Archive of Our Own

Jun: 

“Here, Shin, I bought bread for you. You skipped lunch, right?” Saint came running like a puppy, offering bread to Shin

Dylan:

“Aii saint, how many times should I tell you, I don't wanna talk to you.” Shin didn't even look directly at Saint; he was just pissed and irritated 

Jun: 

“Shin, listen to me please, you don't have to talk, just take the bread and maybe just let me in for once,” saint requested

Dylan:

“You think you deserve this saint, letting you back in ?? DON'T FORGET YOU LEFT ME.” Shin's voice cut through the air, frustration evident as he confronted the saint.

Jun:

Saint knelt on the ground, tears in his eyes that shone in the fading light. He spoke with desperation, his voice heavy with regret. “Please,” he said, nearly choking on his words, “give me a chance to fix my mistakes. I want to make up for what I have done.” He felt exposed and humble as he reached out, seeking forgiveness and a spark of hope.

Dylan:

Shin was not ready to forgive. He grabbed Saint by the collar and lifted him off the ground. The air was tense as Shin's fist tightened, ready to strike. "No, Saint," he said in a low, angry voice. "I won't give you what you want... this is your punishment for life."

“AND SCENE!” the teacher exclaimed

cutting through the air with a decisive tone. The surroundings felt electric as Dylan gripped Jun by the collar, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. Their bodies were so close that the warmth between them seemed almost palpable. 

Jun stood defiantly, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his eyes narrowed with a challenging glint that dared Dylan to make the next move. The tension was thick, the exchange charged with unspoken challenges and playful bravado, perfectly setting the stage for whatever drama was to unfold next.

Jun leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper as he taunted, “So you wanna punch me? Go ahead, try it.” His words sent a shiver down Dylan’s spine. The challenge in Jun’s gaze was both thrilling and infuriating.

Dylan's fists clenched at his sides, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “So what if I want to?” he retorted, the growl in his voice contrasting sharply with his usual demeanor. He was like a small, cornered kitten, fierce but vulnerable. 

With an unexpected surge of emotion, he pulled Jun closer, the proximity igniting the tension between them. “I want to knock that smug smirk off your face.” 

“Don't be so harsh, baby.” Jun chuckled 

All of this did not go unnoticed by their friends. In a rush, they dashed toward Jun and Dylan, swiftly intervening to break up the boys. 

Thame grabbed Jun by the arm, urging him to step back while Nano wrapped his arms securely around Dylan, preventing him from lunging forward again. 

“Enough already, you two! Can’t we just practice without all this drama?” Pepper exclaimed, frustration present in his voice as he glanced between the two boys.

Jun and Dylan were both frustrated when they parted ways, looking like rivals, similar to a dog and a cat. During the break, they avoided each other until the teacher came back to end the day. With their high school frenemy play performance in just three weeks, they were surprised to find themselves cast as the main leads. Their dislike for each other was clear, mixed with challenge, longing, and attraction. Everyone at the university knew they couldn’t stand each other, but no one realized the deeper secret beneath their playful "I hate you".

As the day came to an end, they packed up their things and prepared to leave. 

"Hey Jun, want to go out for snacks? I don’t have any more classes," Thame said, slinging his arm around Jun's shoulder. Dylan noticed this and made eye contact with Thame, his sharp gaze unwavering. Jun, being as sly as he is, casually shifted his bag onto one shoulder while sneaking his hands around Thame's waist. He maintained eye contact with Dylan, keeping a smug smirk on his face.

“Sorry, babe, I've got some assignments to do. Can we postpone our date?” Thame visibly cringed, removing Jun's hands from his waist and pushing him away playfully. “Ayy, Jun, can you ever stop flirting?”

Nano took photos of Thame and Jun while Dylan glared at Jun with intense anger.  

"I'll send these to Phi Po so he can show Thame what's what," Nano laughed.

“Nano, DELETE those RIGHT NOW!” Thame shrieked, his voice cutting through the air with urgency.  

“Huh? What if I say NO?” Nano replied, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.   

With a burst of adrenaline, Thame took off, sprinting after Nano. “Nano, come back here!” he called, determination fueling his every step.  

Pepper was sprawled on the floor, completely lost in laughter, tears streaming down his cheeks as he struggled to catch his breath. Across the room, Jun shot a playful wink at Dylan, flashing a mischievous grin as he called out a casual goodbye.

