Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dongmin didn’t ask for anything new this semester. That turned out not to matter.

He liked the campus most at night. During the day, the university felt too loud. Students rushing between buildings, clubs recruiting aggressively near the quad, music blasting from open windows. But at night, when the library lights glowed softly and the wind carried the smell of grass and concrete, the world slowed down enough for him to breathe.

He sat on the steps outside the humanities building, black hoodie pulled up, headphones resting loosely around his neck. A vinyl record sleeve peeked out of his tote bag. He wasn’t listening to it now, obviously. It just felt right to carry it around, like a lucky charm. Not superstition, exactly, just something solid in a world that changed schedules and expectations every semester.

Behind him, laughter echoed.

“HYUNG, YOU ATE MY FOOD AGAIN?”

Dongmin didn’t turn around. He already knew who it was. Woonhak’s voice carried like a foghorn, three buildings away.

“I did not eat it,” Sanghyuk replied calmly, then added, “I borrowed it. Permanently.”

“That’s STEALING!”

Sungho’s laugh rang out, deep and uncontrollable. “Woonhak, you left it in the fridge for three days. That’s basically abandonment.”

Donghyun said nothing, which was suspicious.

Dongmin finally stood, stretching his long arms above his head. He adjusted the strap of his tote bag and walked toward the chaos that was his friend group, sneakers scuffing lightly against the pavement. He liked the routine of it. The messy circle on the grass, the same one they’d been occupying since first year, as if the campus had quietly accepted their claim. Half-empty coffee cups, someone’s jacket acting as a blanket, Donghyun staring at the sky like he was watching a movie only he could see. It was predictable in all the ways that mattered.

“You’re late,” Sungho said, still smiling.

“You’re loud,” Dongmin snickered.

Dongmin around other people was quiet, observant. But with his friends, he was different. Louder. Sharper. More alive. The kind of person who would swap the sugar with salt and then watch silently as chaos unfolded. And this— this circle of people was his comfort zone.

At least, it had been.

Until Jaehyun joined.

Jaehyun didn’t mean to stumble into their lives.

It happened during the first week of the semester, when he got lost looking for the student union building and ended up at a table where Donghyun was enthusiastically explaining something about parallel universes to Sungho, who was nodding politely while sipping a protein shake.

Jaehyun stopped. Blinked.

“…Is this the film club?”

Donghyun turned slowly. “No.”

Sungho grinned. “But you can stay if you want.”

Jaehyun laughed instantly, bright and easy, like he’d known them for years already. His backpack hung loosely from one shoulder, sleeves of his sweatshirt pushed up carelessly. “I mean, I’m already here. Might as well.”

And that was Jaehyun. Never awkward for long, never hesitant to insert himself into new spaces. He shook hands, introduced himself, learned names in seconds.

When Dongmin arrived later that afternoon, he noticed him immediately.

Jaehyun stood out, not because he was loud (though he was), but because he fit easily. Brown hair slightly messy, his skin catching the sunlight in warm tones, talking with his hands as he animatedly told Woonhak a story that had the youngest doubled over laughing.

Dongmin watched from a distance, unreadable because someone unfamiliar had stepped into a rhythm that usually took months to earn.

“Who’s that?” he asked Sanghyuk quietly.

“Jaehyun,” Sanghyuk replied. “Met him like… twenty minutes ago.”

“And he’s already part of the group?”

Sanghyuk shrugged. “Some people are like that.”

Jaehyun threw his head back at something Woonhak said—laugh bright, unfiltered—and that’s when he noticed Dongmin watching.

Their eyes met.

Dongmin didn’t look away fast enough.

Instead of glancing off politely, Jaehyun smiled. 

And then—

“Hey! You’re Dongmin, right?”

The ease of it made Dongmin stiffen.

“…Yeah.”

Jaehyun stepped closer like this was the most natural thing in the world. “I’m Jaehyun.” He held out his hand.

Dongmin hesitated half a second too long before taking it.

“Donghyun told me you’re a cool and mysterious guy,” Jaehyun added, lips twitching. “Which is… um. Interesting.”

Donghyun blinked from where he sat. “I did?”

Dongmin exhaled slowly. “You talk too much,” he muttered, already regretting every friendship decision he’d ever made.

Jaehyun laughed, completely undeterred.

Their hands met properly then.

Dongmin’s fingers were cool from the breeze.

Jaehyun’s were warm.

Something clicked.

Not loudly. Not dramatically.

Just a soft, precise sound—like the drop of a needle onto vinyl. Like something aligning by accident.

Jaehyun let go first, rocking back on his heels. “Nice to finally meet the mysterious one.”

Dongmin folded his arms, default posture restored. “I’m not mysterious.”

Jaehyun tilted his head. “That’s exactly what a mysterious person would say.”

There was no winning this.

Dongmin glanced at the others. They were already watching with poorly concealed amusement.

Great.

Not that I have to like it, Dongmin thought.

He’d survived louder personalities. Pushier ones. People who mistook silence for challenge.

He began mentally calculating the exact number of sarcastic comments he could deploy in the next hour without completely ruining his reputation.

Three, maybe four.

Five if strategically spaced.

Week 1, Friday

As the sun set, the group sprawled across the grass circle as usual, a big tangle of legs and bags and stray snack wrappers scattered around. Dongmin eased himself onto the edge, hoodie pulled a little higher, arms crossed, like an unspoken barrier.

Sungho was mid-story, waving a half-empty cup for emphasis. “I’m just saying, if you leave your coffee unattended, it’s public property.”

“That is NOT how ownership works,” Woonhak protested, clutching his own drink protectively.

Jaehyun, of course, plopped down next to Woonhak, dropping his arm around him. “Finally, my favorite people all in one place!” he announced, gesturing dramatically.

“You met us like three days ago,” Sanghyuk said dryly.

“And yet,” Jaehyun replied smoothly, “I’m emotionally attached.”

Dongmin’s lips twitched.

Favorite people… huh. He felt a little twinge in his stomach at the absurdity of being part of a stranger’s favourites. He shifted slightly, moving just far enough away to avoid direct contact but close enough to observe. Close enough to hear the way laughter rippled through the group, nice and familiar, like it belonged there.

And just as his sense of comfort began to settle back in, Jaehyun shifted toward him. He looked over his shoulder at Dongmin with a grin, eyes bright even in the dim light.

“Hey, what’s got you so quiet?”

You. Dongmin immediately thought. Not that he could say that out loud.

“What do you mean?” He said instead. “This is the first time we’ve talked.”

It came out more defensive than intended.

He didn’t understand it. Jaehyun had four other people to choose from—four people already laughing, already engaging. So why him?

Dongmin was not a quick-bond person. He required time. Distance. Gradual exposure. Like easing into cold water inch by inch.

Jaehyun, however, had cannonballed in 36 hours ago and was now swimming laps.

“Donghyun said you were a funny guy.”

“Not really,” Dongmin answered abruptly, not knowing what to say.

There it was again—his fatal combination. Dry tone. Minimal expression. Accidentally unwelcoming.

He was polite. He knew he was polite.

But polite and approachable were not the same thing.

Jaehyun scrunched his nose, sniffing the cold air at his response. “Yeah, I guess he was wrong.”

Dongmin’s head snapped in Jaehyun’s direction, his mouth agape exaggeratedly. “Excuse me?”

“I mean… You said it!” Jaehyun fought to keep a straight face. “And you haven’t been very funny in the past 3 minutes that we’ve been talking.” He teased, flashing the time on his phone.

