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The relentless Wellington wind whipped around the corner of the Victoria University campus, carrying the scent of salt from the harbour and damp earth from the Botanical Gardens. Sim Jaeyun, known to everyone as Jake, clutched his worn leather satchel tighter, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. He was a creature of habit and quiet corners, his universe revolving around lecture halls, the hushed reverence of the library, and the comforting glow of his laptop screen. At twenty, he was an academic powerhouse, his grades the stuff of campus legend, a stark contrast to his painfully shy and introverted nature. His sharp tongue, usually reserved for witty comebacks delivered under his breath or scathing annotations in essay margins, was rarely unleashed in public.
His nemesis, Lee Heeseung, was the wind personified – loud, boisterous, impossible to ignore. At twenty-one, Heeseung was the undeniable king of the campus, a South Korean import who had seamlessly conquered the social hierarchy.
Tall, with a physique that seemed sculpted by a deity who moonlighted as a gym enthusiast, he moved with an easy, almost arrogant confidence. His very well-defined and frankly huge pecs strained against whatever fabric dared to cover them, and his biceps bulged with impressive regularity. Heeseung wasn't just muscular; he owned it. He frequently strolled around shirtless on warm days (and sometimes less warm ones, much to Jake's exasperation), his abdomen a roadmap of defined abs, his body a canvas of confidence.
And then there was the hair – a full, dark beard, a thick moustache, a carpet of chest hair, dark tufts under his arms. Heeseung loved it, flaunted it, and Jake, despite himself, noticed it. Heeseung was the definition of the cool, non-chalant, flirty bad-boy jock, draped in designer clothes one moment, gym gear the next, always surrounded by an entourage of admirers. Heeseung was the sun, blindingly bright and impossible to look away from, even if you desperately wanted to. Jake was the moon, content in the shadows, observing. Their paths crossed with irritating frequency, usually with a clash of some kind.
The latest clash had occurred just that morning in the campus café. Jake, attempting to navigate the morning rush with a precious flat white, had been effectively body-checked by Heeseung's broad shoulder as the jock had high-fived a teammate, sending coffee sloshing onto Jake's pristine white shirt.
"Ah, sorry, mate!" Heeseung had grinned, unapologetic, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that, frustratingly, was actually quite cute. "Didn't see ya there, Shorty!"
Jake had bristled, his shy facade cracking just enough for his sharp tongue to make a brief, cutting appearance. "Perhaps if you weren't so busy inhaling the collective praises of the student body, sunbae," Jake had retorted, using the Korean honorific with a distinct lack of respect, "you might occasionally look where you're going."
Heeseung's grin had widened. "Ooh, feisty today, aren't we? Like a little angry squirrel."
He hadn't offered to help clean up the coffee, just tossed another infuriatingly charming smile over his shoulder before swaggering off.
Jake had stood there, steaming (literally, from the coffee), clutching his now stained shirt, muttering about arrogant jocks and the sheer unfairness of someone so outwardly obnoxious possessing such undeniable physical appeal. He secretly hated how easily Heeseung could make his heart flutter with a simple smile, even as his brain composed elaborate insults.
Their rivalry wasn't just born of chance encounters. They were, in a twisted way, competitors. Heeseung, despite his bad-boy image, was surprisingly intelligent, excelling in business and sports management, areas that sometimes overlapped with Jake's more theoretical economics focus. There was an unspoken tension in shared lecture halls, a silent battle of wits conducted through subtly raised eyebrows and pointedly insightful questions directed at the lecturer.
Days bled into weeks, marked by study sessions that stretched late into the night for Jake and raucous parties for Heeseung. They continued to orbit each other, their interactions brief, often tense, and punctuated by Jake's reluctant use of 'sunbae' and Heeseung's playful teasing, usually about Jake's height, shyness, or the sheer volume of books he carried.
One rainy afternoon, trapped in the common area of their shared dormitory building (a stroke of administrative misfortune that Jake cursed daily), Jake was attempting to explain a complex economic model to a struggling classmate. Heeseung, draped over a nearby sofa, listening to music with one earbud in, suddenly interjected.
"Nah, mate, that's not quite right," Heeseung said, pulling out the earbud. "You're missing the leverage factor there. Think of it like a scrum – you need the collective push, not just individual strength."