He took a step closer to Dylan, leaning in with a teasing, low voice that sent a thrill down Dylan's spine. “See you later, babes…” he murmured, before striding out of the room. The moment Jun left, an icy shiver coursed through Dylan, leaving him both exhilarated and unnerved.

As the door clicked shut behind Jun, the room seemed to shift, the air noticeably cooler in his absence. Dylan stood frozen for a moment, the echo of Jun’s voice still buzzing in his ears.

Pepper, still lying on the floor but now recovering from his laughter meltdown, propped himself up on his elbows and gave Dylan a pointed look.

“Okay, so—don’t kill him.”

Dylan blinked, startled. “What?”

Pepper sat up fully, brushing tears from his cheeks. “Jun. Don’t kill him. I know that face. If you two accidentally run into each other on a weekend or something, please try not to commit a felony. Everyone else will be busy, and I, for one, would like to avoid you two.”

Dylan opened his mouth to argue, but Pepper held up a hand.

Dylan ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. The weight of the moment settled into his bones—not heavy, exactly, but inescapable. “Fine,” he muttered, resigned. “I’ll behave.”

Pepper gave him a thumbs-up, flopping back onto the floor. “Good talk.”

Without another word, Dylan turned and headed for the door, the soft thud of his boots the only sound in the hallway as he made his way to the parking lot. The sun had dipped behind the trees, casting long shadows across the pavement. He didn’t glance back. There wasn’t much point.

He’d accepted his fate …  Jun’s fate

Dylan was almost there. The parking lot was quiet, lit by the soft yellow light of the streetlights. He walked quickly, hoping that no one had followed him and that no one had seen him lose his cool back in the auditorium.

He reached his car, keys already in hand, fingers fumbling with the lock—

And then: arms.

Strong, familiar, warm. Wrapping around his waist from behind like gravity itself had decided to embrace him.

“I missed you sooo much, bby,” Jun murmured, voice sticky-sweet and low against Dylan’s ear, face pressed into the back of his neck. His breath was warm and unapologetic, his touch unbothered by Dylan’s sharp edges.

Dylan froze. A thousand silent alarms went off in his head, but not one of them had the strength to override the surge of heat that rushed through his chest.

“Jun,” he said, voice a warning wrapped in surrender.

Jun only hummed, nuzzling deeper. “You smell so good.” He grinned against Dylan’s skin. “God, I miss you so much .”

Dylan’s heart thudded against his ribs, betrayed by the way his body didn’t pull away. He stood there, tense but unwilling to break the contact.

“You’re insane, we were together the whole day,t…leave me,” he muttered.

Jun tightened his grip slightly, just enough to make Dylan exhale. “Only for you.”

They stood like that for a moment, caught between memory and reality, between something ruined and something unfinished.

Finally, Dylan said, softer this time, “People will see.”

“I’m counting on it,” Jun replied, laughing under his breath. “Let them.”

“Jun urggghghg,” Dylan growled 

In a moment of excitement, Jun leaned in and quickly kissed Dylan, keeping their secret safe from others. They got into the car, their hearts racing, enjoying the thrill of their hidden affection while the outside world remained unaware.

The car was parked far in the back corner of the lot, hidden under the stretch of an overgrown tree. The windows were slightly fogged from the summer heat, but the air inside was thick with something else entirely.

Jun lounged in the passenger seat, grinning lazily with one leg pulled up on the seat as if he owned the space—and Dylan . He reached for the radio, but before he could touch it, Dylan suddenly turned, his eyes sharp and his posture alert.

In one swift motion, Dylan grabbed the collar of Jun’s shirt and yanked him closer across the console, holding him there with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“So…” Dylan's voice was low, teasing but laced with something darker underneath. “Do you want to go on a date with Thame?”

Jun’s grin widened. He didn’t flinch—if anything, he leaned in closer, their foreheads nearly brushing. “So what if I do?” he purred. “What are you gonna do, baby? Punch me like Shin was gonna punch Saint, huh?”

Dylan blinked, caught off guard for just a second by the absurdity of the comparison. Then he laughed—short, sharp, and slightly unhinged. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you are possessive,” Jun whispered, lips brushing against Dylan’s as he spoke. “Admit it.”

Dylan didn’t move. His grip on Jun’s collar tightened just slightly, enough to make Jun’s breath hitch. “You’re mine,” he murmured.

