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Chapter Text

Dongmin's head was full of ideas, both reckless and reasonable in their own ways. Depending on his mood he swayed from thought to thought, and being friends with him meant getting to hear all of those thoughts uncensored as they passed through his mind. 

It usually happened during the late hours of the night, when any normal person would be sleeping, but for some reason- Dongmin wasn't. 

 taesan (HATES JAEHYUN) 

I want to dye my hair. like right now

Dongmin had always had a flashy appearance—His natural beauty; those sharp eyes, killer jawline, his slim waist and long legs— It was as if he was made to be eye-catching. 

He never failed to express himself, even dabbling in piercing black eyeliner and silver jewellery to complement his painted nails. He had the style to tie it all together, he just looked good in anything, (or perhaps Donghyun was just utterly biased.)

The text message itself felt light-hearted, Dongmin always floated around the idea of dyeing his hair during their highschool years but ultimately settled with his classic jet black—Not that Donghyun was complaining, he looked attractive either way.

The replies were just like all the other nights Dongmin had sprung a new idea on them;

First Jaehyun would text back, saying something supportive- Blind leading the blind, dare he say. He just enjoys supporting his friends. 

Sanghyuk wouldn't bother replying, rather leaving the two idiots to their own devices whilst Sungho, the only voice of reason, would pop up and tell them to go to sleep. Which left Woonhak and Donghyun reading the messages in the morning— puzzled but amused. 

Honestly, Donghyun had thought about Dongmin dyeing his hair more times than he’d care to admit. He wishes that Dongmin would follow through with it— just imagining him with light brown hair, or maybe a subtle split dye made Donghyun's heart flutter. 

He would look breathtaking, he thought with a lovestruck smile creeping on his face.

No one else seemed to bat an eye at Dongmin's message the following morning, and gradually, the thought fell to the back burner of Donghyun's mind. 

It didn't help that it was exam season, they were stressed, to put it simply. For Donghyun, his weekends that were typically spent daydreaming about Dongmin, or better yet, seeing him in person— were now filled with hours of cram study sessions. 

Donghyun felt tense, hopeless as he drawled through his last class of the day. His head thrummed in pain, aching with the sheer amount of knowledge he was trying to quickly absorb into his brain. He pressed against his temples for relief as the numbing ramble of his lecturer went in one ear and out the other.  

Donghyun's lessons were long and boring, he was usually the last one to finish up with classes out of the six of his friends. Luckily, they didn't mind waiting for him, but that didn't stop them from blowing up their group chat with nonsense. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, the vibrations against his thigh. With each notification, Donghyun's patience ran thinner and thinner, irritating him until he reached his hand and took out his phone. His fingers curiously tapped to scan through the messages when he noticed a private message from Sanghyuk. 

Riwoo hyung ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

dude ur gonna go crazy when u see this 

Riwoo hyung ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

like seriously when are u getting here

His mind circled back and forth to earlier conversations— Did they plan something that completely flew over his head? Donghyun couldn't recall. 

His fingers typed away at his phone, hands buzzing with interest. It was a simple question, what could Sanghyuk be referencing?

Riwoo hyung ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

Dude!! Its taesan!!! you need to get here ASAP you are gonna flip istg 

Anticipation settled at the tips of Donghyun’s fingers as he chewed his lip. His eyes flickered to the time on his phone— ten more minutes left. He needed this class to finish, his mind was far from being able to comprehend the words coming out of the lecturers mouth. Rather it was full of Dongmin, and the multiple questions he had about him. 

Had he finally gotten those vinyls he kept telling them about? 

Maybe he was trying out a new makeup look?

Donghyun tapped his foot against the floor impatiently as he let out a sigh of frustration. Only three minutes had passed.

Hurry up!! Donghyun inwardly ushered time to speed up as he death stared the clock. 

He looked back at the messages Sanghyuk sent with knitted brows. Donghyun didn't know when Dongmin had become a topic of conversation between the two— honestly, he was sure that Sanghyuk knew about his feelings towards Dongmin before he did himself. 

It wasn't like he tried to hide it very well; The looks of affection, fond smiles, tame giddiness to be by Dongmin's side. It was blatant to everyone but Donghyun for a while. 

He supposed it was natural for these feelings to catch up to him. How could he possibly not fall inlove with Dongmin? Not when he was everything Donghyun had ever dreamt of. 

Dongmin was shy, with a cold exterior to any stranger walking past him, but if you took the time to get to know him, youd find that he was rich with love; a sweet, gooey centre. He was caring in a special, subtly raw way— a way that felt genuine and sincere all at once. 

Dongmin cared about Donghyun, he knew he did. But not in the way Donghyun had hoped he would. 

-

Donghyun speed walked out of the classroom as soon as dismissal was announced. He weaved through students without bothering with an 'excuse me' or anything adjacent. He needed to see his friends— he needed to see Dongmin. 

He clutched his backpack straps as his speed walking slowly levelled up to a steady jog down the street. He wasn’t one to break into a sweat easily. Who would’ve thought a few texts could get him this worked up? He was itching to find out what happened— Screw Sanghyuk for being so cryptic!! 

As Donghyun began to near their meeting point, which was a simple skatepark that Dongmin and Jaehyun frequented, he let himself slow to a walk to catch his breath. 

His eyes wandered around trying to spot his friends before he heard the loud shriek of Woonhak to his left. Donghyun turned his head, squinting as the sun blinded his vision. He groaned, walking up to his friends while shielding his eyes with one hand from the bright rays casting down. 

Donghyun didn't notice at first, the faint sting of burning light in his face had him teary eyed. He sniffled softly and rubbed a hand over his face, blinking once. Twice. 

Then his eyes landed on it. How could they not? He knew right away who had his back turned to him, whose hair was a bright, vibrant red. Of  course he would've chosen red. It was so Dongmin of him to, it was so perfect. 

Dongmin with red hair. Dongmin? Dyed his hair red? Dongmin has red hair? 

Donghyun's mind short circuited as he kept staring at the head of hair in-front of him. He couldn't believe his eyes— was he dreaming? He shouldn't be this worked up over a simple colour change yet here he was, malfunctioning. 

Despite the flashy colour, Dongmin's hair looked so soft, so inviting. All Donghyun wanted to do was reach out and run his fingers through the precious locks. He wondered how Dongmin would react, would he lean into it? Maybe Dongmin would let him pull it or- 

"What are you doing Leehan?" 

A voice knocked Donghyun out of his thoughts, he blinked absentmindedly, falling back into consciousness. His eyes flickered towards his hand, that was midway in the air, inches from Dongmins head. 

He immediately dropped his arm and smiled sheepishly as Dongmin stared at him with slight confusion. Donghyun gulped harshly as his eyes travelled across his features. Dongmin looked beautiful— the bright red hair contrasting with the plump pinkness of his lips was driving Donghyun crazy. 

He wasn't sure if he could manage to fight the burning hot blush from spreading across his face when it came to looking Dongmin in the eye. 

"Your hair!" Donghyun squeaked out with a toothy smile. "It's red! Wow!" His words came out mildly exasperated as they fell from his mouth. Dongmin's expression changed to a small smirk as he shyly looked downwards. "Oh yeah, it was kind of a last minute decision, Not sure if it fits me." 

"What? It fits you perfectly, you look so pretty," Donghyun said, faster than his brain could tell him to zip his lips. He felt a piece of himself wither away with embarrassment, looking over at Sanghyuk who fashioned an amused smirk towards him. 

Dongmin smiled at Donghyun, flustered by the small compliment. "Thank you Leehanie~," he chuckled. 

Donghyun's heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest from how fast it was beating— And it was all Han Dongmin's fault. Him and his stupid beautiful red hair, his gorgeous face— Donghyun was sure if looks could kill, he'd be long gone by now. 

All Donghyun could do was muster up a weak smile before turning to the rest of the group, who were chattering amongst themselves. 

He tried to join in on the banter as they walked out of the skatepark but he found his eyes wandering back to Dongmin and his striking hair. It was mesmerising, the way the breeze flowed through his hair, exposing his chiseled side profile to Donghyun walking beside him. 

He felt a tingling heat rise up his neck as he looked at Dongmin from the corner of his eye. It was incredibly easy to get lost in the way Dongmin moved, how effortlessly he held himself with a graceful smile. He ached for his embrace—every brush of their fingers lit up his nerves like fire. 

Woonhak let out a whine as Dongmin pinched his cheek, slinging a lazy arm around his shoulders. A cute display, just friends play fighting, but that didn't change the mild jealousy bubbling up within Donghyun. It stung more than it should have. Dongmin was always warm, always teasing, but never with him. Donghyun couldn’t help but wonder—was he the exception? Or just not special enough?

He brushed away the thoughts, shaking his head when Sungho announced, "Come on guys! We're here~" Donghyun looked up as they followed Sungho towards the apartment block. 

Ever since Sungho began college, he had been whining nonstop about his terrible roommate's— how dirty they were, how loud they were, how annoying they were —he is very picky about who he lives with. But when Jaehyun casually offered to get an apartment with him (he was practically begging Sungho to live together), he couldn't decline. 

This was the first time Donghyun had been to their new apartment. He hadn’t had time to visit—his life had been a mess of regrets and last-minute studying ever since the semester caught up to him. "Don't expect anything crazy fancy," Sungho warned Donghyun playfully as the group waited for Jaehyun to unlock the door. 

The door opened dramatically as Jaehyun made sound effects— from the side, Dongmin rolled his eyes with a smile on his face, clearly amused by Jaehyun's antics. Donghyun's breath caught in his throat as he stared at him, the redness of his hair catching his attention again. 

Call Donghyun crazy but he was one hundred percent sure the red hair made his smile ten times more attractive. He was stunned, in awe, in love. 

Donghyun rushed into the apartment, in desperate need to hide his growing blush. He started to untie his shoes when he felt a hand on his shoulder, he looked to the side to see Sanghyuk. "Your staring is so obvious," He said, barely holding in his laughter. 

Donghyun pouted and shoved him playfully. "I'm trying as hard as I can, I mean it's hard not to stare... he looks so.." He trailed off, his eyes narrowing down to the floor. "pretty..." he mumbled, shyer than before. 

Donghyun’s face burned hotter. He ducked his head, hiding behind a breathy laugh. There was no point in denying it. Not when the word “pretty” tasted so right on his tongue.

-

The group's conversation shifted into the main living area of the apartment. Woonhak and Jaehyun were sitting infront of the television, playing Mario Kart whilst Sungho sat on a beanbag, chatting away with the other three on the sofa. 

It was a soft moment, the kind that Donghyun  never failed to cherish. From feeling outcasted back in highschool, to being surrounded by friends that truly understood him— it changed him a lot. He was so grateful. 

A smile tugged at his lips as he looked at Sanghyuk who was ranting about his dance teacher when he felt a hand on his arm. 

"Leehan, can you come get a snack with me?" Donghyun turned, startled to find Dongmin’s face just inches away. The closeness alone nearly knocked the wind from his chest. He could see all the little details— The way his red hair hung over his pleading eyes, searching for Donghyun's approval to follow him into the kitchen. It made his heart stutter and his palms clammy. 

"Oh, yeah-yeah, sure," He stumbled out, already rising from his spot on the couch. Dongmin led the way, his fingers brushing briefly against Donghyun’s wrist before dropping away. The apartment buzz softened as they stepped into the kitchen’s quiet hum—the low fridge motor, the faint clink of glasses. 

Dongmin reached for a glass in the cupboard above their heads. "Do you want some?" He offered, pulling out another glass for Donghyun. He nodded and let Dongmin manoeuvre around the kitchen, before returning back to Donghyun's side. 

The shared quiet was broken when Dongmin spoke again. "You okay, Leehan?"  His eyes never met Donghyun's, rather they were trained on pouring their drinks. 

It was a simple question. One that shouldn't mean much to either of them, but it hung so deep in his chest. Maybe it was because they were alone, together— maybe because he just needed someone to ask him how he was— or maybe it was just because it was Dongmin who asked, but it made him want to spill his heart out. 

Of course, he wasn't reckless. He didn't want to risk the meaningful bond he had created with Dongmin, one he cherished so deeply that he wouldn't let feelings slip through the cracks of desire for more. 

"I'm okay," He said, quicker than he meant it to come out. Dongmin hummed, handing a glass over to Donghyun. "You seem quiet— I mean, more quiet than usual," he shrugged. 

It wasn't a wrong observation. He was. Donghyun was too busy staring. He couldn't take his eyes off of Dongmin and it was driving him crazy. His mouth ran dry looking at him. 

