Chapter Text
The day he met Ahn Keonho, Kim Juhoon realized he’d fallen for Park Hajun.
Ahn Keonho stood a full head taller than Hajun. Shoulder pressed against Hajun’s shoulder, he turned his head and grinned so brightly it stung Juhoon’s eyes. Sunlight spilled over the side of his face, gilding even the fine strands of his hair. This warm, harmonious sight twisted a sharp twinge of jealousy inside Juhoon’s chest. Why hadn’t Hajun told him someone else was coming today? What exactly was their relationship? Did Hajun have such a close friend he’d never known about?
Juhoon strode forward quickly, putting on an unapologetically sour expression. He greeted Hajun coldly, then slowly shifted his gaze toward Ahn Keonho’s shocked face. It seemed Keonho was equally unaware of Juhoon’s existence, and this fact calmed his irritation a little. He listened listlessly as Hajun introduced them to each other.
Ahn Keonho’s mood visibly soured too. He forced a stiff smile, a stark contrast to the eager, wagging energy he’d exuded moments earlier.
“I bumped into Keonho by chance today. We’ve been friends since junior high, and he’s cramming for final exams too. Wanna head to the library together?”
Hajun was always like this, smiling softly as he put forward suggestions impossible to refuse. Juhoon shot him a glance and nodded despite his inner reluctance. Keonho naturally fell into step beside Hajun on the opposite side of Juhoon, chattering nonstop with him about funny inside jokes from their junior high years, stories Juhoon knew nothing of. Listening to all those unfamiliar names, he sneered inwardly; this guy sure knew how to put on an act.
Compared to Keonho, Hajun was as thoughtful and gentle as an angel. He patiently explained every inside reference to Juhoon, careful not to leave him out, and strove hard to keep the three-way conversation balanced. Details Juhoon had overlooked before suddenly dawned on him. He’d selfishly taken Hajun’s tender care for granted all along, and a flicker of guilt pricked his heart.
Even seating arrangements at lunch made Juhoon miserable. Whether he sat next to Hajun or across from him, resentment gnawed at him at the thought of surrendering the spot beside Hajun to Keonho. He wished there had never been a four-person table available.
Keonho appeared stuck with the same dilemma, but he made up his mind instantly and took the seat directly across from Hajun. Juhoon belatedly realized he’d hesitated too long. Now he had to twist his neck every time Hajun spoke to meet his eyes, only to catch Keonho gazing at the boy beside him with an ingratiating grin.
A day that should’ve been relaxed and pleasant had been ruined by this unexpected intruder. Juhoon was secretly furious, and he could barely focus on his studying anymore. He sat up slowly and stretched his neck over the divider between the desks to sneak a look at Hajun. Hajun kept his head down, and Juhoon could only see his back shaking a little as he wrote quickly. Right next to Hajun, Keonho’s face was easy to see. Keonho was not reading his books at all. He held the end of a pen to his bottom lip and stared at Hajun’s side face — exactly the same thing Juhoon was doing. Hajun, the person both of them were watching, had no idea about this silly silent competition between them.
How could Hajun be friends with someone so empty-headed?
Just then, Keonho glanced up and locked eyes with him without looking away. Juhoon froze, holding the stare for several seconds. In that split second, he was certain Keonho harbored the exact same crush on Hajun. Keonho raised an eyebrow faintly, breaking eye contact first with a tiny, taunting smirk. Juhoon frowned deeply, unable to suppress his rising frustration and irrational annoyance.
To make matters worse, Park Hajun left the library extremely early that day. The second Hajun started packing his bag, Keonho hastily stuffed his few books into his backpack and announced he’d walk home with him. Juhoon watched them coldly for a moment, then slowly stood up and closed his half-finished exercise workbook.
“Do Juhoon-hyung and I even need to swap contact info?”
The second Hajun stepped out of earshot, Keonho dropped his polite facade. He didn’t even glance at Juhoon as he spoke, waving cheerfully toward Hajun waiting at the bus stop across the road.
“No,” Juhoon replied.
He nodded once toward Hajun, then turned and walked straight toward the subway station without a backward glance. This brat hadn’t even bothered using honorifics—Juhoon itched to punch him. Maybe he should sign up for boxing classes over summer break, he thought as he walked.
Yet when he reached the subway turnstiles, he spotted that familiar jacket again. Juhoon averted his gaze and pretended not to see him, grumbling about his terrible luck. But even after he boarded the train and rode several stops, Keonho remained in his line of sight. Curiosity got the better of him, and he stole a glance. Keonho stared down at his phone, seemingly completely unaware of Juhoon’s presence. Juhoon quickly looked away, deliberately ignoring the figure sitting not far off.