“We’ve literally been talking for 3 minutes. What do you want from me?” Dongmin complained.

Jaehyun laughed, a bright sound that made the air feel lighter.

“He’s not very good at human interaction.” Sungho interrupted with a grin. “If you haven’t noticed already.”

Jaehyun chuckled, “Yeah. Seems like a problem.”

“I’m right here,” Dongmin said, rolling his eyes sarcastically.

Across the circle, Donghyun caught the corner of Dongmin’s mouth betraying him—a half-smile threatening to surface.

Donghyun’s eyes narrowed knowingly.

Dongmin saw it. Shot him a glare. Heat crept into his cheeks.

He didn’t like it. But he didn’t hate it either.

 Week 2, Wednesday 

Dongmin and Donghyun sat in the back row of their philosophy class— the unofficial territory of the uninterested and the overconfident. The professor’s voice droned on about existentialism, chalk tapping rhythmically against the board.

Dongmin’s pen moved steadily across his notebook.

He was not taking notes.

“You met the new guy, right?” Donghyun leaned back in his chair, balancing it dangerously on two legs, grin already forming like he’d been waiting to bring this up.

Dongmin didn’t look up. “Who?”

“Jaehyun,” Donghyun said, nudging his elbow. “Don’t act clueless.”

Dongmin crossed his arms slowly, the movement deliberate. “He’s… loud.”

Donghyun snorted. “We’re all loud.”

A pause.

“Okay,” he amended. “Most of us are loud. But isn’t he super friendly?”

Dongmin’s jaw shifted slightly. “Friendly is subjective.”

“Unlike you,” Donghyun added brightly.

“I’m great with people,” Dongmin replied, tone flat enough to freeze water.

“Right,” Donghyun said, mock-serious now. “That’s why you look like you’re being held hostage in every group photo.”

Dongmin shot him a sharp look. “I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

Donghyun grinned wider. “I bet you’re just annoyed he’s shaking up your precious little circle.”

Dongmin tucked his notebook closer to his chest like it needed protection. “Not really.”

“You hesitated.”

“I didn’t.”

“You absolutely did.”

Dongmin exhaled slowly. “I’m just not a fan of sudden additions.”

Donghyun blinked. Then burst out laughing. “That’s literally the same thing.”

“It’s not.”

“It is. You just don’t have social skills at your big age.”

Dongmin’s head turned slowly, eyes narrowing. “That is absolutely not it.”

“Uh-huh,” Donghyun said, sing-song. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Dongmin rolled his eyes and redirected his attention to the professor, who was now passionately arguing that authenticity required discomfort. The irony was not lost on him.

He scribbled something in the margin of his notebook:

Sudden additions disrupt equilibrium.

He stared at the sentence for a second longer than necessary.

Jaehyun unsettled him.

Not in a threatening way. Not in an annoying way, exactly. Just… in a way that made him aware. A kind of presence that bent the air slightly when it entered a room. Easy laughter. Open posture. The kind of person who talked with his whole body.

Dongmin didn’t like variables.

He had learned early that attention was slippery. People drifted toward him easily—drawn to the quiet, mistaking it for mystery. He knew the pattern. A glance held too long. A seat taken without permission. A question that lingered.

He was, objectively, easy on the eyes.

And that made people bold.

He preferred fewer connections. Steady ones. Predictable ones. The kind that didn’t demand anything sudden.

“You’re always so quiet,” a girl said, sliding into the empty seat beside Dongmin without asking. “It’s kind of intimidating.”

Dongmin glanced up from his notes. “Is it?”

She laughed, a little too quick. “Yeah. It feels like you’re judging everyone.”

“I’m really not,” Dongmin said, then looked back down.

She lingered anyway, filling the silence with commentary about the professor, the workload, the people in the room. Dongmin nodded where politeness required it, offered a response when directly addressed, but didn’t open the door further.

After a few minutes, the girl sighed. “Okay, wow. Tough crowd.”

Dongmin didn’t correct her. When she eventually moved on, the quiet settled back into place, familiar and unbothered. 

He was used with the routine that came with new encounters, but the way Jaehyun had literally spawned in the midst of his circle was new. A twinge of discomfort settled in the back of his mind. Although he could tell the guy wasn’t after him or anything. Just the thought of him made Dongmin shift in his seat.

Week 2, Saturday 

The weekend came faster than Dongmin expected. There was a party was off-campus, in a house that looked like it had survived three generations of students and none of their security deposits. Music thumped through the walls before they even reached the front door, bass rattling the windows, warm light spilling onto the lawn where clusters of people hovered with red cups and cigarettes.  Dongmin arrived with the group, sliding into their usual rhythm as they moved through the crowded living room. He was having a good time, laughing when Sungho recounted a ridiculous story about a failed attempt at karaoke. He teased Woonhak for nearly spilling his drink.

Dongmin smiled faintly, letting himself be carried along, laughing where appropriate, teasing where possible. He didn’t feel pressured by the crowd—he knew how to handle attention. He knew what he wanted, and he only gave it to the people he cared about.

Hours passed. He laughed, danced a little, and even talked with strangers without losing control of himself. But as the night wore on and the group started splitting into smaller clusters—the backyard, the kitchen, corners of the living room—Dongmin found himself on a couch, jacket pulled tighter around him. The bass vibrated under his legs, the warm chatter washing over him like a tide.

Then he noticed Jaehyun.

Halfway through the night, Jaehyun appeared, magnetic as always, weaving through the crowd with that grin that made the air feel lighter, pulling people into stories and laughter.

Dongmin let himself watch for a moment, amused and vaguely exhausted from keeping up.

A shadow fell across the edge of the couch.

“Hey… mind if I sit here?” a guy asked, leaning closer than necessary, hand resting casually on the back of the couch. Cute. Tall. Not Dongmin’s problem tonight.

“I’m fine,” Dongmin said evenly, calm but firm.

The guy smirked. “C’mon, you look bored here by yourself.”

Dongmin’s instinct was to retreat, but before he could, a familiar voice cut through—casual, sharp:

“Hey! That’s my spot.”

Jaehyun appeared beside him, as if he had been there the whole time. He pouted playfully, hand resting near Dongmin’s shoulder—not crowding, just staking a quiet claim.

The guy blinked, grinned, and then, seeing their casual disinterest, muttered, “Oh… okay,” and stepped back.

Dongmin exhaled slowly. “Thanks,” he said, still not looking directly at Jaehyun.

“No problem,” Jaehyun said, plopping onto the couch with just enough space between them. He nudged Dongmin lightly with his elbow. “I wasn’t about to let some random guy ruin your night. You were having fun already.”

Dongmin allowed himself a small smile. “I usually handle it myself.”

Jaehyun chuckled softly. “Sure… but it’s easier this way. Guess it’s tough being so hot.”

Dongmin raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, a bit…”

“Not very humble,” Jaehyun teased, grinning.

“You’re the one who said I was hot,” Dongmin shot back, lips twitching into a smile.

Jaehyun’s grin softened, suddenly aware he’d sounded too much like the guy he’d just chased off. “Just so you know—I’m not here to bug you,” he said, voice quieter, sincere. “I just like sitting here with you. Tell me if you want space, and I can go.”

Dongmin studied him, surprised by the genuineness. “I’m fine,” he said softly. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the party, but he let himself relax.

Jaehyun nudged a pillow toward him. “Good. Then I’ll stay. Quietly. Mostly.”

Dongmin felt something inside him ease. All the calculations he’d made about space, boundaries, and social energy melted away. Because Jaehyun made it so easy.

Too easy.

