Work Text:
“Dear diary, God, whoever is listening. It’s me, Kim Seungmin, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure I’m committing a sin. There’s this boy in my class, his name is Chris. Extremely basic, I know, but everyone else calls him Chan, or Bangchan. He’s my age, hot, and really buff for his age. But that’s not why I like him, he’s so damn sweet and he’s optimistic, and he’s a good leader, and he’s- you get the jist. He’s so perfect, how the fuck can someone be so damn perfect? At first I tried to convince myself that it was jealousy, that I just wanted the fame and attention he would receive daily. But, when I watch him playing football out in the field, it’s.. him I’m looking at, not the girls yelling and screaming his name. Whatever, he doesn’t even know I exist, it’s not like I want him to notice me anyways, wouldn’t make my move or anything.”
Seungmin shuts his diary closed the second he hears someone come in, he then sits upright and fixes his hair behind his ear. Oh, just Han.
“Hey Seungmo, who are you writing about this time?” Han walks over and ruffles his hair, pushing his own into a cap.
It's a normal question, one he always asks just to tease him. But today, it scared him a little. “This time? I'm not a slut like you.” He playfully shoves his hand off.
Han gives him one more playful shove before walking off, probably to clean up. Seungmin gets off the bed and turns around to wake Felix up, they would have to watch the others practice football today, mainly why he wrote in his diary.
He and Felix walk to the field, Felix clings onto him, he's probably kind of nervous too, since Hyunjin is playing. When he takes his seat—far in the back just to make sure he doesn't get hit in the face by a ball—he sees Chan already practicing with the others, so he shoves down that infuriating little feeling in him and feigns indifference.
Chan, who is currently practicing football, notices Seungmin in the corner of his eye, but chooses not to acknowledge it.
He continues passing and kicking the ball back and forth with Changbin, both of them sweating and panting from the intense practice.
Chan couldn't help but notice how cute Seungmin looked, sitting on the bleachers by himself. But he shook the thought out of his head, reminding himself that Seungmin was just another fanboy who was probably obsessed with him like everyone else… right?
But.. He's not. Originally, Chan had tried to approach him, just to be nice, it's what he does to all his fanboys/girls.
When he sat down with him at lunch, Seungmin barely batted an eye, just.. continued eating like nothing happened, not until Chan said “Hi”, to which he barely lifted his head too. It's so weird, he really doesn't understand that guy, maybe he doesn't have to.
He won't deny it; it does make him interested in Seungmin, the fact that he's so cold and nonchalant all the time, he'd like to ‘know him better’, in other words. He probably wasn't even here for him, he was probably forced by Felix since Hyunjin is here too.
So he forces himself to look away, to not make a move, to pretend that he isn't kinda into him. ‘Cause that's what Seungmin wants, right? “Chan, get your head in the game!” The coach yells from afar, Chan immediately obeys, turning his attention back to the game.
Chan runs harder, pushing himself extra fiercely in practice—partly to impress the coach, partly to impress someone else watching from the bleachers. He dribbles past Changbin with a quick feint, sending the ball sailing straight into the goal.
The team cheers, but Chan’s eyes flicker toward the stands—just for a second—searching for Seungmin’s reaction. Did he see that? Does he care?
Meanwhile, Seungmin sighs and nudges Felix. "Why do they have to be so loud? It's just practice."
Felix giggles, whispering, "You say that, but you haven’t looked away from the field once."
Seungmin scowls and shoves Felix lightly. "Shut up. I’m just bored." But his fingers tighten around the edge of the bleacher, betraying him.
Chan wipes his forehead with his sleeve, chest heaving. Maybe... just maybe... he could "accidentally" kick the ball toward the stands?
No. Bad idea.
...Unless?
He totally does it.
The ball arcs high—too high—soaring past the field and heading straight for Seungmin’s face.
"LOOK OUT—!" Chan yells, already sprinting toward him in panic.
Seungmin looks up from his journal from the yelling, and plus, it's Chan's voice. The ball flies at him full-force, he flinches to cover his face but Chan jumps in front of him, saving his face but slamming down onto the ground in return. Shit, that's kinda hard to ignore.
