the experience was Minjeong, who eagerly attached herself to their group, taking every opportunity to stay close to Yunho. He didn’t particularly dislike her, but it was exhausting trying to politely keep her at arm’s length without being rude.

San, on the other hand, had chosen a more laid-back class that didn't require wandering too far from the camp area. He’d looked relieved when picking something calmer alongside Yeosang and the older students, including Seonghwa and Hongjoong. Yunho briefly wondered what that would’ve been like—spending the morning quietly next to San—but quickly brushed off that thought.

When afternoon came, Professor Kim gathered everyone back in the clearing.

"Alright, everyone," Professor Kim announced cheerfully, "For today's recreational activity, we'll be doing something fun and straightforward: a scavenger hunt—in pairs!"

A collective murmur rippled through the crowd, excitement from some, groans from others. Yunho noticed San looking immediately apprehensive.

Professor Kim continued, "You'll each receive a list of items to find around the forest area. It's meant to help you become familiar with your surroundings and practice some of the skills you've learned. Work together, cooperate, and above all—have fun!"

Mingi elbowed Yunho with a grin on his face. "Pair up?"

But before Yunho could answer, Minjeong appeared from practically nowhere, smiling brightly as she reached for Yunho’s arm.

"Yunho! Let's be partners!" she said cheerfully.

Yunho froze, panic instantly setting in. He glanced desperately around—Mingi was giving him an apologetic look, already slowly backing away to pair with someone else. Yunho’s eyes quickly landed on San, who was standing nearby, staring at the scene unfolding with clear distaste. In a moment of desperation, Yunho quickly stepped back from Minjeong, pulling out his arm from her embrace, flashing a nervous smile.

"Ah—sorry, Minjeong. Actually, San and I already agreed to partner up."

Yunho could see the urge of San to roll up his eyes at the situation so he quickly stepped toward him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder, smiling tightly as if begging San to help him out. San sighed deeply, eyes briefly closing in resignation, but after a heartbeat, he turned to Minjeong, managing to force a side smile.

"Yeah, we’re together. Sorry."

Minjeong looked suspicious for a moment, but she eventually nodded, stepping back. "Oh, right. I almost forgot you were here." She gave San a quick glance, clearly displeased. "Have fun, I guess."

As soon as Minjeong was out of earshot, San shrugged Yunho’s hand off his shoulder, shooting him an annoyed look. 

Yunho chuckled sheepishly. "Thanks, you saved me again."

Around them, the others quickly paired up. Mingi ended up partnering with Yeosang, Wooyoung latched onto Jongho (much to Jongho's annoyance), and Seonghwa naturally gravitated toward Hongjoong.

Professor Kim passed around the scavenger hunt lists, and Yunho’s heart began racing again—both from nervousness and something else he didn't quite understand.

This was the first time since the café date that he and San would be truly alone together, without anyone else to buffer the awkwardness. He glanced at San, who was staring down at the list with a neutral expression, then quickly looked away when San met his gaze.

"Well," Yunho said, attempting to break the silence casually, "Ready?"

San exhaled, sounding exhausted already. "As I'll ever be."

But even as they began to walk into the forest, Yunho couldn’t deny the small, stubborn warmth blooming in his chest at the thought of spending some time alone with San—awkwardness and irritation be damned.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬

The morning had been about as tedious as San had expected. He'd spent most of it scribbling notes, nodding along to whatever the professors were explaining, and generally wishing he could vanish back home, back into his room, back to his peaceful solitude. He could’ve been in bed right now—curled comfortably under his sheets, laptop on his chest, earphones blocking out the world, and most importantly, far far away from Yunho’s irritating smiles, Wooyoung’s annoying commentary, and this whole ridiculous circus.

But instead, here he was, on a god-forsaken mountain, surrounded by bugs, dirt, and worst of all—forced to partner up with Yunho for some absurd treasure hunt game.

San sighed deeply, eyes skimming the paper in his hand. Leaves, rocks, specific types of flowers—great. This was exactly how he didn't want to spend his vacation. He’d much rather be back home in his cozy room, buried under blankets, binge-watching series and ignoring all existence outside of his bedroom door.

But Seonghwa had looked so genuinely hopeful and happy about him attending, and San, despite himself, couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing him. He’d made his choice. Now he had to deal with the consequences. And by “consequences,” he meant Jeong Yunho.