Week 3

In the days that followed, Dongmin started noticing Jaehyun.

Not intentionally. Not in some cinematic, slow-motion way.

Just… inconveniently.

The way your brain quietly files someone under important without asking for permission.

He noticed Jaehyun’s laugh first.

It wasn’t particularly refined — sometimes too loud, sometimes bordering on obnoxious — but it had this contagious lift to it. Even when the joke was mediocre, even when it barely deserved a smile, people laughed anyway. Not at the joke.

At him.

Jaehyun laughed with his whole body. Shoulders shaking. Head thrown back. Eyes squeezed shut like he didn’t care who was watching.

Dongmin watched.

He noticed how Jaehyun fit everywhere. It wasn’t forced. He didn’t mold himself to match people — he just… fit. Like there was always room for him. Conversations seemed to recognize him on arrival. Professors softened. Strangers brightened. Classmates shifted unconsciously to make space.

Their friends were good at socializing too — Donghyun steady and charming, Sungho sharp and witty, Woonhak animated enough for three people, and Sanghyuk quiet but deceptively good at steering — but Jaehyun operated on something else entirely.

Three weeks into the semester and he moved through campus like he’d built it.

Dongmin saw it in fragments throughout the day.

A casual chat with an older professor that turned into laughter echoing down the hall.
An impromptu dance-off with people they absolutely did not know — wildly embarrassing, yet somehow magnetic. A full-blown debate in the cafeteria with a group of girls about the best lip balm at the corner store, Jaehyun gesturing passionately like it was a life-or-death issue.

He relished it.

Every interaction looked like something he genuinely wanted to be part of. No hesitation. No visible battery drain. Just bright, endless engagement.

Dongmin found himself staring more than he meant to.

There was something almost admirable about that level of extroversion. Jaehyun carried energy like a second bloodstream — warm, constant, circulating outward. A bottomless pit hidden somewhere behind his ribs.

It fascinated him.

Dongmin would never aspire to that level. Absolutely not. Watching Jaehyun for a single afternoon was exhausting enough. He couldn’t imagine living like that — drifting into conversations, anchoring nowhere, belonging everywhere.

Dongmin knew his space. He had carved it carefully over the years — deliberate, controlled. Edges defined.

And yet.

For the first time in a long while, he wondered if letting that space stretch a little wouldn’t ruin him.

Watching Jaehyun move through the world made it look… manageable.

Maybe even safe.

And that was dangerous.

That evening, the sky was wide and dark, stars scattered faintly above the campus buildings. The group slowly disbanded after a small dorm gathering, laughter thinning into distant echoes as people peeled off toward their rooms.

Dongmin lingered.

He leaned against a lamppost, letting the soft amber light blur the edges of the night. The air was cool, brushing against his face. Voices drifted farther away. Doors shut. Footsteps faded.

He exhaled.

“Hi.”

Jaehyun jogged up beside him, backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, hair slightly messy from the wind. He looked… soft under the streetlight. Less electric. More real.

“You heading back?”

Dongmin nodded. “Yeah.”

“Mind company?”

There it was again — that easy assumption that he’d be welcome.

Dongmin didn’t answer immediately. He adjusted his grip inside his hoodie pocket, pretending to consider it.

Then he shrugged. “Sure.”

They fell into step together.

Their shoes crunched quietly against the pavement. For a moment, neither spoke. It wasn’t uncomfortable — just unclaimed.

Jaehyun broke it first, laughing under his breath. “Did you see Woonhak’s face when the music cut out? I swear he thought he was about to debut.”

Dongmin huffed a quiet laugh.

“And Sungho almost took out the snack table. I had to physically grab him.”

Jaehyun reenacted it mid-walk, nearly stumbling again, grin wide and unashamed.

Dongmin watched him from the corner of his eye.

The way his hands moved when he talked. The slight crease near his eyes when he smiled. The way he walked close enough that their sleeves brushed once — light, accidental — and Jaehyun didn’t pull away.

His voice was steady tonight. Not performing. Not amplifying. Just warm. Filling the dark naturally.

Dongmin realized something slowly, almost reluctantly.

He wasn’t bracing.

He wasn’t calculating responses in advance.
Wasn’t monitoring his tone.
Wasn’t searching for an exit or measuring the distance between them.

He was just… walking.

Listening.

Letting Jaehyun fill the space without feeling crowded by it.

By the time they passed the last lamppost before the dorm entrance, Dongmin felt something shift in his chest.

This was too easy.

He wasn’t used to letting someone in this quickly. It usually took months — careful layering, slow trust, quiet observation before comfort settled in.

But with Jaehyun?

A couple of weeks of almost-daily proximity and it already felt…

Normal.

He glanced over.

Jaehyun was still talking, smiling mid-sentence, unaware of the way Dongmin was looking at him — not analyzing now, not measuring.

Admiring.

There was something steady beneath all that brightness. Something intentional. Jaehyun didn’t just float through people — he noticed them. Remembered things. Adjusted gently.

He made space.

Dongmin swallowed.

Maybe that was why it didn’t feel suffocating.

Maybe that was why it worked.

He let out a quiet breath and a small smile slipped free before he could stop it.

Yeah.

This worked.

And the fact that it did — that he wanted it to — might have been the most unsettling thing of all.

Jaehyun woke up tired in the best possible way: too much laughter and too little sleep still buzzing in his head. Then his alarm rang. Unfair. He slapped it and stared at the ceiling as his roommate muttered something about a missing sock.

Yesterday had been fun. That part was obvious. Jaehyun rolled onto his side, checking his phone. A group chat he’d somehow already been added to was active. Sanghyuk sending a blurry photo from the night before, Woonhak complaining about how sore his arms were, Donghyun replying with something sarcastic and too long.

Jaehyun smiled. New people, new routines. He liked that feeling. The early stages, when everything felt loose and open, when you didn’t have to think too hard about where you fit because no one else had figured it out yet either.

On his way across campus, coffee in hand, he replayed bits of the last few days without meaning to. Not in a focused way, just flashes. The grass circle. The party. How easy it had been to slip into the group like he’d always been there. Most people had warmed up fast.

Dongmin hadn’t.

That wasn’t a complaint, exactly. Jaehyun had met plenty of quiet people. He knew how to give space, how to let conversations breathe. Still, there was something about Dongmin that stuck out. Not because he was distant, but because he wasn’t. He stayed. He listened. He just didn’t lean in the way everyone else did.

Jaehyun frowned slightly, dodging around a cluster of students. It wasn’t that Dongmin didn’t like him. Jaehyun didn’t get that impression. Just… undecided. That pause made him more interesting. And for someone used to being quickly accepted, or at least quickly understood, that uncertainty was mildly unsettling.

Dongmin was funny, too. Quietly so. The kind of person who dropped one comment at exactly the right moment and then acted like he hadn’t.

And yeah— Dongmin was pretty. So was everyone in the group, honestly. Jaehyun had noticed that immediately. It wasn’t something he lingered on. Totally normal. Just a passing, factual observation, like noting someone had good posture or a nice smile.

Later, when the group met up again, as they inevitably would. Jaehyun already knew he’d sit near Dongmin if there was space. Not to push. Not to interrogate.

Just to see.

To see if today would be the day Dongmin relaxed a little more. Or if Jaehyun would need to get better at waiting. Either way, Jaehyun was having fun. New friends, easy nights, a group that felt like it could become something solid.

Even if not everyone was quite on the same page yet.

By late afternoon, the group reconvened on the quad, unplanned but inevitable. Bags dropped, laughs rising, the chaos settling into a comfortably.

