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Riki had always been aware that he was embarrassingly in love with Jungwon. It was a fact he’d accepted years ago, back when scraped knees were badges of honor and sharing ice creams was a daily ritual in their old neighborhood. Jungwon had always had this annoying habit of smiling like sunshine lived in his eyes, and it had always made Riki's heart flip helplessly. But he’d gotten pretty good at hiding it—at least, that's what he told himself.
But apparently, the universe had decided it wasn't enough punishment, because after one summer spent in Japan with his sisters deciding he needed a makeover, he returned taller, sharper, and (according to Sunghoon) "actually kinda hot now." When Jungwon first saw him, his eyes widened in surprise, cheeks dusted pink before he quickly looked away—only to sneak another glance a second later.
“What?” Riki asked, a teasing smirk on his face even though his pulse raced uncomfortably. Calm down, idiot. You should be used to Jungwon by now.
Jungwon blinked rapidly, then cleared his throat, trying—and failing—to sound unimpressed. “Nothing. I just didn't expect you’d actually manage to grow taller than me.” His voice wavered slightly at the end, and Riki didn’t miss how Jungwon’s eyes flickered up and down his body - like he was checking again that what he was seeing was real.
“Jealous? Or do you maybe like the view from down there?” Riki grinned cheekily, leaning closer, heart thundering traitorously inside his chest. Please say yes. Wait, no—don’t actually say yes.
Jungwon rolled his eyes, but this time his ears turned pink. He gave Riki a shove, a little weaker than usual. “You wish.”
Yeah, Riki thought helplessly. I really do.
Since then, Jungwon had been a mess of contradictions—one moment teasing with that confident smirk, the next caught staring with wide eyes and flushed cheeks like Riki had personally offended him by existing. During dance practice, in class, at lunch—always sneaking glances when he thought Riki wasn’t looking.
Riki played along, because what else could he do? Every time their eyes met, he’d throw Jungwon a cocky grin, pretending his heart wasn’t trying to beat out of his chest. But inside, he was losing his mind. Was Jungwon just messing with him? Was this some elaborate joke?
It was driving him insane.
With his oblivious head so deep in his ass the thought that Jungwon might actually like him back didn't even enter his mind.
One lazy afternoon, sprawled across Sunghoon’s couch after practice, Riki groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his face. Why did liking someone have to be this exhausting?
“Seriously?” Sunghoon scoffed, throwing a pillow that landed squarely on Riki’s stomach. “Just talk to him already. This is pathetic.”
“It’s not that easy,” Riki shot back, pushing the pillow aside with exaggerated irritation. “He’s just messing with me. Probably thinks it’s hilarious that I’m losing my mind.” Or worse, maybe he already knows how I feel and just thinks it’s funny.
“Or,” Sunghoon drawled, eyebrows raised pointedly, “he actually likes you back, and you’re just both idiots.”
Riki threw the pillow back, scowling even as his heart sped up traitorously. “Impossible.”
The next day when Riki caught Jungwon watching him in class—again—Jungwon’s eyes widened slightly, a faint blush creeping up his neck before he quickly masked it with a smirk.
“Like what you see?” Jungwon mouthed, but Riki didn’t miss the way his fingers fidgeted with the edge of his notebook.
Riki leaned back in his chair, tilting his head playfully even as panic flooded his chest. Act cool, just play it off. “Maybe,” he mouthed back, heart hammering.
Jungwon bit his lip—nervous? Flustered?—before turning away, but not before Riki saw the shy smile tugging at his lips.
Why does he keep looking at me like that?
But Jungwon, whether oblivious or just as wrecked as Riki was, tossed him one last glance over his shoulder—half challenge, half something softer—and Riki swore he was going to lose his mind.
Or his heart. Same difference.
If there was one thing Riki was sure of, it was that Jungwon had no idea what he was doing to him.
Because no sane person would act like that—like Riki was already his. Like it was normal to casually steal sips from Riki’s drink without asking, or fix his hair in the middle of the hallway, fingers brushing through his bangs with this soft, focused look that made Riki forget how to breathe.
It was the little things that killed him.
