Archive of Our Own

𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

This was a thought that often plagued Namgyu whenever he saw that kid, always on the fringes, trailing his aura of discretion, almost insignificance.

And, more often than he liked, Namgyu saw him in the company of Semi, that pathetic lesbian with her overly strong confidence and nonchalant attitude always bordering on judgment.

Semi, who was also a friend of Gyeong-su's, sometimes intruded into their circle. Namgyu had never tolerated Minsu's presence, nor Semi's for that matter. Minsu was too fragile, too transparent, too... just too much. An annoyance. A dead weight. A constant irritation.

Seeing Minsu with Semi, the little duo of outsiders, provoked an unpleasant sensation in Namgyu, a kind of disgust mixed with an inexplicable irritation. This baby, this insignificant one. Namgyu couldn't stand to see him, to know he was there, breathing the same air, dragging his miserable existence. Minsu, whether he liked it or not, was becoming a piece on Namgyu's chessboard. And Namgyu would make sure his place would be exactly where he assigned it. The pure, cold hatred for this kid began to crystallize, promising a future grip.

………

The university gym was a dome of cacophony, where the echoes of shouts and sneakers collided under the blinding neon lights.

Namgyu was there, as often, sitting alone on the wooden bleachers, elbows on his knees, chin resting on his fists. The noise, the bodies moving on the polished floor, all reached him only as a distant hum.

His eyes, dark and piercing, were fixed, not on the score, but on the central figure on the court, the epicenter of all this energy.

This man was Choi Su-bong. His friend. At least, that's what people said, what appearances suggested. Su-bong was tall, athletic, with a natural aura that attracted attention, a frank laugh that filled the space, and a disconcerting ease in waving his arms in victory.

He was the sun of their small social galaxy, the one everyone naturally gravitated towards. And Namgyu? He was the shadow that followed. The strategist. The brain. The one who pulled the strings behind the scenes without ever claiming glory, because glory, in this world, was often fleeting, and true power hid itself.

There was in Namgyu a twisted, almost morbid admiration for Su-bong. He recognized his brute strength, his undeniable charisma, that ease with which he navigated social waters.

Namgyu, on the other hand, had to calculate, anticipate, manipulate to get what he wanted. He looked at Su-bong and saw in him the embodiment of what he was not, and perhaps, secretly, what he might have desired to be.

But this admiration was inextricably linked to a visceral hatred. A dull, persistent hatred for that ease, that innate popularity that always relegated Namgyu to the background. His pride, a raging wild beast, suffered with each of Su-bong's successes, each laugh shared with others.

He was the chess player, Su-bong was the boxing champion, and the cheers always went to the fists, never to the mind.

Their friendship was a complex dance, a precarious balance of mutual respect on the surface and silent rivalry deep down.

Namgyu was Su-bong's close friend, and Gyeong-su's too, forming a trio often seen together. He was the confidant of Su-bong's schemes, Gyeong-su's discreet advisor.

He reveled in this position of influence, of being the essential cog that no one really noticed, but without whom the machine wouldn't run as smoothly. He drew a bitter satisfaction from knowing that he held hidden power, invisible control over the group's dynamics.

Today, like every day, Su-bong was the star of the gym, his shots thudding with noisy satisfaction, his teammates patting him on the back.

Namgyu watched him, a muscle barely trembling in his jaw, both savoring and detesting the power he exuded. He drank in the details, analyzed every movement, every interaction, searching for the flaw, the leverage. The world was a game, and Namgyu was a player who never accepted losing.

Yet, in the midst of this familiar spectacle, his gaze drifted, sweeping the crowd, the other anonymous faces in the stands and around the court.

He wasn't looking for anything specific. But then, his eyes caught on a particular figure.

It was Minsu.

——-

The sun lazily filtered through the large bay windows of the university cafeteria, casting patches of light on the crowded tables. The hubbub of conversations was incessant, a wall of sound that Namgyu had grown accustomed to tuning out. He sat at his usual table, set back, a book open but his gaze fixed on the crowd. He observed, always. It was his nature, his way of understanding the world, of spotting flaws and potentials.

It was an afternoon like any other, with no notable events. Choi Su-bong was there too.
Beside him, surrounded by laughter, his expansive presence filling the space. Gyeong-su was with him, his eternal smile on his lips. Namgyu watched them, a muscle barely trembling in his jaw. Admiration and hatred mixed within him, a constant duality he managed in silence. Su-bong was the star, the popularity magnet. Namgyu was the shadow, the strategist weaving invisible webs.

His gaze swept the cafeteria, searching, without truly searching. It landed on a familiar silhouette, isolated at a small table by the window. Minsu. He was eating, hunched over his tray, his posture sullen. Beside him, Semi, with her always calm and confident demeanor, laughed, a hand placed on Minsu's shoulder.

An imperceptible sigh escaped Namgyu's lips. The sight of Minsu always provoked an unpleasant irritation in him.

That kid. He was so... insignificant. Too shy, too discreet, trailing that aura of fragility that made him itch. And Semi, always clinging to him, like a parasite. Namgyu couldn't stand Minsu, nor his erased demeanor, nor his propensity to cling to any soul a little less alone than himself. It was a weakness he found repugnant.

He had already crossed paths with Minsu several times, in the hallways, in the lecture halls. He had never paid attention to him. Minsu was just an indistinct mass among others, an uninteresting figure.
But for the past few weeks, the mere sight of Minsu caused a slight frown in Namgyu, a fleeting annoyance he couldn't explain. Why did this kid irritate him so much? He wasn't doing anything particular, just existing.
And yet, this very existence, this apparent fragility, this way of blending into the background, got on his nerves. It was like a constant scratch on his conscience, a dissonance in the order he liked to observe.

Namgyu looked away, apparent disdain on his features. Minsu was just an insignificant detail in his field of vision, a minor nuisance. The kind of person you'd prefer never to cross paths with. And if his path came to cross Minsu's more insistently, Namgyu knew it would only be to put that kid in his place. The place that suited him: out of sight, out of mind. It was just contempt, pure and simple. And Namgyu was going to make sure Minsu felt it too.

———

The hallways of the art and design department were an eclectic mix of oil paint and strong glue smells, a world Namgyu frequented only out of academic obligation.

There was the constant sound of brushes on easels, the scratching of pencils on sketches. A creative disorder he couldn't appreciate, too accustomed to the cold order of numbers and strategies.

He walked through an open classroom, his gaze sweeping over students hunched over their works, seeking a mental shortcut to escape this visual cacophony. That's when he saw him again. Minsu.

Minsu was sitting, hunched over a canvas, his brow furrowed in concentration. His hair fell over his eyes, and he nervously ran a hand through the back of his neck. Beside him, Semi was crouched, an overly wide smile on her face, her laugh a bit too loud for the relative quiet of the studio. She pointed at something on Minsu's canvas, clearly amused.

A frown appeared on Namgyu's face. He imperceptibly slowed his pace, his eyes fixing on the duo.

The image of Minsu, so absorbed, so... vulnerable in his concentration, irritated Namgyu. And the presence of that bitch Semi, always there, in his environment, was disturbing.

She was a constant nuisance, a noisy, intrusive entity he would have preferred to ignore. The fact that she was meddling in Minsu's affairs added another layer of disgust.

"You're wasting your time with people like that, Minsu," Namgyu thought, his contempt barely contained. It wasn't the burning hatred he reserved for his most direct rivals, but a colder, more insidious form. A hatred for weakness, for naivety, for everything Minsu seemed to embody.

He watched Minsu look up at Semi, a small, shy smile lighting his face, a subtle blush rising to his cheeks. This reaction, this expression of adorable awkwardness, twisted Namgyu's stomach in an unpleasant way. Why was this kid so transparent? So easy to read? And why did this weakness make him so angry?

The scene was commonplace, but Namgyu's irritation intensified. Minsu was there, in his field of vision, again, like a stain that couldn't be ignored. And the way he allowed himself to be approached by just anyone, especially by someone as... intrusive as Semi, was intolerable.

It was a kind of silent betrayal, even if Namgyu would never have admitted why he felt that way.

Without realizing it, Namgyu had stopped. He was there, right at the entrance of the studio, observing Minsu and Semi, his gaze cold and distant. Minsu didn't see him. Semi didn't either. And for Namgyu, that was preferable. He didn't want to be seen paying any attention to such people.

Contempt was his facade, his shield. He forced himself to look away, to resume his path, his footsteps echoing on the concrete floor.

The image of Minsu, that annoying kid, nevertheless imprinted itself on his mind, a new irritation to manage. And he knew he would manage it. In his own way.

—————

The social sciences hallways were usually packed, a constant stream of students heading to lectures or tutorials. But this particular morning, just before peak time, an unusual calm settled. Namgyu walked at an even pace, his bag slung over his shoulder, his thoughts already consumed by the complex reading he needed to prepare. He was early, a habit he cultivated to avoid crowds and the superficiality of forced interactions.

Then, just ahead of him, a few meters away, he spotted the hesitant figure of Minsu. He was struggling with a locker latch that seemed stuck, his fingers vainly fumbling with the small metal handle. Books had already fallen to his feet, forming a small, messy pile.

A slight frown creased Namgyu's face. Him. Always so inefficient. The sight of Minsu, tangled in such a simple task, evoked a feeling of sharp disdain. It wasn't anger yet, just a profound contempt for this commonplace incompetence, this inability to handle the slightest obstacle. Minsu represented everything Namgyu found unbearable: clumsiness, fragility, that silent reliance on luck or the help of others.

Namgyu didn't slow his pace. He walked directly toward Minsu, his cold eyes fixed on the scene. He could have gone to the other side of the hallway, ignored him. But something within him, a perverse instinct, compelled him.

As he passed right by Minsu, Namgyu barely brushed him. He didn't need to stop or speak. A simple glance, cast from above, would suffice. Namgyu's gaze was a mix of disgust and a kind of profound boredom.

He saw Minsu flinch, sense his presence, his gaze, without even having to lift his head. The tension in Minsu's shoulders became palpable.
Namgyu continued on his way without a word, the sound of his footsteps fading on the linoleum floor. He left Minsu behind, still grappling with his locker and scattered books.

The incident was minor, almost insignificant. But for Namgyu, it was a confirmation. Further proof of Minsu's vulnerability and uselessness. And a reminder that, even effortlessly, he already exerted a kind of power over him. A power of silent, yet devastating, contempt.

———-

The main study hall was steeped in a studious silence, broken only by the rustling of pages and the occasional click of keyboards. Namgyu sat at an isolated table, hunched over complex diagrams, his brow furrowed in concentration. The outside world ceased to exist, absorbed by the logical order of numbers.

Then, a shadow loomed beside his table.
"N-Namgyu...?" The voice was soft, hesitant, barely a whisper.
Namgyu didn't move. Not a muscle in his face twitched. He hated being interrupted, especially when the source of the interruption was so... insignificant.

He recognized Minsu's voice. Annoyance surged within him, a cold and immediate irritation.

He slowly raised his head, his eyes meeting Minsu's. Minsu's gaze held its usual shyness, a mix of apprehension and a strange glimmer of hope. That alone was enough to exasperate Namgyu.

"What do you want?" His words were spoken in a neutral voice, but the coldness of his tone was palpable, a hidden sharpness. There was no warmth, no invitation. Just a direct question, full of underlying contempt.
Minsu visibly flinched, his body stiffening.

He clasped his hands together. "I... I just wanted to ask if... if you had the social psychology class notes. I was absent last week, and..."

Namgyu raised an eyebrow, the movement almost imperceptible. "And you think I'm your maid? Or your personal secretary?" His voice remained calm, but every word was a barb. "I have better things to do than catch up people who can't even manage their own schedules. If you have problems, deal with them. It's not my concern."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Minsu from head to toe, obvious disdain in his eyes. "And frankly, if you're incapable of keeping up with a class, maybe you should reconsider your priorities. Or just give up. You're wasting my time."