Sungho arrived first, dramatically flopping onto the ground like he’d run a marathon. “I swear, whoever designed this campus hates students.”

“You say that every day,” Sanghyuk said, handing him a drink anyway.

Woonhak showed up next, immediately complaining. “Why is everyone already tired? It’s barely four.”

Jaehyun jogged up behind him, nearly tripping over a backpack strap. “Because some of us are emotionally exhausted from being in high demand.”

Donghyun snorted. “You’ve been here less than a month.”

“And it’s been a very intense month,” Jaehyun replied seriously, dropping down beside Sungho.

Dongmin arrived last.

He hovered for a second at the edge of the group, scanning for an open spot. Jaehyun noticed immediately. He shifted his bag without thinking, making space beside him.

Dongmin hesitated, then sat. Jaehyun didn’t comment on it. He counted that as a win anyway.

“So,” Donghyun said, stretching out on his back, hands laced behind his head. “Who wants to hear my theory about why people always get lost on this campus?”

“No,” Woonhak and Sungho said in unison.

Donghyun ignored them. “It’s the angles. None of the buildings align logically. It messes with your sense of direction.”

Jaehyun leaned toward Dongmin, lowering his voice just enough. “See? This is what I walked into.”

Dongmin huffed before he could stop himself, quickly covering it with a cough.

Jaehyun caught it out of the corner of his eye and fought the urge to react. He stayed where he was, leaning back on his hands, letting the group’s noise wash over them.

At one point, Jaehyun leaned over to grab his water bottle and accidentally bumped Dongmin’s knee.

“Sorry,” he said automatically.

“It’s fine,” Dongmin replied, not pulling away.

That, too, felt like progress.

As the sun dipped lower and the light softened, Jaehyun stretched and glanced around the circle. Everyone looked comfortable. Even Dongmin. Still reserved, but present.
Jaehyun smiled to himself, small and satisfied.

Maybe this was just how some people worked.

Slow. Measured. Careful.

Jaehyun could work with that.

 Week 4

Four weeks into the semester, the grass circle had turned into a landmark.

By mid-afternoon, it drew people in like gravity. A couple of students wandered over first — hesitant at the edges, scanning for someone they recognized. Jaehyun spotted them instantly.

He snapped his fingers once. “Hey! Over here.”

That easy smile of his did the rest.

Dongmin watched it happen like it was a magic trick he still couldn’t figure out.

Jaehyun hadn’t meant for it to become a thing — at least, that’s what he claimed — but somehow every casual hangout turned into a soft-launch social event. People came, stayed longer than planned, brought other people. Laughter layered over itself. Conversations branched and merged. The circle expanded.

Dongmin stayed slightly outside of it all, headphones resting around his neck now, notebook abandoned on his lap. He nodded when something genuinely funny hit him. Let out a quiet laugh here and there. But mostly, he observed.

He liked observing.

His friends moved through the current easily — Donghyun chiming in, Sungho cutting through with dry humor, Woonhak animated as ever. And Jaehyun at the center of it. Not dominating. Just… steering. Subtly adjusting tone, shifting topics when energy dipped, looping people back in when they started to fade out.

Dongmin felt it — that strange, steady undercurrent Jaehyun maintained.

Somehow, despite the crowd, he could still breathe.

That was the part he couldn’t understand. Normally this many people would have his shoulders tight, patience thinning, eyes scanning for exits. But Jaehyun managed the chaos like he’d built the room himself. Conversations never spiraled too loud, never leaned too far away from the group.

How did he do that?

The sun dipped lower, gold slicing through the trees and catching in people’s hair. Faces changed as some left and new ones slipped in. Jaehyun welcomed each arrival like they’d been expected all along. Waved goodbye with that same warmth.

Dongmin felt half a beat behind the rhythm of it all — slightly out of sync.

And yet.

It had been… fun.

There was something quietly satisfying about watching people fit together, watching social chemistry unfold in real time. He didn’t need to be in the center to enjoy it. Just close enough to feel the pull without being dragged under.

People don’t change that easily, he reminded himself.

He liked his edges. His margins. The safe distance.

Still.

A small smirk tugged at his lips.

He didn’t want to jump in.

But he was curious.

Curious about the way Jaehyun gathered people without effort. Curious about how someone like him — someone who preferred quiet corners — fit into that orbit.

For once, the thought didn’t tighten his chest.

Maybe tomorrow, he’d sit a little closer.

The next afternoon, the sunlight felt softer. Warmer. The air carried coffee and cut grass, sweet and grounding.

The group was already there.

Jaehyun spotted Dongmin immediately and lifted a hand, sheepish smile in place. “About yesterday…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry for all the people crowding around us. I didn’t mean to hijack our hangout.”

Donghyun shrugged. “It’s fine. We had fun.”

Sungho snorted. “Fun, yeah. Exhausting? Also yes. How do you even know that many people?”

Dongmin nodded a little too enthusiastically. Finally. Validation.

“And I thought I had energy,” Woonhak added. “I swear you were talking to five people at once.”

Jaehyun giggled — actually giggled. His shoulders rising as he scrunched his nose.

Sanghyuk leaned back on his hands. “Must be hard being popular.”

“Not really.” Jaehyun tilted his head. “As long as you guys are okay with it.” His voice softened. “I like spending time with you the most.”

A collective groan rose instantly.

“Awwww.”

“Disgusting.”

“Shut up.”

Dongmin sighed dramatically. “You’re such a sap.”

One month. That’s all it had taken to confirm it.

Jaehyun was an unapologetic sap.

In four weeks, he’d told them he loved them at least five times. Meant it every time. Said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Dongmin had grown more comfortable around him, sure — but that didn’t mean he understood the buttery sincerity.

The thought alone made him shiver.

“Wow,” Jaehyun pressed a hand to his chest. “We were having a moment.”

Dongmin rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

Jaehyun glanced toward the café down the block, sunlight flashing briefly in his eyes. “Do you guys want to grab drinks inside today?”

Sungho raised a brow. “You mean go somewhere random people won’t swarm you?”

Jaehyun slid his hands into his pockets, smiling shyly. “Yeah. That.”

Dongmin stood when the others did, falling into step beside them.

The conversation bounced around him again — lighter this time, contained. Their group’s rhythm, familiar and easy.

The café door chimed as Jaehyun reached it first, holding it open with a small flourish. Warm air wrapped around them — coffee, sugar, something cinnamon-heavy.

Jaehyun looked back at them, eyes bright.

And this time, Dongmin didn’t hover at the edge.

He stepped in right behind him.

“Alright, table in the corner. Prime people-watching spot without… actual people watching.”

Sanghyuk leaned back, scanning the menu. “Do they have those giant muffins?”

Woonhak immediately brightened. “If they do, I call dibs.”

Dongmin slid into the empty chair at the end of the table, his eyes flicking between Jaehyun animatedly talking about the café’s latte art and Woonhak waving at a passing barista.

Jaehyun leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “So, just us today. Sound good?”

Dongmin grinned. “Best idea you’ve had all week.”

The group waved down a barista and placed their orders; lattes, cappuccinos, a giant muffin for Woonhak, and a few pastries scattered around. Within minutes, drinks and snacks arrived, and the table filled with the warm scent of coffee and sugar.

He was feeling giddy at the thought of having someone to discuss his hobby with. His friends always listened to him go on about his music and vinyls, but they were either too broke to indulge or not interested enough to pursue. And it was starting to seem like Jaehyun was neither of those.