Like when Jungwon sat way too close during lunch, knees bumping under the table, pretending it was accidental even though there was plenty of space. Or when he grabbed Riki’s wrist to drag him along to class, fingers lingering just a second too long before letting go.
Riki could handle the teasing. He could handle the smirks and the playful insults—that was their thing. But this? This unconscious boyfriend behavior? It was lethal.
“Hold still,” Jungwon muttered one afternoon, frowning as he reached up to adjust Riki’s collar.
Riki froze, heart immediately betraying him as Jungwon’s fingers brushed against his neck. Too close. Way too close.
“You know,” Riki said, forcing a smirk to cover the way his pulse skyrocketed, “if you wanted an excuse to touch me, you could’ve just said so.”
Jungwon’s eyes flicked up to meet his, and for a split second, Riki thought he saw it—that same breathless tension he felt. But then Jungwon huffed a laugh, cheeks tinged pink as he pulled back.
“Dream on, Nishimura.”
Riki watched him turn away, pretending to focus on stuffing his books into his locker. But his hands were moving too fast, too awkward.
He’s flustered, Riki realized, stomach flipping. That wasn’t nothing.
“Hey, Jungwon,” Riki called, leaning casually against the lockers, enjoying the way Jungwon stiffened slightly at his tone.
“What now?” Jungwon asked without looking up.
Riki let his gaze drift over Jungwon’s profile, the curve of his cheek, the way his lashes fluttered when he blinked. God, he was so screwed.
“Nothing,” Riki said, lips curling into a grin he didn’t quite feel. “Just wondering how long you’re gonna keep acting like my boyfriend before you make it official.”
That got Jungwon’s attention. He snapped his head up, eyes wide, mouth opening like he wanted to argue—but no words came out. His face flushed deep red before he quickly shoved Riki away, mumbling something about being late for class.
Riki laughed, but it was mostly to cover the way his heart was racing.
For the rest of the day Jungwon just kept acting like that - still flustered, still touchy.
And the worst part? Riki didn't want it to stop.
Jungwon’s birthday was on a Friday, which meant one thing: chaos.
Sunghoon had offered his house for the party, which was basically code for "no adult supervision" and "someone is definitely bringing alcohol." Riki hadn’t planned on drinking—he liked to keep his head clear—but watching Jungwon waltz in, all flushed cheeks and soft sweater sleeves, had him reconsidering.
It should’ve been illegal to look that good while balancing a tray of cupcakes.
“Happy birthday, party princess,” Riki greeted when Jungwon made it to the kitchen, placing the tray down.
“Princess?” Jungwon deadpanned, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Bold of you to say that when you wore eyeliner to school last week.”
Riki gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “That was fashion. You wouldn’t understand.”
Jungwon snorted, but his cheeks were a little pink, and he didn’t pull away when Riki bumped their shoulders together. God, don’t get soft now, Riki warned himself.
The party picked up quickly—music loud, snacks disappearing fast, and red solo cups multiplying like gremlins. Riki nursed a drink while watching Jungwon chat with their friends on the couch, legs folded under him, laughing at something Jake said. His hair flopped into his eyes and Riki had to physically stop himself from walking over just to brush it back.
He was down bad.
“Why are you staring like a heartbroken Disney character?” Sunghoon asked, appearing next to him with a drink of his own.
“I’m not,” Riki lied. He so was.
“He’s tipsy already,” Sunghoon said. “Bet you two kisses and a confession by midnight.”
“Shut up.” Riki rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop watching.
And then Jungwon’s eyes found his.
For a second, the noise of the party blurred out. Jungwon blinked, slow and deliberate, then smiled. Soft. Familiar. Warm.
And fuck, that smile was for him.
Later, Riki found himself in the kitchen, grabbing another soda, when Jungwon cornered him again, giggling as he reached up and tried to smooth Riki’s hair. His fingers brushed Riki’s forehead, lingering far longer than necessary.
“You’re too pretty,” Jungwon slurred, voice low and secretive.
Riki almost dropped the soda.
“You’re drunk,” he muttered, but his face was burning.