Dylan leaned in, eyes dark, breath warm against Jun’s lips, the space between them charged and crackling. Jun’s fingers gripped Dylan’s jacket, pulling him impossibly closer.

And then—

Laughter. Loud. Too close.

They froze.

A chorus of familiar voices echoed through the lot, careless and chaotic. It was unmistakable: Pepper. Nano. And, god help them—Thame.

“Shit,” Dylan hissed.

They tore apart like startled teenagers, Jun scrambling back into his seat, face flushed and wide-eyed. Dylan ducked down, yanking Jun by the wrist.

“Down—get down, now ,” he barked in a whisper, pulling Jun low enough that they were both hidden beneath the dash and the edge of the window.

“Are they serious? Why are they here?” Jun whispered, trying not to laugh. “This is so—”

“Shut up,” Dylan hissed, flattening himself against the seat, one hand frantically adjusting the lever to lower it. The chair screeched slightly as it dropped, and both of them winced in sync.

Outside, the voices grew louder—Nano’s cackle, Thame’s unmistakable whine about being promised ice cream, and Pepper loudly debating whether he'd left his keys in his shoes. They lingered just a few cars away.

Time felt like it was moving slowly. Dylan hardly breathed. Jun’s hand was still in his, both of them curled up awkwardly like they were hiding from their friends. 

After five long minutes, the voices started to fade. The sounds of doors closing and an engine starting broke the tension. Dylan waited another minute before carefully looking up. “Clear,” he breathed.

Jun popped up beside him, hair tousled and smile wide. “You’re ridiculous.”

Dylan glanced at him, still holding his hand. “We almost got caught.”

“You kissed me,” Jun shot back, grinning like he’d won something.

Dylan rolled his eyes but didn’t let go. “Shut up.”

The night had settled deep by the time Jun kicked off his shoes at Dylan’s apartment, a hoodie slung half-off his shoulder and a script rolled into his back pocket.

“Don’t judge the edits,” Jun warned as he flopped onto the couch. “Lego and Thame were way too excited about this rewrite. I am sure Thame was blushing the whole time he typed ‘em.”

Dylan raised a brow, flipping through the stapled pages as he walked past with two mugs of tea. “They turned a perfectly tragic friendship story into a BL fever dream.”

“Which is exactly why I agreed to it,” Jun said, smug. “Come on, let’s start from the rooftop scene.”

They moved to the open space near the window, city lights outside glinting off the glass like silent stars. Dylan stood a few feet away, script in hand, watching Jun slowly step toward the imaginary edge of the rooftop—the carpet now a crumbling ledge under Saint’s feet.

Jun’s expression shifted, body language folding into the weight of his character. Shoulders hunched. Voice low. Fragile.

SAINT (softly):
"I didn’t come up here to make a scene, Shin."
"I came up here because it’s the only place where I can hear myself think and find you."

Dylan’s brows furrowed. He slipped into Shin’s skin, his voice steadier, but tight with fear.

SHIN:
"You’re standing too close to the edge, Saint."

Jun turned slightly, gaze distant, trembling. The lines weren’t just words now—they were breathing between them.

SAINT:
"Everything’s been falling apart. I said I'd be there …. But I could not face you, Shin?"

A beat of silence passed. Dylan stepped forward, heart pounding for reasons that weren’t just acting.

SHIN (voice low):
"I hated you so much … and you disappeared."

And the silence between them wasn’t scripted.

Jun swallowed. “Do we… uh, do the next part?”

Dylan nodded slowly. “Yeah. The part where Shin finally pulls him back.”

They moved closer, breath mingling, tension rising like a slow tide.

SHIN (soft):
"Come here, Saint. I’m willing to let you in again."

Jun took a shaky breath, stepping back from the imaginary railing and into Dylan’s arms, chest to chest, hearts racing.

“God,” Jun whispered against Dylan’s collar, no longer reading

Dylan didn’t say anything. He tightened his grip just slightly.

They stood there in the dim glow of the living room lamp, the pages of the script discarded somewhere behind them, the rest of the world blessedly out of reach. It wasn’t Saint and Shin anymore. Not really. It was Jun and Dylan — stubborn, sharp-tongued, impossible — and everything they could never say out loud.

“I hate you, you know,” Jun murmured against his chest, voice barely above a breath.