On the way home, Jaehyun caught himself thinking about his weekend plans. Dongmin’s voice, calm and matter-of-fact, when he said, I usually go alone. The way he said it like it wasn’t a complaint, just a fact. It made Jaehyun pause for a second longer than usual, noticing the quiet certainty in how Dongmin carried himself.

Jaehyun didn’t push it. He was used to letting things be what they were instead of trying to twist them into meaning.

He noticed Dongmin’s subtle boundaries. the way he lingered on the edge, spoke only when he wanted, never filled the space unless he chose to. Lately, though, Dongmin had started talking more, laughing a little louder, lingering a little longer with the group since Jaehyun had started showing up. Not because he was being pulled in, but because he began seeming comfortable enough to step forward on his own.

And now, here was a quiet extension of that: a willingness to share something personal.

For the first time in a while, he felt something different from his usual easy attachments. Most connections came quickly for him—spark, laugh, shared moment, done.

This one felt slower.

Dongmin wasn’t someone to collect.

He was someone to understand.

And that made Jaehyun curious in a way he couldn’t quite name.

Not the loud kind of curiosity. Not the playful kind.

The steady kind.

The kind that makes you look forward to a weekend plan more than you probably should.

Week 4

In the days leading up to the weekend, Dongmin didn’t spiral about the plan, which was how he knew something was up. Normally, anything involving another person and a set time came with a low-level urge to bail. Not panic, exactly. Just a steady background thought of I could simply not. But this time, the thought never really showed up. Instead, the record shop kept popping into his head at odd moments. While waiting for class to start, while zoning out during dinner, walking along the street. Not in a nervous way or anything. He was secretly kind of excited.

He went to the shop once by himself during the week. Told himself it was routine. It mostly was. Still, he caught himself thinking, Jaehyun would probably ask about this one, and immediately frowned at the thought.

It occurred to him, sometime around Thursday, that he’d been the one to suggest it. Not “we should go sometime” in a vague, noncommittal way, but actually offering. He hadn’t even second-guessed it afterward.

And then there was the other thing: He’d warmed up fast. Not just relaxed, but warmed. Like the toasty feeling by the fireplace. It was faster than usual, faster than he trusted. The fact itself wasn’t alarming, but it lingered in the back of his mind, quiet and insistent.

When the day came, Dongmin showed up right on time, hands tucked into his coat pockets, posture loose. He stood near the corner of the block where the record shop sat. It was half-hidden between a bakery and a tailor, its faded awning drooping slightly at one end. He didn’t pace. He just waited, watching a leaf skid across the sidewalk in the wind.

Jaehyun arrived with the soft rush of movement, quick steps slowing when he spotted Dongmin. He lifted a hand in a small wave, slightly sheepish, like he hadn’t known what kind of greeting to commit to.

The record shop was quiet in the way Dongmin liked. The bell over the door chimed softly when he pushed it open, the sound familiar enough that his shoulders relaxed unknowingly.

Jaehyun stepped in behind him and paused, eyes adjusting. Dongmin caught himself observing the way Jaehyun moved. He felt a small, strange pull in his chest.

“Smells like… dust and coffee?” Jaehyun murmured. “In a good way.”

“Paper sleeves,” Dongmin corrected. “And time.”

Jaehyun laughed under his breath, clearly pleased by that. “You say things like that on purpose?”

“I’m just stating facts,” he replied cheekily.

”Hmmm. So this is what time smells like?”

Dongmin shrugged, “I guess so.” 

Jaehyun giggled quietly, and the tug in Dongmin’s chest settled somewhere between amusement and surprise. Maybe he’d just been starved for a hobby-mate.

They moved through the narrow aisles at Dongmin’s pace. He crouched by the crates automatically, fingers sliding along the spines, barely reading titles unless something caught his eye. Jaehyun paid attention in a way that felt intentional, like he’d decided this mattered because Dongmin did.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “I get why you like this place.”

Dongmin glanced back. “You’ve been inside for ten seconds.”

“Still counts.”

Dongmin huffed a breath that might’ve been a laugh and moved toward the crates. He crouched easily, fingers already flipping through records. “Looking for anything specific?”

“Nope,” Jaehyun said casually. “No idea what I’m doing.”

Dongmin scoffed or maybe laughed as he nudged a crate slightly closer to Jaehyun with his knee. “Try this section.”

Jaehyun did, pulling records free and asking what Dongmin thought, not to be polite, but because he actually wanted the answer. Dongmin gave short opinions, nothing dramatic, just honest. Sometimes Jaehyun disagreed, and Dongmin found he didn’t mind. It was easy, this back-and-forth. They talked about the bands, the song compositions, vinyl covers— anything and everything that caught their eye in the shop.

Jaehyun was surprisingly well versed and Dongmin was once again mesmerised by his social skills. The way carried himself, the conversation, the way he conveyed his genuine interest. It was comfortable and easy. The way he made Dongmin’s opinions matter. Though Dongmin knew he was the more knowledgeable one, Jaehyun was quick witted when it came to analyzing whatever they were talking about. Dongmin was having fun.

After a while, Jaehyun straightened, holding two records. “Help me choose.”

Dongmin followed to the listening station. His fingers lingered on a familiar sleeve, edges softened from use, before pulling it from Jaehyun’s hand. “This one.”

When they finally stepped back outside, the light felt cleaner, the afternoon softer, easier to breathe in.

“Thanks for bringing me,” Jaehyun said, adjusting the bag in his hands.

Dongmin nodded. “You didn’t make it weird.”

“High praise.” Jaehyun grinned.

As they took a few steps down the sidewalk, Jaehyun stopped. “Wait.”

He turned back toward the shop, already halfway there. “I forgot something.”

Dongmin frowned faintly, watching him disappear inside. A minute passed. Then another.

When Jaehyun came back out, he was holding a much smaller bag.

“You forgot…?” Dongmin prompted.

Jaehyun held it out. “This.”

Inside was a single record. Not obscure, but not obvious either. Something Dongmin had paused on earlier, fingers lingering just long enough to register.

Dongmin stared at it. “You didn’t forget that.”

Jaehyun shrugged, suddenly a little sheepish. “I remembered it later.”

Dongmin didn’t say anything for a moment. The familiar urge to deflect rose—and passed.

“You didn’t have to,” he said.

“I wanted to,” Jaehyun said simply.

“…Thanks,” he said, quieter than before.

Jaehyun smiled, softer this time and they started walking again, side by side. Dongmin found himself replaying the time in the shop. The feeling of it. The way his interests had been treated like something worth tending to.

It wasn’t that Dongmin’s friends didn’t do that. They did, in their own ways. They listened. They showed up. But with Jaehyun, the attention felt… angled differently. Less familiar. Somehow. He didn’t know.

Maybe it was because Jaehyun was new…Yet somehow not. He’d slipped into the same mental space Dongmin reserved for his friends with ease, past the usual distance, as if he’d always belonged there.

Or maybe it was because Jaehyun was so pretty. Distractingly so, in a way Dongmin didn’t usually dwell on. Soft lines, open expressions, a face that made people want to look a second longer.

Either way, there was still something about Jaehyun that sat slightly apart from the others. Not better. Not closer. Just… offset, like a familiar thing seen from a different angle.

He didn’t try to name what that meant.

He just let himself keep it.

They walked back toward campus together, the bag swinging lightly at Dongmin’s side. Jaehyun started talking almost immediately. About the record he’d picked, then about a class he couldn’t stand, then about something mildly ridiculous someone had said earlier that week. 

Jaehyun talked with his hands, sleeves of his oversized knit brushing his wrists, the late afternoon light catching in his hair. His face was open in motion; bright when he laughed, thoughtful when he paused to search for the right word.

Dongmin listened. His reactions came without effort. A brief lift of his eyebrows, a soft huff of amusement, a glance sideways that lingered before he caught himself and looked ahead again.

They kept walking toward campus, but somewhere between the next intersection and the familiar stretch of sidewalk, Jaehyun veered off without much warning.

“There’s a place over here,” he said, already halfway down the side street. “It’s cheap, and they don’t mind if you eat outside.”

Dongmin paused before following. “You planned this?”

Jaehyun laughed softly. “Not really. Just kind of going with it.”

They stopped at a small shop for snacks, ended up on a park bench, sharing paper bags and casual conversation. Dongmin laughed more freely than usual. Jaehyun gestured, talked, laughed, thought aloud, all in the way that made the space between them feel smaller, warmer. Jaehyun nodded toward the park across the street. The trees were still full, late afternoon sun filtering through in soft patches.

“Shortcut,” he said.

Dongmin didn’t argue.

They took the long way without even noticing it. Gravel crunched underfoot, the air cooler beneath the shade. They claimed an empty bench near the edge of the lawn. Jaehyun spread the food between them, passing things over without ceremony.

“This is good,” Dongmin said eventually.

Jaehyun beamed like he’d cooked it himself. “Told you.”

They talked around the food, the park, the day, things that didn’t need opinions or expertise. Jaehyun kicked lightly at the gravel with his heel.

“You having a good time?” he asked cautiously. “Not tired?”

Dongmin shrugged. “Of course, me getting tired depends on the person.”

“Figures,” Jaehyun said. “You’re picky.”

“Yeah, a little.”

Jaehyun laughed. “Guess I’m lucky you like me.”

“Yeah, it usually takes me a while to get comfortable.” Dongmin chuckled. “You just kind of spawned out of nowhere.”

“It’s been four weeks.” Jaehyun gasped.

Dongmin raised a brow. “And it’s been four weeks too fast. If I were going my normal pace we would’ve scheduled to do this by next year.”

Jaehyun groaned. “Ugh. Why would you say it like that? Just say that you like me.”

Dongmin laughed, he covered his face as his eyes crinkled into crescents. “Sure.”

When Dongmin realized he was smiling at Jaehyun, chest warm and restless in an unfamiliar way, he didn’t think to stop it. There was a warmth creeping up to his ears. His heart rate ticked up without reason. It was just the afternoon, the music, the quiet… and yet he realized he wanted it to last a little longer.

They walked back toward campus without much urgency. The sky had started to fade into softer colors, the sidewalks warm from the day. Jaehyun swung the paper bag with the LP at his side, careful when he stepped off the curb.

“So,” Jaehyun said, “do I need special instructions for this thing?”

Dongmin tilted his head. “You mean listening to it?”

“Yeah. I feel like you have rules.”

“I don’t have rules.”

“You absolutely have rules.”

“Okay, personal suggestions.” Dongmin thought about it, then asked, “Do you even have a player?”

“Yep! A friend gave it to me a while ago.”

Dongmin chuckled, “Of course they did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jaehyun pouted.

“Anyways—“ Dongmin smirked as he ignored him. “I’ll send you a link on how to use it.”

They slowed as they reached the corner where their paths split.

“If it sounds bad,” Jaehyun said, “I’m blaming you.”

Dongmin just chuckled. “Okay.”

They stood there for half a second longer than necessary.

“Uh, I’ll text you when I listen,” Jaehyun said.

“Okay,” Dongmin replied. “Just tell me which part you liked.”

“Sure.” Jaehyun nodded, like that was a reasonable assignmentt. “Thanks for bringing me. I had fun.”

“Yeah,” Dongmin replied. “Me too.”

“See you tomorrow?” Jaehyun asked.

“Yeah.”

Jaehyun lifted the bag in a small, exaggerated wave and turned down his street. Dongmin watched him go, smiling faintly, feeling lighter, warmer. And for the first time in a long while, he was a little impatient for tomorrow to come.

Once inside his apartment, he finally unlocked his phone. A long string of missed notifications blinked at him. Sungho asking why he hadn’t replied, Donghyun sending a string of emojis, Woonhak wondering if he was ignoring everyone. While he was scrolling through his phone buzzed. A new message from Sungho popped up:

Sungho: “dude… answer me. you alive?”

Then his phone buzzed again.

Jaehyun: “hey! next time you pick where we hang out. okay?”

Dongmin stared at the screen, a quiet smile tugging at his lips.

He typed back quickly, a grin spreading:

Sure. Don’t make it boring.

Week 5

It was a warm Monday morning. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting long rectangles of warmth across the wooden floor. The café smelled faintly of roasted coffee and warm pastries, the low hum of conversation from other tables mixing with the occasional clink of cups. By the time Dongmin arrived, the table by the windows was almost empty, the corner spot he liked catching the best light.

Donghyun was already there, drumming lightly on the tabletop, headphones hanging uselessly around his neck. Sanghyuk sat across from him, stirring his drink with slow concentration.

“You’re early,” Donghyun said, squinting at Dongmin. “ That’s suspicious.”

Dongmin sat in the corner. “You say that every time.”

“And one day I’ll be right.”

“You look awake.” Sanghyuk glanced up.

“Thank you?” Dongmin said.

“Did something happen yesterday?”

“No?”

Sanghyuk smiled into his cup. “That sounded suspicious.”

Dongmin opened his mouth to argue, then stopped. “I went to the record store,” he said instead.

Donghyun’s eyes lit up. “With who?”

“Jaehyun.”

“Ah,” Sanghyuk said, nodding like that explained everything.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Dongmin added. “We just looked around.”

“Mm-hm,” Donghyun said.

“What.”

Before Donghyun could respond, Sungho appeared, already laughing about something that hadn’t happened yet. Woonhak trailed behind him, loud and animated, immediately dropping into the seat next to Dongmin.

“Hyung,” Woonhak said, bumping his shoulder.

“Why weren’t you answering messages?”

Dongmin nudged him away. “I was busy.”

“Busy doing what?”

”Stuff.”

Donghyun snorted. Sanghyuk hid his smile.

The table filled quickly, voices overlapping, chairs scraping, laughter rising. Dongmin settled into it easily, feeling the warmth of familiarity. Jaehyun slid into the seat across from him, drink in hand, catching the room mid-laugh. Dongmin’s chest shifted slightly —small, almost imperceptible.

Woonhak flopped back in his chair, dramatically crossing his arms. “I swear, I was calm. Very CALMLY explaining that my throw was TOTALLY IN.”

Sungho elbowed him lightly. “Sure. Calm enough to scream, cry, and terrorize innocent bystanders.”

“I wish I was there to see that.” Jaehyun chuckled.

“Why weren’t you?” Sungho leaned over, grinning.

“I went to the record shop with Dongmin!” Jaehyun answered easily.

“Did you survive Dongmin’s vinyl obsession?”

Jaehyun held up the bag proudly. “Actually, it was pretty great. He picked this one out for me, and it’s, I don’t know, kind of perfect.”

Donghyun rolled his eyes, still drumming his fingers on the table. “Uh-huh. We’ve heard all about Dongmin’s records a thousand times already.”

Dongmin shrugged, not offended. “It’s fine. I know you guys aren’t into it.”

Jaehyun leaned forward, animated. “It’s not just the music. It’s the little things… The way the songs flow, the tiny imperfections, the pauses. It’s cool!”