“No, I’m max a little tipsy but that doesn’t make my statement less true” Jungwon said with a lopsided grin before wandering off, leaving Riki standing there like a statue.
Jake walked by and smirked. “You’re so done for.”
“No, I’m not,” Riki muttered.
Jake just laughed and clapped him on the back.
By the time midnight hit, Jungwon was visibly not just tipsy but full on drunk —flushed, bright-eyed, and somehow even clingier. Riki tried to enjoy the party, chatting with classmates, playing a few rounds of stupid party games, but his eyes kept darting back to Jungwon.
He wasn’t even being subtle anymore—every time Riki looked over, Jungwon was already staring, dreamy and soft.
Finally, Jungwon stumbled over to him again, grinning like an idiot.
“Rikiiii,” he whined, dragging out his name. “Dance with me.”
Riki blinked, scrambling for an excuse. "Too many people watching," he said instead, because the idea of holding Jungwon that close, here, now, with half the party looking? Immediate cardiac arrest.
Jungwon shrugged. "Don’t care. Wanna dance with you."
God, help me, Riki thought, heart doing stupid somersaults.
“You’re drunk,” Riki said weakly.
Jungwon leaned closer, whispering like it was a secret just for him. “Still want you.”
Riki was about two seconds from combusting.
Someone bumped into them, laughing too loud, and Jungwon stumbled into Riki fully, chest pressed to chest for a second too long. He tilted his head up, close enough that Riki could count every of his lashes.
“Rikiiii,” Jungwon whined playfully again, “you’re warm.”
“You’re wasted,” Riki muttered, struggling to breathe normally.
Jungwon giggled, cheeks rosy. "Only a little."
"Alright," Riki said quickly, heart slamming against his ribs, "you're officially cut off."
Jungwon pouted as Riki took the cup from his hand, lower lip jutting out so cutely it should have been illegal. He didn't protest, though, when Riki guided him upstairs to one of Sunghoon’s guest rooms, stumbling slightly with every other step.
“Are you putting me to bed?” Jungwon teased, words slurring just a little.
“Someone’s gotta keep you from confessing your undying love to me in front of half the school,” Riki said, trying to laugh it off. His heart, though, was going through it.
Jungwon flopped dramatically onto the bed, limbs splayed out, hair a mess. “Would that be so bad?” he mumbled.
“Jungwon—”
Jungwon reached up, grabbing Riki’s wrist before he could pull away. His eyes were glassy, a little unfocused, but the emotion in them was painfully clear.
"I wasn't joking, you know," he slurred, voice thick and sweet. "I really... like being with you. Always have."
Riki stared at him, frozen. Every nerve in his body screamed Jungwon.
Jungwon tugged lightly. "Come here," he said, then added with a teasing, drunken smirk, "Bet you taste even better than you look." His voice was low, reckless, dripping with something that hit Riki like a punch to the gut. Riki's brain short-circuited. He hadn’t been prepared for that. His mind was a mix of What the fuck. What the actual fuck. Nope. Abort. ABORT. and flashing red lights and danger signs.
Jungwon was still looking up at him from the bed, flushed cheeks, hair messy, eyes wide and glimmering with something dangerously close to hope. A teasing little smile tugged at his lips, like he truly believed Riki might give in. For a moment, Riki almost did. A stupid, traitorous part of him wanted to give in—to lean down and let Jungwon wreck him completely. He nearly had to physically slap himself back to reality. Shit, no, he's drunk. I need to go or I'm gonna do something really, really stupid. Like kiss him.
“Call me when you’re sober,” Riki whispered, voice barely steady.
And then he gently slipped his wrist free and left the room without looking back before he could do said really, really stupid thing.
Fuck staying sober. I need a drink.
Morning sunlight stabbed directly into Riki’s skull.
He groaned, slapping a hand over his face. His head hurt, his throat was dry, and worst of all—he remembered everything.
The way Jungwon had smiled at him. Touched him. Tugged him closer with drunken, reckless hands. The way he’d said—
Bet you taste even better than you look.
Riki groaned again, louder, and rolled over, faceplanting into the couch. Somewhere in the house, someone was already making coffee. The smell was strong enough to cut through his misery.