Dylan gave a soft exhale, something like a laugh, but not quite. “Yeah,” he replied. “I hate you, too.”

But Jun didn’t pull away. He pressed his forehead against Dylan’s shoulder, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt like he was trying to hold together the parts of him that kept breaking every time they had to pretend none of this meant anything.

At university, they fought like hell. Constant bickering in rehearsal rooms, arguing over music cues, eye-rolls exchanged in full view of the cast. To everyone else, they were rivals who barely tolerated each other.

But behind closed doors, it was different.

Here, in the quiet, there were no eyes. No pressure. No walls between them except the ones they’d built themselves.

“I think about you too much,” Jun said quietly, like he was confessing to something shameful.

Dylan swallowed. His voice was low when he replied, raw and trembling at the edges. “Same.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind that felt like a held breath between storms. Their bodies were still touching, hands still clenched, but neither dared move.

Jun looked up, and Dylan’s heart nearly caved in at the sight of him — open, vulnerable, eyes heavy with something both devastating and beautiful.

“We can’t do this,” Jun said.

“No,” Dylan agreed. “But I want to.”

Jun nodded slowly, eyes glimmering. “So badly it makes me act like an asshole.”

Dylan’s lips twitched into a soft, sad smile. “Same.”

And that was the closest either of them got to saying I love you.

They didn’t kiss. Not yet. It wasn’t the moment.

Instead, Dylan raised a hand and gently cupped the side of Jun’s face, thumb brushing just beneath his eye like he was memorizing the shape of him. Jun leaned into it — soft, almost shy. Like even now, after all the sparring, all the pretending, he still couldn’t believe he was allowed this.

Dylan’s hand was still on Jun’s cheek, the moment suspended like the hush before a storm. Their faces drew closer, breaths mingling, everything else melting into the soft pull of gravity that had nothing to do with acting.

Jun’s fingers curled into Dylan’s hoodie, about to close the gap—

BANG BANG BANG.

“DYLAN OPEN UP! I KNOW YOU’RE HOME.”

Dylan nearly jumped out of his skin . Jun yelped, pulling back in panic.

“Oh my god ,” Dylan hissed. “It’s Pepper.”

Jun blinked. “Why does he knock like he’s the police?!”

“Because he is ,” Dylan whispered, already pushing Jun back toward the hallway. “Hide. Just go. Closet. Under the bed. Fridge. I don’t care.”

But Jun, ever Jun, paused, smirked—and before Dylan could react, grabbed his collar and kissed him . Full, slow, defiant.

“You’re cute when you panic,” he whispered, then dashed toward the hallway with the speed of someone who’d done this before.

BANG. BANG. BAAANG.

“DYLAN! If you don’t open this door in five seconds, I’m calling Thame and telling him you’re having a breakdown in silence again!”

Dylan frantically smoothed his hair, grabbed the script from the floor, and shoved a throw blanket over the couch like that would hide the vibes . He did a full 360 spin in place, cursed under his breath, then opened the door with the fakest calm expression known to mankind.

“Hey.”

Pepper stood there holding a small tub of overpriced artisanal ice cream and wearing a suspicious look . “What took you so long?”

“I… was meditating.”

“You don’t meditate.”

“I do now.”

Pepper squinted and stepped inside like a bloodhound on a scent. “Weird. Your hair’s all messy. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or done cardio.”

Dylan blinked, expression stone-flat. “I did jumping jacks.”

“In socks?”

“Better grip,” Dylan muttered.

Pepper narrowed his eyes but said nothing. He walked to the kitchen like he owned the place and plopped the ice cream onto the counter. “I brought you this because I was bored and sad, and you live in the same building and don’t have friends other then us.”

“I have other friends,” Dylan said automatically, then realized how that sounded.

“Name one,” Pepper challenged.

Dylan opened his mouth. Closed it.

“Thought so,” Pepper sniffed, opening the drawer and pulling out two spoons. “Anyway, you’re sharing this with me now. Also, why does it smell like—” He paused. Sniffed the air again. “Is that Jun’s cologne?”

Dylan choked on air. “What? No. You’re imagining things.”

“I’m not imagining the scent of doomed bisexual tension , Dylan,” Pepper said, hopping up onto the counter and pointing a spoon at him. “You’re hiding something.”

Dylan smiled tightly. “I’m hiding the fact that I regret giving you a key.”