Jake blinked, momentarily stunned. Heeseung? Talking economics? And using a rugby analogy?
"It's... a bit more nuanced than that, sunbae," Jake said slowly, recovering his composure.
Heeseung sat up, surprisingly engaged. "Is it? Break it down for me then, Shorty. Convince me your fancy graphs are better than brute force and strategy."
And, to his own astonishment, Jake did. Heeseung actually listened. He asked intelligent questions, debated points with a surprising grasp of the subject, and even seemed genuinely impressed. The classmate they were supposedly helping faded into the background as Jake and Heeseung engaged in an impromptu intellectual sparring match, their usual antagonistic dynamic momentarily forgotten.
That was the turning point. It wasn't a sudden friendship, but a grudging respect began to form. They found themselves talking more often, not just about classes, but about their lives. Heeseung talked about missing Korea, about the pressure to perform both academically and athletically, about his family's expectations. Jake, cautiously, shared glimpses of his Korean-Australian upbringing, the feeling of being slightly caught between two worlds, his passion for knowledge, and the quiet comfort he found in routine.
Heeseung's flirting didn't stop, but it shifted. It became less about getting a rise out of Jake and more about genuine amusement and, Jake suspected, a burgeoning affection.
"Still burying yourself in books, Jakey?" Heeseung would say, leaning over him in the library, the faint scent of his cologne (or was that just clean sweat and expensive soap?) distracting Jake.
"Someone has to ensure this university maintains a semblance of academic integrity, sunbae," Jake would retort, but his voice was softer now, the sass playful rather than defensive.
"Just call me Heeseung. Or better yet..." Heeseung would lower his voice, a playful glint in his eyes, "Oppa."
Jake would splutter, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. "Absolutely not, sunbae! That's... inappropriate."
"Is it?" Heeseung would grin, clearly enjoying Jake's reaction. "I think it's cute. You'd look adorable saying 'Oppa'."
Jake would just glare, a battle he knew he was losing, but he refused to yield on the 'oppa' front. 'Sunbae' eventually evolved into 'hyung', a sign of their closer relationship, a concession Jake made willingly. Heeseung accepted it for now, but the 'Oppa' teasing never truly stopped.
Their friendship solidified over late-night study sessions fueled by questionable instant noodles, cheering (or in Jake's case, quietly observing) Heeseung at rugby matches, and sharing stories about their families. Heeseung was boisterous and outgoing, easily drawing Jake out of his shell. Jake, in turn, offered Heeseung a calm, quiet space away from the constant demands of popularity and sports. Heeseung, for all his confidence, showed a surprising obedience when it came to Jake – if Jake quietly suggested they do something differently, Heeseung would often surprisingly agree, his usual swagger softening around the edges. Jake found a quiet power in this, a subtle dominance that was both unexpected and thrilling.
Exam season loomed, a dark cloud on the horizon for most students, but Jake thrived under the pressure. Heeseung, however, found it a necessary evil. College regulations, particularly for athletes representing the university, often required a clean-cut appearance for certain events or official photographs during exam periods. This meant Heeseung's beloved beard and moustache were on borrowed time.
One afternoon, Heeseung flopped onto the sofa next to Jake in the common room, groaning dramatically. "It's happening, Jakey. The Big Shave is upon us."
Jake looked up from his textbook, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "The exams?"
"Nah, worse," Heeseung sighed, running a hand over his thick beard. "The university wants 'professional' photos for the graduating class catalogue, and apparently, my glorious man-mane doesn't fit the brief. Plus, there's some alumni dinner thing I have to attend. My parents are already nagging."
Jake felt a strange mix of sympathy and... anticipation. Heeseung's facial hair, while undeniably a bold statement that suited his confident persona, sometimes felt like a barrier, hiding the softer curves of his jaw and the expressiveness of his mouth. He secretly wondered what Heeseung looked like without it, without the chest hair that peeked out from his shirt, without the dark growth on his arms. It was a curious, private fascination he never voiced.
"So, you're getting rid of it?" Jake asked, trying to sound neutral.
"Got an appointment tomorrow," Heeseung grumbled. "Proper old-school barber. Supposed to be an experience. My friend told me about it. Says they do the whole shebang."