He had managed to avoid everyone so far, pretending to still be asleep while the rest of the group shuffled around, groggy and hungover. But he couldn't hide forever.
After about twenty minutes of laying there miserably, he dragged himself up to look for water. Halfway down the hall, voices drifted from the bathroom where the door was half-open.
"You seriously don't remember?" Sunoo's voice, curious and teasing.
"No, I remember," Jungwon muttered. "God, I remember everything."
Riki froze, heart hammering.
Don't listen. Walk away. Just walk away.
Sunoo laughed. "You basically confessed your undying love to Riki, you know."
"I know!" Jungwon groaned. "It’s so embarrassing. I was drunk. It—it didn’t mean anything."
Something sharp twisted in Riki’s chest, the breath knocked out of him.
Didn’t mean anything. Right. Of course.
"He probably thinks I'm crazy now," Jungwon mumbled.
Sunoo snickered. "Maybe he liked it."
"No way," Jungwon said quickly. "He probably thinks it was just—"
Riki backed away before he could hear more, stomach knotting painfully.
Good. Great. Maybe it was better this way.
Better to know now. Better than hoping for nothing.
He dragged himself into the kitchen where half their friend group was already gathered, looking half-dead but alive enough to gossip.
Shortly after Riki found a vacant seat Jungwon waltzed in with a cup of coffee in both hands like it was a lifeline. His hair was still messy, cheeks a little flushed. When he spotted Riki, his whole face lit up with a soft but bright smile.
Riki’s heart twisted cruelly. He had to look away.
Stop looking at me like that. Please don't make this harder than it already is.
He filled a cup with coffee he didn’t even want, pretending to focus on the simple motions, anything but the weight of Jungwon’s gaze.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sunghoon shift, clearly about to open his big mouth. Riki caught his gaze and sent him a sharp, warning glare. Don’t you dare.
Sunghoon faltered, visibly hesitating. His eyes flicked over Riki’s face, reading the exhaustion there, the tight way he was holding himself together. For once, blessedly, he kept his mouth shut.
The conversation around them moved on without disaster, the group laughing about something stupid Jake said.
Riki stayed silent, stirring his coffee like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
He felt so disconnected from it all, like he was watching the world from behind a glass wall. Laughing felt impossible. Breathing felt like work.
When Jungwon’s laughter rang out across the table—bright, soft, painfully familiar—Riki felt something inside him crack wide open.
Get it together. Pretend you’re fine. You’ve been doing it for years.
Yeah. This was fine.
Everything was fine.
He just had to survive it.
It turned out “surviving it” was harder than Riki thought.
Over the next week, he perfected the art of pretending.
He still showed up to school. Still hung out with the group during lunch. Still shot back sarcastic comments when Sunghoon or Jake tried to start something. Still smiled whenever Jungwon teased him.
But it wasn’t the same.
Something in him had folded in on itself. Where he used to lean into Jungwon’s touches, laugh at his dumb jokes, shove him back when he got too clingy—now he just… froze. Pulled away. Smiled too tightly.
And Jungwon noticed.
He’d started looking at Riki differently. Less teasing, more… confused. Hurt, sometimes. Like he didn’t understand why the dynamic between them had shifted overnight.
Riki hated it. He hated himself for causing it.
But what else could he do? Pretend it hadn’t shattered him to hear Jungwon say “it didn’t mean anything”?
He couldn’t. He wasn’t that strong.
And it wasn’t like Jungwon had tried to fix it. He hadn't pulled Riki aside. Hadn't said anything about that night. Just… acted like nothing happened, like they were still the same, even though everything inside Riki screamed that they weren't.
Meanwhile, the school was buzzing with preparations for the upcoming Fall Club Exhibition Day—a full-day event where every club could showcase their work to attract new members. Posters were everywhere. Students were frantically building displays and planning performances.
Jungwon, as part of the student council, had his hands full overseeing the chaos. He was running around coordinating schedules, approving budgets, and solving last-minute disasters with his usual stubborn efficiency.
And Riki, as captain of the dance team, was right in the middle of it too—organizing rehearsals, designing their stage setup, preparing new routines.
