Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Baby."

No answer.

"Baby."

Still nothing.

"Hey, baby."

This time Hyunjoon leaned over the library table, fingers brushing Wooje's ear as he tugged one earbud out. Wooje finally looked up from his notes, irritation flickering in his eyes.

"What now?" he muttered.

Hyunjoon rested his chin on his palm, grinning. "How much longer are you gonna study?"

Wooje glanced at the open pages in front of him. "I don't know."

"I'm hungry," Hyunjoon whined, stretching the word out like a complaint. "It's already way past dinner."

"Then eat," Wooje said flatly, sliding his earbud back in. "It's not like I'm stopping you."

Hyunjoon slumped back in his chair, pouting. "But we always eat together."

Wooje didn't bother responding. His pen moved steadily across the page, neat lines of ink filling his notebook as if Hyunjoon hadn't spoken at all.

A moment later, Hyunjoon let out a groan loud enough to earn a sharp shhh from the next table. He only groaned louder in reply, collapsing against the back of his chair as though the weight of hunger and rejection were both too much to bear.

It was dramatic, sure, but it wasn't exactly new.

For all the hours he spent in the library, you'd think Hyunjoon's grades would reflect it. They didn't. He wasn't here for the books, and certainly not for the silence. He was here for Wooje.

Wooje—the scholar everyone knew by name, always top of the class, the kind of student who seemed carved out of discipline itself. Most days he was a fixture in this very spot, hunched over textbooks, earphones tucked neatly in place, eyes fixed on the page like the world beyond it didn't exist.

Hyunjoon still remembered the first time he'd seen him, two years ago. Square glasses perched high on his nose, sometimes leaving faint marks along his cheeks. Fluffy hair that refused to stay out of his eyes, falling forward as he bent over a thick textbook.

There had been nothing extraordinary about it, and yet something in that simple image had settled into Hyunjoon's chest like a permanent marker. That was the moment his heart had decided for him: this is it. Don't ever let him out of your sight.

He hadn't, not once.

In that time since, Hyunjoon had confessed more times than he could reasonably keep track of—near a hundred, probably. Each one met with Wooje's inevitable rejection, delivered as casually as if he were brushing dust from a book. But it had become a part of their rhythm, like the rise and fall of breath: Hyunjoon confessed, Wooje said no, and the day moved on. What used to sting no longer did. If anything, Hyunjoon wore every refusal with a kind of crooked pride, proof that he was still trying.

He didn't realize how long he'd been staring until movement pulled him back. Wooje was standing now, already tucking his notes into his bag with the same unhurried precision he did everything else. Hyunjoon blinked, startled to find the moment slipping from him before he'd even noticed.

"Hey, are you done?" he blurted, half-rising from his chair. "Wait for me."

Pens clattered as he scrambled to sweep his things together, nearly losing a folder in the process. Wooje didn't slow, but Hyunjoon hurried after him anyway, trailing him out of the library with the same certainty he always had.

The evening air greeted them as the doors swung open, cooler than the hum of fluorescent lights inside. Without a word, Hyunjoon reached over and slipped Wooje's bag from his shoulder. It wasn't a grand gesture. Just one of those small, routine things he did so often that Wooje had stopped protesting months ago.

"So," Hyunjoon said easily, adjusting the strap over his arm. "What do you want for dinner?"

"Not hungry," Wooje replied, eyes already set on the path ahead.

That earned him an immediate pout. "Not hungry? You only had a sandwich at lunch. One. And don't think I didn't notice you skipping breakfast this morning too. You can't keep running on crumbs, baby. You'll collapse before the exams even start."

Wooje gave him a sidelong glance, unimpressed. "I'll be fine."

"No, you won't," Hyunjoon shot back, tone somewhere between scolding and sulking. "You're basically held together by caffeine and stubbornness."

The corner of Wooje's mouth twitched, but he kept walking, silent. Hyunjoon trailed close to his side, waiting for an answer that didn't come. When it was clear Wooje wouldn't speak, he pushed again, softer this time. "Come on. Just eat something with me. Anything."

A long sigh escaped Wooje, shoulders sinking. "Fine. Instant ramen then."

Hyunjoon stopped in his tracks, staring at him like he'd just confessed to a felony. "Instant ramen? Really? That doesn't even count as food."

Wooje pinched the bridge of his nose. "Then I'll eat whatever you want," he muttered. "You decide."

For a second, Hyunjoon just blinked, as if he hadn't heard right. Then his entire face lit up, grin stretching wide. "Wait—really? You're letting me pick where we eat tonight?"

"Mhm," Wooje mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes. "So decide before I change my mind."

Hyunjoon's grin only grew. He reached for Wooje's hand, fingers just brushing against his knuckles as he began, "Okay, I know this really good—"

Wooje pulled his hand back before he could lace their fingers, the faintest blush coloring his cheeks. "Don't push it, Hyunjoon," he muttered.

Unbothered, Hyunjoon slipped an arm around his shoulders instead, tugging him in close with all the ease of someone who'd been doing it for years. "So," he continued breezily, "I know this really good BBQ place…"

And just like that, their footsteps fell into rhythm again. Hyunjoon chattering on, Wooje pretending not to listen—though he didn't pull away.

The bus hissed as it came into a full stop, leaving Wooje to step onto the familiar stretch of pavement just outside campus. Hyunjoon was already there, leaning against the pole like he had all the time in the world.

"Good morning, baby," he greeted, bright as ever, already reaching to lift Wooje's bag from his shoulder.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? It's been over a year."

Hyunjoon's grin widened as he slung the strap over his own shoulder. "Exactly. Still saying it a year later. Consistency's a good trait, you know."