"Right," Jake said, returning to his book, a small, secret thrill coiling in his stomach. Heeseung clean-shaven... He tucked the thought away, focusing on equilibrium models, but a part of his mind drifted, imagining the reveal.
The barber shop was tucked away on a quiet side street, a relic of a bygone era. Dark wood paneling, leather chairs, and the distinct scent of shaving soap and tonics filled the air. Heeseung settled into the main chair, a crisp white sheet draped around his neck. The barber, a man with steady hands and a kind face, nodded reassuringly.
"The works, then, mate?" he asked, his accent distinctly Kiwi.
"Yeah, the works," Heeseung replied, a hint of resignation in his voice. "Everything. Face, body, the lot. College requirement."
The barber nodded, understanding. "Happens this time of year. Alright, let's get you sorted."
He started with the face. A hot towel, thick and steaming, was draped over Heeseung's face, the warmth seeping into his skin, relaxing the muscles. Heeseung took a deep breath, the scent of eucalyptus and warmth filling his lungs. After a few moments, the towel was removed, leaving his skin soft and pliable.
The barber then produced a badger-hair brush, its bristles soft and full, and a tub of rich, creamy shaving soap. He swirled the brush in the soap, building a luxurious, thick lather. The brush, laden with the creamy foam, was applied to Heeseung's face, starting with the cheeks, working up to the temples, then down around the jawline, covering the thick beard and moustache in a blanket of white. The sensation was warm and soothing, a stark contrast to the rough texture of the hair being covered. The barber worked the lather into every crevice, ensuring the hairs were lifted and softened.
Next came the razor. A classic, straight razor, honed to perfection, glinting under the shop lights. The barber expertly stretched a section of Heeseung's cheek, his movements precise and confident. With a soft shhhk, the razor glided over the skin, removing the lather and the dark hair beneath in smooth, clean strokes.
The process was methodical. The barber moved from one section to the next, reapplying lather where needed, always ensuring the skin was taut before the razor made contact. The moustache was a careful operation, the barber working around the sensitive area under Heeseung's nose with practiced ease. Heeseung felt the familiar weight of his beard disappear, leaving his skin feeling strangely exposed, smooth and almost tingling.
Once the face was done, the barber shifted his focus. Heeseung removed his shirt, revealing his impressive torso. The barber prepared a fresh lather, this time applying it to Heeseung's chest, working it into the thick growth of dark hair that covered his pecs and abdomen. Heeseung watched in the mirror as the familiar landscape of his chest disappeared under the white foam. The barber, using the same straight razor, began to shave, the strokes long and smooth over the broad expanse of his chest, carefully outlining the curves of his huge pecs.
He moved down to the abdomen, following the line of his abs, the razor gliding over the toned muscle. Then came the arms, the biceps, the shoulders. The barber lathered and shaved, revealing smooth, sculpted skin beneath the hair. Heeseung felt a sense of detachment, watching his body transform. He usually loved his body hair, a symbol of his masculinity and confidence, but there was a strange, clean feeling to the smoothness that was undeniable.
The barber then tackled the more difficult areas. With Heeseung leaning forward, he applied lather to his back and lower back, areas Heeseung usually couldn't reach effectively himself. The razor worked its way across his broad back, over his shoulder blades, down to the curve of his spine. The nape of his neck was shaved clean, the hairline tidied.
Finally, the barber addressed his armpits and the hair on his limbs and collarbones, applying lather and shaving carefully. The entire process took time, a ritual of removal and transformation.
Once every inch of requested hair was gone, leaving his skin smooth and bare, the barber cleaned away the excess foam and stray hairs with warm towels. Heeseung looked at himself in the mirror – the transformation was stark. His face looked younger, his jawline sharper. His body, while still undeniably muscular and defined, felt... different, less rugged, more polished.
The barber then moved onto the second phase: the massage. He produced a small bottle of soothing oil, its scent light and pleasant. He warmed the oil between his hands before applying it to Heeseung's freshly shaved skin.
He started with the face, massaging the oil into Heeseung's upper lip where the moustache had been, his cheeks, jawline, and neck. His fingers worked in gentle, circular motions, soothing any potential irritation, leaving the skin feeling supple and calm.