“Hey, I’m warning you. Quit following me.”
There were few other passengers on the platform as they got off the train, making Keonho’s voice echo sharply enough for an elderly man nearby to glance over at them.
“Why would I follow you?” Juhoon halted, staring him down.
“You wanna know something?” Keonho sized him up for a moment before continuing. “You’re not Hajun’s type.”
“Good assumption,” Juhoon replied calmly. “If he liked guys like you, you two would’ve dated back in junior high.”
Keonho’s expression turned icy at once. He slung his backpack over one shoulder and marched straight toward Juhoon, fists clenched. Was he about to start a fight here? Juhoon’s mind raced. A public brawl would quickly get broken up, and any scrapes on his face would give him an excuse to seek Hajun’s comfort.
“You wouldn’t understand,” Keonho only leaned in to growl a threat instead. Juhoon stared at his long fluttering eyelashes and nearly laughed at the absurdity. “I treasure Hajun too much to rush into something casual with him.”
“Oh, so what does that have to do with me?” Juhoon stepped backward, repulsed by the stranger invading his personal space. “I’m leaving.”
“I’d advise you to stay out of things between him and me.” Keonho chased after him, refusing to back down and snarling aggressively.
“Why would I interfere?”
“You like him too, don’t you?” Keonho’s voice boomed loudly, embarrassing Juhoon.
“Did I ever say that?” Juhoon finally stopped walking, his gaze turning frosty as he watched Keonho flounder over the retort. “Even if I do have feelings for him, it’s none of your business.”
In the end, Keonho never gave him the chance to play the wounded victim in front of Hajun. Juhoon arrived at classroom early the next morning, arranging his homework and books neatly at his desk. He twirled a pen between his fingers, staring vacantly at Hajun’s empty seat.
Juhoon had always kept a small circle of friends, and his realization that he was attracted to men had only made him more withdrawn. Naturally reserved, he spoke slowly and cared nothing for the childish games his peers loved. He’d been perfectly content living alone before meeting Hajun.
Park Hajun had been his first deskmate in high school. Juhoon hadn’t thought anything special of him at first. Hajun was always the one to strike up conversations, share funny stories, invite him out on weekends, and endlessly tolerate his mood swings. Somewhere along the line, Juhoon realized Hajun meant far more than a regular friend to him. Even after they stopped sitting together, they still studied, ate lunch, and parted ways at the school gate every day as always.
He watched quietly as Park Hajun sat down at his desk, pulled out yesterday’s homework, picked up his pen, and began working through a math problem. Without hesitation, Juhoon grabbed his test paper and walked over to his side.
“Which one’s tripping you up?”
Hajun’s diligent work ethic was one of the traits Juhoon admired most. Being around him always filled Juhoon with motivation. As Juhoon looked at Hajun’s concentrated face from the side, he pictured how creepy Keonho acted. He felt sick right away. Fortunately, Keonho attended a different school originally. Yesterday’s run-in was just an accident, and they could only meet on weekends. Juhoon was confident in his advantage of proximity.
“You skipped breakfast again, didn’t you?”
A hand landed on Park Hajun’s shoulder, pulling him gently aside. Juhoon’s eyes fixed on the warm tan skin before he looked up to see Keonho leaning over, setting a pack of pastries on Hajun’s desk.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at your own school?” Juhoon’s tone sharpened before he could control it.
“Oh, hey there, Juhoon-hyung.” Keonho acted as if he’d just noticed Juhoon, feigning surprise with a mischievous grin.
“Keonho? I thought you spent all last year in swimming training?” No matter how much Juhoon hated to admit it, Hajun’s bright, shocked smile twisted his heart into knots.
“I did, but my mom decided I should transfer back for formal classes this year.” Keonho kept his hand resting on Hajun’s shoulder as he explained cheerfully. “I told her I wanted to enroll at the same school as you since your grades are so strong, and she was thrilled. I’m in the classroom right next door, by the way.”
“That’s… wonderful news.”
Juhoon tuned out the rest of their conversation, grabbing his papers and retreating silently to his seat.
“I’ll come find you at lunch break.” The school bell rang soon afterward. Keonho patted Hajun’s shoulder, shot a meaningful glance at Juhoon, and exited the classroom.