Wooje gave him a flat look but didn't reply, setting his pace toward their first class. Hyunjoon followed easily, hands in his pockets, humming under his breath.

Inside the classroom, a cluster of familiar voices called Hyunjoon over. Minhyung, Minseok, and Sanghyeok were already settled near the back, tossing jokes back and forth. Hyunjoon started walking toward them but paused long enough to toss Wooje a final, "Talk to you later."

Wooje didn't even look up, already pulling a book from his bag and plugging his earphones in, squeezing in every last minute before the lecture started.

At the back of the room, the boys were discussing weekend plans, their laughter spilling loudly into the air.

"Took you long enough," Minseok said as Hyunjoon dropped into the seat beside him. "What were you doing, carrying Wooje's bag again?"

Hyunjoon leaned back, hands laced behind his head. "What else would I be doing? Gotta make sure my baby gets to class in one piece."

Minhyung barked a laugh. "Man, you've got it bad."

Sanghyeok shook his head, amused. "You realize everyone thinks you're crazy, right? Still hanging around him after a hundred rejections?"

"Consistency is a good trait," Hyunjoon shot back smoothly, echoing his own words from earlier.

The conversation drifted easily from there, the way it always did. Minseok brought up the new PC bang down the street, boasting about its high-end rigs. Minhyung leaned forward, animated. "We should check it out after class. Loser buys chicken."

"You're already the loser," Hyunjoon said, smirking. "I'm not paying for your dinner again."

"That's rich, coming from the guy who went 0/7 last time," Minhyung shot back.

"Only because you weren't backing me up!" Hyunjoon protested, while Sanghyeok and Minseok cackled.

In the middle of it all, Hyunjoon glanced toward the front of the room. Wooje was settled at his desk, book open, earphones in, already half-lost to a page. Hyunjoon's tone softened without him even realizing it. "I'll join you guys later. After I walk him to the bus stop."

"Still clinging to that fantasy," Minseok teased, shaking his head. "You talk like you're actually dating."

Hyunjoon flicked him on the forehead, quick and sharp. "Shut up."

Their chatter filled the space as more classmates drifted in. A group of them gathered near Wooje's desk, voices rising in a noisy tangled of conversation. Wooje's head lifted, eyes narrowing briefly before dropping back to his book.

Hyunjoon didn't hesitate. He snagged a notebook from the nearest desk, marched over, and tapped each one of them lightly on the head in turn. "Hey. Don't you see my baby's trying to study here while you're all blabbering like animals? Go chatter in the other corner."

The group groaned, rubbing at their heads, but shuffled away with sheepish smiles.

When Hyunjoon looked back, Wooje was already watching him. Their eyes caught for a heartbeat, steady and unspoken. Hyunjoon answered with a wide smile and an exaggerated thumbs-up before retreating back to his friends.

Wooje exhaled through his nose, scoffing under his breath as he bent over his book again. "You're such an idiot," he muttered, though the faintest trace of color lingered at his ears.

hyunjoon: what are you wearing to school today

wooje: what nonsense are you up to now

hyunjoon: just answer

wooje: red hoodie, black pants. why?

No reply. Wooje waited a minute, then two, but the screen stayed blank. With a quiet sigh, he slipped the phone back into his pocket and headed out for school.

When he stepped off the bus, Hyunjoon was nowhere in sight. For once, there was no cheerful good morning, baby, no hand reaching to take his bag. Wooje actually paused, checking his phone again for a message that might explain the absence. Nothing. Fine, he thought. Honestly, it was nice to walk the stretch to campus without Hyunjoon trailing beside him like a lost puppy.

That peace lasted all of ten minutes.

The moment Wooje pushed open the classroom door, a voice rang out loud enough to make him jolt, nearly dropping his bag.

"Couple look!"

Wooje froze.

There he was in the back—Hyunjoon, grinning from ear to ear, also dressed in a red hoodie and black pants. He looked far too pleased with himself, as if he'd just uncovered proof that destiny had personally ordained their relationship.

A ripple of laughter went through the room. Wooje ducked his head at once, crossing the floor in quick strides and dropping into his seat as though hiding could undo the scene. He pulled out his book, flipped it open, and buried himself in the page.

Hyunjoon strolled over a moment later, hands shoved into his hoodie pocket, grin still plastered across his face. "Good morning, baby," he said, reaching out to ruffle Wooje's hair before leaning back again. "Sorry I couldn't walk you to school today. I wanted this to be a surprise."

Wooje didn't bother looking up. "Not exactly a good one," he muttered, eyes fixed on the page.

Before Hyunjoon could reply, the rest of his friends filed in—Minhyung, Minseok, and Sanghyeok, all loud and careless as they claimed the seats in the back. Hyunjoon immediately turned, seizing his chance.

"Look at this," he said, gesturing proudly between himself and Wooje. "Couple look, right? Matching red hoodies, blank pants—tell me that's not fate."

His friends barely spared him a glance, already shaking their heads. Minseok waved him off with a snort. "You're unbelievable. I bet you asked him what he was wearing beforehand."

"What do you know about it, huh?!" Hyunjoon shot back, voice pitched high as he threw his hands up dramatically. The outburst earned a round of laughter from the table.

Wooje reached out and gave his sleeve a quick tug, just enough to break his posturing, and finally looked up long enough to pin him with a flat glare. "Knock it off and sit down already."

Hyunjoon leaned down just enough to whisper, "But we look good together, don't we?" His lips curved into a pout, exaggerated and boyish, as though sulking over Wooje's glare.

He didn't head back right away, though, lingering at Wooje's desk with his elbows propped against the edge. "Exams are coming up," he said, tilting his head. "You planning to stay late in the library again tonight?"