Then, the massage moved to his body. The barber generously applied oil to Heeseung's chest and pecs, his hands working over the huge, now smooth muscles. The sensation was incredibly relaxing, the oil easing any tightness from his workout and the shaving process itself. He massaged his arms, working down his biceps, then his forearms.
He moved to the abdomen, massaging the oil into his defined abs, then up to his shoulders and collarbones. Heeseung leaned forward again as the barber massaged his back and lower back, working out knots of tension, the oil allowing his hands to glide smoothly over the expanse of his skin. He even massaged his limbs – his legs and feet, ensuring the soothing oil covered every area that had been shaved or might benefit from relaxation.
The massage was thorough, lasting for a good fifteen minutes, a luxurious end to the intense shaving process. By the end, Heeseung felt incredibly smooth, relaxed, and oddly lighter. He ran a tentative hand over his face, then his chest. It was... different. He missed the texture of the hair, the familiar feel of it under his fingertips, but the smoothness had its own appeal.
He paid the barber, thanked him profusely, and stepped back out into the Wellington air. The wind felt different against his bare face and neck. He pulled on a t-shirt, the fabric sliding over his newly smooth chest, a sensation he wasn't used to. He pulled out his phone and texted Jake.
Just finished the shave. Feeling like a plucked chicken.
He got a reply almost instantly.
Dramatic, sunbae. How bad is it?
See for yourself. Meet me by the library in ten?
Heeseung walked towards the library, feeling slightly self-conscious despite his usual confidence. He saw Jake sitting on a bench, engrossed in a book. As Heeseung approached, Jake looked up, and his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Heeseung stopped in front of him, striking a mock pose, trying to gauge Jake's reaction.
Jake's breath hitched. Heeseung, without the beard, moustache, and body hair, looked... stunning. Younger, yes, but also somehow more vulnerable, more approachable. His jawline was incredibly sharp, his lips full and defined. His eyes seemed even brighter. And his body... seeing the full, uninterrupted expanse of his muscular chest and abdomen, the defined lines of his biceps and shoulders, without the layer of hair, was breathtaking. The smooth, oiled skin seemed to gleam slightly under the diffused sunlight. Jake felt a rush of heat rise to his cheeks, grateful for his timid nature providing a ready excuse for his flush. He secretly, desperately, loved it.
"Well?" Heeseung prompted, a smirk playing on his lips. "Cat got your sharp tongue, Shorty?"
Jake swallowed, trying to regain his composure. "You... you look different, sunbae." Heeseung's face fell slightly at the continued use of 'sunbae'.
"Different good, or different... like I should hide under a rock?"
Jake hesitated, then his sassy side won out, albeit with a hint of shyness. "Different... surprisingly clean. It's unsettling. Like a wild animal was suddenly domesticated."
Heeseung burst out laughing, the sound warm and genuine.
"A domesticated wild animal, huh? Is that a compliment coming from the resident academic?"
"Take it how you will," Jake said, finally closing his book. Heeseung sat down next to him, the space between them suddenly feeling very charged. Jake could feel the heat radiating from Heeseung's body, smell the faint, clean scent of the soothing oil.
Heeseung turned to him, his expression softening. "Be honest, Jakey. Do you... like it?"
Jake looked away, his heart pounding. He couldn't admit how much he loved it, how seeing Heeseung like this stirred something deep and unexpected within him. "It's... fine," he mumbled, the most non-committal answer he could manage.
Heeseung studied his face for a moment, a knowing look in his eyes that made Jake's stomach flip. "Just 'fine', huh? I think you like it more than you're letting on, Shorty." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, flirty murmur. "Maybe you like being able to see all of... this." He gestured vaguely at his smooth chest.
Jake's blush deepened, and he finally managed to meet Heeseung's gaze. Heeseung's eyes were warm, playful, but also held a question, an unspoken invitation. In that moment, the line between friends and something more blurred irrevocably.
Their friendship deepened into something more tentative, more fragile, filled with unspoken desires and hesitant touches. Study sessions turned into lingering glances, casual outings became quiet dates disguised as hanging out. Heeseung's flirting intensified, but now it was focused solely on Jake, laced with genuine affection and a touch of vulnerability beneath the confidence.
"You're so quiet today, Jakey," Heeseung would say, reaching out to brush a stray piece of hair from Jake's forehead, his fingers lingering against his skin.
