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Taesan stared at his phone with a blank expression. The screen showed a bright, colorful notification for the upcoming weekend’s biggest party on campus. His name was on the guest list. Somehow. He wasn’t sure how that happened. One thing he knew for certain was that he did not want to go.
He sighed and turned away from the glowing screen. The dim light of his laptop reflected off the black walls of his small dorm room. Posters of old rock bands—Nirvana, My Chemical Romance, and some vintage Elvis Presley—covered one side of the room, a silent reminder of who he was and who he wanted to be. The faint smell of cold coffee lingered in the air, mixing with the scent of worn-out notebooks and ink. This was his safe space, where no one expected him to laugh or make conversation. Especially not with Jaehyun.
Jaehyun was everything Taesan wasn’t. While Taesan dressed in all black, wearing hoodies large enough to hide his lanky frame and covering his messy jet-black hair, Jaehyun shone bright. Golden skin that caught every stray beam of sunlight, fluffy brown hair that looked effortlessly perfect, and an easy, careless smile that made heads turn everywhere he went. He was the quintessential frat boy. Loud, carefree, bold. The kind of guy who lived in the center of attention without even trying.
Taesan hated everything about him.
He hated how Jaehyun flirted with people like it meant nothing. He hated how Jaehyun had probably hooked up with half the population of their high school by now, and still somehow managed to look innocent doing it. He hated how Jaehyun would throw his arm around someone new every other week, laugh loudly in the hallways, brag about wild nights, and walk around like nothing ever touched him. Like no one ever stayed. Like he didn’t care if they did.
And yet, despite all of that—or maybe because of it—
Taesan had a massive, terrible, all-consuming crush on him.
It made him sick. The kind of crush that made his stomach twist up painfully whenever Jaehyun walked by. That made his ears burn when he accidentally heard Jaehyun laugh in the hallway. That made him freeze whenever their eyes almost met in a crowd. He hated that he cared. He hated that he noticed the little things—like the way Jaehyun’s sleeves were always rolled up to show his forearms, or how he leaned in too close when talking to people, or how he always had a stick of gum in his mouth, like even that was charming.
He had been watching Jaehyun from a distance for years now. Quietly. Secretly. Pathetically. Not with any dreams of confession or changing him. Just... watching.
But he would never, ever talk to Jaehyun. Or anyone in his dumbass circle. Not Jaehyun. Not Wonbin. Not Nicholas. Not Hanbin. Not Gyuvin. Not even by accident.
“I’m not going,” Taesan muttered, barely looking up from his phone as someone suddenly appeared behind him.
Leehan. His best friend. The exact opposite of Taesan in almost every way.
Leehan was the kind of guy who could trip over nothing and still smile through it. Messy brown hair, a face so pretty it looked like a delicate painting, and the worst grades in the entire class—actually, the very last scorer. Yet somehow, he was chasing after Sungho, the student council president who seemed untouchable and impossibly perfect. Sungho was calm, collected, and carried himself like he ruled the whole university. He was also Jaehyun’s best friend, which made Leehan’s obsession all the more complicated.
Leehan leaned against the doorframe, holding two cans of energy drinks like trophies. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief. “You have to come,” he said with a grin.
Taesan didn’t move. “No.”
Leehan raised an eyebrow. “You said that yesterday.”
“And the day before.”
“And the day before that.”
Taesan sighed, finally setting his phone down. “And? What’s so important about going to Myung Jaehyun’s stupid frat boy party?”
“Sungho’s going to there. You know how rare that is. And I told Sungho I’d bring you.”
Taesan’s eyes widened. “You what?”
Leehan shrugged. “You’re coming. Deal with it.”
Taesan wanted to protest, but he knew Leehan was relentless. The thought of being stuck in the middle of Jaehyun’s circle made him want to disappear. He wasn’t built for parties, loud music, or pretending to be someone he wasn’t. Especially not with Jaehyun, the guy who smiled too much, flirted too easily, and seemed to charm everyone—except Taesan himself.
Leehan laughed softly. “Look, I get it. You think Jaehyun’s a gross frat boy who flirts his way through the week and doesn’t remember names after. I know you hate that stuff.”