Wooje didn't look up from his book, only gave a small nod.

Hyunjoon's grin stretched wider, like he'd been waiting for that answer. "Perfect. Then after that, I'm buying you whatever you want from the convenience store. Brain fuel for tomorrow's exams."

Wooje sighed softly, flipping a page without comment, but Hyunjoon acted as though he'd just won another victory. Still grinning, he finally pushed himself upright and started walking back to his seat. On the way, he caught one of their classmates sneaking a glance at Wooje.

Hyunjoon's smile cooled into a brief glare. He reached out and smacked the back of the guy's head. "What are you looking at him for? Eyes front," he muttered, low but pointed.

The classmate grimaced, rubbing at his head, and quickly looked away. Only then did Hyunjoon's grin return, smug as ever, as he strolled back to his seat at the back of the room, looking ridiculously pleased with himself.

The library was quieter than usual, the late hour thinning out the crowd until only the most desperate students remained hunched over their notes. Wooje sat with his books spread neatly across the table, pen moving in steady strokes, the faint scratch of ink the only sound on his side.

Across from him, Hyunjoon had folded his arms on the table and fallen asleep, cheek pressed against his sleeve. His breathing was slow, even, the faint rise and fall of his shoulders breaking the silence. Wooje caught himself glancing up, rolling his eyes at the sight. Acting like I'm the only one with exams tomorrow, he thought. He's got the same schedule I do, yet here he is sleeping instead of studying.

Shaking his head, Wooje refocused on the page in front of him. Numbers and formulas filled the margins—financial accounting, the one subject that always tripped him up. He was confident in most of his classes, but this one dragged at his edges every semester. He usually scraped by with just enough to keep his GPA above the scholarship requirement, but excelling in it? That felt out of reach. Tonight, he drilled harder than ever, determined to close that gap.

The weight of that responsibility pressed against him the way it always did. He didn't come from money, didn't have the luxury of slipping up. His father worked two jobs to keep the family steady. His mother balanced her shifts with everything it took to run the household. The scholarship wasn't just his—it belonged to them too, proof their effort hadn't gone to waste. Wooje couldn't risk losing it.

That was his priority, always.

He paused, pen hovering over the page, and glanced across the table again. Hyunjoon hadn't stirred. His hair had fallen across his forehead, soft and messy, and his lips were parted just slightly as he slept.

Wooje let out a quiet sigh. This idiot—always glued to his side, always ready with a shameless baby, never failing to confess his feelings for him at least twice a week. The biggest distraction in Wooje's life, and yet… there he was, again, even when he didn't have to be.

Almost without realizing it, Wooje's hand drifted forward. His fingers hovered above Hyunjoon's head, tempted to smooth it back, to feel the softness for just a moment. But he stopped himself, hand frozen in the air.

After a beat, he pulled back slowly, setting the pen firmly between his fingers again, grounding himself in the lines of ink and the numbers waiting on the page.

Time passed in steady silence, broken only by the scratch of his pen and the occasional rustle of page turning. Eventually, Wooje leaned back, scanning his notes one last time before closing the book with a quiet thud. He packed his things neatly, sliding pens into their case and stacking his folders with practiced order. When he finally rose to his feet, Hyunjoon was still slumped across the table, fast asleep.

It wouldn't have been the first time Wooje left him like this. He'd done it before without hesitation, walking out into the night while Hyunjoon slept through until the staff nudged him awake. He took a few steps toward the door, his bag slung across his shoulder. But his pace slowed, something in him hesitating.

He stood still for a moment, staring at the exit, before letting out a quiet sigh. Turning back, he walked to the table and reached for Hyunjoon's hoodie, giving the fabric a small tug.

"Hey," he murmured. His hand shook him gently until Hyunjoon stirred, blinking awake, eyes hazy and posture heavy with sleep.

"What…?" Hyunjoon's voice was thick with drowsiness.

"I'm done," Wooje muttered, unable to look directly at him.

Hyunjoon nodded, sluggish, rubbing at his eyes as he sat up. "Fell asleep again… I meant to study…" His words trailed off into a groan as he began gathering his things, movements slow and clumsy.

Wooje rolled his eyes, already making his way to the exit. "You always say that."

Hyunjoon jogged to catch up, his footsteps quick against the polished floor. By the time they reached the door, he was right at Wooje's side, grinning as he grabbed his bag from him.

"You know," he said, voice bright with teasing. "This is the first time you haven't ditched me after a nap."

Color pricked faintly at Wooje's ears, but he deflected without missing a beat. "Don't flatter yourself. You promised to buy me something from the convenience store."

Hyunjoon laughed, pleased. "Fair enough. Let's go then."

They pushed through the library's glass doors, the warm hush of study halls giving way to the cool bite of night air. Outside, the rain was waiting—steady, unrelenting, pooling in the lamplight along the campus paths.

"Oh," Wooje muttered under his breath. "I don't have an umbrella."

Hyunjoon only clicked his tongue, shaking his head in mock disapproval. From his bag, he pulled one out with a flourish. "See? This is why having me around is handy."

With a swift snap, he popped it open, slipping an arm around Wooje's shoulders as though it were second nature. Together, they stepped into the downpour.

On the way, Hyunjoon angled the umbrella carefully, glancing down at him. "So, what do you want? I'll even let you have instant ramen tonight if you want, baby."

"I don't need your permission to eat instant ramen," Wooje shot back, unimpressed.

"Then maybe that chocolate drink you like?" Hyunjoon countered, grin tugging at his lips.

Wooje gave him a flat look. "Didn't you say I could pick whatever I wanted? Then why are you deciding for me?"

Hyunjoon chuckled, utterly unbothered. "Fine, fine. You can pick once we get there."

Wooje shook his head, but the argument died on his lips when his gaze drifted upward. He noticed it then—the way the umbrella was tilted, angled just enough to shield him completely while leaving Hyunjoon's far shoulder damp, rain soaking into the fabric of his hoodie.

His cheeks warmed before he could stop them. When he risked a glance, Hyunjoon was still smiling that same ridiculous smile, bright and unbothered, as if he didn't even notice.

By the time they reached the convenience store, Hyunjoon made sure Wooje was tucked safely under the awning before stepping in himself. He closed the umbrella with a practiced flick and gave it a quick shake, droplets scattering into the rain.

Inside, the bright lights and hum of refrigerators wrapped around them. Wooje drifted down the aisle, feet carrying him almost on autopilot until he ended up in front of the instant ramen shelf. Despite all his earlier talk, he stood there debating which one to grab. Hunger pulled at him harder than he expected—enough that he was tempted to grab two.

"You ended up here anyway," Hyunjoon's voice came from behind, warm with laughter.

Wooje ignored him, eyes fixed on the rows of brightly colored cups. Hyunjoon stepped closer, leaning into the narrow space between them. He reached past Wooje's shoulder, close enough that it felt like a playful back hug, and plucked a cup from the shelf. Holding it up with a grin, he said, "This one's my favorite. Not spicy, too—since you can't handle that."

Wooje froze, heat prickling the back of his neck.

Hyunjoon was close, so close that Wooje could feel the faint brush of his hoodie sleeve against his own. The warmth of him at his back lingered, subtle but undeniable, the kind of nearness that seeped into Wooje's skin and refused to be ignored.

For a second, it was all he could register—Hyunjoon's easy laugh, the faint scent of rain clinging to his clothes, the steady comfort of his presence hovering just behind him.

Without looking at him, Wooje snatched the cup from Hyunjoon's hand, grabbed another one at random, and turned on his heel, scurrying toward the register before the warmth could sink any deeper.

Hyunjoon's laughter followed easily. "Two? Really? You're gonna milk my wallet dry, baby."

Wooje muttered something under his breath, but his ears were still pink as Hyunjoon trailed after him, still grinning.

At the register, Wooje set the ramen cups down and opened his mouth. "Oh, I still need to—"

Hyunjoon cut him off, slipping a carton forward onto the counter. "Already got it for you."

Wooje glanced down. A chocolate drink.

He blinked once, then looked away quickly as heat crept back into his cheeks. "…Thanks," he murmured, voice low enough that it almost got lost beneath the hum of the store.

Hyunjoon's grin softened into something gentler, but he didn't say a word—just hummed in satisfaction as he pulled out his wallet.

A few minutes later, they found themselves perched on the narrow stools by the convenience store window, steam curling from the ramen cups in front of them. The rain outside blurred the streetlights into hazy streaks, the soft patter on the glass mixing with the clink of chopsticks.

Wooje lifted his noodles carefully, blowing on them before taking a bite. He had barely swallowed when Hyunjoon leaned over, stealing a mouthful straight from his cup.

"Hey," Wooje protested, swatting at his arm with the back of his chopsticks. "You have your own."

"Yours tastes better," Hyunjoon said around a grin, dodging another half-hearted swat as he slurped the noodles triumphantly.

They ate like that for a while, Wooje trying—and failing—to guard his meal, until the conversation drifted back to what waited for them tomorrow.

"You know," Hyunjoon said, chopsticks tapping against his cup, "you always stress over exams, but you end up acing them anyway. You should just get plenty of sleep tonight and have a good breakfast in the morning. That's all you need."

Wooje gave him a flat look. "Make sure you don't follow your own advice. You didn't even crack a book open earlier. Maybe you're the one who should be staying up all night to study."

Hyunjoon leaned back, smug. "Nah. I've got a secret weapon."

Wooje raised a brow. "And what's that?"

Hyunjoon flashed a grin, tapping the side of his head. "Photographic memory."

Wooje reached over, pressing a finger against Hyunjoon's temple and giving it a light push. "Just say you're lazy."

Hyunjoon chuckled, unbothered, and reached across to steal another bite. Wooje swatted at him again, but his lips twitched—threatening the smallest smile as the rain kept falling outside.

The halls were buzzing with a nervous sort of energy, clusters of students checking their phones, voices rising and falling with everything from sighs of relief to low groans. Exam results day always left the air taut. Everyone seemed a little on edge—everyone except Hyunjoon.

Sure, he didn't study nearly as hard as Wooje, but when he said he had photographic memory, he meant it. He'd skimmed through his own notes the night before, and that was enough to carry him. He never needed top marks, just enough to scrape by and keep moving. Passing was good enough for him.

Stretching his arms overhead as he stepped out of the restroom, he muttered to himself, "Guess I should check my results too…" His eyes flicked down the hall, where Minseok, Minhyung, and Sanghyeok were already gathered, beckoning him over with wide grins. He started walking toward them—

And that was when his name rang out, sharp and clear.

"Hyunjoon!"

His head jerked up immediately, recognition sparking before his brain even caught up. That voice—he'd know it anywhere. Down the hall, Wooje came into view, running toward him, calling his name again.

"Hyunjoon!"

This time it wasn't sharp. It broke into a wail, raw and desperate, cutting through the chatter around them like glass shattering. Hyunjoon's eyes widened. He didn't hesitate—his legs moved before he even thought about it, breaking into a run.

They collided halfway, the slap of sneakers echoing against the tiled floor. Wooje stumbled to a stop in front of him, shoulders heaving, his whole body trembling like it might give out at any second. Tears streaked his cheeks, his eyes red and frantic, and for a second, Hyunjoon forgot how to breathe.

"Wooje…" His voice came out low, almost disbelieving, because he'd never seen him like this—never.

Hyunjoon's chest tightened. "What happened?" he asked, but Wooje didn't answer. He just kept sobbing, head bowed, shoulders caving in as though the weight of it all was crushing him.

Carefully, Hyunjoon reached out, his palms warm as they cupped Wooje's cheeks. He tilted his face upward, even though every part of him ached at the sight of Wooje's tear-streaked skin. "Hey," he urged, voice steady but gentle. "Tell me what happened."

The words came out broken, stuttered between sobs. "It's… it's financial accounting. I failed." His voice cracked on the word, his head shaking in disbelief. "I-I don't understand—I studied for days. Nights. I was in the library every evening. Even the night before the exam, when you told me to rest, I'd stayed up studying. And still…" His throat tightened, and the tears came harder. "Still, I f-failed."

Movement caught Hyunjoon's eye—down the hall, his friends had started walking over. The grins they'd worn earlier had already faded, replaced with uneasy glances as they took in the scene. Hyunjoon's gaze sharpened, jaw setting as he mouthed a sharp, silent Not. Now.

They faltered, steps slowing, uncertainty flickering across their faces. They'd never seen Hyunjoon like this before—never seen the grin wiped clean, his expression sharpened to something so unyielding. Without a word, they backed off, turning away to give them space.

Wooje's hands clutched at Hyunjoon's sleeves, trembling. His voice cracked again, raw and panicked. "What if I lost my scholarship because of this? What am I supposed to do?" His whole body shook, fear and despair spilling out with every word, as if saying them aloud only made them more real.

"Hey," Hyunjoon said, steady, his hands still framing Wooje's face. "Look at me, Wooje."

It took a moment, but finally Wooje's eyes lifted, red and glassy, meeting his.

Hyunjoon held his gaze, voice firm but gentle. "It's going to be okay. I'll fix it. You don't need to worry, okay?"

And then, without hesitation, Hyunjoon pulled him in, crushing him against his chest with an urgency that left no room for doubt. His arms wrapped tight around Wooje's trembling frame, as if he could hold him together by sheer force alone. "It's okay," he whispered fiercely into his hair, the words raw but unwavering. "I've got you. I'll fix this, I swear."

Wooje's mind screamed at the lie. Hyunjoon couldn't fix this. How could he? This wasn't something a promise could erase, not something a hug could undo. And yet… even knowing that, the words burrowed deep, anchoring him in the storm of his own panic. His chest heaved against Hyunjoon's, each sob tearing out of him harder than the last, until it felt like all the fear and heartbreak he'd buried were spilling out at once.

He clutched at Hyunjoon's shirt, desperate, his tears soaking through the fabric. It didn't matter that the promise was impossible—because in that moment, in Hyunjoon's arms, it felt like maybe he could believe it anyway.

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual midday noise—chairs scraping against the floor, trays clattering, the low roar of students talking over each other. But at their table, the air was still.

Wooje sat hunched over his tray, chopsticks in hand, eyes fixed somewhere that wasn't the steaming bowl in front of him. A few bites of rice sat untouched, cooling fast.

Normally, when Wooje slipped into moods like this, Hyunjoon made it his mission to drag him out. He'd crack jokes, tease him until he cracked a smile, even run to the next stall to get his favorite side dishes just to coax a bite. But this time was different.

Hyunjoon could feel it in the slump of his shoulders, the glassiness of his eyes. He knew how much the scholarship meant to Wooje—and that a stupid joke wouldn't touch this kind of weight.

Still, it hurt to see him like this, silent and small in a place where he usually stood so steady.

Hyunjoon poked at his own tray of food, the sweet, sticky chicken gleaming under the cafeteria lights. After a moment, he slid a few pieces onto Wooje's tray, nudging them closer. "Eat up, baby," he said softly, almost tentative. "You like chicken, right? Have some of mine."

Wooje didn't even blink, chopsticks limp between his fingers as though he hadn't heard at all.

Hyunjoon's throat tightened. He sighed, leaning closer, and reached up to brush a few strands of hair out of Wooje's face. The strands fell right back onto place, but it didn't matter. His hand lingered for a second anyway, his chest aching at how pale and lifeless Wooje looked.

His voice came quieter this time, steady but aching. "I'm here, okay? No matter what."

He wanted to fix this. He wanted to take the weight off Wooje's shoulders and carry it himself. But all he could was sit there, close enough to remind him he wasn't alone.

The office was quiet except for the soft shuffle of papers as the department head glanced up at him. Her expression was calm, measured, but her words struck like a bell.

"You're not going to lose your scholarship."

Wooje blinked, the air catching in his lungs. "I—I'm not?" His voice wavered, almost disbelieving. "B-but… I calculated it myself. Even if I passed the others, failing financial accounting should have dragged my GPA below the requirement—"

The faculty member sighed, folding her hands atop the desk. "By the numbers, yes. Technically, letting the scholarship go would be the correct action." Her gaze softened. "But you've been here long enough for us to know the kind of student you are. You're one of the brightest, most disciplined we've ever had. You've never failed a class before, never caused trouble. You've built a reputation for consistency and dedication. That should mean something."

Wooje's breath hitched, relief already breaking through in his chest. "So… it means I can keep it?"

"Yes," she said, firm but gentle. "But only this once. If you fall below the requirement again, I won't be able to let it slide. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes." The word tumbled out quickly, almost too quickly. "I promise it won't happen again. I'll study harder, I'll do better—thank you, thank you so much." He bowed deeply, again and again, his gratitude spilling over.

