Chapter Text
- All image credit belongs to the rightful owner. -
The first time Shin saw him, really saw him.
Saint was crouched in the aisle of a souvenir shop, nose wrinkled in concentration as he studied a rack of tiny plush animals like the fate of the universe depended on it.
Eighth grade field trip.
Early spring.
The kind of chilly that needed sweaters in the shade but let the sun kiss bare arms.
Shin was bored.
The shrine had been okay. The hike up the hill better. But everything after? Souvenirs, waiting, teachers shouting about group counts? Lame.
Until he noticed him.
Saint.
Barely came up to his shoulder. Always quiet. Sat near the front of class and took notes in pens that sparkled with little charms hanging off them.
He was crouched in front of the shelf like he lived there. A bunny keychain dangled from his backpack zipper. There were cherry blossom petals in his hair. And when a teacher called his name, he jumped like he’d been caught stealing.
He hadn’t even picked a toy.
He just nodded, bowed slightly and walked away.
Shin didn’t think.
He walked up to the register, grabbed the first thing he’d seen in that soft boy’s orbit, a hairclip. A plastic bear holding a strawberry.
Cute.
Embarrassing.
Perfect.
He stuffed it in his hoodie pocket until they were back on the bus. Saint had just sat down, still hugging a juice box like it was a precious object, eyes big and dazed from the sun.
Shin dropped into the seat beside him.
Didn’t even say hi.
Just pulled out the clip and shoved it into Saint’s hands.
“Thought it looked like you.”
Saint blinked. Stared. Looked down at the clip.
And smiled.
Not wide. Not bright. Something softer.
Slower. Like the sun hitting water.
He didn’t say much. Just whispered.
“Thank you.” And slid it into his bangs.
Right there. Right in front of Shin. No hesitation.
And that’s where it stayed.
For years
High school came and went. Saint grew taller but not by much. Still soft, still quiet, still sat in the front with his notebooks and bunny pens and pastel sweaters.
Shin got taller. Sharper. Muscles. Tattoos. Everyone said he looked like trouble.
But he only ever looked at Saint.
The bear clip never left his hair.
~
College hit like a reset button.
New buildings. New faces. New rooms.
But then, Psych 210.
Shin walked in late, hoodie shoved up to his elbows, earbuds in and stopped cold in the doorway.
There he was.
Saint.
Still with the clip.
Still with the eyes.
Still so goddamn beautiful Shin had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning.
He sat two rows back. Close enough to see him, not close enough to scare him off.
Waited.
Watched.
Let fate do what it wanted.
And fate gave them the project.
Paired.
Assigned partners for the semester.
Shin didn’t waste time.
“Your place or mine?” he asked after class, mouth tilted in a smirk he didn’t even try to hide.
Saint hesitated, fingers twisting the strap of his bag. “Mine. It’s uhm quieter.”
Shin could’ve kissed him right there.
~
Saint’s dorm was small. Soft.
Fairy lights in the corner. Plushies on the bed. Pink mug on the desk that said ‘beary sweet’ in bubbly font.
He opened the door in socks that looked like cat paws and a baggy sweater that hung off one shoulder.
The clip was still there.
Shin stared at it like it was a religious icon.
“I can’t believe you still wear that.” he said voice lower than he meant it to be.
Saint touched the clip like he didn’t even realize he’d done it.
“Oh. Um I uh never really stopped.”
Shin stepped in.
Kicked the door shut behind him.
“You remember where it’s from?”
Saint nodded. “You gave it to me. On the bus. That trip.”
He said it like it still lived in his chest. Like it was something holy.
Shin took a step closer. “I didn’t think you’d keep it this long.”
“I didn’t think you remembered.”
“I never forgot.”
Silence.
Saint bit his lip. Turned away. Tried to hide it with a laugh. “It’s just a clip…”
“No.” Shin said. “It’s you.”
Saint froze.
“I thought about you for years.” Shin said, voice rough now, tight around the edges. “Every time I saw someone with that same clip. Every time I saw pink. Soft. Sweet. Every time I met someone and thought, not him.”
Saint’s hands were trembling. His eyes shining like glass.
“I didn’t date anyone.” Shin said, stepping in until they were toe to toe. “Because I couldn’t get you out of my head. I didn’t want to.”
Saint whispered, “Me neither.”
And Shin, lord, he could’ve lost it then. Could’ve kissed him, pushed him against the wall, told him everything he never dared to.
But he reached up.
Touched the clip.
Gentle. Careful. Reverent.
“You still wear it..” he murmured. “That mean I still have a chance?”
Saint nodded. Just once.
Shin smiled, breathless. “Good. Because I waited bunny. All this time and I’m not walking away now.”
Saint blushed, fists tight in his sleeves. “I was waiting too.”
And this time.
Shin didn’t kiss him.
Not yet.
He tilted his head forward, just enough for their foreheads to touch, like gravity had finally stopped teasing and gave in. The softest contact. Skin to skin. Not lust. Not even heat. Just… home.
Saint shuddered.
Not from cold but from everything. The weight of years. The ache of never saying it. The way Shin’s breath ghosted against his lips but didn’t take them.
His fingers curled in the hem of Shin’s hoodie like he needed something to hold or he might fall.
“You’re real.” he whispered.
Shin let out a shaky laugh against him. “You thought I was a dream?”
Saint gave the tiniest nod. “Sometimes. Every time I touched the clip, I wondered if I’d made it up.”
Shin exhaled hard. “Fuck.”
He pulled back, just enough to see him, Saint’s lashes trembling, cheeks flushed, the smallest gloss of wet at the corner of his eyes.
“You always looked so far away.” Shin murmured. “Even when you were two rows in front of me. I thought if I said one wrong thing you’d vanish.”
“I waited.” Saint said, voice barely a sound. “I thought maybe you’d forgotten. Or… or moved on. But I still hoped.”
Shin cupped his cheek. Thumb brushing just under his eye. “I never looked at anyone else.”
Saint blinked. Then softly “Me neither.”
And that’s when it cracked.
The waiting. The years. The silence.
Saint leaned in first. Not a kiss. A press. Nose to collarbone. Arms wrapping around Shin’s middle clinging so tightly it nearly stole Shin’s breath.
And Shin, his chest cracked open.
He folded around him, one hand splayed over the clip, the other anchoring between Saint’s shoulder blades and they stayed there.
No rush. No heat.
Just everything they never said, spoken in skin and stillness.
Shin buried his face in Saint’s hair, mouth against the little plastic bear.
“I’m never letting go.” he murmured.
Saint didn’t answer.
He didn’t have to.
His arms said it all.
- To Be Continued -