Taesan looked away, jaw clenched, “Exactly.”
Leehan tilted his head. “But you still like him, don’t you?”
Taesan didn’t answer.
“Yeah,” Leehan said, grinning. “Thought so.”
The silence that followed was thick with things unspoken.
Jaehyun wasn’t just someone Taesan avoided. He was someone Taesan thought about far too often. Not because he liked him. No. He hated him. Everything about him.
But his chest still ached whenever Jaehyun walked into a room.
Leehan clapped his hands together, breaking the silence. “Anyway, enough serious talk. You should’ve seen me today trying to convince Woonhak to help me sneak into the student council office.”
Taesan gave him a tired look. “Woonhak? The freshman who spilled punch on himself last week?”
Leehan nodded proudly. “That’s the one. But I made him promise to keep a lookout while I grab the files.”
Taesan laughed, the tension easing from his shoulders. “You’re crazy.”
Leehan grinned. “And you love me for it.”
Taesan rolled his eyes but smiled. Maybe, just maybe, showing up wasn’t the worst idea after all.
♡♡♡
The night arrived too fast.
By the time Saturday rolled around, Taesan had cycled through every possible excuse to get out of going. He even considered faking a cold—something dramatic, like losing his voice or getting hit by a bike on campus. But Leehan was unshakeable. That morning, he’d sent Taesan a detailed schedule. It had emojis. And threats. Mostly threats.
So now here he was.
Standing in front of the mirror in his dorm room, trying not to grimace.
He tugged at the collar of his black leather jacket, the same one he’d worn to the last five concerts he’d gone to alone. It clung to his tall, lanky frame just right, paired with black jeans and a plain tee that somehow managed to look effortless. His oval-shaped sunglasses sat atop his head, more for the aesthetic than for function. His hair was tousled in the way it always was—messy, jet-black, and refusing to be tamed no matter how many times he combed it down.
He looked… good. Unfortunately.
Leehan, on the other hand, looked like he floated out of a flower field.
“Are you wearing glitter?” Taesan asked flatly, turning to look at him.
Leehan twirled in place, his oversized cream cardigan billowing like a soft cloud. Underneath, he wore a sheer white shirt tucked into wide-legged pants, his long hair brushed out and glowing under the cheap dorm light. He’d dusted shimmer across his cheeks and a soft gloss on his lips, just enough to catch the eye.
“It’s highlighter,” Leehan corrected, smiling like an angel. “And you look criminally hot right now. If Sungho rejects me tonight, I’m dating you instead.”
Taesan deadpanned. “I’d rather die.”
“Romantic,” Leehan sighed, grabbing his tiny bag shaped like a mushroom. “Let’s go, heartbreaker.”
They left the dorm building just as the evening started settling in. The sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in slow strokes of purple and gold. The campus was buzzing. Music thumped faintly from blocks away, the bass pulsing through the ground as they walked. The air smelled like distant bonfires, cheap perfume, and something vaguely fruity—probably from the punch someone had already started spiking.
Taesan tugged his jacket closer, fingers curled in the fabric.
He didn’t belong here. He didn’t go to parties. He didn’t like noise or people or warm beer or pretending to enjoy small talk. He especially didn’t like walking into a space where Jaehyun was probably already holding court like some golden-haired deity surrounded by lesser beings.
They turned the corner, and the frat house came into view.
It was massive—far too big for how fragile the porch looked. Lights of every color blinked from the windows, the kind of tacky string bulbs you could buy for three dollars at a campus store. There were people already spilling out onto the lawn, red cups in hand, laughter echoing into the night. Someone had hung a sheet off the second-floor balcony that read “NO DRAMA, JUST DRINKS” in sharpie.
Leehan tugged at Taesan’s sleeve. “This is it.”
Taesan stopped. “I hate this.”
“I know,” Leehan said. “But I’m here. You’re here. Sungho’s probably inside wearing a button-up and holding a clipboard like the hot nerd he is. And your crush is probably ten feet away from us, chewing gum and flirting with a lamp post.”
“Sounds accurate.”