The faculty member smiled faintly, waving him off. "Go on, prepare for your next class."

Relief still buzzing in his chest, Wooje bowed again, murmuring his thanks. He grabbed his bag from the floor, heart light for the first time in days, and turned toward the door. His hand had just closed around the knob when the voice called out behind him.

"Oh, and—you should thank your friend too."

Wooje straightened, turning around. "My… friend?"

"He came yesterday," she said, almost amused at his confusion. "Practically begged me not to take away your scholarship. Went so far as to drop to his knees right here in this office."

Wooje's lips parted, stunned into silence.

And then, like an echo, the memory surged back.

It's going to be okay. I'll fix it. You don't need to worry.

"Ow! Ow! Why are you hitting me? That hurts!"

Hyunjoon flinched, clutching his arm as Wooje smacked him with a book in the middle of the hallway.

"You're an idiot," Wooje muttered, swatting him once more for good measure.

Rubbing at his arm, Hyunjoon blinked in mock offense. "What did I even do this time?"

"What did you do?" Wooje snapped, his brows knitting. "Have you lost your mind? Kneeling in front of the department head like that—what were you thinking?"

Hyunjoon's eyes widened, genuine surprise flashing across his face. "Wait—how did you find out?" His voice tumbled out in a rush. "What happened then? Did they let you keep the scholarship?"

Wooje sulked, lips pushing into a faint pout, though his glare lacked any real heat. "Yeah. They did."

For a moment, Hyunjoon froze, and then his whole face lit up. He grabbed Wooje's arms, pulling him into a tight hug. "That's amazing! I can't believe it actually worked!"

Wooje stumbled against him, his face pressing briefly into Hyunjoon's chest, the fabric warm beneath his cheek. "Stop hugging me," he muttered, shoving him lightly in the chest.

Hyunjoon only beamed wider, his hands sliding up to squish Wooje's cheeks between his palms. "This means my baby won't be walking around frowning all day anymore."

"I wasn't frowning!" Wooje shot back, words muffled through squashed cheeks.

"Yes, you were," Hyunjoon teased, contorting his face into an exaggerated sulk. "Like this. Exactly like this."

Wooje glared at him for a long second before rolling his eyes. He let out a sigh, then reached up and grabbed Hyunjoon's hand, tugging it firmly. "Whatever. Let's just go. I'm hungry."

Hyunjoon stumbled a step, startled—not by being dragged, but by the fact that Wooje's hand was in his. Warm, solid, real. For a second, he almost thought he was imaging it, some trick of his lovesick brain, but no—the steady pull at his fingers told him otherwise.

He bit down on the grin threatening to split his face, but it was useless. It bloomed anyway, wide and uncontainable. The noise of the hallway dimmed, the chatter of other students fading to nothing, because all Hyunjoon could feel was the warmth of Wooje's hand in his.

Finally, he thought, his chest aching with something so bright it almost hurt. Finally, he's holding on too.

The library was its usual combination of low voices and turning pages, the hum of fluorescent lights steady overhead. Hyunjoon dropped his bag onto the table and pulled out a thin stack of notes, already knowing they'd sit untouched. That was the routine—he spread them out, Wooje studied, and he watched.

Sure enough, Wooje set his bag down across from him, as he always did. Hyunjoon barely glanced up, already leaning back in his chair. But then, without a word, Wooje picked his bag back up, rounded the table, and pulled out the chair beside him instead.

Hyunjoon blinked.

Wooje didn't explain. He just set his things down, unzipped his case, and began lining up pens and highlighters with his usual neat precision. Like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

For a moment, Hyunjoon only stared, caught off guard. The corner of his mouth tugged upward, slow and quiet, before he ducked his head and let the smile settle there. Wordlessly, he opened his own notebook, pen in hand.

And for once, instead of watching Wooje study, Hyunjoon bent his head over the page and studied too.

They left the library side by side, the air cool as they headed toward the bus stop. Their footsteps fell into rhythm, the silence easy in a way it hadn't always been.

"What are you doing after you drop me off?" Wooje asked suddenly, eyes fixed on the sidewalk.

"PC bang," Hyunjoon said without hesitation. "Meeting the guys there."

Wooje gave him a light smack on the arm. "It's always PC bang this, PC bang that. You practically live there."

Hyunjoon only chuckled, rubbing his arm where he'd been hit, grin tugging at his mouth.

They walked a few more paces before Wooje spoke again, his voice quieter this time. "…Can I come along?"

Hyunjoon blinked. "Huh?"

Wooje still didn't look at him, his gaze stubbornly on the road ahead. "I said, can I come to the PC bang with you?"

Hyunjoon stared for a beat, surprised. "Wait—you're serious? Didn't you say you were planning to study more at home? We've got that quiz tomorrow—"

Wooje finally turned to glare at him, sharp enough to cut. "Do you want me to come or not?"

The corners of Hyunjoon's mouth pulled wide, grin breaking loose before he could stop it. "Of course I do," he said brightly, voice warm with something almost giddy. "Of course I want you to come, baby."

Hyunjoon's friends were still trying to wrap their heads around it.

A little earlier, when he'd breezed into the PC bang and announced, 'Sorry boys, I can't play with you tonight, I'm playing with my baby,' they'd laughed it off—until Wooje walked in behind him.

Out of everyone, Wooje was the last person they expected to see in a place like this. The top scholar, the one glued to textbooks and deadlines, actually stepping into a PC bang? They hadn't believed it at first. But there he was now, sitting right beside Hyunjoon, sleeves pushed up as he leaned toward the monitor.