Chan slams onto the ground, the ball successfully in his hand, he hears his fangirls rushing over to check if he's alright, which he's grateful for, but he really only wants one person's attention.
He looks at the ball in his hands before scrunching his nose and smiling, half-because he's happy, half-cause he's shoulder really fucking hurts.
He has to bite his lip just to not be so obvious. But turning around and seeing Seungmin soft blinking at him, the way he reaches his hand out to help him up. Fuck yeah.
Seungmin looks down at Chan, his nose scrunched, sweat beading along his hair line, flushed face from practicing so hard.
Fuck, he'd really be lying if he said he didn't look good right now. But, no feelings, remember? Plus, Chan is hurt on the ground, so maybe he can allow himself to reach out, just this once? So he holds his hand out for him to grab, muttering a small—
“A-Are you okay?”
Chan’s heart absolutely SOARS when Seungmin reaches out—he was right, Seungmin does care—and he takes his hand immediately, grinning even though his shoulder is throbbing.
"I’m totally fine!" He hops up—maybe a little too energetically for someone who just ate dirt—and brushes off his knees. "Sorry about that—my kick was way off. You okay? Didn’t scare you, did I?"
His voice is all warm and honey-sweet, but Seungmin just nods stiffly and pulls his hand back the second Chan’s upright. "I’m fine. You’re the one who fell."
Chan laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ah, yeah, but it was worth it! Better me than you, right?" He’s leaning in a little too close, smile a little too bright, and Seungmin’s ears turn pink.
Felix—still clinging onto Hyunjin's arm in the background, stage-whispers. "Wow. Real heroic, Chan.”
Seungmin glares at him. "Shut up."
Chan tilts his head, still grinning. "What? It’s true! I’d do it again." He flexes his—very sore—arm dramatically. "See? Built for protection."
Seungmin rolls his eyes, but there’s the tiniest smirk threatening to break through. "Whatever. Go back to practice before your coach yells at you again."
Chan pouts. "But what if I want to stay here with you?"
Silence. Seungmin’s brain short-circuits.
Felix kicks his feet in the background, burrowing into Hyunjin's shoulder and stifling a laugh.
“Anyways, save me a seat at lunch, yeah?” He waves, still keeping his optimistic attitude up.
Chan ignores the heavy pounding under his chest and pushes himself back into the game, suddenly hyper-focused.
Seungmin is completely silent, the crowd turning into white-noise. He'd like to say he wasn't like those lovesick fools who stop functioning the second their love interest interacts with them. But there he was, face blank, but heart pounding so hard he swears Felix can hear it.
So, he forces himself to deadpan. “Uh, sure.”
He gives a small awkward nod before immediately averting his attention back to his diary, barely paying any attention to the game nor the people yelling beside him.
Jesus, he doesn't know whether to ride the high or feel incredibly embarrassed about the fact that he just stopped functioning when Chan held his hand.
Chan can barely focus on the game. He keeps catching himself peeking over his shoulder at Seungmin. Is he watching? Please be watching. Please. God.
He almost misses a few passes and runs into Changbin once or twice, too distracted to pay attention. Changbin slaps him lightly on the back. "Wake up, lover boy." Chan blushes furiously. "Shut up. I'm just... distracted."
Changbin grins and glances at Seungmin. "Uh-huh. I wonder who could be getting in your head so much?”
Chan slaps his shoulder, a bright smile never leaving his face. “Hey, it's our little secret, k?” He murmurs, like his fangirls would read their lips and put two-and-two together.
————
The very second practice ends, Seungmin yanks his bag off the ground and stomps off. Felix doesn't question it, already knows what he's up to anyways. He makes his way into the library—a far corner which not many people go to—and takes his diary out.
“Holy shit, Chan just held my fucking hand. What the hell, I don't know anymore. He's making it extremely hard for me to ignore him when he saved me from the nurses office. Dammit, these godforsaken feelings are starting to get a hold of me. No, I can't confess or any bullshit like that. I don't even think he's.. gay.”
He lifts his head to the person making their way here, just Minho. “Hi Seungmin, you're going to miss lunch, do you know that?” He says casually before scanning through the shelves.
Shit, he's supposed to sit with Chan. “Oh, thank you.” He says quietly before swinging his bag over his shoulder and rushing out there first thing.