Somewhere down the hall, Jun sneezed.

Pepper blinked.

Dylan had tried everything short of lighting a fire alarm to get Pepper out.

“Oh my god,” Dylan groaned as he stood by the front door, holding it open like his life depended on it. “I love you. Go home.”

Pepper scooped another bite of ice cream into his mouth, chewing slowly. “You seem nervous. Your eyes are twitching.”

“I have an eye condition , now leave.”

Pepper raised an eyebrow. “You’re hiding something, aren’t you?”

Dylan smiled so hard it looked painful. “I’m hiding the urge to throw this spoon at you.”

Pepper squinted. “We’re watching a movie tomorrow.”

“Great. Text me the name. And the time. And your final words, because I swear—”

“Good night, you gremlin,” Pepper said sweetly, finally stepping out.

The moment the door shut, Dylan collapsed against it and let out a dramatic sigh of survival. Silence filled the apartment again — soft, warm, and real.

He tiptoed down the hallway, heart calming with every step. When he pushed open the bedroom door, the tension that had built up in his chest melted entirely.

There, curled up beneath his blanket, was Jun.

Hair tousled, hoodie half-off his shoulder, script pages still clutched in one hand — the other sprawled where Dylan’s pillow was supposed to be. His lashes fluttered slightly, and he murmured something sleepy under his breath, already drifting.

Dylan moved quietly, slipping out of his clothes and into something soft before sliding into the bed next to him. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t overthink.

He slipped into Jun’s arms like he belonged there.

Jun stirred slightly, instinctively pulling Dylan closer with a lazy hum, as if even in his sleep, his body recognized who it needed.

Dylan laid his head on Jun’s chest, the steady rhythm of his heart grounding him. His fingers traced soft circles on Jun’s side. He closed his eyes and smiled, the kind of smile that came when the noise of the world finally faded.

This was Jun.

His chaos. His calm. His world.

They had been rivals since school, constantly pushing each other, challenging, fighting over stupid things like rehearsal space and cafeteria coffee. They kept the illusion alive — because maybe it was safer. Maybe it was thrilling to pretend it was hate. Maybe it was just fun to make each other mad and then kiss behind closed doors.

But now, Dylan knew one thing for certain.

Tomorrow, he was going to take Jun out.

No hiding. No pretending. No more whispering I hate you when they meant I love you .

They would hold hands in public.

The morning sun shone through the blinds, creating soft stripes of light on the bed. Dylan slowly woke up, feeling a bit confused at first, until he noticed the warmth beside him. Jun lay curled up under the blankets, one leg resting over Dylan’s hip, his messy hair and peaceful face showing he was still asleep.

 Dylan smiled.

Like, really smiled.

It was the kind of morning he used to pretend he didn’t want.

Now it felt like the only thing he’d ever need.

Jun stirred, eyes fluttering open. He blinked blearily at Dylan and grinned, sleepy and genuine. “You slept with me.”

Dylan leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, then nose, then lips. “You hog the bed…my bed.”

Jun snorted. “You love it.”

“Hmm, idk,” Dylan admitted.

They stayed like that for a few more seconds—lazy and warm, legs tangled, hands softly brushing. But then Dylan sat up with a sudden spark in his eyes. “Come on. Get up.”

Jun groaned dramatically. “Nooo.”

“I’m taking you out,” Dylan said, already pulling on a hoodie. “You love movies. We’re watching one. I’ll even feed you.”

Jun shot up immediately. “Popcorn and a date? Be still, my slutty little heart.”

At the theater…

They ended up at the local cinema that had just re-released The Amazing Spider-Man . Jun was practically vibrating with excitement as they walked up to the counter, practically dragging Dylan behind him.

“I swear if they cut any of Gwen and Peter’s rooftop scenes, I’m suing,” Jun muttered under his breath while Dylan paid for the tickets like a long-suffering boyfriend.

“You’ve seen this movie six hundred times,” Dylan said.

“And I will see it six hundred more . Let me be dramatic, it’s part of the experience.”

Inside the dark theater, they found a spot in the far corner, perfect for secrecy and, more importantly, uninterrupted cuddling. Jun immediately flopped into the seat and pulled Dylan beside him, tossing a hoodie over both their laps like a blanket.

Jun leaned his head on Dylan’s shoulder, whispering, “This is the softest we have ever been.”