“Exactly. Now fix your face and walk in with me.”
The music hit them like a wave the second they stepped inside. The house was packed—shoulders brushing shoulders, bodies swaying to a beat that wasn’t even in time with itself. Colored lights cast everything in deep reds and soft purples, flashing over sweaty faces and messy hairstyles.
Taesan felt his heart crawl up into his throat.
He didn’t know where to look. Everyone here was beautiful and loud and confident. He could already see familiar faces: Nicholas was dancing with someone in the kitchen, wearing a see-through mesh shirt like it was casual. Wonbin had a circle of people around him, laughing so hard he nearly fell backwards. There was noise everywhere—music, shouting, clinking cups, someone yelling about spilled drinks.
Leehan squeezed his hand. “Breathe.”
Taesan forced a nod.
They made their way past the hallway, weaving between people, trying not to get elbowed in the ribs. Taesan kept his head low, sunglasses still perched on top, eyes scanning quickly. He didn’t want to look like he was searching for anyone, especially not for—
There.
Across the room, standing near the wall where someone had set up a makeshift drink station, was Jaehyun.
Myung Jaehyun.
His golden skin practically glowed under the red lights, fluffy brown hair curled just enough to look intentionally messy. He wore a loose shirt that hung a little too perfectly on his frame and jeans that looked like they’d been painted on. There was a red cup in his hand, a lazy grin on his lips, and his posture was relaxed—shoulders back, head tilted as he laughed at something Sungho said.
And then—just for a moment—
Jaehyun looked up.
Taesan froze.
Their eyes met across the room. Taesan couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even blink.
And Jaehyun…
Jaehyun went still.
The smile faltered, just slightly. His eyes widened. He tilted his head, like he wasn’t sure what he was seeing. Like something had knocked the breath out of him.
Leehan leaned over and whispered, “Holy crap. He just looked at you like you punched him in the soul.”
Taesan couldn’t respond.
Jaehyun didn’t look away.
He just kept staring—curious, startled, like he’d just seen something he didn’t expect.
Like he was seeing Taesan for the very first time.
♡♡♡
Taesan couldn’t do this.
Not now. Not with the way his chest was constricting and his palms were damp and useless inside the sleeves of his jacket. The second Jaehyun’s eyes finally pulled away, looking elsewhere, probably saving Taesan from an actual cardiac incident, he turned on his heel. Walked straight toward the front door like he was late to a meeting with destiny or death. Honestly, at this point, he’d take either.
But Leehan’s hand shot out like a trap and caught his wrist in one swift, terrifyingly coordinated move.
“Where do you think you’re going, Taesan?” Leehan whisper-shouted, tugging him to a halt, eyes wide and already knowing.
“Away,” Taesan muttered under his breath. “Outside. To get some air. Or die. Whichever happens first.”
Leehan blinked. “We’re literally supposed to be walking that direction.” He pointed behind him, toward the kitchen, where the crowd had loosened just enough to reveal Sungho and Jaehyun still standing by the drinks table. They looked like models in a magazine ad for cologne and heartbreak.
“Sungho is right there,” Leehan added, eyes glinting. “This is fate. The universe has aligned. Come on.”
“No,” Taesan said firmly, like a soldier refusing to enter enemy territory.
“Yes,” Leehan replied, undeterred, already angling his body to start dragging Taesan with him.
“No, Leehan. I’m sweating. I’m overheating. My face is literally hot. I think I’m having a reaction.”
“You’re not having a reaction, you’re having a crush. There’s a difference.”
“I’m going to murder you.”
Leehan only smiled, bright and smug, tightening his grip like he was leading a child to the dentist. He started pulling Taesan across the room, and Taesan followed only because resisting might cause a scene. His boots scuffed loudly on the floor, every step full of dread.
“I’ll do your laundry for a week,” Taesan hissed, leaning in.
“Nope,” Leehan said easily.
“I’ll buy you that ridiculous hideous fish you showed me on Instagram last night.”
“Tempting, but still no.”
“I’ll write Sungho a love poem for you to read it on the campus radio,” Taesan whispered frantically.
Leehan faltered for a second, visibly considering. “…Almost.”