Seungmin bursts into the cafeteria just in time to see Chan already sitting at their usual table—except there’s an extra tray of food placed right across from him. His stomach does a weird flip. Did Chan... get that for him?
Chan spots him and lights up, waving him over. "Seungmin! Over here!" He pats the seat beside him eagerly. "I, uh, grabbed you something to eat. Just in case you were hungry."
Seungmin’s face burns. This is too much. Chan is too much. But he can’t stop the tiny flutter in his chest as he walks over, trying to keep his expression neutral. "...Thanks." He mutters, sitting down stiffly.
Chan beams like Seungmin just handed him the moon. "No problem! Figured you might forget after running off like that." He nudges the tray closer. "Got your favorites—hope that’s okay?”
Seungmin stares at the food. How does Chan even know his favorites? Did he... pay attention?
His heart is doing somersaults now. Damn it.
Felix plops down next to them, grinning. "Wow, Chan. You’re really going all out today."
Chan laughs nervously, rubbing his neck. "Just being a good friend!"
Seungmin stabs his fork into his food. "Mhm. Sure." But he doesn’t pull away when Chan’s knee accidentally brushes his under the table. Neither does Chan.
And if Hyunjin catches them sneaking glances at each other all through lunch? Well. That’s a problem for future Chan and Seungmin.
It's quiet, not in the room, not with Changbin yelling about his day—between the two. It's the same reaction Chan's getting, he talks to his friends, jokes a little, and Seungmin continues eating like nothing's happening, completely ignoring Chan.
Meanwhile, Seungmin could barely control himself. God, he'd be so embarrassed if Felix or anyone were to see the small smile he's hiding through his slumped shoulders and tilted head. He has to mentally remind himself to stop bouncing his leg as Chan's hand scoots a bit closer to his.
Lunch ends, and He and Seungmin still haven't had a proper conversation, partly from the fact that they're both so awkward around the other, partly from the fact that their friends keep talking over them. At this point, Chan is really starting to lose hope that this guy even likes him, no, if he notices that he exists.
Like, Chan is the smartest most popular guy in school, there's no way that he doesn't notice him. So, as soon as the bell rings, Chan heads into the library, to kill time and to contemplate. He picks up a random book, one of the few that he hasn't already read, and takes a seat far away from the other students.
There's a perfect empty table far in the back, but there's already a book there, not one from the library. It looks fairly familiar, Chan turns it over, not opening it just yet, the cover reads. ‘Kim Seungmin’, in perfect Times New Roman. Oh, is this his little diary he always keeps? Being a gentleman, he stuffs it into his bag and keeps it until he meets Seungmin again.
————
Seungmin is just as frustrated when their lunch passes without so much as a conversation. But it's his own fault, isn't it. He was the one that refused to make eye contact, avoiding Chan at all costs.
He sighs and packs up his things as the bell rings, slinging his bag onto his shoulder. He heads toward the library for his free period, planning on taking out his frustration in his diary. But as he approaches "his" table in the back…
It's empty?
His journal is gone.
Shit, shit, shit—! That literally holds all his secrets, majority of those are Chan, if Felix took it he would never stop teasing him. He scans the area before rushing off into the halls, he wants to find his diary, but he wants to not be scolded by their biology teacher more.
On his way to class, Chan sees Seungmin rounding the corner, and as the optimistic extrovert he is, he chases after him. He jogs up to him and gets in front, walking backwards while awkwardly fiddling with his bag strap. I'd be the perfect time to return his diary.
“Hey, Seungmin! I wanted to—”
Seungmin looks up at him for a second, eyebrows furrowed slightly and a heavy look of worry. Chan would like to ask him what's wrong, but Seungmin cuts that thought off.
“Sorry Chan, I-I can't—” He gives a small wave before stomping off. He hates the feeling of pushing him away, but he's already got enough on his plate, and he's late.
“Oh, okay.” Chan watches as Seungmin's figure retreats, clutching his bag tightly and slumping. It's really no use, no matter how much he likes this guy, or shows it, Seungmin really doesn't like him, not even as a person.