Minsu took a step back, his face paling, lips trembling. The small glimmer in his eyes extinguished, replaced by deep hurt. He opened his mouth as if to protest, but no sound came out.
Without another word, Namgyu turned his back on Minsu.

There was no sudden gesture, no displayed anger, just a fluid, normal movement. He took a few steps, then a few more, walking away unhurriedly, leaving Minsu frozen, alone, in the middle of the silent study hall. The conversation was over, without appeal. Minsu was dismissed to his insignificance.

————
The cafeteria was a noisy chaos of clanking trays and animated conversations.

The smell of gratin dauphinois mingled with coffee, creating a sensory cacophony that Namgyu usually managed to ignore. He sat at his usual table with his two other friends, set back but with a strategic view of the entire room, observing the ebb and flow of students.

Su-bong laughed loudly, as always, his laughter resounding above the ambient din, and Gyeong-su was by his side, absorbed in his phone.

Namgyu was distractedly sorting the pasta on his plate when his gaze fell upon a scene a little further away. Minsu was there, holding his tray in one hand, looking lost in the crowded queue. He seemed to hesitate, searching for a spot, visibly uncomfortable with the crowd. Beside him, Semi was talking to him, her body animated by a peaceful energy, as always.

An internal sigh escaped Namgyu. Him. Again. His presence here, in the middle of the cafeteria, was an aberration. Minsu was so visibly out of sync, so ill-suited to this environment. This display of weakness irritated Namgyu to no end. He detested this overt vulnerability, this lack of control that Minsu involuntarily projected.

Then Minsu, visibly jostled by someone in the line, spilled part of his lunch onto another student's tray, who turned around, annoyed. Minsu apologized awkwardly, his face turning crimson. Semi intervened, her cold and calm aura facing the situation with a firm zeal that gradually calmed things down.

How did that bitch do it?

She had no charisma, emanated no fear...

And above all, she was a girl.

Namgyu would have already sent them scrambling away.

Or not.

Namgyu felt a wave of disgust wash over him. It was so... Minsu. Always making waves, even when trying to be invisible. Always causing problems by his mere presence. Minsu's awkwardness was palpable, and Namgyu found it repulsive.

Just then, their gazes met. Minsu looked up, his eyes meeting Namgyu's across the crowd and tables. There was shame in Minsu's eyes, a silent distress.

Namgyu, for his part, stared at him with a cold, relentless gaze, his face devoid of all emotion, but his eyes burned with pure contempt. He didn't look away; on the contrary, he held it, letting Minsu be consumed by his intensity. It was a clear message: you are a mistake, and I see it.

The altercation between Minsu and the student finally subsided, Semi dragging Minsu towards a free table, out of sight. Namgyu, for his part, hadn't moved. He continued to eat his meal, but the image of Minsu, his clumsiness and distress, remained etched in his mind, further proof of his insignificance. It wasn't pity, nor compassion. It was a conviction. And a persistent source of annoyance.

——

The gym reeked of sweat and chalk, a pungent scent typical of mandatory sports classes. Voices echoed under the high ceiling, mingling with the sounds of balls and footsteps on the polished floor. Today, classes were mixed, an unwelcome coincidence for Namgyu, who had already spotted Minsu's discreet figure at the other end of the court. The latter seemed, as usual, to be doing his best to go unnoticed, blending into the background of the other students

Namgyu was waiting for his turn for an exercise, his gaze fixed on Minsu, a barely visible moue of disdain on his lips. Every clumsy gesture from Minsu, every hesitation, every failed attempt to pretend to be at ease, fueled that nagging irritation in Namgyu.

"Seriously, look at him..." Namgyu muttered to Su-bong, who was by his side, a towel around his neck, displaying a disarming smile. Namgyu's voice was low, a mix of contempt and barely contained frustration. He gave a slight nod towards Minsu, who had just fumbled a ball with visible embarrassment.

Su-bong followed his gaze. He watched Minsu for a moment, then turned his head back to Namgyu with a slight shrug. "Come on, man," he replied, his voice surprisingly gentle, almost indulgent.
There was no malice in his tone, just benevolent indifference. For Su-bong, Minsu was just Minsu, a somewhat clumsy guy, nothing more.

This lack of reaction, this absence of contempt from Su-bong, hit Namgyu hard. The mere pity, or even indifference, that Su-bong displayed was a tacit insult to Namgyu's own aversion. It was as if Su-bong validated Minsu's existence, an existence that Namgyu found intolerable.

A cold rage rose in Namgyu, his face impassive, but a muscle in his jaw tightened. He looked away from Su-bong, and his teeth bit into his lower lip with such force that he almost tasted blood.

The frustration was immense, an insurmountable wall. Su-bong didn't understand. He didn't see what Namgyu saw, or at least, he didn't perceive it with the same devouring intensity. And that made Minsu's presence even more unbearable.

———
The campus was bathed in a cold sun, the air crisp and sharp. Namgyu walked through the main faculty hall, heading to his next class. Students came and went, a constant flow of anonymous faces.
Then he saw him. Minsu, coming out of a room, head down, clearly lost in thought. He held books clutched to his chest, his steps hesitant. He wasn't looking where he was going.

Namgyu didn't change his trajectory. He didn't slow down, didn't swerve. He continued straight ahead. The contact was minuscule, barely perceptible. Namgyu's shoulder brushed Minsu's, a fleeting touch that lasted no more than five seconds.

It was a graze, a simple coincidence in the flow of bodies.
Minsu flinched, abruptly lifting his head. His eyes, wide with surprise, met Namgyu's, which hadn't stopped.

Namgyu's gaze was quick, cold, and full of that familiar disdain. He said nothing, didn't slow down, his face impassive. But this micro-contact, this small collision, had been deliberate. Minsu was a distraction, a mistake. And Namgyu was going to make sure he understood his place.

He continued on his way, leaving Minsu behind him, frozen in the middle of the hallway. The contact had been brief, insignificant to any observer. But for Namgyu, and for Minsu, it had been a silent reminder. A promise of a future, unspoken grip, already in motion.

———
Minsu hurriedly rinsed his hands in the school bathroom, the cold water barely cooling the pervasive warmth that enveloped him. He was already late for science class, but his stomach had twisted with a sudden pain, forcing this unexpected break. He grabbed a paper towel, drying his damp fingers.

A calm, yet razor-sharp voice echoed behind him, making him jump. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

Minsu froze. He immediately recognized the timbre. Namgyu.

He turned slowly, his heart beating a little faster. Namgyu was leaning against the doorframe, a lit cigarette between his fingers. His gaze, usually cold, held a peculiar intensity, staring unblinkingly at Minsu. The air suddenly filled with a palpable tension, heavy like the silence that followed.

"I-I... I was just going to the restroom," Minsu stammered, his eyes darting away from Namgyu's piercing gaze to the tiled floor.

Namgyu didn't reply immediately. He straightened from the wall, taking a few slow steps towards Minsu, appearing detached, the cigarette still at his lips. The acrid smell of tobacco hung in the air, mixing with the scent of soap.

Minsu remained motionless, as if paralyzed, watching Namgyu approach, his mind unable to formulate an escape.

When Namgyu was close enough, the tension between them was almost unbearable. Minsu, trying to break the silence, looked up slightly. "And... and you?" he asked softly, his voice barely a whisper.

Namgyu stopped right in front of him. His face was impassive, his eyes fixed on Minsu. Slowly, he tilted his head, bringing the cigarette closer to his lips, took a long drag, then leaned towards Minsu.

The warm smoke drifted from his slightly parted lips and enveloped Minsu's face, stinging him faintly, forcing him to squint. Namgyu's gaze never left him, intense and piercing, a silent challenge.

Then, he slowly straightened, one hand holding the cigarette, the other slipped into his pocket. His face still displayed that unsettling neutrality. "It's none of your business," he uttered, his voice calm but heavy with disdain.

Minsu swallowed, feeling utterly small. He just nodded, not daring another word, and quickly moved around Namgyu towards the door. He hurried out of the bathroom, his heart pounding. Namgyu, for his part, remained standing, the cigarette between his fingers, but didn't take his eyes off Minsu until his figure disappeared down the hallway.

————- Namgyu's room was plunged into darkness, the city lights barely filtering through the drawn blinds. The silence was heavy, broken only by the distant hum of traffic and the monotonous ticking of the clock. He lay on his back, arms crossed behind his head, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Sleep, that night, was an unattainable luxury, plagued by a persistent image, a stain he couldn't erase from his mind.

Minsu. Him again.

The very name provoked a wave of disgust. He replayed the scene in the hallway, the moment their bodies brushed. That brief, seemingly involuntary contact had left an unbearable mark. Minsu's shoulder, that pale, slightly soft flesh. It was repugnant. How could such an insignificant creature intrude into his thoughts like this? It was absurd. Undignified.

He's so... pale. His eyes, always that glimmer of terror mixed with something else, something I don't grasp. And his hands, always a little trembling. Everything about him screams fragility. Purity. It's repugnant. I hate it. I hate this weakness, this ease with which he seems to break. Why on earth do I keep thinking about him? He's of no importance. None.

Frustration grew, a tight knot in his stomach. He was Namgyu. The one who controlled, who manipulated, who saw through the weaknesses of others without ever succumbing to them himself. And yet, this kid, Minsu, by his mere existence, by his inherent clumsiness, by his open vulnerability, managed to disturb him. It was unacceptable. An error in his matrix of control.

He closed his eyes, hoping to banish the tenacious image. But there it was, Minsu, that figure he despised so much, floating in the darkness behind his eyelids. And the more he tried to erase him, the more he became ingrained, giving off an odor of weakness that gnawed at him. There was no doubt. Minsu had become a problem. A problem he would have to manage.

———-
The campus buzzed with the excitement of the lunch break. The pathways were crowded, laughter and conversations intertwined, creating a joyful cacophony. Namgyu walked with a determined stride, his sharp gaze sweeping the crowd, a latent sense of annoyance accompanying him. He disliked crowds and the disorder they implied.

As he rounded a group of noisy students, he saw him. Minsu. He was standing near a vending machine, visibly struggling with a coin that wouldn't be accepted.

His brows were furrowed in frustration, and he nervously tapped the machine. Semi was by his side, offering unhelpful advice with her usual enthusiasm.

A sigh of disdain escaped Namgyu's lips.

Pathetic.

The scene was dismally mundane, but it was enough to exasperate Namgyu. Minsu, unable to operate the simplest of machines, still as clumsy, still as dependent on others.

Namgyu couldn't help but stop a few steps away, observing the scene with a cold, critical gaze. He had no intention of intervening, but Minsu's displayed weakness was a silent provocation to his own self-mastery.

Finally, Minsu let out a small grunt of frustration and gently hit the vending machine. The coin finally dropped, and he was able to choose his drink. The moment he turned around, his gaze met Namgyu's.

Minsu's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise and apprehension crossing his face. He seemed to shrink into himself, as if Namgyu's mere presence was a threat.

"Having trouble with technology, Minsu?" Namgyu's voice was low, a murmur that carried a hint of venom. There was no question, only an acerbic affirmation.

His tone was filled with unconcealed contempt, each word a small bite. "Or are you just... slow to understand how basic things work?"

Minsu paled, his lips trembling. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Semi, by his side, seemed about to intervene, but she contained her anger, as if waiting to see how far the other dared to go. Her eyes, usually calm, flashed with every word from Namgyu.

Namgyu took a step forward, then another, narrowing the distance between them. His gaze was intense, piercing, fixing on Minsu like an insect under a magnifying glass.

. "You know, there are some people who are just... made to be helped. And others who are made to help. And you, Minsu, are clearly not in the second category. You're a burden, a constant nuisance."

He paused, letting his words sink in. Minsu was motionless, his eyes fixed on Namgyu, a mixture of fear and deep hurt.

Then, a voice erupted.

"That's enough, Namgyu!! What is it with you always picking on others like this?!" Semi's voice, usually calm and nonchalant, resonated, clear and firm, but this time, it was charged with a rising fury, no longer trying to hide it. Her words snapped in the hallway.