"You kind of remind me of a strawberry with your new hair," Donghyun blurted out between his thoughts.  

Dongmin finally looked up, brows raised. “A strawberry?” he echoed, then smiled—really smiled, the kind that made Donghyun’s heart somersault. "That’s a first,” he chuckled, cheeks dusting pink. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Donghyun barely registered Dongmin’s words—his mind was still stuck on the fact that he’d said that out loud.

Dongmin wasn't weirded out by his comment? In fact, it made him smile, giggle— in the light and airy way that had Donghyuns stomach swirling with butterflies.

He opened his mouth to say more when a head poked through the doorway. "Ah, there you two are! We're about to do a Mario Kart tournament! Hurry up!" Sungho rushed out excitedly, without a mention of the charged energy in the air. He dipped away as fast as he appeared, leaving the two alone again. 

Donghyun looked over to Dongmin— eyes meeting a familiar gaze. 

It was always a question to outsiders; How do two such polar opposites find themselves magnetised to each other constantly?

Their bond was unlike others. They never said much to each other, but they knew everything the other was feeling. Unspoken communication, one through simple actions— moments of shared eye contact. 

It was an art they had mastered from years of lingering in their shared space. Donghyun found the silence with Dongmin as comforting as the cherished conversations they had. He learned to love it all. 

Dongmin was always the shyer one, he looked away first, his fingers flexing around the glass in his hand. "We should go back in," He whispered, his eyes darting to the side. Donghyun admired the soft blush dusted on his face after the eye contact, his fingers curled into his palm as he fought the gentle ache of need. The need to reach in and kiss Dongmin. 

His eyes flicked once more to that bright red hair; so soft, so vivid. Like a strawberry ripe with secrets he wasn’t brave enough to taste.

The rest of the night fell back into normality, Donghyun took his seat back on the couch, his mind still spinning from the scene in the kitchen. The moment Dongmin did anything, Donghyun turned to mush—cheeks red, heart racing, barely holding back the urge to grab his face and kiss him senseless.

Dongmin had rushed over to play, being competitive as he is. He sat in front of the television with a blanket over his crossed legs as he took a controller from Sungho. 

Donghyun watched from above on the couch, the way he swayed from side to side as he bickered with Jaehyun, who he was against in the race. The way his red hair bounced with every move, his exposed nape sending a shiver down Donghyun's spine. 

Dongmin craned his neck to the boys behind him, exposing the slope of his neck. Donghyun was on fire, his eyes barely managing to look away from the way his adams apple moved when he laughed. A few strands of hair fell infront of his face as he giggled, Donghyun noticed it right away. He found it endearing, the way Dongmin would run a hand through his hair just for it would fall back into place. 

Along the way, his train of thought must've stumbled into actions as Donghyun had slid off the edge of the sofa, shifting to Dongmin's side. He was still chatting with the others, not even aware of Donghyun getting closer. 

Before he even realised what he was doing, his body moved first—quiet instinct, drawn by the way that strand danced across Dongmin’s cheek. 

He hesitated, hand hovering for a moment. Was it too much? Too soft, too soon? But his fingers moved anyway, tucking the strand behind Dongmin’s ear like it was second nature. 

It was a subtle, feather light touch. It wasn't an act of desperation, it was friendly, but it made Donghyun's ears burn up as Dongmin's eyes flickered to meet his gaze. A look of surprise, it made Donghyun's worries melt away— he looked like a shocked kitten. 

Dongmin's eyes softened, "Thank you," he muttered with a shy smile tugging on his lips. Donghyun’s lips twitched into a smile, heart thudding beneath his ribs. He turned to retreat (maybe escape the warmth crawling up his neck) when Dongmin’s voice stopped him in his tracks. 

"Sit beside me, Leehanie?" 

There was nothing remarkable about the way Dongmin said it—soft, easy—but it landed like something sacred. Dongmin had always been hesitant when it came to asking for something, and Donghyun waited either way. 

Donghyun had waited years to be wanted like that, even in the smallest ways.

“Y-Yeah, of course,” Donghyun stammered, the words tumbling out before he could gather them into something smoother. He hoped his grin didn’t give away how his chest was quietly falling apart. It was just an empty spot on the floor beside him, but Donghyun had never wanted to fill a space more in his life. 

Donghyun settled beside him, the space suddenly warmer, heavier, just from their shoulders brushing. Dongmin shifted, pulling the blanket from around himself and spreading it over both their legs. His hand grazed Donghyun’s thigh in the process—casual, fleeting, yet it sent a current straight through him.

Although it went unnoticed by Dongmin, it unintentionally set Donghyun's senses on fire. The softness of those hands, he craved them. He’d let Dongmin explore every inch of him, if only he’d reach.

It was a struggle to look away, not when Dongmin’s smallest movements tugged at him like a thread wrapped tight around his chest. Donghyun’s eyes traced the movement of Dongmin’s hands as they reached for the controller again—fluid, unhurried, familiar. 

His gaze lingered. The pads of Dongmin’s fingers were tinted a soft pink—maybe from the dye? Donghyun wasn’t sure. But he adored it, like every quiet detail that made Dongmin feel just a little more real, a little more his.

He loved the small aspects of Dongmin, his little quirks and mannerisms that are just so effortlessly him.  Like how he never wore gloves when handling dye, always shrugging it off with a grin, even when his fingers stayed stained for days. It was silly, kind of reckless, and so painfully endearing. 

There were other things too, the quiet mannerisms and soft quirks Donghyun had collected over the years, almost without noticing. Like how he always covered his mouth whenever he was showered with compliments, his shy side shining through. How he always tugged at the sleeves of his hoodie when he was cold, or how he would always stop to pet a cat if he spotted it on the street. Just another part of his charm—a quiet warmth with a rocky exterior. 

They were small, treasured pieces of Dongmin that Donghyun will always cherish. He kept them safely stored in the corners of his heart, where longing settled and never quite left. 

He exhaled through his nose, a fond smile curling at his lips. He didn’t need words. Sitting here, with Dongmin’s warmth brushing against his side, felt like all the confessions he was too afraid to say—spoken in silence.

Time slipped through Donghyun’s fingers like sand—between the chaos of Mario Kart, Just Dance, and the endless nonsense they rambled to each other, night fell quietly around them. Tiredness creeped up on the boys like a low whisper, one by one, they started to lull into their personal dreamworlds, fast asleep— the quiet hum of the movie they were watching mixing with the soft snores in the background. 

Donghyun wasn't one to stay up, but this particular night his brain was working overtime. He tried to ignore the fluttering in his stomach, the heat creeping up the back of his neck as his eyes flickered down to the weight on his shoulder. 

Somewhere along the way, Dongmin dozed off, resting his head on Donghyun's shoulder. He leaned in, his soft cheeks rubbing against the fabric of his sweater in his sleep. Donghyun could feel the subtle tingle of his hair brushing away his face when he turned to stare down at him. 

Dongmin looked impossibly peaceful beside him; his lips gently parted, cheeks softly flushed, skin glowing faintly in the dim light. His red hair framed his face like the petals of something blooming—sweet, vivid. Like a strawberry Donghyun wanted to take a bite out of. 

He bit his lip, heart thudding, before his hand rose, slow, hesitant, hovering just above that bright, familiar hair. 

He let his fingers drift through Dongmin’s hair, combing gently through the strands. He started to pet him lightly, his touch gentle but soothing against Dongmin's scalp. He watched the movie in intervals, eyes drifting down to Dongmin again and again—drawn to the way his chest rose and fell, slow and steady. This was all Donghyun had ever wanted, it felt so special, so domestic. 

Deep down though, Donghyun knew he shouldn't be letting his own feelings get in his way. He had to remind himself that this wasn't another one of his dreams; another reality that he and Dongmin were both happily together.

He slowly withdrew his hand from Dongmin's hair, it was slightly messy, with pieces sticking up from the way Donghyun had played with it. He drank in every detail, from the messy hair, parted lips to the faint crease between his brows; each one sweet and aching. And yet, his heart throbbed with something too close to longing to ignore.

Still asleep, Dongmin shifted in his space? leaning into where Donghyun’s touch had been, a soft whine slipping from his lips. Donghyun froze, heart twisting, afraid even to breathe.

Donghyun stared ahead, eyes locked on the television, though none of it registered. Slowly, he raised his hand again, his touch gentle, cautious— like Dongmin might shatter beneath it. His fingers drifted through Dongmin’s hair, slow and tender, his touch barely more than a whisper against his scalp.

His eyebrows relaxed and his face softened into a content smile— the reaction alone melted Donghyun's heart as he finally had the courage to tear his eyes away from the movie playing. He didn't expect his crush to be leaning on his shoulder, asleep as Donghyun played with his hair, let alone get this close to him in the first place.  

It was dizzying having Dongmin soft and sleeping against him, trusting him in this way. It felt like sharing a secret, one too precious to speak aloud. 

He treasured every moment of it, even if a part of him swallowed the bitter feeling in his throat— the silent knowing that despite their bond, it will never blossom into anything more than platonic. But none of that mattered right now. Not when Dongmin was with him. 

Donghyun twirled a strand of Dongmin’s hair between his fingers, eyelids becoming heavier as the minutes ticked by until sleep consumed him wholly.  

~

The apartment was still silent by the time morning came, the usual bustle of daytime rushing around the house was instead filled with soft snores and sleeping boys. By the time midday arrived, the once quiet home was consumed by the soft clatter of dishes and sizzle of frying meat on the stove. 

 It took Donghyun a moment to remember where he was, he blinked slowly as he adjusted his eyes to the glare of sunlight casting down on him. He was exhausted, as much as he wanted to stay awake; the lack of sleep seemed to drag him down. He just groaned lowly and leaned into the warmth he rested on. 

"Ah, you're awake?" A voice chimed, catching Donghyun's attention. His body froze as he realized where he had fallen asleep—the steady heartbeat beneath his cheek gave it away. He must've moved into Dongmin's arms. Shit.

Donghyun pulled away, rushing out a string of apologies as the embarrassment caught up to him. His throat dried up. He couldn’t look at Dongmin—couldn’t bear to see disgust or confusion on his face. He braced for it, chest tightening.

He ran a hand through his hair, eyes darting from left to right until they landed back on Dongmin— who stared back with a raised eyebrow, stopping him in his tracks. 

"It's okay, Leehanie, I didn't mind holding you," He tugged at his sleeve and gave a half-smile, like it wasn’t a big deal, his voice laced with a careful sincerity. Donghyun was at a loss for words. He didn't expect him to say anything like that. 

He had been wrong. And that terrified him

“You two look cozy. Finally ready to wake up and join the land of the living?” Jaehyun smirked, tossing himself onto the couch and slinging an arm around Dongmin’s shoulder like he belonged there. Donghyun’s eye twitched as he watched it happen, the ease with which Jaehyun filled the space beside Dongmin, his space, moments ago.

Maybe it was a blessing, he thought. Letting Jaehyun cut through the silence he’d been too afraid to break.

He knew his stare was heavy on Dongmin as the words replayed in his mind. Was it even possible? Could Dongmin be fawning over him, or was it just his own heart—so full of want and love, guiding him blindly toward something that wasn’t real?

He couldn’t afford to get his hopes up, not when the risk meant losing the boy he’d loved for what felt like lifetimes.

So Donghyun just stared silently, watching the two of them laugh, feeling like a ghost on the outside of a boy he wanted too much.

It was hard to imagine a world without Dongmin in it—especially when he seemed to belong so perfectly in every version of Donghyun’s future. He was the constant, the comfort, the quiet center of it all. Losing him would be losing the only pillar keeping him standing upright. 

Donghyun would give up his own happiness if it meant Dongmin kept smiling. He loved the way his eyes turned to crescents when he laughed, how he always tried to stifle it when Jaehyun cracked another dumb joke. Donghyun’s chest ached with the force of it—he wanted Dongmin to be happy forever, for eternity.

His gaze drifted again to the soft, vivid red of Dongmin’s hair. The curve of his bangs, the way they bounced when he moved, it was hypnotic. Donghyun never meant to stare, but he always did. And every time Dongmin squirmed under the weight of his gaze, something darker and deeper stirred inside him.

Dongmin would always catch him. He’d try to hold the eye contact, then shy away after a few seconds, cheeks tinted pink.

“Leehan-ah, you look like you’re about to eat me,” he whined with a smile, ducking behind his hands. Donghyun only blinked at him, lips tugging into a smirk, the reaction feeding something electric in his chest. 

~ 

Donghyun was a talkative person. (Out of nerves? He wasn't too sure.) He went on rants often— about everything and anything. From his fishkeeping hobby to his conspiracies about aliens, if the someone listened—he'd speak. 