“Please.”
But it was too late. Leehan was beaming and determined, his grip vice-like and full of intention. His eyes were already locked onto Sungho like some fairytale quest had been bestowed upon him by divine intervention.
And then, as if destiny had decided to make it even worse, Sungho turned around.
It was like slow-motion. One second Leehan was about to trip over someone’s unattended backpack, and the next—Sungho had glanced over, spotted them mid-drag, and was already smiling as he stepped toward them. Smooth, calm, like the hero of a storybook.
Taesan barely had time to panic properly before Sungho stopped in front of them.
“Leehan,” Sungho greeted, voice warm and easy, like they were already close friends. The way he said it made it sound like Leehan’s name was the best one he’d said all night.
And Leehan—
Leehan short-circuited.
He looked up at Sungho like he’d just opened the gates to heaven, mouth opening once, twice, like his words were trapped behind a full reboot of his nervous system.
“H-Hey,” he stammered out finally, cheeks already glowing pink. “You, um—shirt—nice. Your shirt. Is it made of… cashmere?”
Taesan turned his head, slowly, painfully, and stared at Leehan with the kind of expression people reserved for watching planes crash into buildings.
Sungho, however, didn’t even flinch. He laughed. A real, soft, charmed laugh that only made things worse.
“You look really pretty tonight, Leehan,” Sungho said, like it was the most natural compliment in the world. “I like your outfit.”
Taesan wanted to vanish. Right there. Just blink out of existence.
Leehan blinked back at Sungho, clearly malfunctioning. “I—thank—thanks. It has a skirt. On top. I thought, like—why not? Because it’s… it’s party-coded.”
“You pull it off,” Sungho said. “It suits you.”
Leehan looked like he was about to collapse into glitter.
And Taesan—Taesan was just standing there, tucked inside his black leather jacket like it could shield him from what was clearly becoming an actual romantic comedy in real-time.
He shifted his weight, eyes flicking to the side. He needed to make an exit. Quietly. With dignity. But the second he took one step back, Sungho turned again.
“Jaehyun,” he called over his shoulder. “Come here for a second!”
No.
Taesan's whole body locked.
Jaehyun appeared a second later, slipping through the crowd effortlessly, his red cup still in hand like it was an extension of him. He looked around, casually, until his gaze found Taesan again—and just like earlier, he didn’t look away.
And this time, up close—this close—Taesan realized Jaehyun was unfairly pretty.
Even worse in motion.
He was all soft brown curls, eyes like honey glass under the kitchen lights, and a smile that could knock the wind out of your chest. He moved like he was used to being watched. Like gravity bent slightly to accommodate him.
And now he was walking directly toward them.
Taesan felt his pulse spike. He wanted to crawl inside his jacket and never come out. His hands curled into tense fists in his pockets, and his breath got caught halfway up his throat like it had changed its mind.
“Hey,” Jaehyun said once he was close enough, voice low and pleasant. It cut through everything else in the room, soft but clear.
He looked right at Taesan. Not past him. Not through him. At him.
“We’ve met before, right?”
Taesan could barely make a sound. “Sort of,” he managed, voice low, like even that much effort was dangerous.
Beside him, Leehan—sweet, traitorous Leehan—beamed like a spotlight. “This is Taesan,” he announced with pride. “He’s my best friend. He’s very cool. He likes music and being grumpy and writing break ups lyrics in the middle of the night for fun.”
“Leehan, I swear to God—”
But Jaehyun just laughed. That same soft, lazy laugh that somehow made Taesan’s skin prickle under his jacket. He was going to melt. His face was on fire. His heart was sprinting with no destination.
“Pretty name,” Jaehyun said. His eyes sparkled when he smiled again.
Taesan’s world was crumbling in high definition. He felt every second pass too slowly. Every blink too loud. His leather jacket suddenly felt too tight across the shoulders, like it was trying to crush him.
Then Jaehyun leaned in slightly—barely, just enough to close the space between words—and said, “You’re the guy with the sunglasses, right? I noticed you earlier.”
“You did?” Taesan asked before he could stop himself.