"Seriously, aren't you tired of ruining the atmosphere and going after those who can't defend themselves?! Look at yourself ! You're just pathetic with your grand airs! Go deal with your own problems, and leave us alone, dammit!"

Her dark eyes were fixed on Namgyu's back, burning with deep indignation.
Namgyu stopped. He slowly pivoted to face her fully, his body tense.

He listened to her, his face closed, his eyes dark, unblinking. When Semi finished, a bitter sneer twisted his lips. "Mind your own business, Semi. You know nothing about my problems. And even less about what I do. It's none of your goddamn business. And you should let this poor piece of trash practice defending himself instead of playing watchdog. He's incapable of defending himself!"

His tone was sharp, a low, enraged growl. He held her gaze for a moment, a silent challenge passing between them.

Then, with one last contemptuous look, he abruptly turned on his heel and strode away, muttering more insults under his breath. His gait was stiff, his shoulders hunched, the icy aura lingering in his wake.

Minsu's eyes began to well up, his eyelids blinking to hold back the tears threatening to overflow. Semi placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Her gaze remained fixed on Namgyu's retreating figure, filled with tenacious hatred.

"Come on," she said, her voice softer but still determined. "Let's go. Don't listen to that idiot, he just has nothing better to do with his days." She squeezed Minsu's shoulder slightly, urging him to move.

———

The days following the vending machine altercation brought a subtle shift in Namgyu's environment. Minsu no longer appeared with the same predictability. He seemed to have developed a new ability to render himself invisible, slipping out of hallways, disappearing from cafeterias just before Namgyu entered them. A mouse attempting to evade a glance, even if that glance afforded him only superficial disdain.

Namgyu noticed it. Not that he genuinely cared about Minsu's presence or absence. It was ridiculous to think such an individual could occupy his thoughts. But this avoidance, this cowardly maneuver, was in itself an irritation. It was like a fly that, even if unseen, one knows is there, buzzing somewhere.

One morning, as he headed towards the lecture hall, Namgyu spotted Minsu in the distance, at the entrance. Minsu hesitated, his gaze sweeping the room before briefly stopping on Namgyu. Immediately, Minsu looked away, his body stiffened, and he changed direction, heading towards another entrance, clearly to avoid crossing Namgyu's path.

A dull frustration rose in Namgyu. Not anger, no.

Just profound exasperation. This softie is too weak for anything. The thought crossed his mind, imbued with icy contempt. That he would be so terrified by a mere presence was laughable. It's not like I'm going to eat him. The very idea that Minsu could feel threatened by Namgyu was proof of his intrinsic weakness.

He continued on his way, watching Minsu walk away, his steps quick. Minsu's avoidance wasn't resistance, but a confirmation. Proof of his cowardice, his inability to face the slightest confrontation. And that irritated Namgyu, disturbing him with its lack of dignity. Minsu was an insect hiding under a rock, and Namgyu found this weakness repugnant.

Later that day, Namgyu found himself in the library. Minsu was there, at a distant table, his back turned. He was visibly avoiding the aisles where Namgyu was circulating. Namgyu's contempt intensified. He's so predictable. So transparent in his fear. This cowardice was an affront, a silent insult to strength and self-control. It was unacceptable for such weakness to manifest so openly.

Namgyu made no move to approach. He merely observed. He knew Minsu sensed him. And he knew Minsu would continue to avoid him. It was a game, and Namgyu was simply annoyed that Minsu wasn't playing the role he had unconsciously assigned him: that of an insignificant and submissive presence.

——-

The cafeteria hummed as usual, a cacophonous blend of laughter, chatter, and clinking cutlery.

Namgyu, settled in his usual corner, sipped his glass of water, observing the scene with his customary indifference. His gaze wandered aimlessly until it landed on Minsu, a somewhat awkward guy with a knack for attracting trouble. Today, it was a burly football player teasing him, a hand on his shoulder, his tone mocking. Minsu, uncomfortable, tried to pull away, his face reddening.

Without even realizing it, Namgyu imperceptibly tightened his grip on his glass of water. The slightly damp glass left a faint mark on his palm. He didn't notice the gesture, too busy staring at the scene with feigned neutrality. Minsu finally escaped, nearly bumping into a server, while the other guy laughed at his discomfort. Namgyu simply emptied his glass, a muscle in his jaw barely contracting.

In the days that followed, something strange happened. Namgyu found himself, almost against his will, observing Minsu more often than he would have thought possible. In the hallways, during class, in the cafeteria... his eyes seemed to drift towards him, an almost involuntary habit.

Each time he saw him stumble, drop his belongings, or simply interact awkwardly, a form of cynical amusement rose within him. "It's funny to watch such a pathetic guy," he'd tell himself, trying to justify this newfound curiosity. Minsu was a kind of unwitting spectacle, an easy distraction in the monotony of his days.

But invariably, after a few seconds of observation, Namgyu would look away, a slight frown crossing his face. "It's ridiculous," he'd think with annoyance. "Ridiculous to watch a guy like him." He didn't understand why his eyes lingered, and this incomprehension made him strangely uncomfortable. He tried to chase Minsu's image from his mind, but it returned, fleetingly, like a distant echo.

———

The night had fallen, thick and silent over the sleeping city. In the darkness of his room, Namgyu stared at the ceiling, arms crossed behind his head.
His thoughts, usually so orderly, scattered that night. Against his will, Minsu's image resurfaced. He saw again his slightly hesitant walk, his nervous laugh, the way his hair fell over his forehead when he was embarrassed. A dull irritation rose within him. Why was this guy intruding into his thoughts?

He abruptly turned onto his side, a barely audible groan escaping him. No. It was ridiculous. Useless to dwell on such an individual. He had to chase away this intrusive thought, push it far away, like swatting an annoying mosquito. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to regain the soothing emptiness of his usual mind, but the image persisted, like a stubborn stain on a white board.

The next day, life resumed its course, and with it, the routine of involuntary observations. Namgyu caught Minsu out of the corner of his eye, always telling himself it was out of pure curiosity for such a "pathetic" specimen. He wouldn't admit it, but a part of him unconsciously sought to find him, to locate him in his field of vision.

The late afternoon was approaching. Namgyu, his back leaning against a gym wall, waited, looking detached. His gaze swept the courtyard, observing the groups of students dispersing. In the distance, near the benches, he spotted Minsu, huddled in a corner, head down, visibly uncomfortable. Probably another problem with someone. Namgyu was about to look away, indifferent, when an imposing figure approached Minsu. It was Thanos.

Thanos, true to form, stopped in front of Minsu, an air of defiance and superiority painted on his face. Minsu timidly looked up. Namgyu couldn't hear their words, the distance being too great, but he watched the scene unfold.

Thanos leaned down, then, with a kind of unexpected lightness, extended his hand towards Minsu. A firm and still too grotesque hand that rested on Minsu's shoulder, making him stand up. It looked like he was saying something like, "What are you doing here, little Minsu? Come on, get up." Minsu straightened up, still looking a bit sheepish, but
Thanos's hand remained on his shoulder for a moment, as if to keep him standing, to pull him out of his isolation.
Namgyu, who had involuntarily held his breath, immediately looked away. He didn't care, of course.

It wasn't his problem. He turned completely, pretending to be interested in the graffiti on the opposite wall. But under his clenched jaw, his teeth ground, a sound so slight he didn't even hear it himself, lost in the silent tumult of his thoughts.

——

The days turned into weeks, and the school settled back into its usual rhythm, weaving the fabric of daily existence. For Namgyu, however, a new layer had been added to this routine: the discreet omnipresence of Minsu and, even more irritatingly, of Thanos.
Minsu continued to be... Minsu. A bit clumsy, sometimes lost in thought, but with a strange resilience that always brought him back to his feet.

And Thanos, that exuberant "muscleman," seemed to have made a habit of gravitating around him. Ever since Namgyu had decided to avoid any altercation and contact with Minsu.
As if that bastard had deliberately spent more time with this miserable piece of trash, wasting his time, rather than spending it with him.

He often crossed paths with them. In the hallways, Thanos would place a friendly hand on Minsu's shoulder, yelling jokes that only he understood. In the cafeteria, Minsu would laugh, a bit forced, at Thanos's banter, who would clap him on the back with disarming force. Always that noisy camaraderie, that innocent familiarity.

Each time, Namgyu would look away, a wave of frustration rising within him. He tried to attribute it to pure annoyance. Why did this living mascot have to parade around with this loud giant? It was absurd. He kept telling himself it was simply the spectacle of human idiocy that irritated him.

But the grinding of his teeth, now an almost imperceptible tic when he saw the scene, told another story. He clenched his jaw, looking elsewhere, but his mind remained fixated on this interaction he pretended to ignore.

One night, the silence of his room was broken by the sound of his own agitation.

Namgyu, eyes open in the dark, felt a dull anger rising within him. It was that image of Thanos and Minsu, one laughing and the other listening, near the lockers, that haunted him. An objectless anger, a jealousy he would never have dared to name or even acknowledge, because it was directed towards something as senseless as the innocent friendship of two guys he didn't even respect. He turned abruptly, burying his head in his pillow, as if to stifle these unpleasant thoughts. "Stop," he commanded himself, his inner voice hoarse. "It's stupid."

——-
The days grew longer, classes came and went, and the presence of Minsu and Thanos became an increasingly prominent backdrop in Namgyu's world. It wasn't a noisy intrusion, more like a persistent white noise, always there, in the background.

Namgyu found himself spotting Minsu without even thinking about it, like a Pavlovian reflex. If he saw a crowd, he'd look for Minsu at the center. If a loud laugh rang out, he knew Thanos wasn't far, and that Minsu was probably by his side, enduring his jokes with his usual awkwardness. What stung him most was the ease with which Minsu seemed to accept this presence. Not that he was thrilled by it, but he never rejected it.

There was a kind of innocence in the way Minsu interacted with Thanos, an acceptance that Namgyu found both incomprehensible and deeply irritating.
He observed Minsu, sometimes from afar, sometimes a little closer in the hallways.

He noted the small details: the way Minsu chewed on his pen cap when he was concentrating, the way he looked down when spoken to directly, or that habit of rubbing his neck when he was embarrassed. Namgyu was surprised to know these details, and an unpleasant feeling washed over him. Why was he dwelling on such trivialities concerning a guy he considered insignificant?

This involuntary curiosity, which he always justified as deriving amusement from observing a "pathetic" individual, began to weigh on him. His own thoughts were becoming a prison, a constant loop of Minsu, Thanos, and that dull frustration rising within him.

———

The pressure on Namgyu was mounting. He felt more tense, more irritable. The slightest misstep by a classmate, the smallest remark from a professor—everything seemed sharper than before. And the cause, he vaguely sensed, was rooted in this dynamic he stubbornly tried to ignore.

Thanos and Minsu. They were everywhere. Or at least, that's what Namgyu was starting to feel and had convinced himself of.
One day in the library, Namgyu, immersed in his studies, heard them. Muffled laughter, whispers. He looked up, just for a moment. Thanos was leaning over Minsu's table, showing him something in a book, a wide smile on his face. Minsu was laughing softly, covering his mouth with his hand. It was an innocuous scene, an ordinary friendship. But for Namgyu, it was like a splinter.

A primitive, raw, and utterly incomprehensible jealousy flashed through his mind. He immediately repressed it, vehemently denying it. It was absurd.

Jealous of what? A relationship between a brute and a loser? Unthinkable. He forcibly redirected his attention to his textbook, but the words danced before his eyes.

That night, sleep was a battle. Namgyu tossed and turned, frustration knotting his stomach. The images of the two boys, laughing, conversing, intruded into his mind, causing increasing irritation. He clenched his fists under the covers, his jaw tightened. He wanted it to stop. He wanted this senseless obsession to disappear. But the more he tried to chase it away, the more it became ingrained, transforming his denial into a palpable tension.