As the evening crept in and the group began to part ways, Donghyun wasn’t surprised to find himself walking beside Dongmin again. Somehow, they always ended up like this. As if there was a thread tied between them, quietly pulling them back into each other’s orbit.

He liked walking with Dongmin. The other boy never said much, but he was always there, strolling casually with his hands in his pockets, his gaze flicking between the empty streets and the passing scenery.

Even if he seemed detached, Donghyun knew he was listening. Dongmin always remembered things. He took in every detail, tucking them away for later. 

Dongmin didn’t open up much himself. Donghyun had tried, gently, over time—but his efforts were always met with a quiet deflection.

“It’s okay,” Dongmin would say, voice soft, “I like hearing you talk.”

The words were always so genuine, so unbothered, that the heat flushing Donghyun’s cheeks couldn’t be blamed on the weather.

Maybe that’s why he was caught off guard when Dongmin was the one to finally break the silence.

“Do you think it looks bad?” Dongmin mumbled.

“Huh?” Donghyun blinked, glancing over in confusion. He watched Dongmin fidget with his hair, brows furrowed in quiet frustration.

“My hair,” Dongmin sighed, lips curving into a pout as he tugged his hood up over his head. “Maybe it’s… too much.”

Donghyun nearly snapped his neck turning to face him, eyes wide. The words hit him like a slap—Dongmin? Insecure? About that hair?

It felt criminal. A tragedy. Like watching a star forget it could shine.

His hands twitched at his sides, aching to reach out and cradle Dongmin’s face, to tell him everything. That his hair was the sun that lit Donghyun’s whole sky. That he’d spent the last twenty-four hours dazed, drunk off the softness, the brightness, the color of it all.

He deserved to know. He deserved to know what he did to Donghyun’s heart. 

“Too much? Taesan, you look perfect. Like, crazy perfect.” He didn’t know when his legs stopped moving. Maybe it was the beat of stinging silence that followed the reckless comment, or maybe it was the way Dongmin stared back at him with that gaping expression. 

Donghyun’s eyes flickered back and forth between his eyes, trying to read in between the lines, a desperate attempt to make sense of his expression— to catch an ounce of emotion he could hold onto.

His thoughts churned in his stomach, dread catching sharp in his throat. All he did was fear— Had he said something wrong? Had he said too much?

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–” Donghyun felt the fear rising in his chest as he tried to shove the words back in his mouth. How desperately he wanted to rewind time just to spare him from the look on Dongmin’s face, but all he could do was panic. 

“Do you really think that?” Dongmin’s words came out above a whisper, tender and shy, as if he was tip-toeing around a sleeping bear. All Donghyun could do was freeze as his question sunk in. 

It was all too simple for Donghyun, he could see Dongmin’s beauty so easily but the other couldn’t see the way it made his brain short-circuit. How every movement seemed to lock him in a trance, every word that came out his mouth made him nervous— every touch making him giddy. 

He sucked in a breath before letting it go, his shoulders relaxing. His eyes flickered up to meet Dongmin’s, studying the look of hesitation written all over him. He was so easy to read when he was face to face with Donghyun like this. With the fear so clearly glistening in his eyes. 

“Of course I do, Taesan-ah,” Donghyun’s nails dug into the palm of his hand as he spoke, as though the sting might distract him from whatever pain Dongmin’s words were about to bring. Except they never came. All that followed was silence so jarring it made Donghyun feel a disgusting wave of nausea pass through him. 

Dongmin’s gaze dropped for a second, his fingers curling slightly at his sides. The way he shifted on his feet caught Donghyuns attention, it was a small, unsure movement making his breath hitch. Dongmin’s lips were parted like he wanted to say something but hadn’t quite gathered the words yet. 

“...You always say things like that,” he murmured, eyebrows drawing together. 

Donghyun blinked. “Like what?” 

“Like I’m beautiful. Like I’m… worth something.” His voice cracked ever so slightly at the end. He looked away again, chewing on his bottom lip. “It messes with my head.”

Donghyun’s heart stuttered. 

This was a side of Dongmin he had never been graced with, it wasn't like the confident ‘Taesan’ he projected when he performed on stage, nor was it the quiet ‘Dongminie’ that sat playing with the loose thread of his jumper. No, this was different, an unseen version of him. 

Dongmin had always struggled to express his feelings. Hearing them spill out now, so suddenly, made Donghyun realise how differently he shone under the night sky. The way the street lights hugged at his features, contouring the subtle frown pulling at his lips. He couldn’t help but look up at his hair, the light bouncing off the vivid red, putting Donghyun in a trance. 

“And that look… You always give me that look,” Dongmin’s voice was strained as he spoke, running a hand through his hair, as if he had been fighting an inner battle against his own thoughts. 

“You look at me with that hunger in your eyes, like you adore me,” He scoffed, his lips quirked up into a small smirk before staring at Donghyun— tired eyes meeting his own. 

A sigh left Dongmin’s lips. “But I know…” he trailed off, shaking his head. 

“Never mind.” 

Something itched at Donghyun. It told him to speak up, act on his words and prove him wrong but his mouth never moved. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move, only stand there, helpless, as shame crept up Dongmin’s face. 

“I-I need to go,” Dongmin whispered, brushing past Donghyun as he walked away. He moved without thinking, grabbing his wrist to stop him from running away. 

“Taesan I-” 

But Dongmin flinched. It wasn’t subtle— it was sharp, like Donghyun’s hand had scalded him. He pulled back as if he was burned, his breath catching in his throat. 

Donghyun’s hand lingered in the air, frozen in place, his fingers curling around nothing. His chest tightened. It was like the whole world had taken a step back from him.

The sudden coldness hit him like a slap. Not just the air, but Dongmin’s silence, the emptiness where closeness used to fill the space. 

“Forget it,” Dongmin’s voice was quiet and trembling, his gaze never meeting the eyes staring him down. “Forget everything I said, please Leehan.” 

It was a pathetic sight— Donghyun letting the boy of his dreams slip through his grasp. He felt suffocated, choked up by his own stupidity as Dongmin faded out of view. He felt helpless with how things seemed to have flipped upside down in the matter of seconds. Then the pain settled deep in his gut, a sharp stinging twist in his throat as the tears welled up. 

The one he adored the most, shattered to pieces by his own actions. He’d never forget the look on Dongmin’s face; his tear brimmed eyes and trembling lip felt like a stab to the heart. 

Donghyun didn’t follow his trail. He didn’t even try to text him— his mind stuck on autopilot mode. There were so many things he wished to take back, so many ways he would have comforted Dongmin. He just wanted to spill his heart out, but his own mind wouldn’t let him. 

Perhaps he was a coward. Too scared to face his own feelings that he ended up misleading the one person whom he's ever loved. Donghyun gritted his teeth as he pushed open the door of his dorm, throwing off his shoes in frustration. 

He couldn’t be mad at anyone but himself. All Donghyun could do was stare at the ceiling as he laid on his bed, mind spinning, chest heavy, shivering— missing the warmth of the blanket he once shared with Dongmin. 

~

Everything had shifted after that night with Dongmin. Donghyun moved like a ghost, phasing through his days as they bled into one indistinguishable blur.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he’d gone outside—maybe days, maybe longer. The passage of time felt meaningless under the weight of the guilt pressing down on his chest like a stone.

His phone lay untouched beside him, still on silent, the group chat unread. He couldn’t bear to look. He gripped his bedsheets so tightly his knuckles ached, trying to hold himself together.

A single thought gnawed at him, low and constant: they were better off without him. Facing them meant facing that night. Facing Dongmin.

And he couldn’t do either. 

The only thing that broke him out of the spiral was a loud knock on the door one morning, startling him back into reality. He hadn’t ordered anything. His roommate had left early for classes. There was no reason for anyone to be here.

Half-tempted to ignore it, Donghyun stayed frozen until the pounding grew louder, more insistent. He groaned, dragging himself into the living area, running a hand through his tangled hair. 

Donghyun cracked the door open slightly—

“Hey dude” 

Jaehyun’s voice rang out before Donghyun could react. The door swung open fully as Jaehyun stepped in uninvited, he set a white plastic bag down beside him, bending down to untie his shoes as he ranted about some random chaos that went on during his morning class.

Donghyun just blinked, too stunned to stop him.

“Why are you here, hyung?” He cut him off abruptly.

Jaehyun stayed quiet, his gaze facing the door, deep in thought. He let out a sigh before looking up to meet Donghyun’s face, staring, really staring. It made Donghyun feel small under his gaze. He hated it. How easy it was for Jaehyun to get under his skin. 

“Leehan, you've not replied in days,” he sighed, clenching and unclenching his fists. “groupchat’s been basically dead without your fish rants,” he scoffed, voice lighter than his expression. 

Donghyun’s mouth opened, then shut again. There were no excuses. 

“And Taesan.” Jaehyun continued, voice dropping lower. “He’s been off too. Won’t say why, just keeps zoning out. Even snapped at Woonhak the other day— Woonhak. That's how you know somethings wrong.”

A bitter taste settled in Donghyun’s mouth, stomach twisting at the mention of his name. 

Dongmin was upset. And it was because of him. There was no worse feeling than that. 

“I sorta put two and two together,” Jaehyun added, holding up the plastic bag. “And bought you your favourite drink. Oh and also that weird tasting ramen you eat whenever you're upset.” 

“...I’m not upset,” Donghyun mumbled, yet he didn't even believe his own words.

Jaehyun just snorted and made his way to the kitchen, already filling the kettle with water. “Right, and I'm debuting in a ballet next month.”

Donghyun sank onto the couch, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms.

There was a pause, the quiet simmer of the kettle filling the air. 

“What happened?” Jaehyun finally spoke, not looking at him, busy pouring the water into the pan with noodles. Donghyun let his head fall back, eyes glued to a dark spot on the ceiling. 

The question hung in the air like smoke. He felt himself choking up at the thought of Dongmin, clouding his thoughts with mist. 

Truthfully, a part of him didn’t want to admit that he was the reason Dongmin was acting like this, but the other part didn’t know what to say. Donghyun was afraid, afraid of spilling the truth that he had kept within him for so achingly long. Too many questions floated through his mind;

How would Jaehyun react? Would he be mad? Disgusted? Both?

Will he stop being friends with him? 

Does Dongmin even realise this has affected him as well? 

Donghyun gritted his teeth, eyes diverted towards the ground, “It’s nothing… exam stress at most, I dunno.” Pathetic excuse. 

Jaehyun saw right through his blatant lie.

“Bullshit. Tell me the truth,” Jaehyun said, setting the steaming bowl of ramen on the table. He didn’t sit—just stared, sharp-eyed, towering over Donghyun like he could will the truth out of him.

After a beat of silence, Jaehyun sat on the floor, picking up the chopsticks. “Fine! I guess the ramen is all mine,” he said, already digging into the meal. Donghyun snapped his head, watching the teasing lilt of his face as he brought the noodles to his mouth. 

“...Okay,” Donghyun exhaled, shoulders sagging, “I’ll tell you everything.” 

_

His mouth ran dry as he sat face to face with Jaehyun. It felt as though a stone was lodged in his throat, his hands clenched in his lap, the silence stretching longer than it should’ve. Jaehyun didn’t say anything, he just drummed his fingers on the table like he had all the time in the world. It was annoying. Infuriating yet comforting. Exactly what Donghyun needed. 

He exhaled, finally saying, “It’s about Dongmin…” 

Jaehyun’s eyes flickered up in interest, the soft thrum on his fingertips against the wooden table stopping. 

“I…I think I messed up,” Donghyun stared at the palm of his hands, voice barely audible. “No. I know I did.” 

The intense stare that Jaehyun gave him sent a cold shiver down his neck, yet he never interrupted.  Donghyun swallowed thickly. “He told me something. Something personal. Something raw. And I just..froze. I couldn’t say what I needed to say. I couldn’t tell him how I feel.” 

Donghyun paused, gnawing at the inside of his cheek. 

“He thinks I pity him, like I’m doing him a favour but I’m not. It’s never been like that… I’ve just always been in love with him.” He took a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. Donghyun’s eyes never looked away from the floor as he spoke, the words spilling out like a burst pipe.  He couldn’t stop himself. “It’s exhausting— Like everytime he walks into the room I forget how to function. I can't look at him without falling a little harder.”

 His voice cracked, “And now he’s hurting because of me. Because I just let him walk away.” 

The air was thick and heavy with the weight of Donghyun’s words. 