Dylan kissed the top of his head. “Shut up and watch your teenage spider boyfriend.”

Two rows back…

“Wait. Wait. Po. Po. Look.”

Thame was already halfway behind his popcorn bucket, peering over it like a spy on a high-stakes mission. Po blinked, confused.

“What am I supposed to be—oh. Ohhhhh. Oh my god.”

Thame whispered dramatically, “That is Jun. That is Dylan . And they are— they are holding hands . Po. This is not a drill.”

Po munched his popcorn calmly. “They look cute. Let them be.”

Thame practically vibrated. “Are you seeing this ? They’re sharing popcorn. Jun just tucked Dylan’s hair behind his ear. That’s domestic. That’s illegal.”

“Shhh, they’ll hear you,” Po said, tugging Thame down.

Thame ducked instantly, nearly knocking over his soda. “Do we say something?”

“No,” Po replied calmly. “We vanish like ghosts. This is their moment. And also, I want to finish this movie without being murdered.”

Thame, whispering like a Victorian gossip, nodded. “Right. We’ll never speak of this. Until tomorrow.”

“Obviously.”

Back up front…

Jun whispered, “You think anyone is keeping an eye on us?”

Dylan, completely unaware of the chaos behind them, shrugged and stole a piece of Jun’s popcorn. “Nope.”

Jun smiled.

Monday. Rehearsal Hall. Noon.

The weekend felt like a dream — faded laughter in a dark theater, tangled fingers over popcorn, Jun’s head on Dylan’s shoulder.

But now, under the harsh lights of the black-box stage and the eyes of half the university's theatre department, they were Saint and Shin again — enemies, lovers, heartbreak stitched between every line of dialogue.

“Places!” Pepper shouted from the side, holding a script like a weapon. “Scene twenty-four, rooftop confrontation. And please — please — make it real this time.”

Jun stepped onto the taped edge of the “rooftop,” breath already heavy, Saint’s desperation bleeding through him. Dylan limped on, his expression unreadable — dark, stormy, controlled.

They locked eyes. The room quieted.

SAINT (Jun) (voice trembling):
"I didn’t mean to—I never meant to hurt you, Shin. You have to believe me."

SHIN (Dylan) (flat, cold):
"Funny. That’s what you said the last time. And the time before that."

Jun stepped forward, eyes wide with panic. “Please. I was stupid—I thought you will leave me forever,I didn’t—”

SHIN (sharp):
"You broke my leg, Saint."
"I was on the ground, and you kept hitting me."

Jun flinched, voice cracking.

SAINT:
"I was scared. I was not thinking at all!"

SHIN (suddenly loud, cutting):
"I’m not angry because you broke my leg!"

The room went completely still.

Even Thame dropped his phone.

Dylan stepped closer, crutch dragging slightly behind him. His voice dropped to something raw, something that didn’t sound like acting anymore.

SHIN (softly):
"I’m angry because you left."
"And you keep doing it. Every time things get heavy, you run. You don’t fight for me. You don’t stay."

Jun’s breath hitched — visibly.

For a split second, it wasn’t Saint and Shin. It was Jun and Dylan once again.

Their hearts lay bare on a stage where no one else was supposed to see.

Jun reached out, not even thinking.

SAINT (broken):
"I never wanted to lose you."

SHIN (quietly):
"Then why do you keep letting me go?"

Silence followed. A long, pulsing beat of quiet. The kind that left your throat tight and your chest aching.

Nobody moved.

Even Pepper’s mouth was hanging open. Lego looked like he might cry. 

Finally, Pepper whispered, “Holy shit. Okay. Um. Break. Take five. Or... twenty. Jesus.”

Jun stepped back, eyes still a little glossy. Dylan turned away, jaw tight.

They didn’t say anything.

They didn’t have to.

Everyone around them had just seen something real.

Too real.

And no one quite knew what to do with that.

The moment Pepper called for a break, Dylan was gone.

He moved fast — too fast for anyone to stop him — ducking out of the rehearsal hall and down the corridor, heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with acting.

The scene had hit too close. Too raw. Too real.

He shoved open the bathroom door, barely registering the echo of his own footsteps on the tiles. He gripped the edge of the sink, breathing hard, water dripping from the faucet as if the room itself was trying to say something. He stared at himself in the mirror, eyes clouded with something he couldn’t explain — couldn’t admit.