Woonhak groaned and flopped back in his chair. “Oh great. Poetry time. Can we eat already?”

Sungho laughed. “You sound like Dongmin—

you actually liked it?”

”Yeah! I really like these kind of things.”

Donghyun blinked once. “Since when?”

Jaehyun shrugged, unfazed. “Since always?”

Woonhak squinted at him. “You write poems, don’t you.”

“No,” Jaehyun said quickly. Then after a beat. “Okay, sometimes. But that’s not the point.”

Sungho laughed. “I guess you have been a sappy guy since day one.”

“I was already curious,” Jaehyun ignored the comment and continued. “Dongmin just explained it really well.”

That same quiet lift returned in Dongmin’s chest, subtle and restrained. Just enough to revel in the simple joy of having a welcomed addition in his circle.

The conversation shifted, as it always did. Someone complained about a professor. Someone else brought up an upcoming deadline. Dongmin leaned back, listening, chiming in when he felt like it. Every so often, his gaze flicked across the table without him meaning it to. Jaehyun caught his eye once and smiled, small and quick, like it was just for him. Dongmin looked away almost immediately, but the corner of his mouth lifted despite himself.

Eventually, the table thinned. Donghyun and Woonhak left for the library, Sungho lingered long enough to tease them both, Sanghyuk trailing behind.

Jaehyun nudged Dongmin’s leg with his foot under the table. They kept talking for a bit. Someone laughed nearby. A breeze kicked dust across the steps. At some point, Jaehyun checked his phone, then set it back down.

“We’re gonna be late if we don’t move.”

Dongmin glanced over. “We don’t have to yet.”

Jaehyun smiled. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Dongmin leaned back, stretching his legs out. “I don’t mind.”

The answer came easily. They stayed. Dongmin started talking again. Not about the record this time, just whatever came to mind. A class he’d been half-annoyed by. A professor who went off on tangents. Something he’d overheard in the hallway earlier that made no sense. Nothing important. And somehow, that made it matter more.

“You’re chatty today,” Jaehyun said lightly.

Dongmin shot him a look. “Is that bad?”

“No,” Jaehyun said. “I like it.”

Dongmin looked away, but he didn’t stop talking.  He’d settled into a steady rhythm when he was with Jaehyun. A similar one to when he spent time with the other boys, but somehow it wasn’t completely the same. His chest lifted, he was giddy. Maybe it was the achievement of expanding his social horizons or the fact that Jaehyun liked the LP he picked out. Either way, he just relished in the feeling, not caring what could come next.

They eventually did get up, backpacks slung over shoulders, but they didn’t take the shortest path back. They slowed, drifting closer as they walked, still talking about something inconsequential—a walking track he’d been meaning to go back to, a place off campus with pretty views.

“You’d probably like it,” Dongmin said, then paused. “If you want.”

Jaehyun glanced over. “You inviting me?”

Dongmin shrugged, casual. “Yeah. I guess.”

“I’d like that.” Jaehyun’s smile softened.

“Sometime next week?”

Dongmin nodded once, satisfied, and kept going, launching into another thought without hesitation. Jaehyun listened, happy in a quiet, steady way. He was excited to spend more time with Jaehyun.

 Week 5, Thursday 

A few days later, Dongmin sat in class next to Donghyun, flipping through his notes while the lecture droned on like white noise. Donghyun leaned back, fingers drumming idly on the desk. “So… any big plans this weekend?” His eyes flicked to Dongmin, sharp and teasing.

Dongmin shrugged, tilting his head. “Not really. Why?”

“Hanging out with Jaehyun again?”

“Yeah. Something like that.” He hesitated for a beat, then added casually, “Actually, we’re planning to check out that walking trail by the river. Pretty nice views.”

Donghyun raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. “The one you usually go to alone?”

“Yeah. We get along,” Dongmin said, vague but firm.

“Ahh. I knew it.” Donghyun’s grin widened. “You’ve been charmed.”

“Char…med?” Dongmin blinked, mildly confused.

“He’s totally perfect!” Donghyun held up three fingers for emphasis. “Cute. Smart. Popular. And he chooses to spend time with us.”

Dongmin blinked again. “Um… we’re just friends.”

“Okay,” Donghyun rolled his eyes, leaning back with mock casualness. But the glint in his gaze betrayed him—he’d noticed the smallest shifts in Dongmin’s posture, the subtle lift at the corner of his mouth. Even slow-to-show feelings Dongmin had them, visible if you knew where to look.

Donghyun watched him for a long second, grin slowly turning smug. “You’re thinking about it.”

“I’m not,” Dongmin muttered, eyes dropping to his notebook.

“You are.”

Dongmin exhaled quietly through his nose. For a moment, he considered brushing it off again. But instead, he spoke.

“…He is cute,” he admitted, voice low enough that it barely carried over the lecture. “And smart. And yeah, everyone seems to like him.”

“So,” Donghyun prompted, leaning closer. “You admit it.”

Dongmin’s lips pressed together for a second before a small, almost shy smile tugged at the corner. “I think I’m lucky,” he said honestly. “That he wants to be my friend.”

Donghyun studied him like he was watching a slow sunrise. “You sound suspiciously fond.”

Dongmin rolled his eyes, though he didn’t deny it this time.

“Then can I come too?” Donghyun asked suddenly.

Dongmin hesitated for half a second, then nodded. “Sure. We could invite the others too.”

Something poked at him, a flicker he didn’t name, but he ignored it. It would still be nice. He liked having friends around. He liked that they liked being around him.

From Jaehyun’s perspective, the thought that Dongmin had not only warmed up, but had invited him again was a quiet victory. Every little moment; the casual nudges, the soft smiles, felt like progress. Dongmin was letting him in, bit by bit. He didn’t think about it too hard. He just felt good.

When he found out that everyone else was coming on the hike, Jaehyun’s excitement spiked. The more, the merrier. But there was a small knot of worry too. Dongmin might have preferred it quieter, more private, and Jaehyun didn’t want to crowd that space. Still, when Dongmin glanced at him, relaxed and easy, he added, “It’s fine. I like being with my friends.”

Jaehyun smiled, a little surprised. Somewhere along the way, he’d started to fit. Dongmin treated him the same way he treated the others. It was comforting, and yet it stirred a small, unfamiliar ache. He was excited for the trail, the sunlight, the conversations, the small moments. He was ready. This was going to be good.

Week 5, Saturday

The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of wet leaves and earth. The sun was warm enough to take off a jacket, but not enough to chase away the chill lingering in shaded corners. Jaehyun was already waiting near the campus entrance, hands stuffed casually in his hoodie pockets.

Dongmin arrived a few minutes later, walking slower than usual, almost unconsciously pacing himself to match Jaehyun’s presence.

“Morning!”

“Morning,” Dongmin replied, his voice softer than intended. He cleared his throat, felt the back of his neck heat up slightly, and hoped Jaehyun hadn’t noticed.

“Looks like it’s just the four of us today,” Jaehyun said, nodding toward Donghyun and Sungho, who were approaching a few steps behind. The others hadn’t joined, for some reason, but Dongmin didn’t think much of it.

“So… this trail, huh? Never been here before,” Sungho said, glancing around.

“Yeah, first time for me too,” Donghyun added, looking curious. “I wonder why?” He threw Dongmin a sidelong glance.

“It’s not complicated. Just follow me.” Dongmin interrupted. He started down the path, the familiar crunch of leaves underfoot steadying him.