Jaehyun nodded, smile curling at the edges. “Hard not to.”
Behind him, Leehan choked on his drink trying to hold in a squeal.
Taesan was short-circuiting. His thoughts were scrambled eggs. He had no clue what to say, how to move, how to exist in this moment.
“I’ve seen you around,” Jaehyun added, softer now. “At the campus studio sometimes. You dance, right?”
Taesan blinked. “Sometimes.”
“You should come to one of the open sessions,” Jaehyun offered. “We mess around, freestyle, nothing serious. It’s chill. Fun.”
He said it like an invitation. No pressure. Just a door left open, in case Taesan wanted to walk through.
Taesan swallowed, forcing himself to look Jaehyun in the eyes again. “I’ll think about it.”
Jaehyun smiled. Slower this time. Like he liked that answer.
“Cool.”
And for the first time that night, Taesan didn’t want to bolt.
Not when Jaehyun was standing this close.
Not when he was looking at him like that.
♡♡♡
For a while, they were all tangled in the same little circle.
Someone handed Leehan a tiny cup filled with something blue and questionably glowing, which he sniffed suspiciously before downing in one gulp. Sungho laughed and leaned in to say something, voice low, and Leehan blinked up at him with wide, dreamy eyes like he’d just been handed a math problem disguised as a compliment.
Taesan watched from the side, quietly, letting the chatter blur around him.
Leehan was laughing too much. Way too much for the barely-funny thing Sungho just said about Greek gods and math problems. There was no way Leehan even understood half of what Sungho was saying, but he was beaming like it was poetry. His cheeks were flushed, his skirt layered over jeans rustling every time he moved, and Sungho looked completely smitten.
Taesan smiled. A small, knowing smile. Then he slipped away. Taesan didn’t say anything. Just a quiet, practiced disappearance — the kind you learn from years of moving through rooms that weren’t really made for you.
Taesan let Leehan have this.
Let him laugh at jokes he didn’t get and twirl under the kind of attention he’d always dreamed about.
Taesan walked toward the edge of the crowd, past the living room couch stuffed with strangers, past the beer pong table where someone was yelling about vengeance, past the thudding bass and pulsing lights and plastic cups sticking to the floor.
He caught sight of a group of fratboys near the back — all shoving each other, laughing way too loud, shouting names across the room like they owned the place. One of them had his hat on backwards and was fake-choking another one while holding a ping pong ball in his teeth.
Taesan rolled his eyes so hard it could’ve powered a turbine.
He veered away, shoulders tense, steps quick, and shoved the sliding glass door open to step outside.
The air hit him immediately. Crisp, cool, almost too quiet. It smelled like a mix of night and cigarette smoke and fresh grass. He took a deep breath. The sky above was stretched with stars, faint between the city glow, but still there.
The porch was empty, save for a few scattered bottles and a tipped-over lawn chair. He sat on the edge of the wooden steps, elbows resting on his knees, leather jacket catching the porch light like shadows.
His sunglasses were still perched on his head like some kind of armor, even though the sun had gone hours ago.
He tilted his head back and let the night breeze push through his hair.
Silence, at last.
Then, a “Hey.”
Taesan jumped slightly, turning his head.
It was Jaehyun.
Jaehyun stood in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame, the other holding a half-empty drink. His hair was tousled from the warmth inside, and he looked like a painting the wind forgot to carry away.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Jaehyun said, stepping out and letting the door fall closed behind him with a quiet click.
Taesan blinked. “You didn’t,” he lied immediately.
Jaehyun smiled knowingly. “Mhm. You disappeared.”
“Yeah, well,” Taesan muttered, looking out at the lawn instead of him, “I’m allergic to drunk fratboys and bad house music.”
Jaehyun laughed, stepping forward, walking toward the steps.
“Yeah? What are you not allergic to?”
Taesan raised an eyebrow. “Silence. Vinyl hunting. My own music playlist. Leehan before 11 p.m.”
Jaehyun smiled as he sat down beside him, close enough that Taesan could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. He leaned forward to match Taesan’s hunched posture, drink resting lightly between his fingers.
“Leehan’s funny,” Jaehyun said softly.