 “I guess I never realised he was already giving me a thousand chances to tell him how I felt, how long I've dreamed of loving him. And now… he’s gone. He walked away and I didn’t even stop him.” 

Donghyun’s head dropped, shoulders tense as the build up of guilt began to twist in his stomach. “I’m an idiot,” He finished with a deep sigh. 

Jaehyun let out a long sigh, finally sliding the bowl to Donghyun’s side of the table. “Yeah,” he said. “You kinda are.”

Donghyun blinked, caught off guard.

“But you’re not heartless. And you’re not too late—yet.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You love him? Then do something about it. Be there. Or someone else will be, and you’ll hate yourself for letting that happen.”

_

Donghyun barely got any sleep that night. He couldn’t rest. Not when his mind was working overtime, thinking of ways to piece together the fragile feelings he’d carelessly shattered.

When morning came, that dull ache in his chest returned, heavier than ever. He tried to distract himself from the static hum in the back of his head.

The guilt that clung onto him like a second skin, one that he desperately wanted to crawl out of. Donghyun wasn’t sure where his legs were carrying him as he moved through the streets of Seoul. He carried himself inwards, shoulders hunched with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, he weaved through crowds with ease until he turned down a familiar alley. One that felt carved into him now.

And there it was.

The skate park.

Donghyun told himself he didn’t come here on purpose. That it was a coincidence. That his heart hadn’t dragged him right to the place Dongmin always disappeared to.

The scent of distant cigarette smoke clung to the air, mingling with the rhythmic scratch of wheels on concrete. His eyes locked onto a familiar figure in the distance; sitting on his skateboard, one leg pulled up, beanie low over his hair. Even still, Donghyun knew him instantly.

Dongmin. 

He was never hard to spot, even before the vivid red hair. Dongmin had the kind of presence that turned heads— those sharp eyes, the quiet charisma, a posture that made everything he did seem effortless. 

Donghyun’s heart twisted. From the first time he’d seen Dongmin across the cafeteria, quiet, self-contained yet mesmerising, to now— where he sat alone beneath a grey sky, Donghyun knew his feelings hadn’t dulled.

If anything, they’d grown louder.

He looked different now, though. Not in how he dressed, but in how he held himself. A bit more folded inward. A little more guarded. 

Donghyun watched him intently, the stare bordering on reverent. He took in the way Dongmin pulled out his phone, stared at the screen, and tucked it back in his pocket with a small sigh.

The frown that lingered on his lips. It made Donghyun wonder: had he crossed his mind? Was Dongmin thinking of him, missing him, wanting him the way he did?

Their bond had always been something delicate, quietly intimate. Every shared glance, every accidental brush of skin, felt like something sacred. They walked so carefully around each other, never daring to say too much—but Donghyun had always felt it. That electricity. That possibility.

The nights were the worst. Lying in bed where he was chasing memories of Dongmin’s voice, wishing he could feel the press of his warmth beside him—he wanted all of it. All of Dongmin. In every way. He just hoped—prayed—that maybe, somehow, Dongmin wanted the same.

Donghyun wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there, lost in thought. But something in the air shifted when Dongmin’s head turned—and their eyes met.

Neither of them moved. For a breath, maybe two, they just stared, letting the quiet recognition sink in. Like the world had narrowed down to this single moment.

And just like that, Donghyun forgot how to breathe.

Dongmin was the first to move, eyes darting to the floor in a subtle panic. Donghyun watched as he tensed, the guilt coiling in his stomach again. 

That didn’t stop him from moving further, approaching Dongmin with a steady stride. Donghyun stood over him, his shadow falling across Dongmin, who stared at the ground like he hadn’t noticed, even though they both knew he had.

“I know you saw me, Taesan,” he said softly, making him flinch. After a moment of silence passed, Donghyun crouched down and moved closer to his body. “I need to talk to you,” Donghyun’s voice was shaky with nerves. His heart pounded like it wanted to climb out of his chest.

“Okay,” Dongmin quietly replied as he played with the drawstrings of his hoodie, a nervous habit. 

Donghyun swallowed down his nerves, running a hand through his hair. His eyes flickered up to scan Dongmin’s face. “I didn’t mean to confuse you the other night,” Donghyun said with furrowed eyebrows. “I just.. didn’t know how to tell you that I think you’re beautiful. That I've always thought so.” 

Dongmin’s fidgeting hands halted as he searched for any sort of silent lie in his words. He blinked, mouth parting slightly. His voice soft as he replied, “You really think that?” 

Donghyun looked back with kindness in his eyes and a sincere smile on his face, “I think about it all the time.” 

There was a beat of silence, he watched the way his gaze softened, a smile spreading on his lips. Donghyun’s heart skipped a beat— the subtle tint of pink dusting his cheeks, his smile. He could brighten up a room. 

“Thank you, Donghyun,” he shyly whispered. 

The use of his name caught Donghyun off guard—it felt special coming from Dongmin’s mouth, like it belonged there. It was said so perfectly, like it was meant for him alone. Donghyun needed to hear it again.

Dongmin’s hands drifted to the hem of his hoodie, fingers tugging nervously, but he didn’t flinch when Donghyun brushed his knee against his own. He stayed there, close. 

The silence between them wasn’t heavy anymore. It was warm. Full of things unsaid, but no longer unbearable. The distance that once felt impossible now folded in, slow and quiet, until their breaths moved in rhythm.

The sky dimmed to a deep orange, soft and slow, like the day itself was exhaling. The sun spilled gold across the concrete, casting light over Dongmin’s features; they were softer now, less guarded. Donghyun couldn’t help staring.

Then, gently, Dongmin rested his head against his shoulder.

Donghyun’s breath caught in his throat as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. His heart was pounding, so loud he swore Dongmin could hear it, but he didn’t pull away. 

He leaned in instead, letting his head rest against Dongmin’s, closing his eyes as the weight of the moment settled over them.

If words failed, this would be enough.

Chapter Text

“Do you ever get worried about growing up,” Dongmin whispered into the air. 

The two had taken a scenic path out the skatepark, basking in the quiet presence of each other as the sky dimmed down on them. Donghyun finally felt like he could breathe, the thick tension that once engulfed them dissolving into a comforting silence. Although there were still some lingering thoughts trailing behind, Donghyun wasn’t focusing on it— too tangled up in the charming view of Dongmin finally by his side. 

“Huh?” Donghyun’s eyes glanced over, noticing the slight pout on Dongmin’s lips. He inhaled once, as if he was trying to convince himself to speak his mind. “I mean, what if we grow up and…and we stop speaking? Like everyone does. What if one day, this is just something we remember instead of something we still do?” Dongmin’s voice was low but steady as he wandered to the fence, resting his arms on the ledge.

His eyes were directed downward on the busy city as colours flashed across the street. The crowd of families and teenagers packing up their picnic blankets with smiles on their faces, the familiar ghost of memories with his friend group taking their place for a brief moment. 

Donghyun’s breath hitched a little—he hadn’t thought about the future like that. Not once. Not like this. 

Looking at Dongmin from further as he stood by the fence rendered him speechless. Donghyun had been friends with him for years, seeing him as a halo of greenery surrounded him— a small drift of wind blowing through his hair, prickling at his skin, as the street lights bounced off of his bold features— He had truly grown. Not just physically, but emotionally. 

Dongmin talked to him, really talked to him. He trusted Donghyun. Back then, he wouldn’t have let anyone see him this exposed; the soft lilt in his voice, the gentle brush of arms as he leaned in closer to Donghyun’s side. It was electrifying, like a current buzzing through his body— hyper aware of every breath he took. 

“I will never leave you,” Donghyun spoke carefully, sincerely, not daring to look over at Dongmin as he stared at him with wide eyes. 

He blinked, long and slow, as if trying to blink back something heavier. Then came the smile; soft, sad, as though he didn’t believe he deserved the words. “You treat me too well, Leehanie,” he shook his head, the simple movement hypnotising Donghyun, even with the denial laced in his words, he never failed to look anything short of gorgeous. 

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, Taesan,” Donghyun’s voice cleared through the fog of Dongmins mind, catching him off guard. His hands plucked a stray cherry blossom from a tree branch hanging outward, cradling the flora, admiring it, before turning his body towards Dongmin. 

“I’ve always found you beautiful, from your personality to your looks,” he said with lingering eyes, looking at the way Dongmin’s own shimmered in the distant light. He opened his hands once more, cupping the flower and extending it out to Dongmin. 

He didn't move for a stunned second, time seeming to freeze on Donghyun’s figure. He took the flower with cautious hands, a simple gesture. One mixed with a pure yet powerful message behind it, a reminder of all the thoughts Donghyun had about Dongmin. 

“I don’t do this all because I have to. I do it because I want to,” He finished, dropping his hands to his sides. Donghyun didn’t know what stirred in him. Whatever it was, it made him bold; honest—maybe too honest. At his core, he was still afraid of that creeping rejection. 

Not much was shared between them after that moment, instead they were enveloped in the passage of intimate silence. 

Donghyun let himself escape into his thoughts once more. He knew things had changed, things were different now, but maybe this time it wasn’t for the worst.

~

“Thank you, Leehan,” Dongmin began as they neared his apartment block. Donghyun didn’t reply, instead raising an eyebrow in confusion. “For staying with me tonight— and saying all those things.” Donghyun couldn’t mistake the blush that bloomed on his face, adorable and bright. He wanted to desperately reach out and cradle his face, maybe run a hand through his red locks, kiss his plump lips but he couldn't.  

“No need to thank me, Taesanie,” He chuckled lightly. He let his hand wander to his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze of reassurance. “See you soon?” Donghyun tilted his head, smiling sweetly as he took a step back from Dongmin’s side. 

There was a hesitant look in Dongmin’s eyes as he looked at the building, then back at Donghyun as if there was more he wanted to say. Donghyun could see the cogs turning in his head, the words that bitterly sat on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it down, nodding stiffly. 

“See you soon, Leehanie.”

~

He hadn’t planned to come here. But when the notification from Sungho lit up his screen, something pulled him into the noise, the lights, the chance to let his mind wander away from the echo of that night. 

That was how later that evening Donghyun found himself standing on the escalator, making his way up onto the second floor of the mall.

As soon as he stepped through the doors, the world dimmed as he was engulfed by the glow of neon signs flashing from every direction. The sharp, digital jingle of prize machines and the crash of sound effects rattled through his chest. The air was thick with the scent of greasy pizza and the syrupy sweetness of blue raspberry slushie.

He spotted the group crowded around one of the shooter games, cheering Sungho on as he pelted the zombies dragging themselves towards him. “Hey guys,” Donghyun said, making Sanghyuk turn his head. 

“Leehan! We’re all about to go do our own stuff, ‘Hakie is getting impatient,” Sanghyuk told him, his eyes flickering over to Woonhak who was tugging on his shoulder, hands flailing towards the basketball hoop game. He couldn’t help but smile, he really did miss his friends. The chaotic yet wholesome energy that comes with them, the smiles and jokes. It made all his worries simmer down into distant fuzz. 

“Sounds good,” Donghyun gave him a small nod, letting Sanghyuk get dragged away. He turned his head to the left, his focus shifting on Jaehyun who was practically caging Sungho with how closely he pressed up against him whilst cheering him on. Donghyun couldn’t help but smile to himself. There was something so effortlessly domestic in the way the two seemed to hover around each other. It was so easy for them, endearing, admirable. Donghyun couldn’t help but yearn for what they had.

Although lost in thought, Donghyun didn’t mistake the figure leaning quietly against the side of the arcade wall. From the corner of his eye, Donghyun could see a tinge of his red, slightly faded hair and the way fell over his eyes when he looked down at his phone. He felt nervous all of a sudden, the conversation from the other night flooding his mind all at once. He practically confessed his love to Dongmin

The distance wasn’t much different from that night, yet the charged feeling creeped back up on them. Their eyes locked, all he could do was stare as a lovestruck smile tugged at his lips. 

“You coming?” 

It was like an unspoken rule, a force that pulled the two together like a magnet. They always found their way back to each other. They just followed each other like a shadow hugging the paths they walked on. 

Donghyun’s surroundings narrowed to Dongmin, the way he drifted from game to game with quiet excitement shining in his eyes. He listened intently as he ranted about how long it had been since he had been to the arcade, whilst pointing at a new game instalment. 

The giddy lilt in his voice set off fireworks in Donghyun’s chest. The view of Dongmin skipping down an aisle of rhythm games—the matted carpet flooring, the beaming lights—was all it took. A simple blink, and there he was, back in highschool, following Dongmin like a lost puppy all over again. 