The worst part?
Riki couldn't even avoid him properly. Not with the their club work looming over them both. Jungwon was everywhere—in meetings, in rehearsals, hovering nearby with that same confused look in his eyes. Riki tried to dodge him, to keep his distance, but it was impossible. Their paths crossed constantly, each encounter twisting the knife a little deeper.
And at the end of the day, despite all of Riki's best efforts to stay numb, he just… missed him.
Missed the easy way they used to be. Missed Jungwon leaning into him like it was natural. Missed the stupid inside jokes and the way Jungwon always stole his fries when he thought Riki wasn’t looking.
He missed him so much it made him angry.
Which was why, when Jungwon slid into the seat next to him in the library during study hall, Riki stiffened like he’d been electrocuted.
"Hey," Jungwon said quietly, bumping their knees together like he didn’t notice how Riki flinched.
"Hey," Riki muttered back, eyes glued to the worksheet in front of him.
A beat of silence. Then:
"Did I... do something wrong?" Jungwon asked, voice small.
Riki’s throat closed up.
He forced himself to shake his head, still not looking up. "No."
Another pause.
"You’ve been weird lately. Different," Jungwon said, sounding almost… vulnerable.
Riki bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood.
"Just busy," he lied.
Jungwon didn’t buy it. Riki could feel his stare, heavy and hurt and desperate for something Riki didn’t know how to give.
"I miss you," Jungwon said, so softly Riki almost thought he imagined it.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, willing himself not to break.
"I'm right here," he said flatly.
But they both knew it wasn’t true.
Not really.
Jungwon didn’t give up easily.
Over the next few days, Riki could feel him trying—small things. Sitting closer than necessary. Bringing him snacks he didn’t ask for. Smiling at him like nothing had changed.
And Riki, like an idiot, kept pretending he didn’t notice.
It was easier that way. Less dangerous. Less painful.
Until Friday.
They were walking home from school, just the two of them, the sky a deep navy overhead. Their breath curled white in the cold air. Riki shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets, staring straight ahead.
Jungwon kept pace beside him, too close, the silence stretching tight between them.
Finally, Jungwon broke.
“Do you hate me now or something?” he asked, and the words were so raw, so abrupt, Riki actually stumbled a little.
He snapped his head toward Jungwon, who was frowning at the sidewalk, hands balled into fists at his sides.
"What?" Riki croaked.
"You’ve been acting like you can’t stand being around me," Jungwon said, voice shaking slightly. "I don’t get it. I—I thought we were okay."
Riki stopped walking.
Jungwon stopped too, a few steps ahead, and turned to face him.
The streetlights painted him in soft gold. His hair was messy from the wind. His cheeks were flushed from the cold.
He looked so painfully beautiful it hurt.
Riki swallowed thickly, forcing his voice out.
"I'm just tired," he said, lying through his teeth.
Jungwon didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push.
Instead, after a long, tense moment, he said quietly, "I really miss you."
Something cracked in Riki’s chest.
He dropped his gaze to the sidewalk, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets.
"I miss you too," he admitted, so soft he wasn’t even sure Jungwon heard him. "I am so sorry Wonie..."
For a beat, neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke.
And then, slowly, Jungwon bumped their shoulders together, just like he used to.
"We’re still us, right?" Jungwon asked, almost tentative.
Riki hesitated—then, carefully, bumped him back.
"Yeah," he said. "We’re still us."
And then—like it was the easiest thing in the world—Jungwon reached down and slipped his hand into Riki's.
Fingers tangling together like they belonged there.
Riki stiffened for half a second—then let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t understand it. But he clutched Jungwon’s hand back just as tightly, letting himself be selfish for once.
The next day, it was like nothing had changed—or maybe, like everything had.
Jungwon was back to being clingy. Insanely clingy.
But it wasn’t just dragging Riki around anymore.
He saved Riki a seat everywhere they went, always sliding in next to him before anyone else could. He grabbed Riki's backpack out of his hand after practice, slinging it over his own shoulder with a smug little grin like it was no big deal. He even showed up at Riki’s dance rehearsal after school, claiming he needed to “monitor for the festival,” but spent the entire time sitting cross-legged against the wall, openly staring at Riki like he’d personally invented gravity.