———

The spring days stretched into summer, bringing with them a carefree lightness that Namgyu couldn't seem to feel. On the contrary, a discomfort within him grew, fueled by a constant observation he could no longer ignore: Thanos's ease.
And the worst irony was that Thanos was his friend. Not a close, intimate friend, because Namgyu didn't really have any, but a connection established over years, a veiled mutual respect, an implicit camaraderie that bound them.
He often saw them, Thanos and Minsu, surrounded by other students. Laughter erupted, jokes flew.

Thanos, always at the center, seemed to radiate an aura of effortlessness, of acceptance. People gravitated towards him, smiling, relaxed. He joked, clapped shoulders, and even Minsu, despite his shyness, seemed more at ease in his presence. Minsu laughed more easily with Thanos than Namgyu had ever seen him laugh.
Sitting at a cafeteria table on a sunny afternoon, Namgyu observed them from afar. Thanos was recounting an anecdote, gesturing enthusiastically. Heads turned towards him, faces lit up.

A nagging question began to sprout in Namgyu's mind, a question he usually suppressed, but which now imposed itself with new brutality: Why? Why did people seem so happy, so at ease around Thanos? Why this ease, this effortless popularity?

A pang of bitterness pierced him, amplified by their friendship. Why couldn't he be the same? He, Namgyu, who mastered everything, who controlled his emotions, who was supposed to be superior. He had never sought popularity, had even disdained it.

Yet, the obviousness of Thanos's ease, contrasting with his own icy reserve, gnawed at him. He felt himself in the shadow of this solar aura, a shadow he had always claimed, but which, suddenly, felt like a prison.

The very idea of trying to be "the same" was unbearable to him, but the thought persisted, like a silent, bitter regret, all the more difficult to accept because it concerned a friend.

———-
The days stretched on, a familiar routine turning strange. Namgyu still hung out with Thanos, out of habit.

They sometimes ate together, studied, talked. But these moments were now tense.
Minsu, though not in their class, was often there. Thanos would call out to him, wave him over. Namgyu watched them. Thanos, arm around Minsu's shoulders, a radiant smile. Minsu, face a little flushed, laughing shyly, letting it happen. He was just embarrassed and timid, that's all. Each scene was an irritant.

In class, sitting not far from Thanos, Namgyu's gaze lingered. A silent hatred rose.

He saw Thanos laugh, answer questions, stretch. Namgyu clenched his teeth, his jaw tight. Impossible to say anything to Thanos. He would have mocked him. And his pride prevented it.
Then, a cold idea sprouted. Thanos didn't deserve a "loser" like Minsu. Minsu was a dead weight. Thanos, his friend, shouldn't be burdened with that. Minsu had to understand that this "friendship" wasn't one.

He would look for the right moment. Minsu alone, vulnerable. He would be subtle, discreet. Just a seed of doubt. Thanos didn't deserve to hang out with him.

——

The smell of disinfectants hung in the almost deserted infirmary, leaving behind only the soothing silence of white sheets. Minsu sat on a bed, a small cold compress on his temple, the result of an all too familiar hallway "accident." Thanos was there, not out of obligation, but out of a persistent, almost amused curiosity that gnawed at him. He sat on the edge of the bed next to Minsu, legs crossed, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Another stumble, Minsu?" Thanos's tone was light, teasing, but without the slightest hint of hurtful malice, just playful mockery.

Minsu flinched, his hand unconsciously touching his temple. "Just... carelessness." His voice was too quick, too evasive.

Thanos didn't laugh. His smirk deepened, his dark eyes fixing on Minsu with sudden intensity. "Well, well. Funny kind of carelessness, that. Happens often, doesn't it? Especially with Namgyu." He let the sentence hang, observing Minsu's reaction.

Minsu looked away, a blush creeping up his cheeks. "He's... he's just a bit... rough."

"Rough?" Thanos leaned in slightly, his gaze amused and sharp at once. His voice softened, an almost seductive murmur. "You know, Minsu, I've always said, that Namgyu is a mystery. He was treats you like dirt in front of everyone these last time, but as soon as he thinks no one's looking, he gets... intrusive." His hand slowly reached out, his thumb lightly brushing Minsu's flushed cheekbone. The gesture was of an exquisite gentleness, a striking contrast to Namgyu's usual assaults. Minsu shivered.

"Looks like you have a thing for boy like him, huh?" Thanos's tone was playful, but his gaze remained fixed on Minsu's, searching for a crack. "He hurts you, he yells at you, he treats you like nothing. And yet... you say nothing every time. You let him." His voice dropped even lower, dangerously close to a murmur. "Do you like it, Minsu? Do you like the pain he gives you?"

Minsu swallowed hard, his eyes wide. The question was too direct, too raw. He opened his mouth to protest, to vehemently deny, but the soft contact of Thanos's thumb on his skin, the proximity of his face, paralyzed him. The silence thickened, vibrating with tension.

Thanos slightly tightened his grip on Minsu's jaw, a contact that wasn't brutal, but strangely possessive and gentle. He leaned even closer, his warm breath on Minsu's trembling lips. "You know, I'm not like him. I don't yell. I don't hit." His gaze slid from his eyes to his lips. "So, tell me, Minsu... do you prefer my gentleness, or his violence?"

The question snapped in the air like a whip, forcing Minsu to confront not only what he endured, but what he felt. His cheeks were scarlet, his heart pounding against his ribs. He was trapped by Thanos's gaze, unable to move, to answer. Thanos's gentleness was a temptation, but Namgyu's violence... that violence too had become, in a perverse way, a form of attraction.

Thanos observed every micro-expression, every tremor. His smirk faded, replaced by a more serious, almost disappointed expression, but without bitterness. He withdrew his hand, breaking the bubble of tense intimacy he had created.

"Just as I thought," he simply murmured, a barely perceptible sigh. He stood up, his lightness returned. "Well. Don't forget to take your painkiller." He walked out of the infirmary, leaving Minsu alone, Thanos's words echoing in his mind, and the confusion growing, stronger than the ache in his temple.

————

The tension continued to mount in Namgyu. He still hung out with Thanos, as usual, but his mind was elsewhere, always on alert. Every smile Minsu directed at Thanos, every friendly pat, was a sting. Namgyu clenched his fists, unnoticed by anyone. His silent hatred for Thanos was growing.

One afternoon, Namgyu saw Minsu alone near the lockers, searching for something in his bag with a lost look. This was his chance.
Namgyu approached, appearing indifferent. "Did you lose something?" His voice was neutral, almost disinterested.

Minsu jumped. "Oh, uh... no. Just my keys. They must be at the bottom." He seemed uncomfortable with Namgyu's presence.
"Thanos isn't helping you?" Namgyu asked, a hint of veiled sarcasm in his tone. He raised an eyebrow. "He's always so quick to lend a hand, isn't he?"

Minsu looked around, then lowered his eyes. "He... he's busy, I guess."
Namgyu gave a barely perceptible smile. "Or maybe he doesn't need to. Thanos is like that. He helps when it amuses him. Or when it makes him look good. You know, like picking up a kitten from the street. Out of pity, but not genuine interest." He paused, observing Minsu's reaction. "He's always enjoyed playing the big brother. Especially with those who need it."

Minsu looked up at him uncertainly, a flicker of confusion, then hurt, crossing his gaze. He said nothing, simply rummaging more nervously in his bag.
Namgyu added nothing more. He had planted the seed. He simply nodded, as if he had shared an obvious truth, then walked away. He felt strangely...
satisfied. Not pity for Minsu, no.

But satisfied at having managed to slip in that thought, that distortion of reality. Thanos didn't deserve someone like Minsu clinging to him. It was only fair.

——-

The seed was planted. Namgyu, after delivering his little jab, observed Minsu from afar, waiting. The satisfaction he felt was a strange sensation, a mix of bitterness and justification. He kept telling himself that Thanos didn't deserve such company.

Yet, Thanos continued his habits. He was always there, noisy, friendly, clapping Minsu on the shoulder. Namgyu saw them, and his teeth ground, even if he didn't notice it himself. Frustration gnawed at him. He couldn't admit it, but it was the simplicity of their bond that exasperated him.

One afternoon in the cafeteria, Thanos was gently teasing Minsu, who had stained his shirt.
"Look at that, Minsu! You messed up again! You're incorrigible!" He laughed loudly, but still offered Minsu a napkin.
Minsu, cheeks red, mumbled apologies, taking the napkin. He seemed embarrassed, but a slight smile still tugged at his lips. A reaction Namgyu detested. Why didn't he push away that pity?

Namgyu was sitting a little further away, pretending to read a book. When Thanos stepped away for a moment to get another dish, Namgyu got up. He walked past Minsu's table, as if by chance.

"Still clumsy?" Namgyu dropped, his voice low, a simple observation.
Minsu jumped, then lowered his head. "It's fine, it happens," he murmured, avoiding Namgyu's gaze.
"Thanos finds that amusing, doesn't he?" Namgyu continued, an imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. "'Little creatures' are always fun for him to observe. Especially when they need help." He paused. "Don't you find that a bit... condescending? From someone who claims to be your friend."
Minsu looked up. His eyes, usually timid, showed a mix of surprise and defensiveness. "No, Thanos is kind! He always helps me."

"Of course," Namgyu replied in a sickly sweet tone. "But we help the weak, don't we? Those who can't manage on their own. It gives a nice feeling of superiority." He looked directly into Minsu's eyes, his own gaze cold and sharp. "Don't misunderstand his intentions, Minsu. Some people aren't as selfless as they seem."

Namgyu didn't give Minsu time to reply. He continued on his way, leaving Minsu there, face pale, the stained napkin still in his hand. There was nothing more to say. He had just added another layer of doubt. It was for Thanos, he thought, to protect him from himself, and from that dead weight that was Minsu. Namgyu's frustration fed on these small victories.

———

The day had dragged on, heavy with unspoken words and Namgyu's growing tension. After classes, he met Thanos at their usual spot behind the gym, a discreet corner where the scent of tobacco clung to the walls. Thanos pulled out a cigarette, lit it with a nonchalant movement, and offered the pack to Namgyu. He refused with a wave of his hand.

"You haven't been relaxing much lately," Thanos remarked, a puff of smoke escaping his lips. His tone was light, casual. "Still got that killer look."
Namgyu raised an eyebrow. "I am who I am. Does it bother you?"

Thanos chuckled softly. "No, quite the opposite. It's a change of pace for me. It's just... you seem more on edge. Especially when Minsu's around."
Minsu's name hit Namgyu like an electric shock. Namgyu stiffened, but his face betrayed nothing. "He has nothing to do with this."

Thanos took another drag, his piercing gaze settling on Namgyu. The amused smile on his lips grew more pronounced. "You know... just between us..." He paused, his eyes fixed on his friend's. "You can tell me. Seriously, I don't mind." He gestured with his chin towards where Minsu usually passed. "Little Minsu, you look at him like you're going to eat him, bro."

That was it. Namgyu's control shattered. His mask of indifference cracked, revealing a suppressed fury. "What the hell are you talking about?!" His voice was louder than he intended, harsh, almost a contained roar. "That's bullshit! That... that Minsu is just a pathetic piece of shit! Why the hell would I look at him?! He's a loser, a dead weight, a guy who can't even stand on his own two feet!"

He gesticulated, rage overwhelming him, betraying emotions he had been striving to hide for weeks. "I look at him because he's a nuisance! Because he's weak, because he clings to others! And because he's incapable of anything on his own! It's ridiculous! It's pathetic!" He searched for his words, spitting out his fury; his defense was relentless.

Thanos listened unblinkingly, his amused gaze never leaving Namgyu. He continued to smoke calmly, a satisfied smile stretching his lips. He said nothing, content to let Namgyu grapple with his own rage, knowing full well what he had just unearthed.

———

The days stretched on, a haunting repetition of the same dynamics. Namgyu, despite his outburst of anger in front of Thanos, hadn't changed his outward behavior. He continued to hang out with his friend, the mask of indifference perfectly in place once more. But inside, frustration and silent hatred continued to simmer.

One afternoon, Namgyu was chatting with Gyeong-su. Semi was by his side, the latter joining in simply because Gyeong-su was there. Two other classmates, and a few guys he barely knew, were also present. The conversation was mundane—high school gossip, complaints about teachers. Namgyu, half-attentive, responded occasionally with a detached tone.