Back then, Donghyun forced himself to stay oblivious. Every time the heat crept into his cheeks, he buried his head, muttering a lame excuse about the weather. But now, everything was different. Now, Donghyun let himself feel the spark when Dongmin’s gaze met his. The look of intent, meaning, a lingering essence of intimacy Donghyun wasn’t brave enough to chase. Not yet, at least.

“Leehan-ah, remember this game,” Donghyun was pulled back into reality by the eager voice that ushered his name. Dongmin, in the distance, was waving him over whilst his other hand fiddled with the token slot of the game. 

A wave of nostalgia washed over Donghyun as he realised what he’d stumbled across. It was an air hockey table—simple, classic. Unmistakable. “Remember when we used to play against each other for hours,” Dongmin reminisced, a small smirk tugging at his lips. 

“Those were the times,” Donghyun reached out for one of the mallets as he spoke, a small chuckle slipping from his lips. He made his way to the opposite end of the table as Dongmin began the game, placing the puck onto the table. “I miss those days,” he admitted, striking down on the puck. 

Donghyun had barely any time to register the game beginning as the words processed in his brain. He carefully shielded his goal, hitting back, it knocked at the sides and slowly made its way back to Dongmin. He looked up again. “So do I,” Donghyun said, quieter. 

“I miss when we used to hang out all the time,” He carried on, eyes shyly lowering down to follow the puck as it glided across the table once more. He couldn’t fight the heat creeping up his neck. He felt exposed, raw, the silence weighing heavy with the threat of rejection— Yet, as he lifted his gaze again, he noticed the hint of shock that flickered in Dongmins' eyes. It was brief—as though he hadn’t expected the words. He glanced away and nodded stiffly, Donghyun almost missed it. 

Donghyun didn’t look away. He didn’t bother hiding the longing that was so plain on his face. He just watched as he continued playing, the way his eyebrow twitched whenever the puck went into his goal, the way he bit down on his bottom lip whenever he got a good hit with his mallet. It was mesmerising. Donghyun was barely paying attention to the competition anymore. 

The intimacy settled in his bones, the longer he stared at Dongmin, the more he noticed. Donghyun could see the way Dongmin shrank into himself, legs becoming restless as his hands flexed against the mallet. It drove him insane. No one else would’ve noticed. But Donghyun felt it all, how Dongmin slowly unravelled beneath his gaze. 

He’s letting me see him like this Donghyun's mind spun with the realisation— an ache for more pulsing through him. He set the puck down with more force than intended, breath steadying. Then—strike. Straight to the opposite goal, his eyes locked on Dongmin like he was the only thing in the room. 

Even as the machine flashed his win in loud neon letters, Donghyun barely heard it— his heart a drum in his ears, muffling the rest of the arcade noise. Dongmin was the only thing he saw. 

Dongmin’s lips lifted into a playful smirk as he leaned forward, palms pressing against the edge of the table. The look in his eyes drew him in, trapping him under a spell, a want for more attention. It made Donghyun’s breath catch, just for a second. God, he was so gone. 

Donghyun tested the edge in his gaze, folding his arms over his chest before walking over to Dongmin. “I win,” He said in victory. 

“Yeah…whatever, you cheated,” Dongmin grumbled as he dismissed him with a wave, already turning around towards another game. “I did not cheat!” Donghyun couldn’t fight the smile etched on his face as he caught up to Dongmin. 

Even with his vivid hair, Donghyun caught sight of the pink tint to his ears—a subtle sign of how he affected Dongmin. It made something stir from deep within him. 

Between the back and forth they shared, a claw machine caught Donghyun’s attention. He immediately perked up at the notice, grabbing Dongmin’s arm instinctively dragging him. “They have Hangyodon plushies!” He squealed before digging around in his pockets. “I need to get one,” Donghyun inserted a token carefully, eyes sparkling as the machine came to life; music playing, lights synchronising in patterned lines. 

He clutched the joystick, shifting it around a few times before hitting the button to drop the claw. Donghyun leaned in closer, watching as a singular plushie was drawn upward and dragged closer to the dropbox— until it lost its hold on the toy, making Donghyun deflate with defeat. 

“Ah, one more try,” He murmured, more to himself than to Dongmin. 

He dismissed the watchful stare piercing his back, a part of him too flustered to face it—the other too focused on winning his precious Hangyodon.

Donghyun tried once again, reaching for the same plushie as it fell closer to the hole but as the claw lowered, it lost its grip, dropping it again. He groaned in frustration, inserting another token to attempt once more. 

Every time he tried, the less hope he had of winning the prize. As the final claw missed the Hangyodon, Donghyun dramatically dropped to his knees, head leaning against the metal of the machine. “This is impossible!” He pouted. 

He stayed there dramatically, staring into the glass, mourning his precious plushie, until he heard Dongmin’s quiet laugh behind him. His heart stuttered. Of course Dongmin was watching.

 “Let me try,” He said. 

Dongmin fiddled with a coin between his fingers as he walked closer to the claw machine. Donghyun lifted his head, eyes fixed on Dongmin as he started the game up. The familiar sing-song tune mixing into the blur of other games rattling through the arcade. Dongmin’s hand clutched the joystick, moving the claw around with practiced ease, like he’s done this a thousand times just to impress him. 

Donghyun loved his hands, the arch of his fingers, the veins that flexed between every moment. The rings he decorated them with were an added layer to how attractive they looked, silver against ivory skin. He wanted Dongmin’s hands against his own, delicate and soft. 

He watched as the claw dropped down, clinging onto one of the plushies near the middle of the crowded machine. Donghyun immediately perked up, watching as it made its way to the dropper. He stood up, hands against the glass as he anticipated with wide eyes. Dongmin only stood back with his arms crossed, a fond smile washing over his face as the plush Hangyodon fell into the prize tube. 

“Oh my god! You got him!” Donghyun was practically jumping with joy as he pulled out the plushie, squishing the soft face against his cheek. Without another thought, he ran over to Dongmin, wrapping his arms around his shoulders for a warm embrace. 

He expected a shove, or a low grumble from him, remembering all the times he had rejected the group's attempts at physical touch. For a second, Donghyun held his breath. 

But he didn’t pull away, instead he melted into the embrace, letting his arms wrap around his back. “Thank you, Taesan-ah,” Donghyun said, stepping back from the hug with a smile— dimples poking out.  

Dongmin stared at him for a second longer than he meant to, eyes flickering to the plushie still in Donghyun’s arms. His smile softened, “You’re really that happy over a plush?”  Dongmin teased, but his voice was softened, gentler than before. 

“Yah! I really wanted it!” Donghyun whined, hugging the Hangyodon closer to his chest as the two continued to walk. Dongmin’s shoulders had visibly relaxed, his hands in his pockets as he walked shoulder to shoulder with Donghyun. Every subtle brush against him made him flinch—each one sparking an ache for more. 

As they passed by more claw machines, Donghyun saw a couple by a similar sanrio-themed one. They seemed around his age, maybe younger by the looks of the school badge displayed on their uniforms and bags slung over their shoulders.

The girl tried her hand at getting the Hello Kitty plushie, to no avail. Donghyun’s eyes trailed to the guy she was with, the clear endearing expression that glittered in his eyes as he watched her pout at the machine. When he attempted, and won the prize, the girl jumped up in excitement, swooping the boy down for a tender kiss. 

It felt like watching a version of his own story, only this one had a happy ending. Everything about them mirrored what he longed for; the affection, the laughter, the quiet certainty. But unlike them, he couldn’t have it. Not really.  

He just watched as the couple walked happily together, showing their affection to the world with shared kisses and intertwined hands. Bittersweet. 

“Leehan, Taesan!” Donghyun turned his head to meet Sanghyuk and Jaehyun approaching. Donghyun waved at them, eyes flicking to Dongmin who had a shy smile on his lips, greeting them. “Ah, I should’ve guessed you’d be with Leehanie~,” Jaehyun teased, eyes crinkling as he threw Dongmin a knowing look.  

Donghyun’s eyes widened slightly, taken aback by the comment, a nervous laugh spilling out as he watched Dongmin glare at Jaehyun. He found Dongmin the cutest when he got all fussy and embarrassed, seeing the way his face turned red in embarrassment made him break out into a fond smile, eyes trailing him as he playfully fought Jaehyun. 

He shifted beside Sanghyuk as Jaehyun hooked his arm around Dongmin. There it was, the playful banter falling back into routine, as though the past couple of days hadn’t happened. As if the tension between him and Dongmin hadn’t left the whole group in silent confusion. 

Donghyun gritted his teeth. He couldn’t fight the jealousy curling in his stomach, even if he told himself it shouldn’t matter. It was just Jaehyun, just Dongmin—just friends, right?

Donghyun’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at the Hangyodon still clutched to his chest. 

Just like he knew that he and Dongmin were just friends. 

Friends who always found their way back to each other—like a bee to a petunia, like second nature. Friends that should’ve been something more.

His nails dug into the soft plush of Hangyodon, fists clenching and unclenching as he settled the raging flames of jealousy in his chest. Donghyun lifted his head, eyes flickering upward—

But then, Dongmin looked back. 

He didn’t say anything, just met Donghyun’s gaze across the loud buzz of the crowded arcade, a small smile tugging at his lips. He waved him over, subtle, like a secret only they shared. 

And just like that, the bitterness faltered and for a moment, it was just them again. 

Chapter Text

Donghyun wanted to swallow down the frustration and jealousy that was burning in his throat. He didn't want to say something he would regret, but the words sat so bitter on his tongue as he looked at how easily Jaehyun bumped shoulders with Dongmin at the arcade game. The way Jaehyun leaned into Dongmin’s side when he scored a point, nudging him like it meant something more. Donghyun inhaled a deep breath, letting his chest rise as he unclenched his fist. 

He waited until their game ended, shoving his hands in his pockets as they turned to him. “Guys, I think I'm gonna head out, it’s getting late,” He said with daggers punctuating the syllables, immediate regret flooding through his veins. He didn’t entertain Jaehyun’s reaction, his surprised eyes staring at him clearly caught off guard, instead muttering a quiet ‘im sleepy.’ Donghyun’s eyes moved onto Dongmin, noticing the slouch in his shoulders and the way his jaw tightened with confusion. 

“I’ll walk you home,” Dongmin said as their eyes met, searching one another's expressions. Donghyun couldn’t deny his offer, no matter the flames of jealousy roaring in his chest, especially not when his eyes looked at him with a silent plea to agree. This was unfair, Donghyun thought. He looked too pretty under the strobe lights. 

“Sure,” Donghyun gave a nod, stealing one last glance at Jaehyun, who was pouting like a child.  “Okay…” he dragged the word out, eyes flicking to Dongmin. It shouldn’t have bothered him; there was nothing there. But God, he couldn’t stand the way they looked at each other. 

The rational part of Donghyun  shook away the thought, already turning away to the exit

~

The streets were practically empty by the time they made it out of the mall, Donghyun walked a step behind, his hands still buried in his pockets. Dongmin didn’t question the unusual silence, but he kept glancing sideways like he wanted to say something, but never did. 

It was colder than before, the night shift cooling into a softer breeze, but Donghyun could see the way he shivered. Without a second thought, he began to slip off his jacket and pull it over Dongmin’s shoulders. A confused breath falling from his mouth, head turning to meet Donghyun. 

His hands hesitated at Dongmin’s shoulders, mouth suddenly dry from how close he was. “You were shivering,” Donghyun said, as casually as possible. Dongmin cracked a smile, wrapping the jacket tighter around himself. “Thank you, Leehan.” The tenderness woven in voice made Donghyun’s heart flutter, eyes immediately diverting away from the beautiful face beside him. 

The rest of the walk to Donghyun’s dorm was just as silent. Their footsteps echoing against the pavement was the only sound filling the air. Occasionally, Donghyun glanced over at the way his jacket engulfed Dongmin’s frame, rested softly over his shoulders, looking away—before feeling the familiar buzz of Dongmin’s eyes on his side. Their glances, quiet and lingering, said everything they couldn’t. 

_

He didn’t dream that night, honestly he wasn’t sure if he even slept. The whole night went by in a haze of silence, mind whirring back and forth between Dongmin’s face and regret, wishing he didn't keep his mouth shut. 

The notification lit up Donghyun’s phone just past seven in the next morning. He groaned, rubbing his eye with his palm as he picked up his phone from his bedside table. 

taesan 

did u sleep well? 

It was a text from Dongmin, a simple quick message, no emojis, no follow up texts, just quiet concern. Or maybe nothing at all, maybe Donghyun was reading too much into it all. He wasn’t sure. He just stared at the message, thumb frozen above the keyboard. 

What was he even supposed to say?— what could he say?

He groaned, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. He leaned back against his headboard, jaw tensed and his eyes screwed shut as if that’d help the words come easier. But, they didn't. 

He typed a response, then deleted it. Tried again. Deleted that too. Paused for a second before typing a response— this time, contemplating before slumping his shoulders and sending the message. With a huff, Donghyun turned off his phone before he was able to see any sign of Dongmin reading his message, rolling out of bed. 

He padded slowly towards the bathroom, the feeling of sleep curled around his tired frame. His mind was fuzzy with emotions that dulled together like the grey sky peering through the curtains. Had he said too little? Donghyun wondered as he began to brush his teeth. 

Should he have responded so quickly?

He spat into the sink, staring back into his reflection as the foam clung onto the edges of his mouth. He looked as tired as he felt. 

Was he overthinking it all or not thinking enough?

Just as he dried off his face, Donghyun’s phone buzzed again. A heartstopping vibration. He peeked over the towel in his hand, reading the notification. It was Dongmin. 

Taesan

didnt expect u to be up so early, LMAO do u wanna grab breakfast together?

Donghyun’s chest tightened at the invitation, he stiffened, mind pounding like an overworked machine. Breakfast? Was this casual? Or did it mean something more?  

He reached out for his phone, swiping onto the chat, eyes reading the message over and over again. There was a hesitation in his movements, a shy spell of worry washing down on him. What if he was misinterpreting these signs? 

Before he could entangle himself in the thorned vines of his mind, another message flashed on the screen, making him blink into focus. 

taesan 

just the two of us btw

Donghyun’s heart lurched from his chest. The undertones of possessiveness, the soft warmth of knowing Dongmin had thought of him first thing in the morning, the thought of a shared meal only between the two of them during these weeks of chaos and cramming for exams. It made his chest flutter with excitement, bringing his phone closer to him as he began to type a message out. It was a simple, ‘Yeah, sure’ Too simple. He typed out a different response; 

leehan

where? 

__

The cafe Dongmin chose was quiet, tucked between a florist shop and an italian restaurant Donghyun always wanted to try out. As he walked in his senses sharpened, taking in the scent of burnt coffee beans and warm vanilla, the quiet comforting air that lulled him into a familiar feeling of calm. He straightened his back when he noticed Dongmin hidden in a corner, between the glazed wood tables and decorated milky brown walls, eyeing the menu.

He looked different from the night at the arcade; softer—peaceful. The red tint of his hair started to fade into a cotton-candy pink, tousled as though he had run his hand through it moments ago but somehow, it still fell perfectly to frame his face. He peered up with curiosity glittering in his eyes when Donghyun pulled a chair out across from him. His chest ached at his beauty, even in the early hours he was unfairly pretty. 

His face softened into a smile, “Leehan, Hey,” He leaned back into his chair, flipping the menu for Donghyun to read. Donghyun settled his bag on the free chair, ignoring the heat creeping up his neck as he felt Dongmin’s eyes on him. “What are you thinking of getting?” 

Donghyun hummed in thought, scanning the menu. “Hm, maybe an omelette or—” As he lifted his head to face Dongmin, something caught his eye. The jacket. Still draped over Dongmin’s shoulders like it belonged there. It did something strange to him, like his voice stopped working—mouth full of cotton—His mind a blanking all at once.

He looked cute wearing Donghyun’s clothes. A feeling stirred in his stomach, a mix of want and something warmer, tender, something he didn’t want to admit. Instead, he shut his mouth, averting his eyes sheepishly. Before Dongmin could question him, the waiter approached, slicing the tension in half. 

Donghyun could get used to this life. The warmth of it all, the quiet rhythm of being near Dongmin, it felt easy to get wrapped up in the quiet laughter over shared meals, trading smiles and glances that lingered a second too long. As if neither of them wanted to look away first. 

Dongmin always looked good no matter what he was doing, but there was something about the way the cafe lights softened his features, giving the illusion of the morning sun casting through the curtains. It made him look unbelievably pretty. Whenever he was with Dongmin he noticed his habits, like the way he fidgeted with his rings as he spoke and how he nodded along with Donghyun’s excited rambles. 

He liked how Dongmin made him feel when he was with him. He felt so heard in a world where he easily fell into the background noise. 

“Didn’t expect to see you two here, where was my invite?” A familiar voice broke through, crashing the tender air that settled between him and Dongmin. It was Jaehyun, appearing seemingly out of nowhere as he slid into the seat next to Dongmin before either of them had the chance to answer. 

Plucking the fork from Dongmin’s hand, he tore off a piece of his pancake from his plate. “Oh wow, this is good! You always pick the best things, Taesanie,” He said, a pleased smile forming on his lips as he leaned into Dongmin’s side. 

Donghyun’s jaw tightened, his knuckles turning white with how hard he clenched his fists. Just the way he was leaning against Dongmin was too much. His stomach twisted—He hated how easily Jaehyun could take up space around him.

“You could just…order it yourself…” He muttered, voice cold and distant. Despite the annoyance written all over Donghyun’s face, Jaehyun didn’t bite back- instead, he let out a breathy laugh letting himself settle his back against the chair.

“Ohh, I think I get it. Am I ruining your guys’ romantic breakfast date?” Jaehyun smirked, eyes darting between Dongmin and Donghyun. He hated the fact Jaehyun knew exactly how to get under his skin.

Donghyun felt his face growing red but despite that, he grabbed his cup of orange juice before speaking. “Don’t start,” he muttered, bringing the edge of the glass to his lips. 

Donghyun swallowed, the bitter ripe fruit sliding down his throat with a satisfying burn. His expression stayed levelled, but the voice in his head was louder than ever. The comment sat like fire in his stomach, spreading until it reached his ears. A date? He wanted to laugh it off but the words clung to him— it was so easy for Jaehyun to throw a line out like that, as if it would blow away with the wind. 

Was that what they looked like from the outside? Lovers?

Did Dongmin notice too? But he laughed…which means he found it ridiculous. Did he find it weird?  They were just friends. Nothing more. 

His eyes risked a glance at Dongmin, who was still smiling, a soft tint of blush dusting his cheeks. Whether it was from the joke, the heat, or something else entirely, Donghyun didn’t know. But it made his heart ache for all the wrong reasons. He chugged the glass of orange juice this time, letting the other two do all of the speaking. 

He barely waited for them to catch up with his fast trail towards college, walking a few steps ahead of them both. Donghyun knew it was petty—irrational, but the jealousy curling in his stomach was far from subsiding. It was getting worse. So he did the only thing he could: he avoided him. 

Donghyun looked over his shoulder as they approached the college to wave the others goodbye, when he caught a glimpse of Dongmin’s eyes staring at him. His eyebrows were knitted together with a look of subtle confusion and worry. Donghyun froze for a moment, a pang of guilt rippling through his chest. 

Had he noticed Donghyun’s sudden silence? Was he worried? Did he care? 

It was moments like these, when emotion sits so blatant on Dongmin’s face, that made Donghyun’s infatuation bloom in his chest like flowers on a spring day. It was the rawness of his look, the puzzling—unreadable, the kind of unknown that Donghyun didn’t want answers to. He turned away, retreating into the college building, maybe to drown himself in work, or maybe to lay there in a daydream.

_

He tapped his pencil against his glasses as he stared down at the paper. All the words on the page blended into one, the letters scrambling into silent reminders of Dongmin— from his name, his favourite band, to that stupid brand of tea he loves. Donghyun couldn’t get him out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. 

He groaned, dropping his head onto the desk. He had to get himself together. Why was it suddenly now that Dongmin started to mean so much to him? 

Why was it now that everything seemed to have shifted the air between them. 

And why did it affect Donghyun so much, yet Dongmin so little? 

Donghyun let out a breath, a long heavy sigh as he lifted his head. The mutter of his lecturer filled the void of silence that creeped up to consume him whole. Yet even with his attempts to concentrate, every word sunk in like the static buzz of a television. 

Drowning out the torturous thoughts is all he wanted, and in his moment of desperation— he brought out his phone, scrolling until he landed on a certain person’s contact. 

ihan

Sungho…I need help

Sungho was the only person who Donghyun trusted with his secrets, especially when it came to sensitive topics. He was older than Donghyun, more experienced. Honestly, he looked up to Sungho a lot, he admired his incredible vocals and his ability to just de-escalate the tension. 

He barely had time to regret sending it before the read receipt popped up—somehow making his day even worse.

wise hyung *_*

hey leehan whats up 

Donghyun bit his lip as he contemplated, staring straight into the soul of his phone. It was like Sungho read his mind, when he sent another text. 

wise hyung *_*

is it about taesan ? 

ihan

yes… 

His jaw tensed. Was he that predictable? 

wise hyung *_*

you like him dont you

Donghyun sucked in a breath. Sungho’s message alone answers his question, and maybe, he wasn’t as secretive as he thought when it came to Dongmin. 

ihan

i dont know

ihan

fuck i think i do

wise hyung *_* 

i dont know what advice youre looking for specifically leehan but if my word is worth anything, i think taesan likes you too

wise hyung *_*

you r not the only one trying to figure out what the other is thinking yk

ihan

how can you be so sure? 

wise hyung *_*

because im not blind nor stupid leehan, and u two always figure it out in the end 

Sungho’s last sentence echoed in the chamber of his mind. That was right, to everyone else, Dongmin and Donghyun were a package deal—a two-in-one—they had been undeniably inseparable for years. No matter how often they fought, it always circled back to them finding each other, and growing closer than before. 

He closed his phone, letting himself get lost in his papers once again. There wasn't time to spare, especially with the time crunch he was on. He couldn’t afford being distracted. So, Donghyun put his head down, drowning out the noise of his own mind.

His pencil hit the paper with every passing thought, every memory of the way Jaehyun clung to Dongmin, as if he was his to keep. But despite it all, Donghyun kept writing, numbing himself to the ache in his chest until the bell rang out. A distant screech echoed across the room as students began packing up, chairs scraping, bags zipping.

Donghyun didn’t move. He was still tuned out of the real world, trapped inside his own head.

“Donghyun-ah,” a voice said softly, slicing through the fog. He flinched. For a second, he let himself believe it was Dongmin.

But when he looked up, it was his teacher, or so he thought, it was more of a misty figure in the corner of his eye. 

“You’ve been working hard, Donghyun-ah,” she said, voice warm, eyes kind. “Go and have your lunch now.” Her tone was impossibly gentle almost too soft, like a voice you’d hear in a dream. Like someone had cracked open his chest and whispered exactly what he needed to hear.

He blinked, letting out a soft, sheepish laugh while fumbling to grab his things. But when he looked up again to thank her—

She was gone.

Not a trace of her at the front. Not even her bag. Only the empty classroom, and the buzz of silence in his ears. 

Even with the glasses perched up on his nose, Donghyun felt as if he was walking through fog. The world around him shifted in and out of focus, like it couldn’t decide what was real. He wished this wasn't real; the tightness in his chest, the distance, the ache. He hoped it could all be passed off as some sort of bad dream. 

And as he stepped into the cafeteria, he wished for it even harder. Because what he saw there wasn’t what he wanted to see— not even close. 

A twinge of anger that twisted in his chest, slow and  steady like a burn spreading through his veins. Jealousy hung thick in the air, almost visible. He couldn't look away despite the bitter words that threatened to spill from his mouth. Jaehyun was doing that thing again, snapping pictures, laughing too easily, leaning in too close. 

Getting too close to Dongmin. 

His Dongmin. That’s what he wanted to say. But Donghyun knew the truth. 

Dongmin wasn’t his to keep. 

His shoulders sank with the weight of realisation, the sharp edges of emotion dulling just enough to move. He walked over to the table with a carefully constructed smile, settling stiffly in the seat beside Sanghyuk. 

Donghyun’s eyes flicked across the table, just briefly. Long enough to see Dongmin already watching him, only this time, Donghyun didn’t look back. He turned to Sungho instead. 

No one seemed to notice the way he brushed off Dongmin’s presence as they fell back into conversation; branching out into their own chats. Donghyun spoke once in a while, albeit halfheartedly. His mind was somewhere else, ears tuned to a frequency where all he could make out was the sound of Dongmin’s laugh as Jaehyun cracked another joke. 

His grip tightened around his chopsticks, the cold metal digging into his skin as he tried to keep his composure. It was unfair. Dongmin’s existence couldn’t be real, how could he simply laugh and make Donghyun’s heart stop beating. How could he crave another person so much that he’d rather sit bitterly in the sidelines as he smiled with other people. 

Even when the ache to speak to Dongmin became unbearable, he fought through it. It was like walking through a blizzard; disorienting, difficult, deadly. 

But Donghyun couldn’t look away. He hadn’t even noticed his own lingering eyes staring at Dongmin as if he was the only person in the room. Until a nudge under the table had him snapping his mind into focus. Sungho was looking at him over the table, “You good?” he mouthed. 

Donghyun swallowed thickly. Was he okay? Was he supposed to pretend like he wasn’t spiralling down a path of jealousy and fear of losing the only boy he’s ever loved? 

How could he laugh so easily? How could he exist so effortlessly, while Donghyun sat there, heart in shambles. He stabbed a piece of kimchi on his tray, anger radiating off him like smoke. 

“Leehan-ah, hey,” Donghyun tensed up at the voice calling out his name. It was Dongmin. Donghyun couldn’t even get himself to face his gaze, focusing on his food instead. “Yeah?” He murmured.  

“Jaehyun-hyung and I were going to go to the record store later, do you want to come?” His jaw clenched at the mention of Jaehyun. “Im busy,” Donghyun gritted out, fighting the urge to meet Dongmin’s intense stare. 

“We can go to get snacks after—” 

His voice was sharper than intended. “I said I’m busy.”

The moment of realisation hit him like a slap across the face, heart sinking down to his stomach. He lifted his head, eyes darting to Dongmin as the table fell silent. Awkward tension filled the air, yet Donghyun didn’t know what to say, or how to apologise. 

Dongmin stared back at Donghyun silently, mouth slightly agape in disbelief. Donghyun couldn’t blame the shocked look on his face, he desperately wanted to crawl out of his skin— press rewind and retry the last month of his life. Their eyes broke contact when Woonhak appeared with his usual cheery smile, unaware of what had just happened. And just like that, the charged energy fizzled out. 

Everyone fell back into conversation, everyone except Donghyun. His eyes were still on Dongmin, watching as Jaehyun poked at his side, making him flinch out of his daze. The scene grated on his nerves, eye twitching with irritation. 

He needed to get out of here, quickly. He couldn’t trust himself to stay composed—not after snapping at Dongmin, not with them acting like that right in front of him

He shoved the rest of his food onto Woonhak’s plate and stood with his tray in hand. “Where are you going?” Sanghyuk asked, one eyebrow raised. Donghyun looked down, an unintentional cold and distant look washed on his face. “Got homework to finish,” He replied before walking away.  

“Whats up with him?” Woonhak asked halfheartedly, mouth full with rice. No one replied to his question but Dongmin could feel their eyes burning holes through him, waiting for him to fill in the gaps of confusion. They weren’t oblivious to the fact Donghyun and Dongmin were closer to each other than to anyone else in the group. He should know why he was acting like this. 

But the truth is. He didn’t know why.  

He just watched Donghyun’s back as he walked further out of view. He didn’t look his way, not once. 

Dongmin looked down, fidgeting with his rings as he tried to rationalise the thoughts spiralling in his head. 

Was Donghyun mad at him? He sounded mad. Dongmin shook his head, his hand lifting to his face out of instinct as he began to anxiously chew at his cuticles and his vision a blur as he rattled his head for answers. 

Maybe he’s just stressed. Maybe it was nothing. He let out a sigh, dropping his hand onto his lap again. Despite his efforts of soothing his mind, Dongmin felt a helpless tug at his sleeve. It was urging him to take a step and find Donghyun just to ask him what was wrong. 

“He’s been acting extra weird lately, huh,” Woonhak said, grabbing the banana milk on his tray. Jaehyun laughed in agreement, waving his chopsticks around. “He’ll come around eventually, right Taesanie?” He leaned his back against his shoulder, sending a chilling wave down his spine. Dongmin just moved away, pushing him lightly into his seat as he tried to manage a meek smile towards the others. 

He was spiralling downward into a sea of confusion, it was obvious, written clearly across his face. His chest thumping with a dull ache. One he never would've imagined he would have had to endure. 

Dongmin left his friends in a haze as soon as lunch ended, walking like a zombie towards his next class. He felt like he was on another planet. One that orbited around Donghyun, hung over him like the moon in the night sky. Only now, thick clouds of confusion blocked their path. 

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging to soothe the headache that had begun to creep up. Every corridor was filled with students and lecturers, bumping shoulders and chatting loudly with friends and they went to their next period. With every increasing push, brush against his arm and laugh thrown in his direction— Dongmin started to get agitated, the roaring ache still persisting in his head. 

He turned into a set of stairs before his mind could tell him otherwise, ducking into the quiet peace of the vacant stairwell. He exhaled through clenched teeth, hands travelling to pull out his phone. He stared at his lockscreen for a few moments as though a notification would suddenly appear— from Donghyun. From anyone. 

He swiped onto his messages with Donghyun, nipping at his bottom lip as he refreshed again and again, chest rising in quiet breath before letting himself drop his back against the wall. 

An echo of memories flooded his mind. Dongmin looked to his right, recalling the timed where he and Donghyun would run off to an abandoned section of the school, all giggles and smiles just to talk about anything and everything. He remembered the other times, where all he did was bask in the warmth of Donghyun’s presence as he  rested his head on his shoulder igniting his soul, one earbud in his ear, another in Donghyun’s. 

They were connected by not only the wired earphone, but by something much deeper. Much more tender—tragic. Because now, Dongmin didn’t have that warmth glowing by him. Instead, all that remained was a shell of what was once them. 

Their shared glances, the way they felt, moving like two fitted gears now felt foreign and forgotten, and all that Dongmin could do was riddle himself in confusion. 

He used to look at me like I meant something. Now he doesn’t look at me at all.

Dongmin’s hand clenched around his phone. He hated feeling this way, feeling as though he had to tread around Donghyun like he was some sort of lion in a cage. All he wanted was answers. He didn’t want to be ignored and brushed off, like he didn’t share a history with Donghyun. Like he never meant anything to him. 

His eyes flickered down to his phone once again. Dongmin wanted to confront him— But what could he say? 

“I just want Donghyun back,” he whispered, the name cracking like something sacred in his throat.

Chapter Text

Donghyun caught his eye as soon as Dongmin ghosted through the doorway of the classroom. His hands gripped the shoulder strap, fingers curling around with a rough slide as if to anchor him in the moment. His breath dropped slightly with the tension that seemed to have followed Dongmin back to his classroom. 

His eyes couldn’t help but flicker over at the figure of his friend. Immediately, Dongmin noticed how simply off he looked. 

On a normal day, Donghyun would be doodling in his notebook right about now, instead it was switched for a more distant stare, cold and far away. Dongmin found it odd, and not in the good way, not in the “Oddball Leehan” way that made Dongmin’s heart stutter with blazing fondness. 

His movement seemed to drag, as if he was in slow-motion. Even as he walked past, Donghyun's eyes didn’t flicker, he didn’t shift in his seat—no half smile, no trace of his usual whimsy, bubbly personality—like Dongmin was invisible to him; a speck in the wind. 

Walking past him felt like pressing a cigarette to his skin, a sting that lingered and scarred. 

Dongmin didn’t try to talk to him, he just slumped into his seat with his shoulders low, hoping the hurt in his chest didn’t show on his face. His leg was restless under the table, carrying the nervous energy he couldn't shake. 

Dongmin’s thoughts spun around in a loop, circling the same questions without any way out. When had things changed?  Why did it feel like Donghyun had built a wall overnight? He wanted to ask—God, he was desperate to—but the mere thought of actually hearing Donghyun shut him down made his throat lock up. 

His eyes flickered to his phone, teeth sinking into his lip. He considered texting him, but whenever he tried to type a response, it was like all his thoughts had vanished from his brain. What if he only made things worse. What if Donghyun ignored him completely? 

“Dongmin-ah, are you listening?” 

The teacher's voice sliced through his thoughts, and his head snapped up as if he had been caught doing something wrong. Laughter bubbled from the back of the class as he scrambled to his feet, muttered an apology and took the stack of papers with stiff fingers. 

Sliding one onto his desk, he turned to pass the rest along—and froze. 

Donghyun was looking at him.

It wasn’t long. Just a small flicker of his eyes, quick and unreadable, before he dropped his gaze again. 

Dongmin's throat tightened at the glance, but it was gone before he could make sense of it. The passing brush of attention had his heart punching against his ribs unsteadily, it left him aching for more. 

His joints felt stiff, the grip on his pencil tight as it hovered over the blank sheet without moving. The words were a blur on the page, all he could see was the soft curve of Donghyun’s profile, the way his eyelashes dipped as he looked away. 

Was that on purpose? Did I Imagine it?

His chest tightened, a dull pull that made his hands clammy. He wanted to believe there was something there—that Donghyun wasn’t truly ignoring him, but the longer the silence stretched, the harder it was to convince himself. 

Each tick of the clock was another jarring reminder; Donghyun used to lean over his desk, nudging his arm with a stupid grin, whispering jokes that both got them scolded. Now there was nothing but an invisible wall. One that Dongmin was on the wrong side of. 

Still, he stayed quiet. Because asking meant risking the truth. And right now the silence, however suffocating, was safer than finding out Donghyun didn’t want him at all. 

_

The classroom had emptied out long before Dongmin closed his notebook. He lingered back, packing slowly, too afraid to catch up with the stream of students already pouring into the hall. 

When he finally stood, his eyes drifted again. To the desk in front of him, where Donghyun’s chair sat neatly tucked in with no trace of him left behind.

Dongmin swallowed, his throat dry. For a moment, he almost laughed at himself. Why did I think he’d wait?

His phone buzzed in his pocket, making his heart leap—but it wasn’t him. Just a notification about something meaningless. He let out a shaky breath, shoving it back.

As he walked out of the classroom, his chest still carried the faint echo of that fleeting glance Donghyun had given him earlier. So small, so fragile, it might have been nothing at all.

And yet, it was the only thing keeping him from crumbling.

Chapter Text

Donghyun’s backpack dragged his shoulder down like an anchor as he shuffled through the crowd of students spilling out of the campus. Chatter, footsteps, laughter, all of the noise pressed in on him, yet he still felt alone. The weight wasn’t his textbooks, or the laptop stuffed inside, it was the constant strain of having to ignore the one person he didn’t want to ignore. 

Every glance replayed in his mind, lingering like a bruise. The way his expression dipped, the unspoken questions behind his eyes— it was all there, written in a language only Donghyun could read. And still, he looked away. He had to. If he gave in, even once, everything he’d worked so hard to bury would come rushing out.

But the guilt gnawed at him. Dongmin wasn’t just anyone, he was the person who had always been there. The one that made the silence feel warm rather than suffocating. Now Donghyun was the one making it suffocating. 

He could still see him in the back of his mind, fidgeting with his rings, lips pressing together like he wanted to speak but he didn’t dare. The memory made his chest ache in a way that was almost unbearable. 

Donghyun tightened the grip around his bag strap, jaw clenched as he pushed further through the crowd. He knew if he slowed down, if he let himself think too hard, he’d crumble. He reminded himself that distance was safer, better. But deep down, a part of him knew that this wasn’t protecting him. It was destroying him. 

He slowed down as he trailed further away from the campus, shoulders dropping with the chatter disappearing into low mumbles from further away. He let himself enjoy the scenery, the quiet whistle of breeze that curled around his body, along with the soft chirps of songbirds in the trees. 

Just for a moment, everything felt less melancholic, less caged in. 

A soft buzz against his thigh caught his attention, instinctively he reached into his pocket, pulling his phone out. His throat tightened, mouth going dry as a familiar contact name lit up the screen. Dongmin. 

Hesitation stabbed at his side, poking, provoking as he stared back, unable to bring himself to even cast his eyes a little lower to read the full message. Instead, Donghyun locked his phone and shoved it back into his pocket. 

He looked down towards the ground, he hadn’t even realised his legs had stopped moving, as though something deep inside of him didn’t want to walk out of this moment— this opportunity to change things between him and Dongmin, because with every step he took, it felt heavier, like he’s abandoning something important.

Donghyun told himself not to cave, not to give into the tender memories resurfacing. The times they spent together listening to music with shared earbuds, the inside jokes and longing glances. 

But Donghyun chose to ignore, he pushed every reminder down, burying into the depths of his mind. Despite his efforts, his guilt left footprints in the sand of his mind, impossible to erase. 

The sound of keys jingling echoed as Donghyun fumbled around with the door to his apartment. His whole demeanour was off, he felt lost without the warmth of presence, since he rarely ever went back to his apartment straight after classes. All that consumed him was the tall walls of the corridor, his heart rate sped up as the pressure of the walls pressed against his back. 

The door swung open, and Donghyun tripped forward into the entrance of his apartment with staggered breaths. He kneeled down to the floor as he began to count to himself in a low whisper– this was all too familiar, the shortness of breath, the stirring dread coiling in his gut, the sudden sensation of being trapped. 

This wasn’t anything new, he had gone through this feeling too many times to not recognise the anxiety consuming him—haunting him. 

Calling Dongmin felt so easy. So natural, to the point Donghyun had been hovering over his contact without even realising what he was doing. 

He chewed at his lip, staring down at the profile picture displayed on his info page. It was a selfie of him and Dongmin from when they just turned seventeen, they just woke up from a nap in Sungho’s apartment at the time. 

Back then, Dongmin was awfully clingy, he remembers the boy admitting how much he enjoyed sleeping with Donghyun just to feel the soft fingers soothingly rake over his scalp in a gentle massage. And Donghyun loved having Dongmin—a personal hot-water bottle—practically attached to him. 

Donghyun only reminded himself that he wasn’t seventeen anymore. Life was different, their friendship had shifted. 

There was a passing beat of hesitation before he swiped off of Dongmin’s contact and onto their group chat like a quiet safety. 

Their chats hopped from topic to topic, conversations weaving through another one with every passing message. Admittedly, it was confusing, a mess, but it was the norm for Donghyun. 

Sanghyuk was the first to mention their get together, offering some milkshakes and skate time at the park. It didn’t take any convincing for Woonhak and Jaehyun to agree. They were like attention deprived puppies that whined and complained whenever they went a day without hanging out, despite how much they see each other in a week. 

Sungho chimed in between his sets at the gym a few minutes later, up for the plan— which only left Dongmin and Donghyun unanswered. 

A part of him considered the idea of going out with them; in fact, he was so consumed in his mind he hadn’t noticed Dongmin’s reply. It was very Dongmin-like, a simple thumbs up emoji. 

His heart raced at the simple reaction. Donghyun knew he shouldn’t be overthinking, but the jarring sting of being affected by something so small made him feel pathetic—weak. 

Although he truly wanted to go, the idea of facing Dongmin and having to answer the questions in his eyes– It had him falling further into the shell of his own mind carelessly. 

Donghyun typed something into the group chat between the blurs of vision, something along the lines of “cant got homework” and “id rather notlolol.” 

It was a dry, flimsy excuse but Donghyun didn’t bother to correct it, almost as if he was too busy trying to believe it himself. 

He disregarded the notifications that followed after, eyes slowly shutting as a blanket of sleep enveloped him. 

Dongmin tugged at his straw aimlessly through the milkshake, his gaze flickering to the empty spot beside him. Donghyun should’ve been here. He was always here. But now—he wasn’t. 

Everyone else is laughing, chatting, skating around but Dongmin feels hollow. He can’t bring himself to wipe away the disappointment from his face, even when Sungho walks over to him with that parental look of worry, he doesn’t speak up. He just mumbled out a half hearted lie, bringing the straw back to his mouth. 

His eyes flicker occasionally from the wheels of the skateboards flying past him to his phone laying on the concrete ground. With every glance, his curiosity grew more. He grabbed his phone, refreshing the chat over and over again. 

It was pathetic—but a part of him was hoping that maybe Donghyun would change his mind and show up. 

His hand aches from the tight grip on his phone. He let out a deep sigh, letting his index finger scroll up to Donghyun’s messages. His eyes scan over the message over and over again. Dongmin knows it’s a lie— “homework” has never once stopped Donghyun from hanging out.

He chews at his lip as he clicks onto Donghyun’s contact. His thumb moves before he has the chance to stop it, swallowing down the anxiety in a brief movement as he  types out something vague;

 “Are you okay?” 

Obviously he wasn’t okay, Dongmin knew that. But he felt helpless not knowing what was wrong. He stares a little longer at the message– Only to delete it after. 

“We should totally hang out soon”  Dongmin backspaces before his fingers could even finish typing the sentence, too afraid of the potential rejection—to the commitment of it all. 

He stares at the unsent words, thumb hovering, then locks his phone with a sigh, dropping it back onto the scuffed ground.

The sharp screech of wheels against the grind rail knocked Dongmin out of his mind. He looked to the right of him to see Woonhak sliding down a freestanding bar on Jaehyun’s skateboard. The noise rattled out until he landed on the ground, skating across the gravelled floor. 

Sungho and Jaehyun are both cheering him on as he rides farther along with huge smiles spread across their faces. “Yah! Taesanie, look! Hakie’s balancing!” Jaehyun yelled from the top of a ramp. 

He turned his attention, trying his best to force his excitement with a meek smile, but it never reached his eyes. Instead, they darted back and forth between his friends, his leg bouncing up and down absentmindedly within the focus. 

They were laughing with each other, chatting and whooping as Woonhak finally managed to land a kick-flip—They looked so… unfazed. 

Unfazed by Donghyun’s lack of presence—by the silence. The distance of it all. 

Dongmin feels almost embarrassed at how much it hurts. For them, it might just be “another group outing,” but to him, Donghyun’s absence feels like abandonment, like he’s losing a part of himself. 

Dongmin looks down at the milkshake that’s begun melting beneath the sun. It was still half full as he stirred it around with his straw. He couldn’t bring himself to drink it, not when his mind wanders back to Donghyun. 

He was always the one to suggest a milkshake run—And before Dongmin could reply, Donghyun was already dragging him by the wrist, giggling playfully. Dongmin always failed to hide his smile. 

Dongmin’s nails pressed against his palm, denting the soft flesh with the quiet sting of pain. It wasn’t just about missing him. It was the creeping fear that Donghyun didn’t want him anymore. That thought hurt more than anything.

“Taesan! Come here, let's take a selfie!” 

Before Dongmin could react, Sungho was already pulling him up from the ground. He didn’t resist— he didn’t have the energy to. 

Looking at himself through the camera lens, Dongmin felt like everything was upside down . He lingered at the back, his face blank while the rest of the group smiled and posed. 

“Taesanie, pose!” Woonhak nudged his shoulder playfully. Dongmin only clenched his jaw.

The hole that Donghyun left behind gnawed at him, cold and sharp. He felt it everywhere; in school, in the silence of class, in the games they used to play, even in the milkshake melting in his hand. 

“Is this not weird to you guys?” Dongmin blurted out, lowering his eyes as the camera clicked. 

The others turned, confused. A lump caught in Dongmin’s throat, but he forced the words out. “Like…not having Leehan here?” 

Sungho’s voice was soft, careful, “You know he doesn’t always come along with us.” 

Dongmin’s breath paused, the words sinking in with intentions blurring. He knew Sungho was trying to deescalate the situation. He knew he should just keep his mouth shut, but the reassurance didn’t land. Dongmin’s frustration boiled over. “You can’t seriously think he’s doing homework right now.” 

Jaehyun and Woonhak exchanged an uneasy glance, one Dongmin didn’t miss. Jaehyun looked at the ground and sighed, “I don’t know, Tae.” 

Dongmin's voice rose, not with anger but with an unmistakable firmness. “Do you not care?” 

Sanghyuk’s face tightened, a scowl forming as he cut through the chaos, a twinge of annoyance seeping into his words. “Of course we care. But you’re not his only friend.” 

Dongmin didn’t fight back the scoff that came out, his fists curling as he challenged back. “It sure doesn’t seem like it. Can’t you see something is wrong?” 

The group flinched at his tone, but Sanghyuk didn’t back down. He stepped closer, his words sharp and heavy.

“And what are you doing, huh? You’re sitting here with us, sulking when you’re the whole reason he’s like this, and you’re still too blind to face him.” 

Dongmin’s mouth shut, jaw clenching as he looked at Sanghyuk with wide eyes. Every syllable felt like a slap to his face. He hadn’t expected the raw anger in Sanghyuk’s voice, nor how much it’d cut. 

Dongmin didn’t want to believe his words. He wanted someone to cut in and tell Sanghyuk he was wrong—that he was being too harsh. But no one did, they all lowered their heads, avoiding eye contact as the air grew thicker with tension and heat. 

Dongmin didn’t say anything, he just turned around– knocking his unfinished milkshake onto the concrete as he walked away. 

He couldn’t stay. Not after that. Not with the guilt pressing heavier than ever. 

And the worst part—admitting to himself that what Sanghyuk said was right. The bitter truth. 

There was a whirlwind of emotions storming his mind that worsened with every step he took. Even under the roof of his own apartment, he felt unsteady. Sanghyuk’s words lingered, bouncing back and forth between his fear of losing Donghyun and the crushing guilt of not doing enough. 

He shrugged off his jacket halfway, stumbling into his bedroom to change. A subtle tremor ran through his hands, one he couldn’t seem to shake. He ignored it, drifting back out into the living area until he found himself by the record player.  

Music had always been his anchor. He dropped the needle, letting the familiar crackle fill the silence. The melodies soothed him, just as they always had– through every season, every storm. 

His gaze slipped to the ledge beneath the glass, where a framed photo sat. A skiing trip—Jaehyun’s gift. Their noses red from the cold, their cheeks round from laughter. Everyone was looking at the camera. Everyone except him.

Dongmin’s face was tilted, his eyes fixed on Donghyun instead.

Even now, years later, he could see it so clearly. The way his own gaze softened, the half-curve of his lips betraying a smile that had nothing to do with the camera and everything to do with the boy beside him.

It was embarrassing, almost pathetic, how obvious it looked in hindsight. Like the picture had captured the secret he thought he’d buried—how every little thing about Donghyun drew him in, how he’d been quietly falling long before he realized it himself.

Staring at the photo now, his throat tightened. Everyone else just saw a memory. But to him, it was proof of something truer, something he was terrified of losing: the way Donghyun had always been the center of his world.

The next track clicked into place, Sinatra’s voice spilling softly through the speakers. Dongmin let out a sigh, dragging himself into the kitchen. The hum of music intertwined with the sharp sizzle of meat against the hot pan, filling his apartment.

Despite how late it was, he wasn’t hungry. Yet that gentle, familiar echo of Donghyun’s voice—always nudging him to eat—pushed him toward the packeted rice. 

The silence overpowered the music sinking into the walls, even as his favourite song began to play, Dongmin was in a faze– jaw mouthing mechanically with every bite as he forced himself to eat. 

Finally meeting the soft plush of his bed felt like a gift, exhaustion wrapping over him with relief. All Dongmin wished for right now was sleep as he snuggled into his comforter, hands finding the familiar dog plushie beneath his head. 

It belonged to Donghyun. The sight of it alone made Dongmin’s heart jump to his throat but he ignored it, bringing the toy closer to his face; taking in the comforting scent, beginning to relax. 

His eyes closed, but his brain fought back. Sleep slipped further the more he chased it. Every turn of his pillow, every restless toss, was met with the same thought. Donghyun. The distanced pressed down like a weight on his chest, suffocating. 

Without thinking, Dongmin’s hand reached for his phone. The glow stung his eyes, but he pushed through, scrolling to that familiar contact. Their last message– left on read. His finger twitched towards the ‘send’ button. 

His thumb hovered over the send button, the words glaring back at him: "Please just tell me what’s wrong."

He inhaled sharply, sitting up against the headboard, looking down at the cursor blinking in the textbox. The silence was loud, heart pounding in his ears as his chest screamed to hit it, to do anything, but he couldn’t. 

Not like this. 

Not through a screen.

If Donghyun was slipping away, Dongmin couldn’t risk watching it happen in blue text bubbles.

He needed to see him. Face to face.

Dongmin stared down at his phone, eyes unmoving as the cursor continued to blink back like a shallow taunt. He felt so helpless. The war between his heart and his brain had begun to exhaust him but even then, he stayed looking down at Donghyun’s contact. 

His finger brushed down the edge of his phone, grip tightening. He physically couldn’t bring himself to send it. Dongmin knew better than that. 

Running a hand through his hair, Dongmin shut his phone off, his shoulders slumping as he slid further into his sheets. His back relaxed against the pillows and his breathing softened into quiet puffs, his chest rising and falling in rhythm. 

Dongmin’s gaze was no longer on his phone, rather it was directed at the ceiling through half-lidded eyes. 

The worry of what he’ll find consumes him in the form of creeping anxiety burning in his stomach, but the overpowering fear of losing him forever screams louder. 

His eyes begin to feel heavy, and despite the weight against his chest, he drifts into a shallow, uneasy sleep with the decision echoing in his mind.