"Just thinking, hyung," Jake would reply, now using the more intimate honorific easily, though 'oppa' remained firmly off-limits in his vocabulary.
"Thinking about me?" Heeseung would grin, leaning closer.
"About the impact of quantitative easing on developing economies, actually," Jake would retort, but his eyes would betray the lie, lingering on Heeseung's face, on the curve of his now smooth jaw.
One evening, studying together in Heeseung's ridiculously large and tidy dorm room (another unexpected facet of the bad-boy jock – meticulous cleanliness), the air grew thick with unspoken tension. Heeseung had finished his work and was lounging on his bed, watching Jake pore over notes. He was shirtless, as was often the case when he was comfortable, his smooth, muscled body a captivating distraction. Jake kept finding his eyes drawn to the expanse of his chest, the definition of his abs.
"You know," Heeseung said, breaking the silence, his voice soft, "I really hate shaving. All this..." He gestured to his smooth face and body. "It feels weird."
Jake finally looked up. "Then why do you do it?"
"College and Parents. They like the 'respectable' look," Heeseung shrugged, a hint of annoyance in his tone.
"Say I look more serious. More like a businessman, less like a... barbarian." He added with a playful wink.
Jake didn't reply immediately. He thought about how much he secretly liked this look, how it made Heeseung seem somehow softer, more accessible. It was a selfish thought, he knew, but he couldn't help it.
Heeseung saw the look in Jake's eyes, the quiet intensity.
He pushed himself up, walking over to sit on the floor near Jake's chair.
"But... there's something else, too," Heeseung admitted, his voice lower now. "I know... I know you like it."
Jake's head shot up, his eyes wide with surprise. "Wh-what? How do you know that?"
Heeseung smiled gently. "I see the way you look, Jakey. Every time I shave, you get this... this look. Like you've discovered something new and you're trying to figure it out. It's cute." He reached out, tentatively, and cupped Jake's cheek. His thumb brushed against Jake's smooth skin. "And... I like that you like it. I like knowing that I can do something, even something I don't love, and it makes you look at me like that."
Jake was speechless, his face burning. Heeseung knew. He knew Jake secretly preferred him without the hair. And the fact that Heeseung, the supremely confident jock, cared about Jake's quiet preference enough to notice it and admit it... it was overwhelming.
"Heeseung..." Jake whispered, his voice barely audible.
"Yeah, Jakey?" Heeseung leaned closer, his gaze locked on Jake's lips. The air crackled between them. Heeseung was leaving the decision to Jake, his confident top persona surprisingly obedient in this moment, waiting for the timid bottom to make his move.
Jake, with a sudden surge of courage born of hidden feelings and overwhelming attraction, leaned forward and kissed him.
It was hesitant at first, a soft brush of lips. Then Heeseung responded, his kiss deepening, becoming more confident, but still gentle. His hands moved to frame Jake's face, his thumbs stroking his cheeks. Jake's hands, initially fisted in his lap, slowly reached up to grip Heeseung's shoulders, his fingers digging into the smooth, hard muscle beneath the fabric of his t-shirt. The kiss was warm, sweet, and filled with the pent-up emotion of months of simmering tension and unspoken longing.
They broke apart, breathless, their foreheads resting against each other.
"Wow," Heeseung breathed, a wide, happy grin spreading across his face. "Okay. Definitely not just 'fine', huh?"
Jake laughed, a shy, beautiful sound that Heeseung had rarely heard. "Definitely not just 'fine', hyung."
Heeseung pulled back slightly, his eyes shining. "So... are we... is this...?"
Jake met his gaze, his shyness still present, but overlaid with a newfound confidence. "It's... whatever we want it to be."
Heeseung's grin grew wider. "I want it to be us, Jakey. You and me."
"Me too, hyung," Jake said softly, leaning back in for another kiss.
Their relationship blossomed in the cozy corners of Wellington. They had coffee dates at cafes overlooking the harbour, walked through the vibrant Cuba Street, explored the winding paths of the Botanical Gardens, and watched movies curled up in Heeseung's dorm room. Heeseung’s extroverted energy complemented Jake’s quiet nature, drawing him out into the world, while Jake offered Heeseung a sense of peace and stability.