It wasn’t just Saint Shin.

It wasn’t just the script.

It was Jun. Always Jun.

And the terrible, beautiful truth that what they’d just said on stage had come from places deeper than any character could reach.

A sound behind him.

He turned—

Too late.

A hand grabbed his wrist and yanked him back. The bathroom stall door swung open, and he was pulled inside, the lock clicking shut behind them.

Jun.

He didn’t speak. He just wrapped his arms around Dylan from behind, strong, firm, not letting him move. His face pressed into Dylan’s back, breath hot through his shirt.

Dylan froze.

Jun held tighter.

Like he was holding the pieces of Dylan’s heart together through sheer force of will.

They stood there in the cramped cubicle, pressed chest-to-back, silence buzzing between them like a live wire.

“You ok?” Jun whispered. 

Dylan closed his eyes. He didn’t need to ask what Jun meant.

He just nodded.

Jun’s voice cracked, soft and desperate. “Why do we keep running?”

That hit deeper than anything they’d said on stage.

Dylan turned slowly in his arms, their faces inches apart, the air thick with everything they’d been too afraid to name.

“I don’t know,” Dylan whispered. “I just… I don’t know.”

Jun’s eyes searched his. “Then let me show you. Just—stay.”

Dylan didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

Instead, he leaned in slowly, his heart racing as he pressed his lips gently against Jun's. It wasn't driven by overwhelming passion or a sense of urgency; rather, it was a quiet, desperate need that surged within him. This brief moment of connection brought a reprieve from the heaviness that had settled in his chest, making it just a bit more bearable.

In the cramped bathroom stall, the buzzing fluorescent lights created a constant noise. The world outside became distant. All the chaos and stress quieted down. In that small space, Jun felt like a steady anchor, the one thing that kept him grounded. The turmoil. Here, with Jun, he experienced a sense of safety and belonging, a rare feeling that he desperately craved, as if this moment was a fleeting glimpse of home.

After a while, Dylan and Jun emerged from the bathroom looking like two people who had just been emotionally wrung out, microwaved in anxiety, and lightly toasted in confession.

Their hair was messy. Their shirts were slightly tugged out of place. Jun still had one hand loosely curled around Dylan’s wrist like he hadn’t quite remembered to let go.

They were calmer. The tension had faded into something warmer. Realer.

And they were not prepared for what came next.

Standing right across the hallway, holding two iced coffees and three muffins like offerings to the gods of gossip, were Pepper and Nano .

Frozen.

Mouths open.

Eyes wide .

Jun blinked.

Dylan blinked.

Nano blinked twice , dropped a muffin.

Pepper gasped so hard he nearly inhaled his straw. “YOU—YOU WERE—WE SAW—YOU—”

“—I-uh—this is not—” Dylan stammered, literally backing up a step into Jun.

Jun, to his credit, simply sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and said, “You two need hobbies .”

Pepper flailed. “I HAVE A HOBBY. IT’S YOU TWO .”

Nano was still stuck in loop mode. “You kissed. You kissed. You. Kissed. You—”

“Okay, enough ,” Dylan barked, running a hand through his hair like a man who had accepted his fate, his sins, and whatever divine punishment was about to be dropped on him via Pepper’s very loud mouth .

Jun calmly grabbed one of the remaining muffins from Pepper’s stunned grip. “Thanks for the snack.”

Pepper squeaked.

Nano snapped a photo of the muffin theft like it was evidence in an emotional crime.

“Oh my god,” Pepper finally breathed. “You guys are FUCKING EACH OTHER. Really ? For how long? That’s not subtle.”

Jun took a bite of the muffin. “Yeah, and? You mad you didn’t get front row tickets?”

“NO WE ARE NOT,” Dylan shouted 

Nano blinked. 

Dylan buried his face in his hands.

Pepper pointed a straw at him. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, Mister .’ You were into it. I saw a tongue. I know tongue when I see it .”

Dylan made a sound that can only be described as a dying seagull.

Jun patted his back. “Breathe, baby .”

“ Anyway ,” Nano chirped. “Spill the tea now.”

Pepper high-fived him.

Jun just grinned.

