Chapter Text
It starts with a mistake.
Or at least, that’s what Dylan tells himself when he hits send.
> fuck you
The message sits there in blue, sharp and final. His chest is still tight from the argument—voices raised, pride bruised, the kind of fight that isn’t really about what it started with anymore. It’s about everything they haven’t said.
Jun reads it three minutes later.
Dylan knows because the read receipt pops up, and suddenly the room feels too small.
He expects anger. Maybe silence. Maybe a block.
Instead, Jun replies.
> Go ahead then.
Dylan frowns.
Before he can type back, another message appears.
> Fuck me.
His breath catches.
There’s a long pause after that, like Jun is hovering over the keyboard, deciding just how far he wants to go. Then the third message lands—
> Ain’t nobody holding u back.
And just like that, the fight shifts.
Because this—this isn’t just anger. This is Jun throwing the door wide open, daring Dylan to step through. To stop pretending the tension between them is just rivalry, just irritation, just anything but this.
Dylan stares at the screen.
Jun has always been like this—reckless with his words when he’s pushed far enough. Honest in the worst, most inconvenient moments. The kind of honesty that ruins things or finally makes them real.
Dylan types.
Deletes.
Types again.
> You don’t mean that.
Jun replies instantly this time.
> Try me.
And that’s the problem.
Jun never backs down.
They don’t talk for two days after that.
No follow-ups. No apologies. Just silence thick with everything unsaid.
But Dylan can’t shake it.
Jun’s words loop in his head at the worst times—on the bus, in the middle of class, while he’s trying to sleep. That mix of challenge and something deeper, something that feels dangerously close to wanting.
Because Jun doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean.
And Dylan knows—knows—that if he shows up, if he crosses that line, Jun won’t stop him.
The third night, Dylan breaks.
He’s outside Jun’s place before he can talk himself out of it, phone heavy in his hand, heart louder than his thoughts.
He sends one message.
> I’m here.
The reply comes almost instantly.
> Door’s unlocked.
No hesitation.
No takebacks.
Dylan exhales, slow and shaky, before pushing the door open.
Jun is leaning against the kitchen counter like he’s been waiting all along.
No surprise. No questions.
Just that same look Dylan hates—calm, knowing, like he already knew how this would end.
“You took your time,” Jun says.
Dylan shuts the door behind him. “You said try you.”
Jun’s lips twitch. “And?”
Silence stretches between them, but it’s not empty anymore. It’s thick. Electric. The kind that makes every small movement feel louder.
Dylan steps closer.
“Still think nobody’s holding me back?” he asks.
Jun doesn’t move. Doesn’t step away.
“Never did.”
And that’s it.
That’s the moment everything shifts—when pride finally gives way to something sharper, something honest, something neither of them can pretend isn’t there anymore.