Then, he saw them. In the distance, heading toward them, was Thanos. And by his side, Minsu.

Namgyu stopped dead mid-sentence. His gaze fixed on Thanos with an icy intensity he didn't bother to hide. He felt his muscles tense.

Thanos approached, a brilliant smile on his face, as if he hadn't noticed the change in atmosphere. He placed a friendly hand on Minsu's shoulder. Minsu seemed more awkward than ever, his eyes fixed on the ground. Minsu had, of course, let himself be led, unable to refuse Thanos's persistence.

Thanos gestured toward Minsu, his smile widening. "Little Minsu was too scared to come back to the group with you, Namgyu!" He laughed, patting Minsu on the back. "You won't bother him this time, promise?"

Namgyu's stomach twisted. Thanos's words hit him hard. In front of others, he couldn't explode. He couldn't unleash his fury without appearing suspicious, without betraying what he strove to hide. His pride choked him.

He said nothing. His eyes moved from Minsu back to Thanos. He gave a cold, barely perceptible nod. It was his only response.

Beside him, Semi, always observant, missed nothing. She was on alert, ready to defend Minsu if Namgyu dared to say anything stinging again. She saw the tension in Namgyu's shoulders, the slight clenching of his jaw. And above all, in his gaze, she detected a silent approval when Namgyu remained silent, his teeth clenched, trapped in his own fury.

————

The days following the veiled confrontation with Thanos were marked by a heavy silence. Namgyu, having been cornered, changed tactics. He no longer sought to plant insidious doubts, nor even to observe Minsu with the same intensity. Instead, he subjected him to total ignorance.

Minsu could pass by him in the hallway, and Namgyu wouldn't bat an eye. If they crossed paths in the cafeteria, his gaze would slide past Minsu, as if he were invisible. He no longer said a word, no longer cast a glance. His presence was now that of an ice statue: cold and unyielding.

It wasn't acerbity, not overt hatred. It was far worse. It was a void, an erasure. Minsu simply no longer existed in Namgyu's universe. When Thanos tried to bring Minsu into their sphere, Namgyu responded with only a distracted nod or a brief "Mmh" before changing the subject, his eyes elsewhere. There was no longer any frowning, no clenched jaw. Just an impenetrable wall.

This indifference was a new, more subtle form of torture. It was calculated, a way to deny Minsu's existence, to relegate him to his status of insignificance. For Namgyu, it was a way to regain control, to prove, first and foremost to himself, that Minsu didn't affect him. Ignorance was his weapon, and he wielded it with surgical precision, convinced he had finally extinguished the flame of that persistent frustration.

————
Namgyu's ignorance towards Minsu remained unwavering. Days passed, confirming this new strategy. He had erected an invisible wall, and Minsu seemed to be feeling its effects.

In the cafeteria, Minsu sometime hesitated to approach the table where Namgyu and Thanos sat. In the hallways, he would alter his trajectory, like a fly avoiding a web. Namgyu felt it. He saw it. But he didn't react, maintaining his impassive face and cold eyes.

Thanos, for his part, noticed nothing out of the ordinary, too absorbed in his own exuberance. He continued to call out to Minsu occasionally, to clap him on the back. And Namgyu, at those moments, continued to employ his indifference, looking away, immersing himself in his phone or a conversation with someone else. He showed neither anger nor annoyance. Just a void.

This new routine was exhausting. Maintaining this facade of complete disinterest required constant energy. Every time Minsu was nearby, Namgyu had to force himself not to react, not to look, to let nothing show. He felt tense, a constant knot in his stomach.

———
Namgyu's indifference held firm, a cold shield he wore relentlessly. He'd become an expert in the art of avoidance, of non-reaction. But life, sometimes, has its own plans.

One day, in a crowded hallway during rush hour, an unexpected jostle occurred. A hurried student bumped directly into Minsu. Minsu, as usual, lost his balance, his books slipping from his arms, his body tipping backward. He was about to fall heavily.

Namgyu, who happened to be passing by, was the closest. Without thinking, without even a second of conscious hesitation, he reached out. Not a gentle hand, no. A firm, almost brutal grip on the back collar of Minsu's sweater. He pulled him back with a sharp tug, stabilizing him with unexpected force.
Minsu, eyes wide with surprise and embarrassment, found himself upright, his body a little shaken.

Namgyu didn't immediately let go. His gaze was intense, piercing, and for the first time in days, a hint of pure, undisguised annoyance crossed his face. His voice, low and hoarse, carried an acerbity he hadn't allowed to show in a long time.

"Watch where you're putting your damn feet, Minsu," he spat, a cold, unequivocal warning. "You're not the only one in this hallway."

He released Minsu's collar as abruptly as he had grabbed it. Minsu's books were still scattered, but he was standing. Namgyu didn't linger. His face immediately reverted to an icy facade.

He picked up nothing, said nothing more. He simply stared at Minsu for a moment, then turned on his heel and continued on his way, blending into the crowd without a backward glance. Silence fell upon him again, thick, as if the incident had never happened.

———-
The night had fallen, heavy and humid. Namgyu and Thanos leaned against a wall, a little apart from the impromptu party raging a few streets away.

The air was thick with muffled music and distant laughter. They had been drinking. Not to the point of being dead drunk, but enough for the usual barriers to begin to crumble, for words to slip out more easily.

Thanos, beer in hand, chuckled softly. "You know, Namgyu," he began, his gaze a little glassy but still piercing. "Little Minsu... he's funny, right? He's so... pliable." He took a swig, a smirk playing on his lips. "The other day, I made him believe he had to massage my shoulders for me to give him my notes. The idiot almost did it! His face, you should have seen his face!"

Namgyu, his body tense, sipped his own beer, his gaze fixed on nothing. He felt anger rising, an unpleasant heat in his chest. "That's stupid," he muttered.
"Stupid?" Thanos repeated, undisguised amusement in his voice. "No way! That's what's funny about him. He's so innocent. So... gullible. You can make him do anything." He moved a little closer, his tone becoming lower, more provocative.

. "You know, he even came to see me the other day. He looked a bit strange. He asked me if... well, if I really found him... cute. As if someone had put that idea in his head." Thanos raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. "I told him yes, of course. That he was my little toy. My little pleasure."

A crack was heard. The glass in Namgyu's hand subtly fractured under the pressure of his fingers. He didn't notice.
His eyes, usually so cold, burned with a contained fury.
Every word from Thanos was a hammer blow to his already strained patience. The "little toy," the "little pleasure"... that's what it was, that abject familiarity. But hearing it from Thanos's mouth, with that mocking nonchalance, drove him mad.
"You're talking nonsense," Namgyu spat, his voice hoarse, almost inaudible at first.

Thanos laughed. "Oh, but I'm telling the truth, buddy. Little Minsu... he's so easy to make blush. He'd do anything to get attention. That's what's great. You can make him dance however you want." He made a hand gesture, as if pulling invisible strings. "And he's so grateful. It's almost... tempting."

That was the last straw. Namgyu's restraint shattered. In a flash, he grabbed Thanos's collar, pulling him forward with incredible force. Thanos's head hit the wall behind him with a dull thud.

"Shut your mouth, Thanos!" Namgyu roared, his face contorted with rage, his eyes bloodshot. "Stop talking to me about that son of a bitch! About his damn face! You think it's funny, huh?! You think it's a game, you asshole?!" He clenched Thanos's collar so hard that his knuckles turned white.

Thanos, pinned against the wall, raised his hands in the air, an even wider smile stretching his lips. There wasn't the slightest trace of fear in his gaze, only deep amusement. "Calm down, bro," he said, his voice surprisingly composed despite the situation. "It's fine. I get it. You're really on edge, aren't you?" His smile was almost triumphant.

Namgyu abruptly released Thanos's collar. He looked at him in silence, his dark eyes burning with fury as he bit his lips, as if to hold back a flood of even more violent words.

He let out a low growl, then bent down to pick up his beer that had rolled onto the ground. Without another word, he turned away, the can in hand. "I'm going to piss," he mumbled, walking heavily and furiously into the darkness.

———
The same night, heavy with the weight of words and actions, Namgyu lay in bed, eyes fixed on the dark ceiling, reliving the scene with Thanos.

That jerk must have been provoking him, it was obvious. Pushing his limits, amusing himself with his reaction. But beyond the rage, beyond the humiliation of losing control, something else had awakened within him.

Something he had contained, vehemently denied, but which, that night, refused to be locked away any longer. A bitter, burning truth began to assert itself.

No, he didn't hate Minsu because he was weak. The rage he had felt, the intensity of his reaction... It wasn't simple irritation. It was a raw, twisted passion, a hatred that had fed on something far deeper and more terrifying. Something he couldn't name, a perverse attraction he masked beneath visceral disgust.

In the following days, Namgyu's facade of cold indifference cracked in places, revealing a new intensity. He was still as repressed, as seemingly hateful, but his interactions with Minsu became more direct, more tense, charged with a dark passion he struggled to contain.

———
The atmosphere around Minsu shifted. Namgyu's coldness was no longer simple avoidance, but a palpable presence, a silent threat.

One afternoon, Minsu dropped a pile of papers in front of his locker. Namgyu, passing by, didn't slow down. He didn't catch him. Instead, he stopped right beside him, his shadow looming over the scattered papers. Minsu crouched to pick them up, his face flushed.

"Still useless," Namgyu let out, his voice low, devoid of all emotion, but each syllable was like a sharp blow. He wasn't really looking at him, his gaze was elsewhere, above Minsu's head, but his words were precisely planted.
Minsu stopped moving, his hands freezing above the papers. He dared to look up at Namgyu, his pupils dilated with fear or incomprehension.

Namgyu lowered his head slightly, his eyes finally meeting Minsu's. Namgyu's gaze was chillingly intense, a mix of contempt and something else, something darker, that took one's breath away. It was a raw force, a knife-edge tension. "You are a nuisance, Minsu. A constant one." There was no visible anger, but a certainty that made him terrifying.

He then straightened up, leaving Minsu alone amidst his papers, breathless. Namgyu continued on his way, his stride impassive. But inside, the pressure was unbearable.

This intense hatred, this repressed passion, simmered, threatening to tear apart his self-control. He had been direct, more than ever. And that, strangely, was more satisfying, and more terrifying, than all his previous attempts.

———

The days stretched on, a slow poison seeping into the interactions between Namgyu and Minsu.
Namgyu's repressed anger now manifested in sharp, precise gestures and words, leaving Minsu increasingly distraught.

One morning, at the library, Minsu was alone, bent over books. He had dropped a pen, which rolled near the foot of Namgyu's chair. Namgyu, who was studying at the next table, noticed it. Instead of ignoring it, he leaned down. Without a word, he pushed the pen with the tip of his shoe, sending it rolling further under a shelf.

Minsu looked up, surprised, his cheeks turning scarlet. He understood.
Namgyu raised his head, his gaze settling on Minsu.

It was no longer coldness, but an intensity that burned, a kind of contained hatred that made the air unbreathable. "Are you always so distracted? Or just... incompetent?" His voice was low, a whisper that echoed like a whip in the silence of the library. He didn't wait for a reply, returning to his books, his face once again impassive.
But under the table, his fingers clenched the book, knuckles white.

In the afternoon, another scene unfolded in the hallways. Minsu often stumbled, and Namgyu was there. He didn't catch him. No. This time, he stepped aside, just enough for Minsu to nearly sprawl on the floor, catching himself just in time on a locker.

"Be careful," Namgyu said, his voice barely audible, but laden with biting irony. "It would be a shame if you got hurt. Who would help you then?" His gaze slid from Minsu to the wall behind him, then returned with a chilling intensity. "You always need someone to catch you, don't you? Pathetic."

Minsu said nothing, breathless, staring at Namgyu with wide eyes, a mix of fear and humiliation. The tension between them had become so dense it seemed to vibrate. Namgyu, for his part, seemed unaffected.