The nightmare from yesterday repeated itself mere hours later. Juhoon sat beside Park Hajun with a dark expression, shoveling food down while simmering with anger. He suspected his presence was equally stressful for Keonho, who wore a smile but lacked the genuine cheer he had when alone with Hajun.
“Hey Hajun, which cram school do you go to on weekends? I’m thinking of signing up too.” Keonho’s cheerful smile was infectious, and Juhoon noticed Hajun seemed far more excited than usual.
“Me? Actually… Juhoon’s my private tutor.” Hajun nudged Juhoon’s arm with his elbow and winked. The tiny gesture lifted Juhoon’s mood instantly.
“Don’t exaggerate,” he said modestly, grabbing a napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth.
“Don’t be humble! Seriously, Keonho, you can ask Juhoon anything you’re stuck on. He’s incredibly smart.” Hajun spoke enthusiastically, oblivious to Keonho’s fallen expression. Juhoon couldn’t resist a faint smile.
“Sounds great. You two usually study at the library, right? Can I tag along?” Keonho seized the opening immediately, much to Juhoon’s annoyance.
Park Hajun naturally couldn’t turn him down. Juhoon’s biggest torment was never knowing whether he or Keonho occupied a more important place in Hajun’s heart. Yet this was simply who Hajun was: endlessly kind and accommodating to everyone. Juhoon had fallen for this kindness, yet it was the very thing hurting him. It was a contradictory truth, yet completely understandable.
The three-person dynamic felt suffocating to Juhoon. He divided everyone strictly into friends and strangers. Keonho was certainly not a friend, yet he constantly lingered inside the private circle only Juhoon had once occupied.
Uncomfortable as it was, Juhoon refused to be the first one to back down. He poured his full effort into everything he set his mind to: his grades, hobbies, and now this person. Keonho appeared equally stubborn, but Juhoon refused to believe he would lose. Even better, he enjoyed subtly teasing Keonho in front of Hajun, watching him burn silently to ease his frustration over Hajun’s divided attention.
Keonho only kept hanging around because he had no other choice — he did not care about studying at all. When Juhoon saw Keonho lying across the desk in the study room with a book covering his head, fast asleep, he let out a scornful huff.
“Hmm?” Keonho jolted awake at the noise, eyes unfocused as he scrambled to look around. “Where’s Hajun?”
“He left already,” Juhoon replied flatly without lifting his eyes from his work.
“What?!” Keonho shot up from his chair with a loud scrape, drawing stares from nearby students. “Why didn’t he wake me up?”
“Keonho, what’s wrong?” Hajun reappeared just then carrying two cups of water, confused by Keonho’s sudden outburst.
“Uh—nothing.” Keonho scratched his head awkwardly and sat back down, glaring daggers at Juhoon, who acted completely unbothered.
Moments like this happened constantly, and Juhoon always found them amusing. With Hajun present, Keonho could never act on his rage no matter how furious he grew. Let him tag along, Juhoon thought. He was just a grumpy Chihuahua Juhoon could tease now and then.
Park Hajun clearly tried his best to help them adjust to the trio routine. He often asked Juhoon to pass things to Keonho, such as snacks, clothes, homework sheets, exam papers. They were trivial favors Juhoon couldn’t reasonably refuse, though he hated Keonho’s suspicious glares every time he handed something over.
“Why didn’t he give this to me himself?” Keonho always inspected the item carefully upon receiving it.
“Probably couldn’t stand seeing you,” Juhoon would reply routinely.
“That’s total garbage.” Keonho rolled his eyes, skipped a thank-you, and hurried off. Juhoon felt treated worse than a delivery worker, yet he always agreed to Hajun’s requests no matter his reluctance.
“I have an important family matter to handle this weekend, but Keonho has a swimming competition that day. Could you drop some things off for him?” Hajun sounded hesitant as he asked the favor.
“What things?” Juhoon sensed something unusual.
“Some drinking water, a towel, and this too.”
A plain LOTTE melon-flavored lollipop rested in Hajun’s palm. Juhoon had tried this candy a few times in primary school and abandoned it halfway each time for being far too sweet. The lollipop felt like an invisible barrier, locking Juhoon out of the shared memories between Hajun and Keonho. He stared at it for a long moment before taking it.
“Do you usually watch Keonho’s competitions?” he asked casually.
“I attended almost every race back in junior high, but his intensive training schedule kept us apart afterward.” Hajun smiled fondly as he recalled old memories. “Keonho trains relentlessly and has natural talent. He says sweet treats are for celebrating wins, and cheering him up after losses. I always brought one for him.”
“I see.” Juhoon listened quietly to stories of Keonho’s old swim meets. “You two share such a close bond.”
“Yeah, Keonho’s just as important a friend to me as you are.” Hajun grinned. “I hope you two can get along too.”
“I’ll try my best.” Juhoon pressed his cheek against his jaw, speaking the words while his mood sank rock-bottom.
Juhoon admitted he was biased against Keonho. He’d grown up hearing adults claim only students who struggled academically turned to sports specialties, and every sport-focused classmate he’d met had fit that stereotype of brawn over brains. During study sessions, Keonho was perpetually distracted, zoning out at math problems or staring at Hajun. Even when Juhoon tutored him for Hajun’s sake, his mind wandered constantly. How could someone like him excel at anything?
The swimming stadium was extremely noisy. As soon as Juhoon walked in, waves of mixed talking surrounded him, and he just wanted to run away at once. He originally had no intention of coming here. However, Hajun asked him repeatedly to record Keonho’s swimming race video, so he showed up punctually. The middle seating area was completely full, and the only empty seat was close to the race finish line. He overheard spectators discussing competitors and repeatedly mentioning Ahn Keonho’s name, but Juhoon paid no attention.
His earlier conversation with Hajun had left him defeated, a stark reminder of how hard it was to bridge the years of history Keonho shared with Hajun. Unlike Keonho, Juhoon had only known Hajun a short time, with no exclusive meaningful memories between them. He cherished their daily small moments, but what unique bond remained once Keonho inserted himself into their lives?
A shrill whistle snapped him out of his thoughts.
Juhoon raised his phone expressionlessly and hit record, framing the entire pool in the screen. He had no idea which lane Keonho occupied and cared even less. Hajun would identify him easily enough.
The 100-meter freestyle race was over in the blink of an eye. Before Juhoon’s arm grew tired, the leading swimmer hit the pool wall hard with his hand. The audience erupted into loud cheers. Juhoon fixed his eyes tightly on the end of the pool. He watched the winner with the black swim cap pull off his swimming goggles, push away from the wall, and climb out of the pool. When he realized Keonho was walking straight toward his position, Juhoon froze and quickly stopped the recording, hiding his unamused facial expression.
“What are you doing here?” Keonho paid no mind to the curious onlookers craning their necks to watch their interaction.
“Hajun sent me to bring your things,” Juhoon held out the water bottle and towel mechanically. “Didn’t he tell you?”
Keonho frowned and accepted the towel, draping it over his shoulders without opening the water.
“He didn’t,” he answered after a long pause.
“He asked me to give you one more thing…” Juhoon turned to dig the lollipop out of his pocket, eager to finish the task and leave.
Their awkward exchange was interrupted abruptly.
“Competitor Ahn Keonho, this marks your third high school division swimming championship this quarter! Could you share your thoughts right now?” A student reporter holding a microphone and camera crew approached them.
“It’s an absolute honor. I’d like to thank my parents, coach, and my friends…” Keonho recovered quickly, reciting generic athlete remarks. Juhoon stood awkwardly caught between staying or escaping, shuffling sideways to avoid appearing on camera.
“Is this young man your friend? Can we ask you what Keonho is like from your perspective?”
Juhoon stiffened, glancing instinctively at a stunned Keonho.
“He trains incredibly hard and possesses outstanding natural talent,” Juhoon repeated Hajun’s words flatly, his heart tangled with mixed emotions. “I believe he has an amazing future in this sport.”
Keonho broke into a bright grin, revealing white teeth. He draped his wet arm loosely across Juhoon’s shoulders, pretending they were really close to each other. Before Juhoon could shove him off, Keonho pulled away and told the reporter he needed to head to the awards ceremony, walking toward the locker rooms.
Typical ingratitude. Juhoon scowled, wiping the damp spot on his shirt.
Nearly all the audience had gone home when Keonho walked up to the awards stage. Juhoon watched him from a distance. Keonho wore a white sports suit, and his gold medal shone brightly in the late afternoon sunshine filling the stadium. Juhoon had never seen Keonho look so proud before. His messy naturally-dried hair and picture-perfect smile carried a faint hint of teasing defiance.
“Why are you still hanging around?” Juhoon stepped forward once the photoshoot and formal greetings wrapped up, blocking Keonho’s path. Keonho raised a confused eyebrow and halted in his tracks. “Surprised you’d sing my praises back there. That’s a first.”
“Don’t get used to it. I’ll be the first person to leak your embarrassing secrets someday.” Juhoon pulled the untouched lollipop from his pocket. “One last item from Hajun. Here.”
Keonho’s mood darkened instantly, his voice turning cold.
“What’s this supposed to mean?”
“Hajun sent me to deliver it,” Juhoon studied his stormy expression and guessed the root of his anger. A private ritual between them two had been intruded on by him, and Keonho couldn’t blame Hajun, leaving Juhoon to bear his frustration. Still, it felt satisfying to let Keonho taste the same disappointment Juhoon endured daily.
“I won’t take it unless Hajun hands it to me personally.” Keonho brushed roughly past him, shoulder colliding hard with Juhoon’s. “Don’t act as his messenger for me ever again.”
“As if I volunteered for this,” Juhoon laughed bitterly and stormed out through a different arena exit, simmering with rage.
He grumbled the entire walk to the school gate, still furious enough to wish he’d fought Keonho back there rather than slink away defeated. Night had fully fallen, and he wandered the streets near the school instead of heading home. The rejected lollipop sat weightless in his pocket. Not hungry, he unwrapped the candy and popped it into his mouth out of boredom.
The overly sweet artificial flavor hit his tongue right away. The sweetness did nothing to lift his spirits. It only made his stomach churn. He tossed the half-eaten lollipop into a nearby trash can, a petty sense of victory swelling inside him, as if he’d destroyed something precious to Keonho.
That night, he received an unexpected message from Keonho. They had no direct contact, but Hajun had created a group chat for the three of them, where only Hajun typically initiated conversations.
Keonho: Do you still have the lollipop?
Juhoon only checked his phone hours later after finishing homework, too tired to reply even with the perfect chance to irritate Keonho.
When school resumed a few days later, Keonho acted as if the incident never happened, continuing to hover around Park Hajun endlessly.
“He got upset because the candy didn’t come straight from you,” Juhoon whispered to Hajun while Keonho stepped away to grab tableware during lunch.
“I know. I already calmed him down, don’t worry,” Hajun apologized softly.
“How did you cheer him up?” Juhoon paused, leaning forward eagerly for the answer.
A hand suddenly clamped down hard on his shoulder, yanking him sideways. Juhoon hissed in pain and looked up to see Keonho’s fake smiling face.
“Spreading rumors about me?” Keonho joked playfully, releasing Juhoon and sitting across from Hajun.
“Of course not,” Hajun quickly diverted the topic to lighter chatter, visibly relieved.
Juhoon dropped the subject, offering occasional quiet replies throughout the meal. He could easily guess Keonho’s demand: exclusive one-on-one time with Hajun. That explained Hajun’s hesitation earlier, and Juhoon refused to pressure the boy he liked.
Juhoon and Keonho’s relationship turned extremely cold. For almost two weeks, they ignored each other completely, even when Hajun was around. The three of them would split up into two separate pairs to talk instead. Juhoon noticed how anxious Hajun felt stuck between them, but he could not bring himself to ruin Hajun’s wish that the two guys could get along.
“Can we talk?” Juhoon blocked Keonho’s path at the subway exit one evening. They’d been deliberately catching separate trains lately to avoid sharing space, and Keonho immediately slipped into a defensive stance, making Juhoon second-guess his decision.
“Hajun suffers when we’re hostile like this,” Juhoon said firmly.
“Then stop clinging to Hajun, and everything fixes itself,” Keonho retorted stubbornly.
“You have no right to order me to give up, and neither would I demand that of you.” Juhoon locked eyes with him; Keonho looked intimidating when he wasn’t smiling. “I’m sure you realize Hajun wants us to get along. It may never be real friendship, but we can behave civilly for his peace of mind.”
Keonho fell silent and glanced away. “I have one condition.”
“What is it?” Juhoon braced for an unreasonable request.
“Quit liking Hajun, and I’ll be your friend.”
Juhoon realized his attempt at reconciliation had been utterly futile. He turned on his heel and headed for the exit without another word.
“I mean it!” Keonho chased after him urgently. “How long have you even known him? Is your crush really that serious?”
“I’ve heard enough.” Juhoon spun around sharply, cold fury in his gaze. “In your eyes, my feelings for him count for less than yours, so I’m supposed to step aside and surrender all my time with him? But how well do you truly know our bond? Who gave you permission to judge my heart?”
Keonho froze, mouth opening to argue, but Juhoon cut him off.
“Do you honestly think Hajun would fall for someone as self-absorbed and oblivious to others’ feelings as you?”
He’d set out to resolve conflict and only worsened it, yet Juhoon felt no regret. It proved they were fundamentally incompatible, rival crushes or not.
“I’m skipping lunch with you two today,” Juhoon spoke up before Hajun could invite him after morning classes ended. “Grab lunch alone with me tomorrow instead.”
“Huh? That’s so sudden.” Worry crossed Hajun’s face.
“I need to meet a teacher about something this noon,” Juhoon lied smoothly. “Plus I have something private to discuss with you tomorrow, okay?”
“I suppose…”
“Go on then.” Juhoon nodded, spotting Keonho leaning against the classroom doorway out of the corner of his eye.
Park Hajun hesitated to say more, but Juhoon intentionally ignored him, forcing the boy to leave. He bowed his head over his textbook, pretending to solve problems while tracking the doorway movement. Unable to hear their conversation over the classroom noise, Juhoon grew anxious until he looked up minutes later to find both boys gone, his chest twisting with sour jealousy.
Juhoon was assigned classroom cleaning duty after school, another excuse to avoid Keonho. Hajun looked disappointed but didn’t push him. As Juhoon carried a mop toward the stairwell, he caught sight of Keonho and Hajun walking down the stairs together. His heart sank, and he hurried back to the classroom. He’d just exchanged harsh words with Keonho the day before, and now he was hiding like a coward. Keonho was definitely mocking him behind his back.
The classroom emptied by the time he finished chores. He shut off the power, locked the door, and slung his backpack over his shoulder to walk downstairs. The sun sank rapidly, dragging his mood down into dark depths.
He walked alone toward the subway stop and thought back to an evening from before. He was about to walk through the subway gate when Hajun ran up to him out of breath, shouting his name. Hajun had forgotten to give Juhoon his homework back. Juhoon laughed and told him to just send photos later, amused by Hajun’s flustered, sun-flushed face. The leftover sunlight on Hajun’s cheeks had lifted Juhoon’s mood light as wind and clouds.
Today, he swiped his transit card and waited hopefully anyway, only to find the station entrance empty behind him.
Or not entirely empty.
He frowned and spotted Keonho pinned against the station outer wall by a group of five sharply dressed teens, the neatly uniformed swimmer sticking out awkwardly among them. Keonho wore a stony, impatient expression as they argued. Juhoon knew he should walk away immediately. He hated fighting. But his feet refused to move. As he hesitated watching the scene unfold, the lead boy grabbed Keonho by the collar and yanked him forward violently.
“Excuse me, hold on a second!” Juhoon stopped a tall man preparing to enter the turnstile, ignoring his confused stare. “My classmate’s in trouble over there.”
“Ahn Keonho!” Juhoon shouted across the station, drawing everyone’s attention to him. Raising his voice strained his throat, an action he rarely did. “Come over here! What are you waiting for?”
Luckily, the stranger caught on to Juhoon’s signal and waved Keonho over. The bullies released his collar, and Keonho walked toward Juhoon, whose heart pounding and palms sweating.
“Thanks,” Keonho mumbled quietly once they passed through the turnstiles and the helpful stranger departed.
“I thought you’d leave without a second thought.”
A subway train rumbled loudly behind thick glass doors. Keonho stood one pace away from him, voice quiet. Juhoon glanced over, unwilling to engage.
“Just got lucky this time. Don’t count on it again,” Juhoon replied gruffly to end the chat.
Keonho said nothing more as the train pulled into the station. They boarded one after another, and Juhoon walked several carriages ahead to sit separately. His hands still sweated against his pants, nerves frayed from the close call. If he’d left, Keonho would’ve gotten beaten, and logically, that should’ve pleased him. He had no idea why he’d risked interfering.
“Hey, Kim Juhoon.”
Juhoon forgot they shared the same exit stop and stiffened at the familiar voice calling after him.
“About what I said yesterday, I didn’t mean your feelings are worthless. Don’t go.” Keonho hurried to catch up beside him. “I just figured as long as you like Hajun, every time I see you, all I can think about is him. I’m so scared of losing him I can’t even try to get to know you properly.”
“Why would you want to know me? I never offered friendship. We just need to tolerate each other for Hajun’s sake, right?” Juhoon paused, confused.
“Fair enough.” Keonho shifted his gaze awkwardly and shrugged. “Can I join your lunch tomorrow then?”
“No way,” Juhoon refused firmly. “And you owe me a favor for bailing you out today.”
“You’re such a penny-pincher!” Keonho raised his eyebrows and grumbled, but did not argue further.
Juhoon watched his grumpy expression and felt his mood lift a little.