Chan stands there for a beat too long, the hallway noise blurring around him. His smile fades, just slightly — not gone, never gone, because he’s Bangchan and he doesn’t break easy — but dimmer now.
He walks back to class slow, shoulders heavy in a way that has nothing to do with his football gear.
————
Later that day, tucked into the very last page of Seungmin’s diary which he absolutely did not read, despite every urge, Chan slips in a small folded note.
It reads:
"You don’t have to talk. I’ll keep saving you a seat anyway. – C"
And next to it? A silly doodle of two stick figures — one tiny and frowning, one giant with comically huge arms like they could shield the whole world.
No grand gesture. No pressure.
Just... hope.
And before he leaves his desk to head home, he writes a small—
I believe in you, even if you don't believe in us yet.
With a smirk, he scoops the diary into his arms and walks out towards the dorms.
————
Chan opens his door, quietly just in case Minho is already here—he's not, so Chan slumps his bag down and drops the diary on his desk. He takes his shirt off then crash onto his bed, but when he turns around he sees that the diary is wide-open, seriously? Does this guy not invest in a lock?
After a long ass day—though it's no excuse, he takes a tiny peek. It automatically lands on a page that's been opened, stared at, re-read far too many times. It's stained with faint tearstains, making dot-shaped creases into the paper. It reads:
“May 24, 2018. Dear God, there's this boy in my class, I don't know how to describe him. He's like a.. Lost dog? I’m not sure, but he's funny, he makes me laugh, and I don't laugh often. He notices when I'm overshadowed or left out, he sees me, Kim Seungmin. Not some random guy who's good at calculus, so when he looks my way, unfortunately, my heart absolutely soars. Bangchan was his name? Shit, I'm a bad liar, ofcourse I know his name? I know his nickname too, Chan. What a cute name. I think I like him, like, a lot. Fuck, I even attend each of his football practices, I don't even give a fuck about football. Anyway, he's not into me, I'm not even sure he knows I exist, so what's the point, right?”
Chan reads this with a soft smile, his heart a little lighter. This guy thinks about him. He feels for him. He sees him.
But how does he fix this? How does he tell Seungmin—without scaring him off—that he’s been just as stupidly, hopelessly into him this whole time?
No, he'll just do it. Seungmin's too shy to tell him, right? So he'll make the situation easier for the both of them, by confessing himself, make the first move, easy enough, right?
It's sweet, almost. Chan could laugh. He wishes he could read more of this book — to find all the things Seungmin admires about him.
But... no, that's an invasion of privacy. No matter how much he itches to know, to read more of Seungmin's thoughts, he puts the book back, exactly how he found it.
And heads to bed.
————
And by the next day at lunch, Chan decides to sit with him by the bleachers instead of with his football buddies, and with a little help from Changbin, he finalizes the decision to make a move.
“Ugh, AP? I've got algebra after this.” Felix sighs, stabbing his food mindlessly like the thought made him lose his appetite.
“Dude, shut up.” Jeongin almost immediately cuts him off, slapping Seungmin's knee as Chan approaches.
Seungmin looks up from his bento, visibly annoyed by the assault. He watches as Chan takes a seat on the bleacher behind him and immediately freezes up, going back to his quiet, cold self.
“Hey Seungmin, Sir. Ric’s test is coming up, mind helping me study?” Chan says in his casual, charming tone, suppressing a smile that's fighting too hard.
Seungmin almost chokes on his eggroll before looking up at Jeongin and Felix, who are giving him supportive smiles. “Uh.. Sure.” Chan? Student council prez needs help with studying?
“Yeah, cool. See you later.” Chan pats his shoulder once before walking off into school, trying to calm himself from either smiling too wide or punching a wall in excitement.
Jeongin nudges Seungmin lightly, eyes wide with faux shock. "Student council prez is talking to you. Woah."
"Stop."
"I'm just saying." Jeongin takes a sip of his soda, watching Chan walk away. "He's never asked to study with me."
Felix snorts. "You have a D in algebra. You don't need to study, you need a miracle.”
————
Later that night Seungmin receives a text from Chan. Not to study at the library, nor the study hall, no, at his dorm. Seungmin was so close to saying no and blocking him, but Chan needed help, and Felix would literally murder him.