He continued on his way, looking detached, but every fiber of his being was taut. The repressed passion, the dark hatred, burned.

———

The days passed, heavy with the new atmosphere Namgyu wove around Minsu. The tension was constant; Namgyu's cold, precise hatred didn't let up. And amidst this toxic dynamic, an absence began to make itself felt: that of Thanos.

Strangely, ever since the night of the alcohol-fueled altercation, when Namgyu had snapped under Thanos's provocations, Thanos had gradually faded from Minsu's orbit. He remained close to Namgyu, yes, but like at the very beginning.
Not like when there had been a sudden closeness. He was no longer there to pick Minsu up after class, nor to laugh loudly with him in the cafeteria. The friendly pats on the shoulder had become rare, and so had everything else.

Namgyu noticed it, of course. He noticed the absence of Thanos's familiar shadow beside Minsu. He said nothing, asked Thanos no questions when they hung out together. And Thanos, for his part, no longer brought up Minsu. He would definitely never understand his friend. It was as if Namgyu's outburst that night had caused immediate, expected consequences from Thanos.

Namgyu would never admit it to himself, but a dull, perverse satisfaction grew within him. The space was free.

His behavior toward Minsu, however, did not soften. On the contrary. Thanos's absence seemed to unleash a new layer of fury in Namgyu, a certainty that Minsu was now entirely at his mercy. He became bolder in his provocations.
One afternoon, Minsu left his class, headphones on.
Namgyu was waiting for him, leaning against the wall a little further away. When Minsu passed, Namgyu stuck out his foot, just a bit too late for Minsu to truly trip, but enough to make him stumble, forcing him into an awkward movement to regain his balance.

Minsu removed his headphones, his gaze uncertain. "Namgyu...?"

"Watch out," Namgyu said, his voice a barely audible hiss, yet carrying an insane intensity. His dark eyes fixed on Minsu, without a hint of pity. "The world isn't made for clumsy people. And no one will always be there to catch you."

He left the sentence hanging, heavy with insinuation, and continued on his way without another word, leaving Minsu there, alone, visibly shaken.

The hatred Namgyu projected was almost palpable, an invisible force that gnawed at him as much as it hurt Minsu.

———-

MinSu stared at his phone, Semi's message glowing on the screen.

"Gyeong Su is having a party tonight, come! It'd do you good to get out a bit."
"Out." The word felt foreign on his tongue, an almost forgotten concept. He knew perfectly well who would be there. Namgyu.

The very thought sent a cold wave down his spine, yet, strangely, it was followed by a jolt of adrenaline, an almost intoxicating rush.

A part of him, whether consciously or not, was intrigued, drawn by the idea of crossing paths with him. After all, he had every right to live a little, didn't he? To breathe an air different from his usual solitude.

The decision was made with a sigh. Yes, he'd go.

When he arrived at Gyeong Su place, the music was already thumping, the bass vibrating through the walls. MinSu immediately felt swallowed by the crowd and the noise. He clung to Semi like a lifeline, his usual shyness catching up to him.

Semi, always so outgoing, laughed and chatted with a friend, pulling MinSu into their conversation, even though he only listened, a forced smile on his lips. He tried to focus on their words, on the bright lights, anything to distract himself from the growing knot in his stomach.

The air was thick with the smell of cheap perfume, sweat, and something vaguely alcoholic, a potent cocktail that made his head spin slightly. He subtly scanned the room, his eyes darting through the shifting bodies, a nervous habit he couldn't break.

MinSu, absorbed in Semi and her friend's chatter, suddenly felt a heavy weight on him, an intense gaze cutting across the room.

A shiver ran down his spine. Slowly, cautiously, he turned his head, his eyes sweeping through the crowd, searching for the source of this growing unease.

And then, his eyes met Namgyu's.

he spotted him.

Standing at the far end of the living room, leaning against a wall, surrounded by Thanos, Gyeong-su, and their usual crew.

The aura he exuded was, as always, a mix of casual arrogance and raw, undeniable power. his heart hammering against his ribs. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, despite the cool air conditioning.

Time stretched. Ten seconds. An eternity. Namgyu's gaze was a silent detonation. There was no seduction, no tenderness. It was raw, intense, a complex mix of disdain and... something else, an indefinable force that made MinSu profoundly uncomfortable.

Every fiber of his being reacted to this silent confrontation, his heart pounding like a drum against his ribs. It was hatred, or at least, that's what MinSu forced himself to believe, what Namgyu himself would probably have claimed.

He could feel the blood rushing to his ears, making the music sound distant and muffled. The sheer intensity of Namgyu's stare felt like a physical assault, stripping away his composure layer by layer. He wanted to look away, to break the connection, but he felt rooted to the spot, caught in an invisible current.

The tension was finally broken by Thanos's voice, who clapped Namgyu on the shoulder: "Bro, are you even listening to us?"

Namgyu looked away first, a micro-instant too late. MinSu did the same, his eyes falling to the floor, his cheeks burning. The air around him seemed to have thickened, the memory of that eye contact burned onto his retina. He tried to take a shaky breath, to steady himself, but his lungs felt tight.

The night had only just begun, and the weight of that single, powerful glance already felt immense. He knew, deep down, that despite the fear and the discomfort, a part of him had sought out that confrontation, drawn by the dangerous magnetic pull between them. It wasn't about love, not even close, but a twisted, potent connection forged in mutual antagonism

……

The kitchen was bathed in dim light, the distant hum of the party in the living room filtering through the wall.

Minsu had sought refuge there, pressed against the cold counter, hoping the shadows would swallow him, protecting him from the constant din.

And especially from Namgyu's icy gaze.

Or rather, his burning gaze.

He should never have accepted the invitation to this party. Especially after catching Namgyu's eye earlier, a flash of icy disdain that had pierced him. A look that said: you are nothing, and yet, Namgyu couldn't look away.

The kitchen door opened softly.

Namgyu entered, looking nonchalant, as if searching for a drink.

Minsu knew it.

Namgyu knew it.

Their eyes met for a moment, a silent spark, before Namgyu turned to the fridge, shuffling his feet, pretending to ignore Minsu.

"What are you doing here?" Namgyu's voice was drawling, almost disinterested, but the tone said something else. He turned slowly, a pack of beers in his hand, his gaze settling on Minsu with an almost contemptuous coldness. "You're too good for the living room, is that it? Or too scared to show yourself?"

Minsu swallowed, his heart pounding against his ribs. He didn't answer, staring at Namgyu with that terrified yet fascinated glint. Adrenaline pulsed, his body tensed, both paralyzed and ready to flee.

Namgyu took a step, then another, his movements slow and deliberate, closing the distance between them. There was no longer any nonchalance in his eyes, only that dangerous fixity.

He raised a hand, and Minsu barely flinched before Namgyu's fingers closed around his neck. Not a brutal pinch, but a firm embrace, his thumb pressing his carotid, feeling the frantic beat of his blood. It was an embrace that asserted a right, a tacit possession, disguised as a simple confrontation.

Namgyu tilted his head, his eyes narrowed, plunging into Minsu's. He was there, captive under his gaze, his breath short

"I asked you a question,"

Namgyu murmured, his voice barely audible, a whisper filled with repressed hatred and contained fury

"Do you really think you can intrude like a pathetic piece of shit at my friend's place? What do you hope for...?" he clenched his teeth, "...that someone notices your insignificant, shitty little self?..."

His body moved closer, his breath hot on Minsu's face, who could no longer breathe normally. "You're nothing, Minsu. Nothing at all—" he pressed even harder. The next sentence seemed to be blocked by the piercing eyes of the viper in front of him.

And then,

"You attract no one. No one at all."

Minsu nodded, his lips trembling, a faint sound caught in his throat.
Namgyu's thumb pressed harder on his neck, a pressure that threatened to cut off his oxygen. His other hand clenched into a fist at his side, his knuckles white. He bit his lower lip, his gaze fixed on Minsu.

Then, with a brutal gesture, Namgyu released his grip. He pushed Minsu against the counter with a dry force, before stepping back a few paces.

His gaze remained fixed on Minsu, tinged with a cold hatred and obvious contempt, but also a dangerous satisfaction that made him dizzy.

He opened the beer can he held, took a long swig, without taking his eyes off Minsu. Finally, he abruptly turned his back, leaving Minsu alone, trembling, in the silence of the kitchen, and returned to the din of the living room.

……….

The party's din pounded against the walls of the large apartment, mixing with bursts of laughter and the sweet scent of alcohol and sweat. Thanos, a drink in hand, navigated with his usual ease. He had seen Namgyu leave earlier, jaw clenched, a fierce look in his eyes that hadn't escaped anyone's notice. "I'm out of here," Namgyu had simply grumbled. Thanos knew the night was over for him.

Seeking a moment of respite, Thanos decided to wash his hands in the downstairs bathroom. He opened the door, and the party's clamor faded, replaced by the cool silence of the room.

And there, Minsu.

He was sitting at the bottom of the large, empty bathtub, curled up, arms wrapped around his knees. His eyes were fixed on his phone, its dim light illuminating his tired face. He looked so small, so... lost in that immaculate space.

Thanos gently closed the door behind him, the click muffled. Minsu startled, his phone nearly slipping from his hands. His eyes widened, a mix of surprise and apprehension crossing his face.

"What are you doing here?" Thanos asked, his voice calm, almost neutral. He walked towards the sink, turning on the water.

Minsu swallowed, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. "Just... needed a break."

Thanos rinsed his hands, without taking his eyes off him. A long silence settled, broken only by the trickle of water and the distant hum of music. Thanos turned off the faucet.

"You look exhausted," Thanos murmured, his voice barely softening. He dried his hands. Then, he leaned over the edge of the bathtub, towering over Minsu. His keen, curious eyes scrutinized him. "Tough night?"
Minsu closed his eyes for a moment, a wrinkle of weariness creasing his forehead. "A little."

A new silence, shorter but heavy with tension, settled.
"How are you getting home?" Thanos finally asked, his tone changing slightly, a hint of new curiosity.
Minsu swallowed. "Semi dropped me off." He looked at the door, as if seeking an escape.

Thanos chuckled softly, a sound that echoed in the small room. "I see. In that case... Do you want me to give you a ride?" His smile was engaging, his eyes bright with a new curiosity.

Minsu hesitated, looking at the door, then at Thanos. The idea of leaving the chaos of the party was tempting. "I... yes, okay."

They navigated through the crowd, Minsu following Thanos like a silent shadow.

The car was a relief. The silence, once the engine started, was heavy with palpable tension. Thanos cast discreet glances at Minsu, who stared straight ahead, his features drawn. Minsu felt those gazes, that subtle but persistent presence beside him. The drive was short but charged, the headlights of passing cars sweeping across the interior of the car, fleetingly revealing Thanos's pensive expression and Minsu's weary face. Every kilometer brought them closer to home, but also to an uncertain conclusion.

When Thanos parked the car in front of Minsu's apartment building, the darkness of the night enveloped the scene. The engine turned off, plunging the interior into a deep silence, barely disturbed by the distant city sounds. Minsu unbuckled, ready to escape. A tense silence settled, heavier than ever.

Thanos leaned over, his movement slow and deliberate. He saw surprise, then apprehension, in Minsu's eyes. But Minsu didn't flinch away. He remained still, almost anticipating.

Thanos placed a hand on Minsu's neck, his thumb gently caressing the skin beneath his ear. His dark eyes plunged into Minsu's, a silent question passing between them. There was an unexpected tenderness in his gaze, a soft promise, a burning curiosity.

Then, without another word, Thanos pressed his lips against Minsu's.

This kiss was the opposite of anything Minsu had known. It was soft, hesitant at first, then deeper, a careful exploration. Minsu felt a small gasp escape him, but he didn't resist. There was a timid acceptance, a curiosity that outweighed the fear. Thanos's lips were warm, a temporary refuge, an escape.

When Thanos pulled back, Minsu's breath was short. His eyes opened, still in shock. Thanos's face was so close, his expression complex: observation, a hint of satisfaction, and something new, indecipherable.