Heeseung continued to be the confident, physically affectionate one, always ready with a touch, a hug, or a playful squeeze of Jake's hand. But Jake, despite his shyness, found his 'dominant bottom' nature emerging in unexpected ways. He was the one who often decided what they ate, where they went, and when they studied. Heeseung, to his delight, happily followed Jake's lead, his confidence translating into a comfortable obedience when it came to Jake's preferences. Jake, with his sharp mind, challenged Heeseung intellectually, pushing him to think deeper, which Heeseung found incredibly attractive.
The 'Oppa' teasing continued, but it was laced with affection now.
"You'd make me the happiest man in Wellington if you just said 'Oppa' once," Heeseung would plead, batting his eyelashes dramatically.
"And risk inflating that already enormous ego even further? Not a chance, hyung," Jake would reply, a playful glint in his eye. Heeseung would pout, but Jake would just smile and kiss him, a silent concession that meant more than the word itself.
As the next academic year approached, bringing with it new college requirements and potential family visits, the topic of Heeseung's body hair arose again. This time, it wasn't just a university formality for photos, but a stronger push from his parents who associated the clean-shaven look with professionalism and maturity, especially with potential future job prospects looming.
"My mum called," Heeseung sighed one morning, running a hand over the stubble that was starting to grow back on his face and chest. They were in Heeseung's room, lounging after a workout. Heeseung was, predictably, shirtless, and Jake was trying very hard not to stare at the returning dark fuzz on his chest and arms. "Says I need to 'tidy myself up' before they visit next month. College is sending out notices about appearances for welcoming events too."
Jake nodded, a familiar, secret anticipation fluttering in his chest. Heeseung had grown back a respectable amount of hair since the barber visit – a noticeable beard, a full moustache, and a healthy covering on his chest and arms. While Jake had grown to appreciate Heeseung's comfort in his own skin, he still held a quiet, strong preference for the smooth look.
"So, another trip to the barber?" Jake asked, trying to sound casual.
Heeseung shrugged. "Nah, too much hassle this time. Plus, I need to get used to doing it myself. Got all the gear." He gestured to a bag on his dresser. "Foam, new razor, the works."
Jake's heart gave a little leap. Heeseung shaving himself... that was a more private, potentially more intimate thought than the barber scene. He tucked away the image that formed in his mind, focusing on the conversation.
"Need any help?" Jake asked, surprising himself with the boldness of his offer.
Heeseung raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming. "Oh? The shy academic offering to assist with a... manual task? Don't tell me you're secretly into grooming."
"Someone has to ensure you don't accidentally lop off an ear, hyung," Jake retorted, regaining his composure. The thought of being close, guiding Heeseung's hand... he pushed the thought aside.
"Hmm," Heeseung hummed, considering. "Maybe later. I should probably attempt the face myself first. Don't want to traumatize you right away."
Later that evening, Jake was in Heeseung's room again, ostensibly studying, but acutely aware of Heeseung in the attached bathroom. The sound of running water, the occasional clink of something hitting the counter, the low murmur of Heeseung talking to himself. Jake tried to focus on his textbook, but his mind kept drifting. He pictured Heeseung standing in front of the mirror, his powerful body reflected back at him, lathering his face, the razor gliding over his skin.
After about twenty minutes, Heeseung emerged from the bathroom. He had a towel slung around his neck, and he was, of course, shirtless. The transformation was immediate and striking. The beard and moustache were gone, revealing his sharp jawline and full lips once more. His chest, arms, and shoulders were smooth and bare, the muscles even more prominent without the obscuring layer of hair. The scent of shaving foam and a clean, slightly spicy aftershave clung to him.
Jake looked up, his eyes widening slightly. Heeseung looked younger, cleaner, and devastatingly handsome. The quiet longing Jake had felt before was now a strong pull, an undeniable appreciation for the smooth expanse of his body.
Heeseung walked over to his dresser, picking up a bottle of the same soothing oil the barber had used. He glanced at Jake, a hint of shyness, surprisingly, in his confident eyes.
"The body's next," Heeseung said, almost apologetically. "College requirements, remember?" He didn't mention his parents this time, maybe sensing Jake's unspoken preference.
Heeseung uncapped the oil and began to apply it to his face, massaging his jawline, cheeks, and the area above his lip with gentle strokes. Heeseung closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the soothing sensation. Then, he moved to his chest.