Jaehyun fell naturally into step beside him, chatting about music and asking about Dongmin’s favorite spots along the path. Each word, each laugh, tugged at something inside Dongmin—a quiet, insistent wanting to linger just a little closer. He told himself it was just friendship, even as his heart betrayed him.

The path wound along the river, sunlight spilling through the trees in shifting patterns, painting patches of gold on the ground.

Sungho ran ahead a few steps, then spun back with a grin. “Bet you can’t catch me!”

Donghyun rolled his eyes but followed anyway, moving faster than he’d intended. “You cheater!”

Jaehyun jogged lightly beside Dongmin, laughing along with them. “I’ll take it easy on you,” he said, nudging Dongmin’s shoulder. “Don’t want to tire you out.”

Dongmin’s chest lifted slightly. “I’m alright,” he said, though his gaze lingered on Jaehyun more than the path.

“I’m younger than you, y’know?” he said teasingly. “Why would I be tired already?”

Jaehyun laughed casually, “Just looking after our pretty princess.”

A flush rose across Dongmin’s cheeks. He grinned, disbelief mixing with warmth.

The trail opened into a clearing by the river. Sunlight danced on the water, leaves drifting lazily in the current. Sungho and Donghyun paused, eyes wide.

Jaehyun nudged Dongmin lightly.

“This is… beautiful.”

“Thought you’d like it.”

Jaehyun turned back to Sungho and Donghyun, chatting with them as easily as he did with Dongmin. He teased Sungho about almost falling on a slippery patch, and laughed with Donghyun about which bird made the weirdest call. Dongmin found himself watching, a subtle ache stirring.

A few minutes passed, the others’ laughter echoing ahead. Sungho and Donghyun had slowed to walk, whispering behind a small rise.

“Did you notice Dongmin?” Sungho

murmured, glancing at their friend. “Like… with Jaehyun?”

Donghyun tilted his head, watching. “Yeah. Look at him. He keeps glancing over.”

Sungho grinned. “So... you think there’s something?”

Donghyun snorted quietly. “Probably. Don’t think Dongmin himself knows, though.”

“This is gonna be interesting.”

Meanwhile, Dongmin smiled at something Jaehyun said, the older boy leaning in to point out a wildflower, laughing at a joke he hadn’t even heard properly. He wanted to stay close, savoring the easy warmth of this friendship.

The sun climbed higher, warming the trail, as the group slowed near a bend. Sungho and Donghyun tossed stones into the river.

“Hey… I gotta head off, actually. A friend just called me for something.”

“Oh? Okay,” Dongmin said, shrugging. “Don’t tell me you’re ditching us already.”

Jaehyun laughed. “No way. Sorry for cutting the walk short though. I know I said I wouldn’t make it boring.”

“No problem.” Dongmin shrugged. “We can always come back another time.”

Jaehyun nodded, then turned to the others. “I’m leaving, guys. Don’t get into trouble.”

“Too late.” Sungho laughed.

“See you later, everyone.” He waved, then jogged down the path.

As Jaehyun went off, Dongmin exhaled slowly, kicking a loose stone down the path.

Sungho grinned, leaning back slightly. “What’s up with you? You’ve been… different.”

Dongmin felt a faint heat creep up his neck. He tried to sound casual. “Different?”

“Soft.” Donghyun smirked. “He’s got you soft, man.”

“Nah. I mean… he’s just a new friend, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” Sungho said, nudging him. “Said the guy who keeps glancing over at him every two seconds.”

Dongmin rolled his eyes, but the warmth in his chest stayed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Cute,” Donghyun muttered, grinning.

“Shut up.” Dongmin said lightly, falling in step with them.

He couldn’t name it yet. He called it friendship, for now. But it was a friendship that made the trail brighter, the air crisper, and his chest feel just a little too full.

 Week 7, Tuesday

The campus was buzzing with students leaving class, backpacks slung over shoulders, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the quad. Dongmin walked toward the usual meeting spot feeling an unfamiliar flutter in his chest. By the time he arrived, his friends were already plopped in their spots.

“Finally!” Woonhak called. “Thought you were gonna ghost us today.”

“I was… busy,” Dongmin said, shrugging casually, though his eyes flicked briefly toward Jaehyun, who was sitting next to Woonhak with a smile.

The afternoon passed in a blur. They grabbed coffees, wandered between campus lawns, and ended up sprawled on the steps near the fountain. Laughter bounced from one person to the next. Teasing, gentle arguments about frisbee, and quiet observations that somehow felt important.

“So… how was the walking trail last week?” Sanghyuk asked casually, taking a slow sip.

“Oh! It was amazing! Seriously, I didn’t expect it to be so peaceful. The river, the sunlight through the trees… it was perfect.” Jaehyun’s face lit up immediately, “I had so much fun with the guys! I could’ve stayed there all day.”

“So why didn’t you?” Donghyun intercepted playfully.

“I met up with someone from back home! I hadn’t seen him in ages. He got lost in the city that day, it was really funny. We used to hang out a lot. he was actually kind of my crush back then.” He grinned, shaking his head slightly. “Crazy how things change, right?”

Dongmin blinked, caught a little off guard. “Oh…really?” His voice stayed calm, but he couldn’t stop the twinge in his stomach.

“A crush huh? Were they, like, hot then?” Sanghyuk asked, curious. Dongmin also wanted to know.

Jaehyun chuckled, pulling his phone out. “Well I mean, I guess you could say that.” He tapped the screen and turned it toward Sanghyuk. “Here, see for yourself.”

Sanghyuk whistled softly. “Not bad, not bad at all.”

“So you think you got a chance now?” Woonhak asked innocently.

“Probably not,” he chuckled shyly. “He’s way out of my league.”

Dongmin felt that same twist inside himself as he stole a glance at the picture. He thought: But aren’t I hotter?

And he said it out loud.

There was a brief pause. Jaehyun blinked, a little startled, and Dongmin immediately wished he could swallow his words. Sungho and Donghyun exchanged grins before bursting out laughing.

“Wow.” Sanghyuk elbowed him lightly. “ten of ten for comedic timing.”

Woonhak wrinkled his nose dramatically. “Ugh, gross. Did you really just say that out loud?”

Jaehyun burst out laughing, almost spilling his drink. “Oh my gosh, that’s… that’s hilarious! You actually said that!”

Dongmin felt his ears heat up instantly, but he didn’t backtrack. He leaned back on his hands, jaw set, eyes flicking away for just a second too long.

“I mean,” he said, shrugging a little stiffly, “I’m not wrong.”

That only made things worse.

Donghyun pointed at him. “See? Not even denying it.”

They were never going to let that go. Dongmin refused to look over. He refused to give them the satisfaction, but he could still hear the amusement in Jaehyun’s voice, still feel it aimed right at him. He knew backing down would be even worse for him.

Jaehyun was still grinning, eyes twinkling. “That’s gold. You’re actually serious.”

“But did I lie?” Dongmin shot back, feeling defeated.

“I guess not.” Jaehyun wiped a tear from laughing too much.

And for a moment, it hit him.

There was something there.

Not a big deal, probably nothing. But something enough to make him trip over a dumb comment about some old crush. Enough to make him wish he’d been a bit more careful.

Meanwhile, Jaehyun watched, genuinely amused. The same Dongmin who had always been so careful, so guarded, was suddenly letting himself be flustered, letting the group tease him, letting laughter spill freely. Jaehyun thought it was hilarious.

But that was all.

He didn’t notice the sharp little pull in Dongmin’s chest, the sudden, stubborn feeling that had just settled there and wasn’t going anywhere.