“He’s ridiculous,” Taesan muttered. “He literally flirted with Sungho by telling him his shirt was made of cashmere.”
“That’s technically true.”
“That’s the problem.”
They both snorted at the same time, and for a second, it was easy.
Jaehyun looked up at the sky. “It’s nice out here.”
“Yeah,” Taesan said, more quietly this time. “It’s quieter.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Not the awkward kind — the rare, golden kind that feels like a breath you didn’t know you needed.
“Sungho likes Leehan,” Jaehyun said eventually.
Taesan nodded, watching a moth flicker past the porch light. “I know.”
“You okay with that?”
He didn’t expect the question.
He blinked at Jaehyun, surprised to find something soft behind his gaze. Something curious. Not invasive — just… gently interested.
“Yeah,” Taesan said after a pause. “I want Leehan to be happy. He deserves someone who laughs at his weirdness.”
Jaehyun smiled again, slower this time. Like he was letting the words settle.
Then, a beat later, “What about you?”
Taesan frowned. “What about me?”
“Who makes you happy?”
The question sat between them like a stone tossed into still water.
Taesan opened his mouth, then closed it. Looked down at the porch. His boots. Anywhere but Jaehyun.
“I don’t know,” he said eventually.
Jaehyun tilted his head. “I think you do.”
Taesan looked at him then, full on. And for a moment, it was like the whole world had blurred out of focus except for Jaehyun’s eyes. The way they watched. Calm. Knowing. Pulling.
Taesan swallowed.
“You always talk like that?” he asked, trying to steer the ship away from the storm.
Jaehyun shrugged. “Only when I want to.”
“Is that often?”
“Depends on who I’m talking to.”
Taesan huffed a small laugh and looked away again, but the corner of his mouth betrayed him — it curled up just enough.
Jaehyun bumped his knee against Taesan’s. “You’re not as grumpy as you pretend to be.”
“I am,” Taesan insisted.
“You’re not.”
“I literally left the party because people were talking too loud.”
Jaehyun laughed again, soft and real. “Okay, that was a little grumpy.”
Another breeze passed. Another silence, this one warm and alive.
Taesan didn’t move. He let it linger.
And for the first time in a long time, sitting outside with the softest boy he’d ever met, who somehow saw straight through him — Taesan didn’t want to run.
♡♡♡
Taesan hadn’t meant to stay so long.
Really. He only meant to breathe, maybe stare at the sky a little and avoid another unnecessary conversation with someone who thought they were deep for quoting The Weeknd. But somehow, somehow, time got sticky in the best way.
It had been a while now — just him and Jaehyun, alone on the steps outside while the music still thudded faintly from inside. The sky had darkened more, stretching into a deeper shade of navy, the porch lights now soft halos above them. And still, Taesan hadn’t moved.
He couldn’t.
Jaehyun was saying something about how he never understood why people always gave romance movies a bad rep. “Like—how’s that corny? I want the running-through-the-airport scene. That’s the point. Love is supposed to be stupid.”
Taesan had laughed at that — an actual laugh, not one of those small huffs he gave to fill the silence.
Jaehyun turned to him with wide, pleased eyes. “You laughed.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You did. And it was cute.”
Taesan blinked at him, momentarily short-circuited. “Don’t say that.”
“Say what?”
“That I’m cute.”
Jaehyun just grinned like he’d won something.
Taesan shook his head, but the corners of his mouth refused to flatten again. And god—how long had it been since he smiled like this? With no effort. No guard up. No edge in his voice.
It surprised him, honestly, how easy it felt. And how the boy beside him — the pretty fratboy was actually... different. Jaehyun was thoughtful. Curious. He asked questions like he meant them. He laughed with his whole face. And when Taesan mentioned the old rock bands he listened to in secret — Jaehyun knew them. Not just the names. The songs. The albums.
Taesan wasn’t used to people who liked the same things as him. Especially not people like Jaehyun.
And then—
“Wait,” Jaehyun said suddenly, digging into his pocket, pulling out his phone and a tangled pair of white wired earphones.
Taesan looked at them like they were alien tech. “You still use wired ones?”