Heeseung poured a generous amount of oil into his hands, warming it before applying it to his pecs. He began to massage the huge muscles, his hands gliding over the smooth skin, working the oil in deep strokes. Jake watched, captivated. Heeseung's self-massage was as thorough and deliberate as the barber's had been, almost a ritual. He watched as Heeseung's strong hands kneaded his pecs, then moved down to his abdomen, massaging his defined abs with firm pressure.
Heeseung moved to his arms, working the oil into his biceps and forearms. He twisted to reach his shoulders and collarbones, his muscles flexing with the movement. Heeseung then leaned forward slightly, reaching behind him to massage his back and lower back, his strong fingers working out any tension. He finished by applying oil to his legs and feet, ensuring his entire body was moisturized and soothed.
When Heeseung was done, he stood there for a moment, running his hands over his smooth skin, a contemplative look on his face. He looked completely different from the hairy, confident jock who had bumped into Jake in the café all those months ago. This Heeseung was still confident, still muscular, but also softer, more vulnerable, especially in the quiet intimacy of his room with Jake present.
Heeseung finally turned to Jake, a slight flush on his cheeks. "So... second verse, same as the first. What's the verdict, Shorty?"
Jake closed his book, his heart full. He stood up and walked over to Heeseung. Heeseung watched him, his eyes open and expectant. Jake reached out, tentatively, and placed his hands flat against Heeseung's smooth, warm chest, right over his pecs. The skin was incredibly soft, the muscle hard and yielding beneath his touch. Heeseung instinctively flexed his chest, a low groan escaping his lips at the sensation.
"It's... really nice, hyung," Jake said, his voice soft, honest. "You look... amazing."
Heeseung visibly relaxed, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Jake confirmed, tracing the line of Heeseung's smooth abdomen with his finger. "I... I really like it when you're clean-shaven." He finally admitted his secret preference out loud.
Heeseung's eyes lit up, a look of pure delight on his face. "You do? Even though I complain about it?"
"Even then," Jake smiled, looking up at him. "It suits you."
Heeseung pulled Jake closer, wrapping his arms around him, holding him tight against his smooth, warm body. Jake buried his face in Heeseung's chest, breathing in the clean scent of the oil and Heeseung's skin. It felt like coming home.
"Okay," Heeseung murmured into Jake's hair. "Then maybe... maybe I won't complain about it so much anymore." He pulled back just enough to look at Jake. "Especially if you promise to tell me how good I look every time."
"Deal," Jake said, a happy smile on his face.
"And maybe," Heeseung added, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "maybe you could finally say 'Oppa'?"
Jake laughed, shaking his head. "Not a chance, hyung."
Heeseung pouted dramatically. "Still? After all this?"
Jake just smiled and leaned in, kissing Heeseung, a long, deep kiss that conveyed everything he felt – the journey from annoyance to respect, from friendship to love, the quiet acceptance of their dynamic, the appreciation for Heeseung's confidence and his vulnerability, and the secret delight in his smooth, muscular body. Heeseung returned the kiss with equal fervor, pulling Jake even closer.
In the heart of Wellington, surrounded by the scent of the sea and the energy of college life, the shy academic and the confident jock had found their rhythm. Their love story wasn't just about grand gestures, but about quiet moments, shared laughs, unspoken understandings, and the surprising comfort they found in each other's presence. Heeseung might not have gotten his 'Oppa', and Jake might have occasionally missed the ruggedness of Heeseung's beard, but in the smooth planes of Heeseung's skin and the sharp wit of Jake's tongue, they found a perfect, happy balance.
The exams came and went, and the new academic year began. Heeseung, clean-shaven and smooth, navigated the welcoming events with his usual charm, now with Jake quietly by his side, occasionally offering a sassy comment under his breath that only Heeseung could hear, making him laugh.
They were no longer enemies, barely just friends; they were simply Jake and Heeseung, navigating college life and falling deeper in love with each day, their future in New Zealand stretching out before them, bright and full of promise. And sometimes, when they were alone, Jake would run his hand over Heeseung's smooth chest and whisper, not 'Oppa', but something even more meaningful, a quiet endearment that was just theirs, and Heeseung would know, without a doubt, that he was exactly where he was supposed to be.