So, he shoves down any feelings and walks to his dorm, he knocks on his door, a beat, then he walks off.
“Hey! Seungmin!” Chan calls out just as Seungmin is about to turn the corner. Seungmin, with much hesitance, turns back around and enters his dorm.
Minho isn't here, shit. He takes a seat on the floor beside Chan's bed as Chan crashes onto it. Then he takes out his textbooks and covers the floor in sticky notes, and various notebooks. “We can start with calculus..”
He looks up at Chan for confirmation, but Chan barely nods, just continues fidgeting with his earring and looking into Seungmin's eyes.
Seungmin looks away almost immediately, clearing his throat lowly before going back to teaching.
“And then—Chan? Are you..” Seungmin looks back up at Chan, he still hasn't moved his position, nor taken his eyes off Seungmin, a soft smile starting to form.
"Hm?" Chan's eyes are soft and wide — curious, attentive. As if everything Seungmin says is utterly fascinating.
He's still twisting his earring casually, and Seungmin is trying hard to ignore the tiny flutter in his chest.
"You're not… paying attention." He accuses, shifting in his spot. Why did Chan look at him like that? Almost like he's not there to study calculus at all.
Chan grins, tilting his head a little. "Sorry. Got distracted.”
“It's uh.. Uhm, it's fine.” Seungmin mindlessly spins a pen between his fingers, his head practically spinning, shit, even he's getting distracted.
But he regains composure, because at this point, they're both going to fail this test. “And the numeric—”
He looks back up at Chan, his eyes completely softened, his hold on his earring faltering as Seungmin locks eyes with him.
“Chan?” He waves his hand slightly. “Chan? Are you even listening?” He snaps lightly.
“Sorry, you're just so pretty when you're focused.” Chan says, like an afterthought he didn't mean to say. A soft smile starts to appear as he slowly blinks at Seungmin, scanning for a reaction.
Seungmin completely blanks out, an uncontrollable warmth of red creeping up to his cheeks. Felix has complimented his height before, Jeongin—his smarts, but pretty? That's kinda new.
Silence.
Seungmin’s pen slips from his fingers and rolls across the floor.
Chan thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.
Seungmin swallows hard, scrambling for words—any words—but his brain has officially short-circuited.
"I— That’s—" His voice cracks. "We’re supposed to be studying." He sounds like he’s pleading, like he’s trying to convince himself more than Chan.
Chan hums, leaning forward just slightly. "I know. But I think I’d rather study you instead."
Chan laughs softly, reaching out to tap Seungmin’s knee. "Kidding! ...Kinda." He grins, eyes crinkling at the corners. "But seriously, you’re blushing so hard right now."
Seungmin slaps his hands over his face. "Shut up. I’m not."
Chan leans in closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "Liar."
The calculus books lay forgotten on the floor. Neither of them care.
“Huh, you really do look amazing right now. Always, in fact.” His hand brushes Seungmin's knee as he comes closer, he reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind Seungmin's ear.
Seungmin is hyperaware of their proximity, Chan's breath fanning too close to his ear, both of his hands pressed beside his hips, so close to each other he swears Chan can feel his burning cheeks on his.
Then, Chan whispers, just low enough for him to hear. “You wouldn't mind if I kissed you, right?”
Seungmin almost dies on the spot, he can allow himself to show affection, just this once. So he nods, not being able to form any words. He doesn't know why he did that, he just did.
Chan exhales softly—relief, excitement, everything—before closing the distance between them in one slow, deliberate motion.
His lips are warm against Seungmin’s, tentative at first, like he’s waiting for permission. But when Seungmin doesn’t pull away—when he leans in instead—Chan cups his face gently, kissing him deeper.
Seungmin’s hands finally unclench from his lap, gripping Chan’s shirt like he’s afraid he’ll disappear.
They pull apart breathlessly, foreheads resting together. Chan’s grin is all soft edges and fondness. "So… you do like me."
Seungmin scowls, but there’s no heat behind it. "Shut up."
Chan laughs, stealing another quick kiss. "Make me.”
So, without another second wasted, Seungmin closes the distance between them once again before clutching the sides of Chan's shirt tightly.
He could really get used to this.