Riki nearly tripped over his own feet multiple times under the weight of that gaze.
And then, to top it off, Jungwon showed up at Riki’s desk later with his favorite drink, setting it down wordlessly with a shy little shrug, cheeks pink.
And Riki… Riki let him.
Confused out of his mind, but helpless to pull away.
What the hell is he doing? Riki thought as he caught Jungwon staring again—not even bothering to pretend he wasn’t—eyes soft and warm and so stupidly full of something Riki couldn’t even name. He said it didn’t mean anything. So why does he act like…?
Riki didn't have any answers.
All he knew was that every time Jungwon smiled at him, touched him, leaned into him like he couldn't help it—Riki let himself fall a little harder.
He was so, so screwed.
The Fall Club Exhibition Day was just around the corner, and they had too much to prepare for anyway. Too many distractions. Too many excuses to stay close.
Later—later, Riki could deal with everything else.
For now, he’d let himself have this much.
"I'm going insane," Riki hissed, slumping onto the bleachers during their quick break from dance practice.
Sunghoon flopped down next to him with a lazy grin. "No shit. I've been watching this slow-motion car crash for weeks."
"He's driving me crazy," Riki muttered, scrubbing his hands over his face. "I don't get it. He said it didn't mean anything—I heard him—but now he's… he's like this."
Sunghoon snickered. "'Like this,' you mean… hopelessly whipped and acting like your clingy boyfriend?"
Riki groaned into his palms. "Exactly. What am I supposed to do with that? How am I supposed to cope with that long-term?"
"Maybe," Sunghoon said, elbowing him, "you could ask him why he acts like that. Revolutionary idea."
"Nope," Riki said immediately, sitting up. "Can't do it. I can't… I'd rather get an actual rejection than him saying he just flirts with me for fun again."
Sunghoon eyed him for a long moment, then smirked. "Then confess first."
Riki stared at him like he'd lost his mind.
"I'm serious," Sunghoon said, leaning back on his elbows. "You know the Fall Club Exhibition Day is basically a stage for drama, right? Half the couples who end up together every year start with some stupid public confession."
Riki scowled. "I'm not about to pull a 'Will you date me' banner out of my ass in front of the whole school."
"You don't have to," Sunghoon said, waving a hand. "Just… make it subtle. Play it cool."
He wiggled his eyebrows. "Use your dance performance."
Riki blinked. "What?"
"That thing you have going on already feels like a real life K-Drama" Sunghoon said. "Act like the male lead you apparently are and use the one thing you're actually capable of doing right. Dance. Make the whole thing one giant, passive-aggressive confession."
Riki gawked at him.
"You're insane," he said.
"And yet, not wrong," Sunghoon chirped. "Come on, Niki. You’re already dying inside. What's the worst that happens? He rejects you? At least you’d get a real answer."
Riki opened his mouth to argue—and then closed it.
Because…
Sunghoon wasn’t wrong.
If he did this—if he danced it out, threw his heart onto the stage—maybe he could finally get closure. Real closure. Not whatever this half-dead thing between them was now.
Even if it hurt.
Even if it killed him.
At least he'd know.
Riki blew out a breath, heart hammering.
"The program's already set," he muttered. "Two days isn't enough time to choreograph something new."
Sunghoon snorted. "You're Riki. If anyone can do it, you can."
Riki bit his lip.
Maybe he was right.
Maybe it was time to stop hiding.
He might even already have the perfect song for this.
Fall Club Exhibition Day was chaos.
Students swarmed every hallway, rushing between booths, cheering for performances, dragging their friends to club tables decorated in everything from glitter to streamers. The gym was packed to bursting, the air buzzing with noise and excitement.
And Riki? Riki was dying inside.
He tugged at his jacket, heartbeat rattling in his chest. His group’s dance slot was coming up fast, and he hadn't slept properly in two nights thanks to last-minute choreography changes and a healthy dose of pure, unfiltered terror.
What if he doesn't even notice? Riki thought miserably. What if this all blows up in my face?
"You good?" Jake asked, bumping his shoulder as they waited backstage.
"Peachy," Riki lied. His palms were sweating. His stomach was doing backflips.
Out on the floor, Jungwon was running around with a clipboard, managing some scheduling disaster, eyebrows furrowed in that way that made Riki want to grab him and smooth the lines away with his thumbs.
Focus, Riki told himself. This is about getting answers. Closure. That’s all.
The MC called their club up next, and before he could second-guess himself, Riki jogged out with the others, heart pounding so loud he barely heard the applause.
The music started.
A heavy beat filled the gym, energetic, fun, exactly what they planned to present their club.
They moved through the group routine seamlessly, energy light and playful, the crowd eating it up—but Riki’s mind was laser-focused. Waiting.
Find him. Look at him.
Then, when the others fell back, he stepped forward alone.
His solo.
Yeonjun’s "Boyfriend" started playing, the soft beat curling through the crowd, flirty but achingly vulnerable underneath.
He danced softer than usual—more intimate, more honest. Smiling just a little. Every move less about technical perfection and more about feeling.
Please see me, he thought desperately. Please understand.
And he found Jungwon in the crowd—
Frozen. Staring. Looking like he wanted to be anywhere but stuck watching Riki tear his heart out right there on the floor.
The music faded.
The crowd roared.
Riki bowed quickly, jogging offstage with the others, heart hammering so hard he barely noticed Sunghoon trying to high-five him.
Because suddenly Jungwon was there, grabbing his wrist.
"What was that?" Jungwon blurted, cheeks flushed, voice breathless.
Riki stared at him. This is it. No running anymore.
"What do you think it was?"
Jungwon shook his head, words tangling. "The—the solo. You—you weren’t supposed to—I mean—"
Riki huffed a laugh. "It meant exactly what the song was about," he said, meeting Jungwon's wide, desperate eyes. "I-... I want to know why you're always looking at me like I'm your boyfriend. Why you act like it."
Jungwon opened his mouth, but Riki kept going "I am starting to go crazy Jungwon" voice quieter now, trembling at the edges.
"I heard you, you know. After the party. Talking to Sunoo. Saying none of the things you said that night meant anything."
The memory burned hot behind his ribs.
"I’m so confused" Riki whispered. "I can't handle it for much longer. If you don't feel the same, just reject me properly so I can stop hoping. Please."
The second the last word left Riki’s mouth, Jungwon grabbed him by the front of his jacket—
And yanked him down.
"I look at you that way," Jungwon said fiercely, "because I want you to be my boyfriend, you idiot." with a last determined tug on Riki's jacket, Jungwon closed the distance.
Riki’s brain exploded.
Every rational thought vanished under the tidal wave of Jungwon’s mouth moving against his—soft, a little clumsy, desperate—and Riki kissed back just as frantically, gripping his waist like it was the only thing keeping him standing.
Is this real? Am I dreaming?
The world blurred out completely.
When they finally pulled apart, Jungwon’s forehead pressed against Riki’s, both of them breathing hard.
"I'm so sorry," Jungwon whispered, voice cracking. "I didn't mean what I said to Sunoo. I was… embarrassed. I just wanted him to stop teasing me. I meant—I meant everything i said to you."
Riki shut is eyes and let out a shaky breath. Relive. A smile found its way onte his face.
And then he kissed Jungwon again.
This time slower. Sweeter. Full of everything he'd been trying to hide for years.
Somewhere in the background, Sunghoon was whooping loud enough to make half the gym turn and stare. Riki flipped him off blindly without pulling away.
Later, when it was finally just the two of them tucked behind the gym, Riki leaned against the wall, watching Jungwon play with the hem of his jacket.
"So," Riki said, grinning, teasing "now that we cleared everything... do I taste even better than I look?"
Jungwon’s face flushed instantly—but instead of getting flustered, he lifted his gaze with a smirk.
"Can't tell yet," he said cheekily, voice dropping just slightly. "still have to taste what I meant that night."
His eyes flickered downward for a split second—
And Riki nearly fainted.
He's going to kill me. Finally.