“We are not together…” Dylan sighed 

And they all were out skipping to have lunch

They arrived at the campus café twenty minutes later, squeezed into a booth like a dysfunctional royal family. Dylan sat stiffly at one end, staring angrily into his iced coffee as if it had let him down. Jun relaxed beside him, sipping his drink and giving smug looks like they were confetti. Pepper and Nano were still reeling, buzzing with the energy of scandal. Po and Thame had shown up halfway through and somehow knew everything within five minutes of sitting down.

“So,” Pepper began dramatically, “Bathroom make-outs now? Bold of you two. Very Saint & Shin .”

“It wasn’t like that,” Dylan muttered into his straw.

Nano’s eyes lit up. “Ohhh, the denial arc begins. This is better than anything Thame’s ever written.”

“It was just the heat of the moment,” Dylan snapped, louder this time. “The scene was intense. Emotions were high. Jun was being—”

“hot…?” Jun finished, fluttering his lashes.

Nano choked on their soda. “Oh, you guys are gonna be the death of me.”

Po raised an eyebrow, calm as ever. “So we’re just pretending Jun didn’t crawl into Dylan’s arms like a clingy puppy?”

“I was cold and emotional,” Jun deadpanned.

“You kissed me,” Dylan hissed.

“You kissed back ,” Jun grinned.

“You two are insufferable,” Nano groaned, “ and are you in love. Say yes or yes.”

The table erupted in laughter, and Dylan looked about three seconds from teleporting out of his seat.

“Okay!” he barked. “Can we please drop this? I said it meant nothing. It’s not—Jun’s just dramatic. Always has been. Always will be.”

Jun froze for a beat. Then gave a slow, dangerous smile.

“Oh?” he said sweetly. “Nothing?”

Dylan didn’t even get a chance to blink before Jun suddenly swung one leg over his lap, straddling him right there in the café booth.

“Jun— what the hell —”

Everyone froze.

Pepper’s eyes bugged out.

Nano gasped so hard that a spoon fell off the table.

Po kept sipping his tea like he’d seen this coming since Thursday.

Thame was just stunned 

Jun leaned in, hands on Dylan’s shoulders. “Say it again,” he whispered, loud enough for only Dylan to hear. “Say it meant nothing.”

Dylan opened his mouth.

Jun kissed him.

Right there. In front of everyone .

It wasn’t angry. It wasn’t even smug. It was slow. Real. Deliberate.

And Dylan kissed back.

No hesitation, like it was the most natural thing ever 

When they finally pulled apart, Jun smirked, settling comfortably on Dylan’s lap.

Dylan looked dazed. “You’re impossible.”

Jun shrugged. “You love it.”

Nano was half-screaming into his napkin. Pepper was crying. Po, very calmly, texted Thame that just levitated.

Jun slid off Dylan’s lap like that was a normal post-kiss activity, calmly grabbing a fry from Po’s plate and munching it with the casual air of someone who didn’t just publicly make out with his formerly-rival-now- not so boyfriend.

Dylan blinked a few times, like rebooting.

Then picked up his coffee and took a sip.

Nobody spoke.

Nano slowly melted away 

Pepper was fanning themselves with a menu. “Okay. So. Are we just… acting normal now? Is that the plan?”

Jun, still chewing, nodded. “Yep.”

Dylan cleared his throat, fixed his hoodie, and said with robotic calm: “We should order. I’m starving.”

Everyone stared.

Po, unfazed as always, tapped his menu. “The shrimp rice bowl here is surprisingly good.”

Pepper blinked. “Did we just hallucinate everything?”

Jun leaned back in his seat, throwing an arm behind Dylan casually. “Nope.”

Nano sipped his drink and mumbled, “I feel like I’ve just witnessed the finale of an 84-episode slow-burn anime.”

Dylan finally smirked, glancing sideways at Jun. “You’re paying for lunch, by the way.”

Jun shrugged. “Fine. But I'll pick the movie tonight.”

Dylan rolled his eyes. “No more Spider-Man.”

“ Spider-Man 2 then.”

And just like that, they all eased back into conversation — as if two stubborn idiots hadn’t just crossed the line between rivals and lovers in the middle of a lunch rush.

As the table filled with food, laughter, and mockery, one thing became clear:
Jun and Dylan might still get on each other’s nerves.
They might argue, bicker, or compete.
But everyone could see it now — the truth they couldn’t hide anymore:

They were in love.

Messy. Chaotic. Stupidly in love.

And this time, they weren’t running from it.