"Okay," Wooje muttered, eyes on the screen. "So I need to make an account first?"

"Yep." Hyunjoon was already leaning close, his shoulder brushing Wooje's as he clicked the register button. "What do you want your name to be?"

Wooje hesitated, frowning in thought. "I don't know. Something simple. Maybe just—"

Before he could finish, Hyunjoon grinned and typed quickly across the keyboard: hyunjoon <3.

"Hey—!" Wooje reached for the mouse, but Hyunjoon was faster. With one decisive click, the name was locked in.

"There." Hyunjoon leaned back, smug satisfaction written all over his face. "Perfect."

Wooje scowled, immediately dragging the mouse back toward him. "How do I change it?" He began clicking around the screen with growing irritation.

"You can't," Hyunjoon said lightly, chin propped on his hand as he watched.

Wooje froze. "What do you mean I can't?"

"You can't," Hyunjoon repeated, clearly savoring the moment. "Not until three months from now."

Wooje whipped around to glare at him, eyes wide. "Three months? That's the dumbest rule I've ever heard."

Hyunjoon grinned, unbothered. "Don't worry, baby. By the time those three months are up, you'll be used to it."

Wooje groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I can't believe I let you drag me here."

It wasn't long before the game loaded up, the monitors glowing blue with the champion select screen. Hyunjoon locked in quickly. "I'll jungle," he said. "You play top. I usually path there anyway, so I can cover you."

Wooje squinted at the list of characters, hesitating before hovering over one with an oversized hammer. "What do you even mean by you 'usually path there'?"

"Just play," Hyunjoon replied, already clicking through his runes. "You'll see."

"That's not an answer," Wooje complained, glaring at him. "You're a terrible teacher."

Hyunjoon only chuckled, leaning back in his chair as the loading screen came up. "You'll be fine. I'll cover you."

The match began, and within minutes Wooje was already frowning at the map, his hands clumsy on the mouse and keyboard. He marched his champion up the lane, trying to copy what little he'd seen Hyunjoon do.

It didn't take long for the chaos to begin.

"Why is my guy walking back and forth like this?" Wooje grumbled, jabbing the mouse too quickly.

"You're clicking too much," Hyunjoon explained, trying not to laugh. "One click, not twenty."

Wooje scowled at the screen. "That's stupid. He should just know where I want him to go."

A moment later, his champion swung the giant hammer in the wrong direction, completely missing the enemy minions. Wooje groaned. "What was that supposed to hit?"

"That was your ability," Hyunjoon said patiently. "You just… didn't aim it."

Then, out of nowhere, one more opponent appeared on his screen.

"Hyunjoon!" Wooje yelped, nearly jumping out of his seat. "There are two people here!"

"Relax," Hyunjoon said calmly, still focused on the jungle camp he was clearing. "Just stay under your tower until I'm done."

Wooje whipped his head toward him, panicked. "Where's my tower?!"

Hyunjoon's lips twitched, holding back laughter. "The big glowing thing behind you."

But by then, Wooje's champion was already sprinting the wrong way down the lane, the enemies chasing close behind. "Hyunjoon!" he shouted again, voice high with frustration. "They're chasing me. Do something!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Hyunjoon said, chuckling now as he flicked his camera up the map. "Baby, relax. Just don't die before I get there."

And true to his word, moments later his champion appeared at the edge of the lane, cutting into the fight with practiced ease. Wooje slumped back in his chair, still scowling at the screen. "This is ridiculous," he muttered. "I can't believe you find joy playing games like this."

But even as he sulked, his eyes flicked sideways to Hyunjoon, steady and grinning at the monitor, and he felt the tiniest pull of reassurance—like maybe, with him there, the chaos wasn't so bad.

The night air was cool and damp, the pavement still slick from an earlier drizzle. Streetlights glowed in hazy halos, their shadows stretching long across the empty road as Wooje and Hyunjoon walked side by side. The only sounds were the soft hum of traffic in the distance and the echo of their steps against the quiet street.

Hyunjoon had Wooje's bag slung over his shoulder, one hand hooked lazily through the strap. "See? You had fun," he said, grin tugging at his mouth. His voice carried easily in the stillness.

"I did not," Wooje replied flatly.

Hyunjoon chuckled, head tilting toward him. "Come on. You panicked, yelled my name twenty times, and ran straight into the enemy tower twice. That's fun."

Wooje gave him a sideways glance, unimpressed. "If your definition of fun is suffering, then sure."

Hyunjoon's laugh lingered for a moment before fading, leaving the sound of their footsteps again. The quiet pressed in, not heavy but not empty either—something in between, steady and present.

"It's late," Hyunjoon said after a while. "You're not really gonna study when you get home, are you?"

Wooje exhaled, eyes on the ground as he nudged a pebble forward with the tip of his toe. "I am. Financial accounting. There's a quiz tomorrow. I can't risk messing it up again."

For a few paces, neither of them spoke. The streetlights blinked past overhead, and Wooje found himself watching their shadows stretch and shorten on the pavement. Almost without thinking, his hand drifted sideways, brushing against Hyunjoon's before curling around it, their fingers slotting together. He didn't look at him when he did it. It felt natural, too unspoken, as if it had always been this way.

Hyunjoon's breath caught, though he tried to mask it with a small laugh. His heart raced anyway, pounding against his ribs as warmth spread from the press of their joined hands. He tightened his grip instinctively, not daring to let go, afraid the moment might dissolve if he blinked too hard.