Minsu remained confused for a moment, eyes wide. "I... I'm going," he whispered, his voice barely audible, his gaze lost. He opened the car door, stumbled out, and hurried towards his building without looking back.

Thanos watched him disappear into the darkness. He remained still for a long moment, leaning against his car, the night's silence engulfing him. a thoughtful, complex expression on his face.

and then He restarted the car and slowly drove away.

They both never talk about this again after that.

Maybe because it was the fact that Thanos was sure from that moment on that the feelings with Minsu were ultimately not attraction but just appreciation of …

attention toward himself.

——-

The weeks had stretched on, each bringing its share of incidents, slipped words, murderous glances. Tensions were at their peak, an invisible cord stretched taut between Namgyu and Minsu. The air vibrated with a silent hostility that only Minsu seemed to fully perceive, his shyness transforming into a palpable fear.

One afternoon, the cafeteria was particularly noisy. Minsu, tray in hand, searched for a seat, looking lost amidst the crowd. He accidentally bumped into an older student, who let out a curse.
Namgyu was there. Sitting at his usual table, he watched. He didn't move, said nothing. But his gaze, like a laser beam, latched onto Minsu. It was no longer pure hatred, no. It was an intense, almost possessive fixity, heavy with a dark passion that twisted his gut.
Minsu, embarrassed, apologized profusely.

The other student bumped him again, deliberately this time, making him stumble. Minsu's tray dangerously swayed. His desperate gaze searched for invisible help.

Namgyu's eyes never left him. They gleamed with a dark light, a mixture of disgust and morbid fascination. It was the ultimate test. Would he collapse? Would he finally show his absolute weakness?

The tray finally tipped over. The contents spilled onto the tiled floor with a deafening crash. Food spread into a disgusting puddle. Laughter erupted. Minsu remained frozen, a trickle of cold sweat running down his temple.

Namgyu stood up. Slowly. All eyes turned to him. He said nothing. He approached Minsu, walking directly through the mocking laughter and the chaos on the floor. He looked neither at the food nor the crowd, only Minsu.
When he was right in front of him, Minsu's body trembled slightly. Namgyu raised his hand. Minsu closed his eyes, imperceptibly recoiling.

But Namgyu's hand did not strike. It firmly grabbed Minsu's arm, pulling him towards him with unexpected force. The grip was hard, painful. His eyes were still fixed on Minsu, burning.

"Get up," Namgyu murmured, his voice so low it was barely audible above the commotion, but it resonated with terrifying power. It was an order. Imperious. Devoid of pity.

Minsu opened his eyes, meeting that inscrutable gaze, and allowed himself to be pulled, his body stiff, his throat tight.

——-

The cafeteria was empty. The lunchtime chaos had dissipated, leaving behind only the silence of deserted tables and the lingering scent of food. Minsu remained there, standing, his arm still sore from Namgyu's grip. He hadn't dared to move, hadn't dared to pick up his overturned tray.

Namgyu, for his part, had stayed. He hadn't left. He stared at him, his dark eyes burning with an intensity that was no longer pure hatred, but an explosive mixture of rage and another emotion he refused to name.

The room seemed to shrink around them, the air thickening.

"You are... you are unbearable," Namgyu began, his voice low, a tense hiss. Each word was spat out, laden with contained fury

"You're always there, always in the way. Always bothering everyone with your damn clumsiness, your damn weakness!" He took a step toward Minsu, who instinctively recoiled

"I see you, you know? I see you dragging yourself around, letting people walk all over you, and you do nothing! Nothing! You're just... a constant irritation!"
He clenched his fists, his body trembling with rage

"You drive me crazy! You drive me crazy with your damn existence! I can't stand you! I can't see you, I can't feel you, I can't—" The words caught in his throat, replaced by a grunt of pure frustration. He was at his limit.

The pressure, accumulated for months, years, was exploding. It was Minsu's fault. His fault that he felt all this, this confusion, this rage, this attraction he couldn't name.

Minsu, his face pale, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears, looked at him, terrified. He didn't understand this fury, this verbal violence.

Namgyu took another step, cutting off any escape. His face was contorted with emotion, the muscles of his jaw clenched. He raised his hand, and Minsu recoiled, expecting a blow.
But the blow didn't come.

Instead, Namgyu's hand brutally grabbed the back of Minsu's neck, pulling him towards him. Their bodies collided. And without another word, Namgyu pressed his lips onto Minsu's.

It was a wild, unexpected kiss, an explosion of Namgyu's repressed fury and passion. There was no gentleness, just a brutal urgency, a contained violence that sought to express itself. Minsu, in shock, remained motionless, his eyes wide open.

When Namgyu pulled away, their breaths were short, their chests heaving. Their eyes met, a mixture of confusion, terror for Minsu, and a burning, almost desperate intensity for Namgyu.

And then, Namgyu pulled him in again. This time, the kiss was deeper, longer, a furious exploration, almost a punishment. He bit, tugged, pressed, as if he sought to erase Minsu, or to possess him entirely.

Hatred and passion merged in this brutal act, Namgyu's denial collapsing into a chaos of sensations.

——-

After that brutal kiss in the empty cafeteria, something had shattered, then reformed, but in a twisted way. A new dynamic had settled, twisted and obsessive.

Namgyu's hatred and emotional and sexual attraction were at their peak, mingling in a destructive whirlwind.

Now, whenever they found themselves alone, an electric tension filled the air. It had become a ritual, an unconfessable secret they shared, even if they both knew how it would end. Minsu, despite the fear and apprehension, never resisted. And Namgyu was unable to stop himself.

The pattern was always the same. Namgyu would grab Minsu, drag him somewhere out of sight—a deserted hallway, an unoccupied classroom after hours, a dark corner behind the gym. And there, he would begin.

His voice would start as an icy murmur, then rise in intensity, transforming into a hoarse scream. "You are so weak! So useless! Always complaining, always letting yourself be pushed around!" He would unleash all his frustration, all his rage, his own demons projected onto Minsu.

The words were blows, accusations, insults. "You're a goddamn nuisance! A mistake! I can't stand you anymore!" He would yell at him, his eyes burning with a dark passion, his face tense with anger and disgust. Minsu, for his part, would endure, recoiling, sometimes a whimper escaping him.

But just as the anger reached its climax, just as the tension threatened to tear them apart, Namgyu would lean in. His hands would grip Minsu's shoulders or the back of his neck, pulling him brutally close. And his lips would crash against Minsu's.

The kiss was always savage, a discharge of all that contained rage and attraction. It was possessive, demanding, without the slightest hint of tenderness.

It was both a punishment and a release. Namgyu would bite, pull hair, his hands digging into the fabric of Minsu's clothes, seeking to mark him, to consume him. And Minsu, trapped, could only endure, a mixture of fear, pain, and a confusion he couldn't unravel.

When Namgyu pulled away, there was always that heavy silence, broken only by their ragged breaths. Namgyu's eyes were still dark, full of that same indiscernible hatred and attraction. He would release him, pull away abruptly, leaving Minsu there, shaken, trying to understand this infernal cycle that had just settled between them.

——-
After that strange night where Thanos and Namgyu almost clashed, something had definitively shifted for Minsu.

At first, it was a relief. Thanos, usually so omnipresent, had gradually moved away. Fewer booming laughs, fewer slaps on the back.

An unexpected calm, almost welcome, which left a void, certainly, but also a certain tranquility.

But this tranquility was short-lived. Very quickly, Thanos's shadow was replaced by Namgyu's, even more oppressive. Namgyu, who had ignored him with such consistent coldness, was now...

different. Minsu felt his gaze, heavy, intense, fixed on him, even when Namgyu was at the other end of the room. It wasn't the usual mockery, nor even overt anger.

It was a fixity that made him uneasy, making him feel constantly watched, analyzed. A dull fear began to settle in, a constant tension that knotted his stomach, but strangely, it was accompanied by a hint of curiosity, a fascination Minsu couldn't explain.

The interactions had changed. No more public put-downs. In public, Namgyu settled for glacial politeness, barely a glance.

But Namgyu's jealousy, imperceptible to others, was a bite for Minsu.

Each time he dared to smile at a classmate, or exchange more than a few words with someone, he felt Namgyu's presence drawing closer his throat tight, trapped by a force he feared as much as it called to him.

These moments spent alone with Namgyu had become the most terrifying ordeal of his days, but also the most intense.

It was there that the true nature of this "relationship" revealed itself. Namgyu dragged him into isolated corners, empty classrooms, silent hallways. And there, the dam broke.

Namgyu's voice became sickly sweet and vicious, spitting words like blades. "You're a little attention whore, Minsu. You're nothing without someone to guide you.

You're just trash getting in the way." Insults, accusations about his weakness, about his uselessness.

Minsu felt tears welling up, his body trembling, the pain of humiliation gnawing at him.

But beneath the fear, beneath the hurt, a strange shiver ran down his spine. He didn't understand this hatred so intense, so personal, but it had a raw force that captivated him.

And then, the most unsettling moment arrived. Just when Minsu thought he was going to strike, Namgyu's hand grabbed the back of his neck.

The kiss.

Always the kiss.

Brutal, savage, without the slightest hint of tenderness. It was an assault, a domination that left him breathless. Namgyu pressed his body against Minsu's, one hand on his neck holding him firm, his other leg forcing its way between Minsu's, trapping him without escape.

The bites on his lips, the tugging of his hair... Minsu was lost. How could this hatred transform into such physical intimacy?

It was a contradiction he couldn't resolve, a mixture of fear, pain, but also, and most disturbingly, a powerful attraction that overwhelmed him.

His body responded, despite himself, despite his fear, to Namgyu's possessive fury. He felt both degraded and inexplicably desired.

Each time, it was the same. Hurtful words, violent gestures, then that feverish embrace. Quick foreplay, done in haste and rage, never finished, always interrupted.

Minsu emerged from these encounters with a sore body, his soul broken by contempt, but also haunted by the contact, by the warmth, by the sensation of Namgyu's body against his own.

He hated Namgyu for his cruelty, for the pain he inflicted.

But this violent attraction, this forced desire, imprinted a mark on him, a terrifying acceptance of this unhealthy cycle. He was a moth drawn to a flame, unable to pull away, despite the promised pain, despite the danger.

He didn't understand this force that bound him to Namgyu, but he could no longer flee. It was a twisted feeling that consumed him, a dance step he didn't know how to refuse.

———

The weeks following Namgyu's outburst at Thanos had woven a complex web, almost invisible to most, yet tangible to those who knew how to look.

The relationship between Namgyu and Minsu had taken an unspoken turn, a perverse game of hide-and-seek between denial and brutal desire. In public, the facade was maintained, but the underlying tension was a creeping serpent.

Namgyu had refined his art of concealment. In the presence of other students, their interactions were reduced to a bare minimum, tinged with a polite coldness from Namgyu.

A brief greeting, a monosyllabic reply if they were addressed together, a tacit acceptance of being in the same space without looking at each other. It was rare now to see him openly mock Minsu in front of witnesses. No, his tools had become subtler, more insidious.

However, his friends were not fooled.

Thanos, with his mocking air, was always observing.
He caught Namgyu's furtive glances when Minsu passed a little too close, the barely perceptible tension in his friend's shoulders.
Gyeong-su, less direct than Semi, also felt the air change around Namgyu as soon as Minsu appeared in his field of vision.
And Semi, she saw everything. The way Namgyu's eyes could suddenly turn icy, the rigidity of his body when Minsu laughed with someone else.

All three undoubtedly suspected the existence of an abnormal dynamic, a jealousy that seeped through despite Namgyu's efforts to contain it.

His public actions towards Minsu had softened in appearance, but the truth was revealed in the silence, in the intensity of his observations.

For Namgyu had become a voracious observer. He followed Minsu with his gaze across the cafeteria, in the hallways, his jealousy intensifying with each interaction Minsu had with others. When Minsu spoke a little too long to a classmate, when a friend joked while placing a hand on his shoulder, a dull fury awakened in Namgyu.