“They don’t betray me like Bluetooth does,” Jaehyun said simply.
Before Taesan could question it, Jaehyun had plugged them in, scrolled through something, then pressed play.
A few seconds of soft crackle, then—
Wise men say…
Taesan froze. The first gentle notes of I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You filtered through the quiet night air. A voice warm as velvet. A melody slow as honey. That old-world kind of romantic that made your chest ache if you weren’t careful.
“Elvis?” Taesan said, startled.
Jaehyun nodded and held one side of the earphones out.
Taesan hesitated.
“You said you liked old music,” Jaehyun added, and there was a look in his eyes — almost shy.
Wordlessly, Taesan took it. Fit the soft bud into his ear as Jaehyun did the same with his.
Their shoulders brushed.
Only fools rush in…
And suddenly the night shifted. Slowed. Took on new weight.
Taesan’s breath caught in his throat for a second. This was too intimate. Too soft. He didn’t do this kind of closeness. He wasn’t built for it.
But Jaehyun didn’t rush anything. He just sat, quiet, letting the song float between them like something sacred.
For a moment, Taesan let himself relax.
Let the lyrics slip into his skin. Let the music coat the silence. Let his eyes flutter shut. It felt like something secret was unfolding, a bridge built quietly between two hearts that weren’t supposed to meet like this.
Jaehyun’s knee was still gently pressed against his.
They stayed like that for a while — suspended.
Until Taesan opened his eyes and, without meaning to, whispered, “You probably do this with, like, half the school.”
Jaehyun blinked at him. Then laughed, startled and bright. “What?”
Taesan looked away. “It’s just—this whole thing. Sharing earphones. Elvis. Quoting romance movies. You’ve probably got five girls and a guy in your notes app you’ve done this with.”
Jaehyun made a face. “You think I carry Elvis Presley around just to use him as a trap card?”
Taesan raised an eyebrow.
Jaehyun shook his head. “Wow. Mean. You really think I’d waste this song on just anyone?”
“Well it doesn’t sounds impossible.”
“I’m secretly selective.”
Taesan smiled. Jaehyun looked at him for a moment too long.
“You’re really something, Taesan,” Jaehyun said suddenly, voice quiet again. “You’re sharp and quiet but you laugh like you forget you’re supposed to be cool. It’s nice.”
Taesan didn’t know what to do with that.
He looked down at his hands. He didn’t smile this time, but his chest fluttered weirdly.
Then Jaehyun said, “Do you… wanna be friends?”
The question came out gentle. No pressure behind it. Like Jaehyun had offered him a hand but was okay if he didn’t take it.
Taesan stayed quiet for a few seconds. Too long, maybe.
Taesan didn’t do friends easily. Not like this. Not ones that got inside his head this fast.
But the song was still playing. Their shoulders were still touching. And he didn’t want to pull away.
“…Yeah,” Taesan said softly. “Okay.”
They didn’t talk after that. Just listened. Let the music do the rest.
Take my hand, take my whole life too…
The porch faded. The stars blurred. And for a long, quiet minute, they were the only two people in the world.
♡♡♡
They were already on their tenth song. Maybe eleventh — Taesan had lost track somewhere between the old Queen ballads and that soft Beatles track Jaehyun hummed along to.
The night had mellowed into a quieter kind of magic. Not loud, not overwhelming. Just two boys on a porch, heads leaned close, voices weaving through one conversation after another like a slow-burning thread.
They talked about everything. About music they loved, about how Jaehyun cried at the ending of La La Land, about how Taesan once wrote a love song at sixteen that he never let anyone hear. They spoke in that gentle way people do when the world fades out — no rush, no pretending. Just the calm honesty that only slips out when someone makes you feel safe.
Jaehyun had his chin tucked into his palm, earphone still in one ear, gaze half-lidded as he watched Taesan talk.
“You smile more when you talk about music,” he said quietly, almost to himself.
Taesan blinked, caught off guard again, always a little off-balance around him. “Do I?”
“Yeah.” Jaehyun’s voice was soft. “It’s nice.”
Taesan looked away, ears pink.
