Chapter Text
Han was known for his laughter long before people knew his name.
It echoed down the hallways, bright, unrestrained, the kind that made heads turn before the punchline even landed. He joked with professors, teased Woongki until the latter threatened violence, draped himself over Shuaibo’s shoulders like he weighed nothing, and treated Juwon, Steven, Chihen, Jeongwoo, and even their youngest, Daisuke, like life was one long inside joke they were all lucky enough to be in on.
Han Park was sunshine on campus.
Which made it even stranger how quiet he became when JL was around.
JL, campus sweetheart, walking daydream, the kind of person people spoke about in softened tones. Always polite, always warm, smile gentle enough to feel personal even when it wasn’t meant to be. He fit into their friend group seamlessly, like he’d always been there, laughing easily with Woongki, patiently indulging Daisuke, leaning comfortably into Shuaibo during late-night study sessions.
Except with Han.
When JL entered the room, Han’s laughter dimmed. His jokes stopped mid-sentence. He suddenly found the floor fascinating, or his phone, or literally anything that wasn’t JL’s face.
If JL spoke to him, Han answered short. Polite. Almost aloof.
“Do they not get along?” people whispered.
“He’s loud with everyone except JL.”
“Maybe they just don’t suit each other.”
Even their own friend group assumed it was some personality clash. Woongki once nudged Shuaibo and muttered, “Weird, right? Han’s like allergic to him.”
But Woongki watched more closely than most.
He noticed how Han stiffened whenever JL sat too close. How his ears went red when JL laughed at something he said on the rare occasions Han managed to speak at all. How Han always positioned himself just far enough away to breathe, but close enough to look.
It wasn’t dislike, It was terror.
One afternoon, Woongki leaned over to Shuaibo while Han was busy pretending to be deeply invested in his notebook as JL explained something animatedly to Daisuke.
“…he’s got it bad,” Woongki whispered.
Shuaibo followed his gaze. Han’s knuckles were white around his pen.
“Oh,” Shuaibo said slowly, a grin spreading. “Oh wow.”
And just like that, a plan was born.
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
The end of class came with the kind of restless energy that only boredom and friendship could create. Someone suggested hanging back. Someone else suggested a game.
“Spin the bottle,” Woongki announced, already pulling one from his bag like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment.
Groans, laughter, immediate chaos.
Rules were made on the spot. Truths were exaggerated. Dares were stupid. Steven had to sing a dramatic love confession to a chair. Jeongwoo attempted a push-up challenge and failed spectacularly. Daisuke spun the bottle so hard it flew off the table.
Everyone was laughing.
Everyone…….until the bottle slowed.
Click.
Click.
Click.
And stopped.
Pointing directly at Han.
The room erupted.
Han froze. “No. Absolutely not.”
Woongki and Shuaibo exchanged a look; pure, unfiltered menace.
“Easy,” Woongki said sweetly. “Just say one thing.”
Han narrowed his eyes. “I don’t trust that tone.”
“Just say,” Shuaibo added, “‘Please hug me’ to someone.”
Relief flashed across Han’s face, until Woongki finished.
“—to JL.”
Silence.
Then laughter. Loud, merciless.
JL laughed too, a little startled, hand covering his mouth. “What?”
Han’s heart slammed against his ribs.
“Nope,” Han said immediately. “No. Pass.”
“Ay!” someone booed.
“Spoil sport!”
“Come on, Han!”
Han shook his head harder, panic rising. Words tangled in his throat. His chest felt tight, like he’d just been asked to step off a cliff.
JL’s smile faltered.
He looked down, then back up, forcing it this time. “Guys, stop,” he said gently. “He doesn’t want to. It’s fine.”
Then, softer. Quieter.
“He clearly doesn’t like me.”
Something cracked.
Han’s breath caught.
Woongki saw it…..the way Han’s eyes widened, the way his hands trembled.
“No—no, it’s not that,” Han blurted out.
Everyone went still.
Han swallowed. His voice dropped, barely there. “I’ll… I’ll do it.”
He turned to JL, hands shaking at his sides. “P-please… hug me.”
JL blinked, then smiled, warm and bright, like Han had just handed him something precious.
“Okay,” JL said.
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Han easily, comfortably, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Han forgot how to breathe.
JL smelled like clean laundry and something sweet. His arms were warm. Solid. Real.
The hug lasted maybe three seconds.
It felt like forever.
“Again,” Shuaibo said casually.
Han squeaked.
Woongki grinned. “Say it properly.”
Han’s face burned. “P-please hug me,” he whispered again.
JL hugged him again. Happily. No hesitation.
A third time.
By the third hug, everyone noticed.
Han was trembling.
His ears were bright red. His hands hovered awkwardly, unsure where to go. And every time JL pulled away, Han looked like he might actually collapse.
“Oh,” Steven murmured. “Oh wow.”
The laughter softened into knowing looks.
And then….
Click.
The classroom door locked.
Han whipped around. “What—what did you do?!”
“Give you privacy,” Woongki called through the door. “Don’t get a heart attack Haniyaaa!”
Footsteps faded.
Silence settled.
Han paced. Ran a hand through his hair. “They’re insane. They’ve lost it. I’m going to kill them.”
JL watched him, expression unreadable.
Then he sighed.
“Hani hyung,” JL said gently.
Han froze.
JL stepped closer. His smile was softer now, shy in a way Han had never seen before.
“I’ll do it instead,” JL said.
Han looked at him, mind blank.
JL tilted his head, eyes bright. “I like you.”
Han’s world stopped.
“Do you like me?”
Han felt every single emotion hit him at once.
Heat. Shock. Hope.
He opened his mouth….
And promptly combusted, face burning red, heart racing so hard he was sure JL could hear it.