Speaking of Yunho—San glanced to his right, noting how Yunho walked casually alongside him, occasionally glancing around at the trees with a sense of wonder that almost made him look… cute.

San quickly shook that thought away, horrified that he'd even let it cross his mind. He focused back on the list. They had to find some basic things any biology student could easily locate. It wasn't difficult, really. The real challenge wasn't the stupid list—it was convincing Hongjoong that this thing between him and Yunho was real.

Seonghwa wasn’t the problem. He trusted San, always had. Hongjoong, however, had a way of quietly observing everything, analyzing every word, every glance, every subtle gesture. And San was pretty sure Hongjoong had already caught on to their lie. He was just there waiting for everything to burst up, or something. 

A sudden laugh broke through his thoughts, startling San out of his quiet contemplation. He glanced sharply at Yunho, who was now grinning sheepishly.

“Sorry,” Yunho said, clearly not sorry at all. “I was just saying that if you keep glaring at the plants like that, you’re going to scare them away.”

San rolled his eyes, turning away to hide the faint twitch of his lips. He refused—absolutely refused—to admit that it had been a little bit funny. “Plants can’t run away, Yunho.”

“You never know,” Yunho responded smoothly, stepping closer, tilting his head slightly to peer at the list San held. “Maybe they’ll start now, seeing how threatening you look at them.”

“Plants don’t run,” San muttered dryly, taking a step back at Yunho's closeness. 

“Well, neither should you,” Yunho retorted cheerfully. “Not from your fake boyfriend, at least.”

San shot him an annoyed glare, but Yunho’s smile only widened. It was that annoyingly bright, charming smile that everyone else found endearing, the one that used to irritate San endlessly—still did, in fact, though maybe slightly less than before. San chalked it up to exposure therapy. He was getting numb to it, or something.

He returned his focus to the list, determinedly ignoring the small flutter in his chest, pretending it didn’t exist.

They moved further into the woods, stopping occasionally to gather samples from their list. Yunho’s commentary never really stopped—pointless jokes, silly observations, light-hearted complaints about Wooyoung’s whining from a distance—each comment tugging gently at San’s resolve to stay annoyed. Because, as frustrating as Yunho could be, some of his jokes were so genuinely stupid they actually managed to draw out a reluctant laugh from San—a sound Yunho immediately looked proud to have elicited.

Eventually, Yunho knelt down, picking up a smooth, flat rock from the ground. “Hey, look. This rock kinda looks like Wooyoung’s face when he realized there was no more hot water.”

San snorted despite himself, turning away quickly so Yunho wouldn’t catch his amused expression. “Isn't he your friend?”

“It’s true, though,” Yunho said lightly, tossing the rock gently from one hand to the other, grinning victoriously when San finally allowed himself to smile openly.

San decided to ignore it and keep walking till they reached a narrow part of the river. They had made good progress through the list, but there was one item that required crossing the river. San stared skeptically at the water, then at the row of stones forming a shaky path across.

"You can't be serious," San muttered, eyeing the stones warily. He had no intention of ending up soaking wet.

Yunho laughed lightly, his eyes sparkling with playful challenge. "What? Afraid of a little water? And here I thought you were tougher than me."

San scowled at him, crossing his arms. "I'm not scared. I just don’t trust those rocks. One slip, and you'll fall and get your ass soaked in cold water."

Yunho raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Sure, sure. If you're too scared, you can just stay here. I'll get the flower for you. You know—since you’re such a coward."

That did it. San’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?” He exclaimed indignantly. 

“You heard me,” Yunho teased, already stepping confidently onto the first stone. “Wait here, scaredy-cat. Your brave boyfriend will handle it.”

San scoffed, glaring but staying put—mostly out of spite. He watched carefully, unwilling to admit that Yunho actually seemed pretty agile as he easily jumped from stone to stone, barely wobbling at all. Yunho reached the opposite bank effortlessly, flashing San an annoyingly victorious grin as he plucked the small white flower from its place.

San couldn’t resist rolling his eyes, but still found himself reluctantly impressed. “Be careful on the way back,” he warned, trying not to sound too concerned. “If you fall in and ruin that flower, it’ll be your fault if we can't complete the list.”

Yunho chuckled, shaking his head dramatically. “You should be more worried about your boyfriend’s safety, not some flower.”

San’s cheeks warmed slightly at that—damn Yunho and his stupid teasing. He forced a frown, crossing his arms defensively. “Shut up and hurry up.”