And then—
“OH MY GODDD—”
A sudden shout shattered the softness. Taesan nearly jumped, his whole body jolting as Jaehyun pulled the earphone out, startled.
Leehan came bounding toward them like a wind-up toy, eyes wide, mouth already open in excited disbelief.
“I knew it!” he cried, absolutely beaming. “This is the CUTEST thing I’ve ever seen!Are you kidding me?! Sharing an earphone?! Under the stars?! You’re not real!”
Taesan groaned immediately. “Leehan!”
“I’m sorry, I had to! Sungho, look!” Leehan waved behind him.
Sungho walked up a moment later, hands in his pockets, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Wow,” he said, drawing the word out. “Adorable.”
Taesan looked like he was seriously considering hurling himself off the porch.
Jaehyun, on the other hand, just laughed — full and unbothered. He held up the earphones dramatically. “I only bring out Elvis for the special ones.”
Sungho raised a brow. “That so?”
Taesan elbowed Jaehyun lightly. “Stop.”
Leehan, meanwhile, was still staring like he was witnessing history. “You guys look like you’re about to slow dance in a movie scene.”
“We weren’t—” Taesan began, exasperated, but it was no use. Leehan was already spinning some fantasy in his head.
They all talked for a while — easy chatter, laughter spilling over like a glass too full. Sungho leaned in closer to Leehan as they teased each other over some inside joke about their biology class, and Jaehyun still had one earphone lazily dangling from his shirt.
But eventually, Taesan stood, brushing his hands on his jeans. “We should go. It’s late.”
Leehan gave a soft whine but followed. Sungho said goodbye, nudging Leehan playfully, and Jaehyun rose to his feet too, eyes on Taesan as he walked past.
But before Taesan could leave,
“Hey, Taesan.”
Taesan turned, a little breathless.
Jaehyun stepped closer, smiling in that way again — like he knew his words were going to land right in Taesan’s chest. “You should smile more. It looks really pretty on you.”
Taesan blinked, frozen in place. Heat bloomed instantly under his skin.
“What-” he started, flustered, mouth opening before he could think.
Then he steadied himself, tilted his head, and said coolly, “Well… maybe you should talk less. You’re bad for my heart.”
Jaehyun turned red.
Sungho choked on a laugh behind him, Leehan clutched his chest like he’d just been shot.
“TAESAN?!” Leehan yelled, “Since when are you FLIRTY?”
Taesan shrugged, utterly deadpan. “Since now.”
Everyone was laughing, even Jaehyun, who covered half his face with his hand. “Oh my god, you’re gonna kill me.”
“Goodnight, Jaehyun,” Taesan said, soft but sweet, a little smirk pulling at his lips as he turned away.
“Night, Taesan,” Jaehyun called back, voice still warm and winded.
As they walked away, Leehan immediately started buzzing like a lit match.
“Okay. Okay. You like him. You so like him. And he so likes you back. I saw his face. He looked like he’s planning a whole future with you.”
Taesan rolled his eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”
“I’m being accurate!” Leehan argued, then sighed dreamily. “Ugh. Love is in the air. And so is Sungho’s cologne. Did you smell him? He smells like a boyfriend.”
“Oh my god,” Taesan muttered, “please stop talking.”
Leehan didn’t. “I think I saw my future when he said I was funny. Like, funny funny. Like ‘I’d marry you’ funny—”
Taesan reached into his jacket pocket, wanting to drown him out with music. But his fingers stilled as they touched something unexpected.
It was Jaehyun’s earphones.
Still tangled slightly — soft white cords knotted carelessly. But threaded between them was a small folded piece of paper.
Taesan blinked.
He pulled it out slowly.
Written in loopy handwriting, slightly smudged:
“In case you want to yap about rom-coms and listen to Elvis again
Jaehyun
[xxx-xxx-xxxx] ”
Taesan stared at it for a long moment. Then he smiled — slow, uncontrollable, real.
Leehan glanced over. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” Taesan said, slipping the note back into his pocket, heart warm and full.
“Is that a blush I see?” Leehan gasped.
“Shut up and keep walking.”
But Taesan was still smiling.
And he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.