Wooje's voice came quieter, almost hesitant. "People always assume I study nonstop because I love it. And I do, in some ways—I like the grades, the recognition. But sometimes… it's draining." His gaze stayed fixed ahead, words tumbling out in pieces. "There are days I wish I could just go straight home after class, instead of sitting in the library until it closes. Or relax and watch a movie without thinking about the next assignment. Or… go to the PC bang with you and not feel guilty about it."

He sighed, the sound heavier than the night around them. "I get tired of being the perfect student all the time."

Their hands swung lightly between them as they walked, the silence that followed threaded with something new, something fragile but steady.

"You don't have to be perfect with me," Hyunjoon said at last, his voice low but certain. His thumb brushed gently across the back of Wooje's hand, a quiet anchor in the cool night.

Wooje slowed, his steps faltering until he came to a stop in the middle of the quiet street. Hyunjoon paused too, turning to him in question, the glow of the streetlights catching in his eyes.

For a heartbeat, Wooje only looked at him. Really looked. At the boy who never left his side, who carried his bag without being asked, who sat through endless library nights just to nap across from him, who said baby with such certainty it felt less like a tease and more like a truth.

Through every rejection, Hyunjoon had stayed.

His constant.

His one steady variable in a life where everything else demanded more and more of him.

The thought pressed heavy in Wooje's chest, and before he could second-guess it, his free hand lifted, fingers brushing against Hyunjoon's cheek. The warmth of his skin beneath his touch was startling, grounding, and in that instant, everything else seemed to fall away.

Hyunjoon's breath caught. "Baby…?"

But Wooje didn't answer. He leaned in, closing the space between them, and pressed his lips softly against Hyunjoon's.

The kiss was tender, unhurried—sweet in a way that carried the weight of release, of something long denied finally finding its place. All the tension, the banter, the years of push and pull melted into that single moment.

Wooje pressed closer, his touch lingering at Hyunjoon's cheek, thumb brushing lightly along the curve of his jaw. Hyunjoon tilted into the touch, a quiet sigh slipping free as if he'd been waiting forever for this exact moment.

Their lips moved together slowly, a tenderness layered with the quiet desperation of years' worth of unspoken words. Wooje's shoulders eased, and for the first time, he let himself stay—let himself lean into Hyunjoon fully, without pulling back.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling in the cool night air. Hyunjoon's chest rose and fell unevenly, his smile trembling but radiant. Wooje stayed close, hand still cradling his cheek, unable to let go just yet.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke, the silence filled only by the faint rustle of leaves in the night breeze and the distant hum of passing cars. Wooje's lips parted, then closed again, hesitation flickering across his face. His heart pounded so hard he was sure Hyunjoon could feel it where their bodies brushed.

Finally, almost too softly to be heard, the words slipped free.

"I like you too."

The bus hissed to a stop, and Wooje stepped down onto the pavement, adjusting the strap of his bag. Just a few feet away, Hyunjoon was waiting like always, leaning casually against the pole as though the spot already had his name on it by now.

"Good morning, baby," he greeted cheerfully, grin wide as he extended his hand expectantly.

Wooje's cheeks warmed, but he brushed right past him without so much as a glance, striding toward campus.

"Hey," Hyunjoon called, catching up in a few quick steps. Without missing a beat, he slipped the strap of Wooje's bag off his shoulder and slung it over his own. "Why won't you hold my hand?"

Wooje snickered, eyes forward. "Because there are too many people around."

"So what?" Hyunjoon argued, falling into step beside him.

Wooje stopped short, turning just enough to point a finger at him, his expression serious despite the flush creeping up his neck. "No PDA."

Hyunjoon pouted instantly, lower lip sticking out as he let his arms flop dramatically to his sides. "But I want to hold your hand…" he whined, dragging out the words until passerby were staring.

Wooje sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching despite himself. For a moment, he didn't answer, just walked in silence while Hyunjoon trailed beside him, still pouting with exaggerated misery. He's impossible, Wooje thought, glancing sideways at him.

He exhaled slowly, gaze dropping to the pavement as he mulled it over. Maybe there was a compromise—something that would quiet Hyunjoon's whining without making Wooje want to disappear from sheer embarrassment.

Finally, he muttered, "Fine. No PDA, but…" He hesitated, words catching in his throat before he pushed them out. "I'll start calling you by a pet name instead."

Hyunjoon perked up at once, his whole face lighting. "Baby? You'll call me baby from now on?"

Wooje's ears turned red, but he gave the smallest nod. "That's the deal. No PDA in exchange for the nickname."

With that, he turned and started walking again, leaving Hyunjoon trailing after him with a grin that looked ready to split his face.

"Come on then," Hyunjoon pressed, jogging a step to catch up. "Call me baby. I wanna hear it."

Wooje kept his eyes stubbornly ahead. "No. The situation doesn't call for it."

"Oh, pleaseee," Hyunjoon pleaded, bumping their shoulders together. "Just once. Say it."

Wooje groaned under his breath, the fight draining out of him. After a long moment, he muttered so quietly it almost got lost in the morning rush, "…baby."

For a second, Hyunjoon froze in delighted disbelief. Then his grin split wide, too bright to contain, and he threw his arms up dramatically. "He called me baby!" he shouted, loud enough for half the campus to hear. "Did you all hear that? He finally called me baby!"

Wooje's face flamed as several students turned to stare. "Hyunjoon—shut up!" he hissed, smacking his arm hard enough to make him wince.

Hyunjoon only laughed, unbothered, jogging a step to keep up as Wooje stormed past him. "Say it again!" he teased, sing-song in his tone. "Come on, baby, one more time."

Wooje clenched his jaw, refusing to dignify it with an answer, though the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Beside him, Hyunjoon grinned without restraint, and as Wooje fought a losing battle against his own, the morning felt lighter than it had in a long time.