Yunho laughed again and carefully began making his way back, flower held carefully in one hand. Halfway across, he paused on a rock, shooting San a playful wink before deliberately wobbling for dramatic effect. San’s eyes widened instantly.

“Yunho, stop messing around!”

“Oh?” Yunho grinned, looking entirely too amused. “Is someone worried about me?”

San flushed deeper, scowling even harder to hide his embarrassment. “I’m worried about the fucking flower, idiot.”

Yunho laughed loudly, and San barely had time to register what happened next before—Yunho lost his balance, arms flailing comically as he fell backwards into the shallow river, completely soaking himself from head to toe. For a brief second, San stared in shock, mouth agape—then burst into genuine laughter, loud enough that he had to grip his stomach, almost doubling over.

“Oh my god,” San managed between fits of laughter, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes, “you're an idiot!”

Yunho sat up in the shallow water, drenched, hair plastered comically over his forehead. But instead of annoyance, Yunho just stared at San, a small, gentle smile forming on his lips—looking at San like he'd never seen him before.

San’s laughter eventually quieted down, noticing Yunho’s soft gaze. He coughed awkwardly, regaining composure and turning away, still smiling slightly to himself.

“You deserved that.”

“Yeah,” Yunho admitted lightly, standing and shaking some water from his hair. “But it was worth it.”

San shot him a skeptical glance. “Worth what, getting your ass soaked?”

Yunho's gaze softened even more. “Seeing you laugh like that.”

San’s heart stuttered in his chest, but he quickly looked away, face heating yet again.

“Whatever. Idiot,” he muttered, trying to ignore how fast his heart was beating.

But Yunho’s soft laughter behind him didn’t make it easy.

Eventually, San and Yunho managed to finish collecting the items for the scavenger hunt without further incidents—much to San's relief. He was grateful Yunho hadn't done anything else to further complicate the day, although the lingering tension between them was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

As they walked quietly back towards the camp, San’s thoughts raced in circles, replaying the scene of Yunho falling into the river—his bright, soft smile despite being soaked, the playful warmth in his gaze, the way San's heart had inexplicably fluttered at the sight. San shook his head sharply, desperate to clear the intrusive thoughts. It was nothing. He didn’t care if Yunho fell in the river, smiled at him, or looked at him with those big, bright eyes. He definitely wasn’t supposed to feel his pulse quicken, or a flutter of warmth spreading across his chest. San was immune—he was supposed to be immune.

"Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?" Yunho's voice broke into his thoughts, casual and annoyingly cheerful.

San didn't look at him. "It could've been worse, I guess."

Yunho chuckled lightly. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

San rolled his eyes, ignoring the small smile threatening to escape. He forced himself to remember all the reasons he disliked Yunho—his carefree attitude, constant jokes, irritating charisma, the way he always seemed too damn happy all the time. Yunho represented everything San wasn’t, everything that had made high school miserable for him, everything he swore he disliked.

Then why did it feel so hard to keep hating him right now?

They finally approached the communal dining area, where many students had already returned. After turning in their collected items, San felt relief settle into him. Finally, he could distance himself again. Regain his balance, clear his mind, and forget about Yunho. But as soon as Yunho stepped beside him, handing over the final item, his presence—warm and annoyingly comforting—had San’s heart betraying him again. He scowled slightly to himself. It’s nothing. It’s just the stress. Just… confusion.

He kept repeating those words, desperately trying to convince himself they were true.

"I think we did pretty well," Yunho murmured softly beside him, voice gentler than San was used to.

"Yeah," San replied stiffly, not meeting Yunho's eyes. He could feel Yunho's gaze lingering on him, curious, questioning.

He had to get away.

Quickly.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I'm heading back. I, uh...need a break."

Yunho nodded slowly. "Sure."

San turned sharply, about to walk away, when Yunho suddenly spoke again, his voice softer this time.

"San?"

San paused, glancing back hesitantly, heart pounding. "Yeah?"

Yunho's expression softened, eyes thoughtful, almost concerned. "Thanks again...for helping earlier. With Minjeong, and everything. It was fun."

San swallowed, nodding slightly and quickly turned around, not trusting himself to speak. He hurried off, trying desperately to ignore the warmth pooling in his chest.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. He shouldn’t feel conflicted, uncertain, or attracted to Yunho of all people. Yunho was the problem, not the solution. He’d gotten San into this mess in the first place. He was the reason San was stuck pretending, feeling awkward and confused every second he was nearby. But as he reached the tent, San sighed heavily, already knowing his heart wasn't going to let him rest easily. Damn it, he thought bitterly, sitting heavily down on his sleeping bag. This was going to be the longest four weeks of his life.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬

A few days had already slipped by—five, to be exact—and Yunho felt himself comfortably settling into camp life. He genuinely enjoyed the outdoor classes, breathing in fresh air, and feeling the sun warm on his skin as he scribbled notes or observed wildlife. The recreational activities, as silly or exhausting as some of them were, turned out to be surprisingly fun, even if he sometimes ended up with mud on his pants or scratches from wandering into bushes.

He had to admit, even sleeping on the thin mat inside his sleeping bag wasn’t bothering him anymore. His back had finally adjusted, and he no longer woke up stiff or sore. Even the camp food, simple and repetitive at first, now tasted oddly satisfying, comforting in its simplicity after days outdoors.

In short, Yunho was having a great time—at least, in every way except one.

His situation with San was... complicated, to say the least. They had settled into a sort of functional partnership, helping each other out whenever necessary—mostly with Minjeong’s endless pursuit of Yunho and Hongjoong’s suspicious glances whenever San stood too far from Yunho. On the surface, they’d become better at playing the role of a believable couple. They’d perfected subtle touches, shared knowing glances, and even exchanged occasional, genuine laughs that felt almost real. But something was still off, and Yunho felt it deep in his chest every single time he tried to get a little closer.

After that scavenger hunt, Yunho thought things might have changed between them. San had laughed—really laughed, bright and carefree—when Yunho fell into the water. For one fleeting moment, Yunho had felt a rush of genuine warmth, like he'd finally broken through the invisible wall San always put between them. But instead of things improving, San had withdrawn even further.

He actively avoided being alone with Yunho, always dragging Yeosang into their conversations, or slipping quietly away whenever Yunho approached him without the buffer of their friends nearby. It felt as if every small step Yunho managed to take forward only caused San to retreat two steps back, rebuilding the walls higher and thicker each time.

Yunho sighed quietly, poking at the campfire with a stick as he stared absently into the flickering flames. What bothered him most wasn’t San’s distant behavior—he was used to that. No, what troubled Yunho was the disappointment and frustration he felt each time it happened. Why did it matter so much whether San liked him or not? Why did it bother him so deeply when San turned cold or indifferent again?

He didn’t have a real answer to that yet, and maybe he wasn't ready to admit the truth—not even to himself. Because if Yunho were honest, he’d admit that each time San turned away, it stung far more than he wanted it to. He’d admit that his heart raced whenever San looked genuinely happy, whenever he smiled, whenever he laughed freely, unguarded and beautiful in ways Yunho had never noticed before.

But admitting those things felt dangerous, reckless even. They were supposed to be pretending; the feelings weren’t supposed to be real. Yet Yunho couldn’t stop himself from hoping that, maybe someday soon, San would stop running. Maybe he’d let Yunho close enough to finally understand him. Until then, Yunho could only hope, wait, and pretend that the ache in his chest didn't mean anything at all.

It was the first official free day at camp, and Yunho had made full use of it by sleeping in, savoring the feeling of not needing to wake up to a shrill alarm or the chatter of their professors. As he slowly opened his eyes, the sunlight streaming through the tent entrance made him blink rapidly, adjusting to the brightness. He glanced to his side, immediately noticing San’s empty sleeping bag. For some reason, it left him feeling slightly disappointed—though he quickly brushed off that thought.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Mingi greeted him teasingly, stretching lazily in his own sleeping bag, already wide awake.

Yunho groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Why didn’t anyone wake me?”

“Thought you were gonna sleep all morning,” Wooyoung joked from the other side of Mingi, scrolling lazily on his phone. “Wasn’t sure you were even alive, honestly.”

Yunho laughed softly, feeling refreshed despite the teasing. “Well, I needed some quality sleep after surviving this first wild week.”

He glanced around, confusion crossing his face as he realized they were the only ones still in the tent. Jongho, seeing Yunho's puzzled expression, answered before he could ask.

“Everyone else went to breakfast already. San and the others woke up hours ago,” Jongho explained casually, tying his shoelaces. Yunho nodded, trying to seem indifferent, though the mention of San made his stomach twist slightly.

“Don’t worry, though,” Wooyoung added dramatically. “We stayed behind to wait for you like good friends, sacrificing precious breakfast time.”

Yunho rolled his eyes but smiled gratefully. “Thanks, guys. You really are saints.”

Eventually, Yunho quickly dressed and followed his friends toward the dining area, stomach rumbling loudly enough to make Wooyoung snicker. When they reached the communal dining area, the long wooden tables were already crowded with chatting students. Yunho’s eyes immediately found San at one of the tables, sitting next to Yeosang, quietly sipping from a mug. Seonghwa spotted them first and waved enthusiastically.

“Over here!” he called brightly. “We saved seats for you!”

San’s gaze lifted at Seonghwa’s words, briefly meeting Yunho’s. Their eyes locked for just a second, causing Yunho’s heart to jump nervously, before San quickly averted his gaze, pretending to be busy with his breakfast.

Yunho took a deep breath, steadying himself, and forced a casual smile as he joined the group. He sat next to San, their knees briefly brushing under the table. San tensed slightly at the contact, but Yunho pretended not to notice, greeting everyone with a cheerful wave.

Hongjoong chuckled softly. “Thought you guys were planning on skipping breakfast completely.”

Yunho shrugged sheepishly. “I guess big bodies need to rest more.”

San gave a barely audible snort beside him, prompting Yunho to glance sideways with a slight smile. 

Seonghwa smiled brightly, clearly pleased to have everyone together. “You guys arrived at the perfect time,” he said cheerfully. “We were just talking about how we should spend our first free day. We were thinking about heading down to that bigger part of the river. You know, relax, swim—just have some fun. You should join us!”

At Seonghwa’s enthusiastic invitation, Yunho glanced at San, noticing the way his jaw tightened slightly, clearly uncomfortable with the plan. San seemed reluctant, almost visibly struggling with himself, but Yunho also knew by now that San rarely said no to anything Seonghwa suggested. He briefly wondered if it was loyalty, affection, or simply the crush San still secretly harbored.

Beside San, Yeosang gave a small sigh, quietly accepting the inevitable. Yunho bit back a smile, sympathetic for once—he could imagine how draining it was for Yeosang, always being caught between San’s stubbornness and Seonghwa’s optimism.

Meanwhile, his own friends seemed eager enough to join the fun. Mingi nodded with enthusiasm, already grinning.

“Sounds great! I was hoping we’d get a chance to enjoy the river anyway.”

Wooyoung, however, made a dramatic face of exaggerated suspicion. “I don’t know, guys… Remember when we checked out that river the first day? That water looked weird—super suspicious.”

Jongho rolled his eyes, nudging Wooyoung playfully. “You’re suspicious of everything.”

Wooyoung shot him an offended glare. “Well, excuse me for not wanting to swim in sketchy water!”

The table erupted into laughter, even San’s tense expression cracking slightly at Wooyoung’s theatrics, though he quickly schooled it back into place.

Feeling slightly bold and knowing they were still supposed to act like a believable couple, Yunho turned gently toward San, nudging him lightly with his elbow. “What do you think, Sannie? Want to join the others at the river?”

San hesitated for a second before turning slightly towards Yunho, his gaze still carefully avoiding Yunho’s eyes, focusing somewhere just over Yunho’s shoulder instead. His voice was dry and sarcastic as he responded, “Sounds wonderful. Can’t wait.”

Yunho suppressed a smile, recognizing San’s barely concealed annoyance. Clearly, the river wasn’t San’s idea of an enjoyable day, but Yunho was strangely amused by San’s stubbornness and sharp tongue.

He couldn’t quite pinpoint why San’s sarcastic response felt so endearing, but Yunho decided to push his luck a little further. “Great,” he replied warmly, offering San a bright smile he knew would irritate him just a bit more. “And don't worry, I’ll make sure you don’t drown.”

San scoffed, finally risking a quick glance at Yunho, his expression blank for just a brief moment before quickly looking away again. “How thoughtful,” he muttered dryly.

As the others continued chatting excitedly around them, Yunho found himself smiling softly, his heart quietly thrilled by the thought of spending the day with San—regardless of how sarcastic or tense San was determined to be towards him. 

When they finally reached the river, Yunho felt a sense of relief wash over him. In daylight, the water no longer looked suspicious or questionable—just calm, clear, and surprisingly inviting. With a slow current, it resembled a small lake, gentle enough even for Wooyoung’s irrational anxieties. Their group quickly settled in a quiet area further upstream, where fewer campers had gathered. Yunho knew it was mostly at the insistence of San and Yeosang, who clearly valued their peace, but even Hongjoong had backed up the decision. Yunho didn’t mind; the solitude gave the spot a relaxing charm.

Mingi and Wooyoung wasted no time shedding their shirts and rushing toward the water, Wooyoung making exaggerated shrieks as his toes touched the cool surface. Jongho trailed behind, shaking his head in amusement and laughing softly. Yunho paused briefly, glancing at San, who stood with Yeosang near their bags, clearly planning on staying firmly rooted to dry ground. Yunho hesitated for just a moment before approaching him with a gentle, playful smile.

“San-ah,” Yunho called softly, noticing the wary expression instantly appear on San’s face. “You sure you don’t want to come in, even just for a bit?”

“No,” San replied flatly, stubbornly avoiding Yunho’s gaze. “I’m perfectly fine here. Thank you.”

Yunho glanced toward Seonghwa, a mischievous idea suddenly coming to mind. “Come on, just for a minute, it'll be fun,” he urged gently, loud enough for Seonghwa to overhear. Seonghwa, predictably, turned to San immediately, his eyes bright with encouragement.

“You should join them, Sannie,” Seonghwa chimed in cheerfully. “You might enjoy the water.”

San looked visibly trapped, feeling both Seonghwa’s hopeful gaze and Hongjoong’s quietly curious stare. He sighed, clearly torn, before finally mumbling in resignation, “I’ll think about it. Maybe later.”

Yunho grinned victoriously, placing his shirt on top San's shoulder and tossing him a playful glance. “Hold onto that for me, okay?”

San scoffed, but Yunho didn’t miss the slight flush that crept onto his cheeks as he looked away, gripping Yunho’s shirt a bit too tightly in his hands.

Laughing softly, Yunho finally turned and jogged toward the water, his friends shouting at him to hurry up. When he hit the water, cool and refreshing against his skin, he felt his worries slowly melt away. As his friends splashed around him—Wooyoung dramatically shrieking whenever something brushed against his leg underwater—Yunho found himself repeatedly glancing back at San, who was still sitting stiffly next to Yeosang, clutching Yunho’s shirt and stubbornly refusing to look their way. Something about the sight warmed Yunho’s chest in a way he couldn’t fully understand, nor did he really want to explore right now.

ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬ꔛ‬

San was irritated—no, beyond irritated, he was pissed. He’d woken up that morning to Yunho’s stupid sleeping face right next to him, mouth slightly open, emitting tiny, ridiculously cute noises as he slept. San had glared at him for longer than he cared to admit, silently wondering how someone could be so infuriating, even in their sleep. Everything Yunho did managed to annoy him lately.

Breakfast had been another disaster. The moment Seonghwa suggested spending their first precious free day at the river, San’s stomach twisted. He had zero interest in spending his precious free day splashing around in questionable water. All he'd wanted to do was curl up and sleep—away from everyone else, especially Yunho and his endless energy. Yet, as always, one pleading look from Seonghwa's big, hopeful eyes, filled with warmth and affection, was enough to crumble San’s defenses. It frustrated him endlessly how easily he gave in. He really needed to learn how to say no to Seonghwa someday—but today clearly wasn't that day.

And now here he was, dragged unwillingly to the riverbank, sitting grumpily with Yeosang while Yunho and his unbearably loud friends splashed around and laughed like little kids. He watched them from the corner of his eye, scowling as Yunho tossed his head back in laughter, his wet hair catching the sunlight. San groaned inwardly, feeling an irritating flutter in his chest. He quickly shook his head, desperately trying to erase that stupid thought. He turned sharply to Yeosang, whose attention seemed more focused on a small pebble at his feet than San’s rant.

“I swear, Yeosang, Yunho is the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” San complained bitterly, his tone heated even as he kept his voice low. “He never shuts up, never stops smiling, never stops teasing, and—ugh, have you noticed how he sleeps? Even that’s annoying!”

Yeosang merely nodded slowly, offering a quiet hum of acknowledgment without actually engaging with San’s tirade. San knew his best friend was used to this by now—used to hearing him rant about Yunho, Seonghwa, and practically everyone around him.

“Why does everyone have to be so damn cheerful all the time?” San muttered, crossing his arms tightly across his chest, glaring toward the water again.

Yet his eyes betrayed him, drifting back toward Yunho almost immediately. Yunho, who was currently laughing so brightly, pushing his wet hair back as water droplets glistened on his skin, looking like the very definition of happiness. San felt his cheeks heat up uncomfortably and quickly snapped his gaze away, frustrated with himself for even noticing. He hated Yunho—that was what he kept repeating to himself every single day—but still, he couldn’t explain why his pulse quickened every time Yunho smiled at him or why he felt an odd pang in his chest whenever he laughed so bright, so stunning.

Thankfully, Seonghwa and Hongjoong had wandered upstream for a walk, leaving San alone with Yeosang and mercifully free from Seonghwa’s constant attempts at forcing him into awkward interactions with Yunho. Yet somehow, even without Seonghwa’s meddling, San found his thoughts repeatedly drifting back to Yunho.

“Seriously, how did I end up here?” San groaned aloud, burying his face in his hands. “I just wanted to sleep all day, Yeosang. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

Yeosang finally turned, offering him a tiny, knowing smile. “You never do, but you always go along with what Seonghwa says anyway.”

San glared half-heartedly at him, sighing deeply in defeat as his friend calmly returned to staring at the river, leaving San once again trapped with his annoyingly conflicting thoughts about Yunho and his irritatingly cute smile. 

He was still sulking quietly at the water's edge, occasionally casting irritated glances toward Yunho, when suddenly Yunho called out to him from the river.

"San, Yeosang! You really won’t come in?" Yunho shouted cheerfully, waving at them with that infuriatingly bright smile.

Mingi stood next to Yunho, dripping wet, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, come on! The water isn't nearly as cold as it looks!"

Wooyoung immediately shot Mingi a betrayed look. "Speak for yourself! It's freezing—I swear my toes have gone numb already."

Yunho laughed and rolled his eyes. "It's not that bad. You get used to it after the first two minutes, I promise."

San shook his head firmly, arms crossed stubbornly over his chest. "Absolutely not."

Yeosang echoed the sentiment, though more gently. "Thanks, but I think I'll stay dry today."

Just as San thought he’d successfully escaped being dragged into Yunho's ridiculous games, Seonghwa and Hongjoong returned from their walk upstream. And, without any warning, Seonghwa sprinted past them with a joyous yell, leaping into the river with a spectacular splash that soaked everyone nearby. San couldn’t help but smile a little, though he quickly hid it.

Hongjoong, shaking his head with mild exasperation but fondness in his eyes, followed behind, slipping into the water more gracefully.

"Sannie, Yeosangie! Come on!" Seonghwa shouted from the river, splashing enthusiastically. "The water's perfect!"

San sighed dramatically, glaring stubbornly at his friend. "Still no."

But then, something suspicious happened. Seonghwa exchanged a conspiratorial glance with Yunho, their eyes gleaming mischievously. Before San had time to react properly, both Yunho and Seonghwa were rushing toward him, laughing as they emerged from the water, dripping wet.

"No!" San protested weakly, scrambling backward, panic and embarrassment mixing in his chest. "Wait! No, no, no—"

But it was too late. He was trapped instantly in a soaked embrace between Seonghwa and Yunho, their cold, wet bodies pressing against his dry clothes. San squirmed half-heartedly, desperately trying to push them away.

"Yeosang! Help!" San called out, desperation evident in his voice. Yeosang simply laughed softly, completely betraying their friendship as he watched the scene unfold with amused eyes.

"Sorry, San-ah," Yeosang shrugged lightly, chuckling. "You're on your own."

San groaned as Yunho wrapped his arms firmly around his waist, laughing joyfully alongside Seonghwa. San tried not to acknowledge how his heart pounded nervously at Yunho's touch, the warmth radiating from his body despite the cold water.

"No, seriously, let go!" San insisted, squirming half-heartedly, but Yunho’s grip was firm and gentle at the same time.

"Come on, just trust me," Yunho whispered softly into San’s ear, his breath warm and unexpectedly comforting. San's protests immediately died in his throat as heat rose to his cheeks.

Before he could gather himself to respond, Yunho and Seonghwa easily lifted him, carrying him toward the river. San let out one last indignant yelp before being plunged into the water, Yunho still securely holding him close. The cold water hit him all at once, shocking his system. San emerged spluttering, water dripping from his face, eyes wide in stunned disbelief. Reflexively, his arms tightened around Yunho’s neck, clinging to him for support as he coughed out the water he'd accidentally swallowed. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he felt Yunho’s arms remain firmly wrapped around his waist, pulling him even closer.