He then resorted to a discreet but effective approach. He would appear behind Minsu, his gaze cold and sharp. A hand would then rest on Minsu's shoulder, a contact that, though public, was heavy with unspoken meaning, a silent affirmation of possession.

"Come," Namgyu would say in a low, emotionless voice, but each syllable carried the weight of an undeniable order. "Semi wants to tell you something." Or: "The science teacher is looking for you."

Trivial pretexts, uttered with disconcerting naturalness, but which pulled Minsu away from any other interaction, isolating him.

Minsu, intimidated, would let himself be led, his attempts at resistance always futile.

It was in these moments, when they were alone, cut off from the outside world, that their true "relationship" unleashed itself. It was their moment of love—a twisted, violent love, born of the hatred and contempt Namgyu felt, mixed with an undeniable and terrifying attraction he still refused to admit.

The pattern was immutable, predictable for Minsu, inevitable for Namgyu. Namgyu would drag Minsu to a secluded spot: an empty classroom, a dark corner of the gym, or even the deserted restrooms. And there, the surge would begin.

Namgyu would pin him against the wall, bodies almost touching, and his voice, sickly sweet and vicious, would pour out. "You're a little attention whore, Minsu. You're nothing without someone to guide you. You're just trash getting in the way."

He would spit his insults, his silent public rage exploding into hurtful words, meant to belittle, to break. Each word was a manifestation of his own frustration, of what Minsu made him feel despite himself.

And just as the tension reached its peak, where the words had stripped Minsu of all dignity, Namgyu would lean in. He would grab the back of his neck with a possessive hand, his other leg forcing its way between Minsu's thighs, trapping him.

Their breaths would quicken.
Then came the kiss. Always savage, always brutal, an electric discharge of anger and desire. Namgyu sought not tenderness, but submission, possession.

He would bite his lips, pull his skin, his hands gripping Minsu's clothes, roughing him up. It was a forced exploration, done in haste and violence, unspoken foreplay that never truly ended.
They were interrupted by the fear of being discovered, or by Namgyu's own disgust for what he was doing, for what he was feeling.

Their bodies were on fire, but the desire was never satisfied, always tinged with that tenacious hatred and deep contempt.

It was their dance. An infernal cycle where hatred fueled desire, and desire rekindled hatred, binding them in a dark and destructive spiral.

But on that particular day, things were going to be different.

—————
The day had been torment for Namgyu. A dull rage simmered beneath his skin, fueled by an image burned into his mind:

Minsu, a slight smile on his lips, exchanging a few words.
But it was not with gyeong su, semi, or even thanos …

It was with another student.

A simple interaction, innocuous to anyone else, but it had ignited a possessive, devouring fury in Namgyu. He couldn't stand that scrap of attention, that ounce of tenderness offered to anyone else.

The wait had made Namgyu more tense than ever. He found Minsu alone after the last classes, near the lockers. The pattern immediately activated. Namgyu grabbed him by the arm, pulling him roughly into the deserted hallway leading to the old storage rooms.

"So, we have friends now, Minsu?" Namgyu's voice was sickly sweet, almost a whisper, but each syllable was imbued with a chilling viciousness. He pinned him against the wall, his dark eyes fixed on Minsu's frightened face.

"You think that makes you interesting, little thing? That someone will finally notice you?" His thumb caressed Minsu's jaw, a falsely tender gesture masking a threat.

Namgyu moved closer, his body pressed against Minsu's. "You're so pathetic. Always clinging, begging for a little attention. That's what you like, huh? Being a dog that follows anyone who throws you a crumb."

His words were poisoned arrows, launched with terrifying calm

"You're so easy to read. So... transparent. A true nullity." There was no shout, just that low voice, full of unfathomable contempt.

Minsu closed his eyes, holding back a whimper, his body trembling under Namgyu's words.

But the mocking tone twisted. Namgyu's hand slipped to the nape of Minsu's neck, his fingers clutching his hair, pulling him. Namgyu's other hand pressed against the wall, a leg sneaking between Minsu's thighs, trapping him even further. And his lips crashed onto Minsu's.

The kiss was savage, brutal, an explosion of Namgyu's repressed fury and passion.

It was possessive, demanding, without the slightest hint of tenderness. It was both a punishment and a release. Namgyu bit, pulled hair, his hands digging into the fabric of Minsu's clothes, seeking to mark him, to consume him, to erase all other presence.

Their bodies were pressed against each other, the palpable sexual tension mingling with the emotional violence.

As Namgyu pulled away, breathless, the end-of-day bell rang, echoing through the empty hallways, tearing through the heavy silence.

Their eyes met. In Namgyu's gaze, beyond the rage, there was a dark, insane promise.

"𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮"

……..

The air in Namgyu's room was thick, saturated with the smell of sex, sweat, and palpable tension.

Minsu sat on his knees, facing him, his body already heavy with exhaustion, while Namgyu's, firmer despite his leanness, enveloped him. The movement didn't come from Minsu. It was Namgyu who controlled him entirely, his powerful body arched, delivering frenzied hip thrusts, devouring the space between them.

Namgyu's arms were wrapped around Minsu's waist, squeezing him, pressing his plump body against his own with a possessive force. Minsu, panting, was merely an extension of this savage rhythm, his own body swayed by the power of Namgyu's thrusts. His hands clawed at Namgyu's shoulders, moving up into his hair, then down again, in a desperate motion dictated by the shock of each impact.

Namgyu had his head buried in the crook of Minsu's neck. He wasn't kissing, but his parted lips panted against the moist skin, the friction adding to the already burning intensity.

Minsu, meanwhile, emitted small muffled sounds, long, hoarse whimpers that he desperately tried to suppress. Every effort to stifle these sounds only fueled Namgyu's fury further, driving him to continue with increased brutality.

Namgyu's hip thrusts redoubled in intensity, tearing stronger, more liberated groans from Minsu despite himself. In his overflowing excitement and hyper-possessive embrace,
Namgyu tilted Minsu backward, deepening his thrusts even further.

Minsu clung to him with renewed strength, his fingers digging into Namgyu's shoulders.
Namgyu, in return, squeezed him even tighter, his own claws digging into

Minsu's soft flesh, marking his body as his property.

Minsu's breath grew shorter and shorter, strangled gasps escaping his throat.

Namgyu's movements lifted him, dropped him, Minsu's body nothing more than a puppet subject to the other's imperious motions.

His hands desperately clung to Namgyu's slender shoulders, his nails tracing furrows in the taut skin. Each thrust was a hammer blow striking deep within him, pushing him to the limits of what he could bear.

"N-Nam... Namgyu..."

Minsu's voice was a mere thread, a barely audible plea lost in frantic gasps.

He tried to form the name, to find an anchor, a human connection in this storm of sensations. But Namgyu didn't answer.

His head remained buried in Minsu's neck, his parted lips pressed against the moist skin, never releasing the pressure, never the rhythm.

Minsu's body would involuntarily arch with each thrust, a purely physical reaction, independent of his will. He was nothing more than an extension of Namgyu's movements, a receptacle for the possessive fury that animated the latter.

Then, just as Minsu thought he could no longer breathe, Namgyu slowly lifted his head, his own heavy, hoarse gasps filling the room's humid silence.

His gaze, burning and dark, settled on Minsu's. There was no gentleness, no tenderness, just a devouring intensity, a primitive hunger. A hunger that demanded all of Minsu's love and attention. Without a word, Namgyu leaned in and kissed him.

The kiss was brutal, possessive, a taking of possession more than a mark of affection.

Namgyu's lips crushed Minsu's, his tongue invading his mouth with undeniable authority.

Minsu groaned against him, the sound muffled by the kiss, while still enduring Namgyu's incessant thrusts, which did not diminish. His hands slid from Namgyu's shoulders to cling to his neck, his body shaken by uncontrollable shivers.

There was no escape, no respite. Only Namgyu, his warm breath on his skin, his hands tight on his waist, his body pressed against Minsu's in a wild and utterly unequal dance.

Minsu was caught, entirely caught, body and soul, in Namgyu's relentless grip.

The kiss finally broke, leaving Minsu panting, his breath short and ragged.

His lips were swollen, his face flushed, and his body trembled uncontrollably against Namgyu's. He leaned forward, his forehead pressing against Namgyu's, the contact moist and warm.

Small sounds escaped his throat, barely audible whimpers as he tried to catch his breath, his body hyperventilating.
Namgyu, slightly hunched beneath him, looked up. His gaze, dark and intense, was fixed on Minsu.

It was a possessive look, a devouring flame that left no doubt about the ownership he claimed. And strangely, for Minsu, in this chaos of sensations, in this total loss of control, that look brought him a perverse pleasure, a twisted satisfaction.

It was his Namgyu, and he was his.

Namgyu's thrusts became deeper, longer, walking a razor's edge. Minsu felt an unbearable tension building within him, a burning knot pulling him towards the brink. He groaned, a long whimper that transformed into a muffled cry as his body tensed, his muscles knotting.

Namgyu felt the spasm ripple through Minsu's body.
With a low growl, he withdrew a hand from Minsu's waist and slipped it between their bodies, his fingers wrapping around Minsu's hard erection. He began to stroke him, a slow and deliberate movement at first, then faster and faster, mirroring the rhythm of his own thrusts.

Minsu groaned again, the sound raw and desperate. The double assault was too much, a sensory overload that overwhelmed him. His hips involuntarily lifted, seeking more friction, more of that exquisite pain.
His eyes rolled back, and a cry of pure, uncontrollable pleasure escaped his throat as his body convulsed, emptying itself against Namgyu.

Almost simultaneously, Namgyu tensed, a guttural roar escaping his own throat as he emptied himself deep within Minsu.

His arms tightened, squeezing him so hard that Minsu felt his ribs complain.

Their bodies, sweaty and trembling, remained pressed against each other for a moment, their gasping breaths filling the room.

Namgyu slowly loosened his embrace, but didn't move.

His head still rested on Minsu's shoulder, his lips parted against his skin. Minsu, his body still shaking with post-orgasmic shivers, felt Namgyu's frantic heartbeats against his chest. He was exhausted, drained, but a strange satisfaction, dark and dangerous, washed over him.

Namgyu remained against Minsu for a moment, the weight of their intertwined bodies, their breathing still heavy. He began to place sloppy, but surprisingly softer, kisses on Minsu's damp temple, then along his jawline.

Minsu, exhausted, his gaze lost in the void, didn't move, but he felt Namgyu's embrace still present, possessive, but now tinged with a new, almost comforting gentleness.

The fury had subsided, giving way to an embrace that, despite its firmness, was more tender.

Namgyu slowly pulled back, but they continued to catch their breath against each other in silence for about five minutes.

Then, with a fluid movement, Namgyu slipped an arm around Minsu's waist and effortlessly pulled him along, guiding him to the small adjoining bathroom.

Minsu's body was pliant, completely surrendering to Namgyu, who held him firmly, pressing him close as they stepped under the warm spray of the shower.

Minsu found himself with his back to Namgyu, his body exposed to the water that began to rinse away the sweat and remnants of their passionate embrace. In the silence of the shower, Namgyu ran his hands over Minsu's shoulders, gently rinsing him, his fingers gliding along his skin.

It was a thoughtful, almost protective gesture, contrasting with the intensity of the preceding minutes. Steam filled the room, creating an intimate and soothing atmosphere.

When the water began to cool, Namgyu turned off the faucet.

Silence returned, heavier this time. He leaned in and placed a light kiss on the nape of Minsu's neck,

a simple gesture filled with the silent possessiveness that defined their relationship.

Then, he gently slid a hand to Minsu's neck, his lean torso pressing against the smaller boy's back.

Namgyu slowly lowered his head, Minsu's head just beneath his.

And then he gently raised Minsu's head, tilting it upwards with his hand.

There. He could see him like that. That gaze that constantly drove him wild.

He leaned in and kissed Minsu, his black hair dangling above Minsu's head, tickling his cheeks.

Nothing.

No words.

Just a gesture of tenderness with a hint of possessiveness that said everything between them :

𝙞 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪.