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Kim Mingyu could never remember a time without Jeon Wonwoo.

Their mothers had been best friends since school, the kind of friends who knew each other’s coffee orders, cried at each other’s weddings, and insisted their kids were basically siblings. 

Mingyu grew up in Wonwoo’s orbit before he even learned the word “orbit.” There were playdates every weekend, birthday parties thrown together, family trips where the Jeons and the Kims packed into the same van like one oversized clan.

To Mingyu, childhood wasn’t just his own, it was theirs.

Some kids got playground acquaintances or fleeting neighbors. 

Mingyu got Wonwoo.

When they were little, Wonwoo was taller. Not just taller in the way older kids always were, but taller in spirit. Wonwoo was loud, sure of himself, with a grin that dared anyone to keep up. 

Mingyu, the younger tagalong, thought it was the coolest thing in the world.

Wonwoo had been the one to introduce himself at kindergarten while Mingyu hid behind his mother’s legs, then dragged Mingyu into every game until shyness had no room to exist.

“Come on, Min,” Wonwoo would shout across the playground, already halfway up the jungle gym. “Don’t be slow!”

Mingyu, tiny legs pumping, scrambled after him. He’d get stuck halfway, whining that his arms weren’t long enough, and Wonwoo would lean down, grab his wrist, and tug him the rest of the way up.

“You’re weak,” Wonwoo teased, ruffling Mingyu’s hair.

“You’re mean,” Mingyu pouted, though the warmth in his chest said otherwise.

Wonwoo was his safe place. 

The one who asked for two straws when they got a milkshake, the one who lent him crayons without making him beg, the one who sat beside him when the night felt too loud. Mingyu worshipped him with all the loyalty a younger kid could muster.

Back then, Wonwoo’s voice had been the one everyone heard first. Mingyu had been the quiet shadow, wide-eyed and eager, running after him.

But time had a funny way of turning tables.

It began the summer Mingyu shot up like bamboo, a growth spurt that left him clumsy in his own skin. He shot up in height so quickly that even his teachers blinked every semester. 

One summer he had been a boy just brushing Wonwoo’s shoulder. By the next, he was looming over him, all arms and legs like a baby giraffe.

He remembered it clearly. The day they met after a few weeks apart, Wonwoo walked in with his usual confident smile, and Mingyu realized with a jolt that he had to tilt his head down to look at him.

“Hyung,” Mingyu said, eyes wide, “I’m taller than you.”

Wonwoo blinked at him, then narrowed his eyes. “Barely.”

“No,” Mingyu said, stepping closer, standing just a little straighter. “See? You have to look up now.”

“Don’t get cocky.”

Wonwoo had rolled his eyes, shoving at Mingyu’s shoulder, but he had tilted his head back just slightly to meet his gaze. Mingyu had felt something strange in his chest at that. Something warm, something that lingered.

That feeling only grew stronger with time.

High school flipped their roles completely. 

Wonwoo grew quieter. He still had that sharp wit, but he wielded it sparingly now, like a blade he kept hidden until he needed it. He preferred books to gossip, sat in corners instead of crowds, but somehow that only made him more intimidating.

Mingyu, on the other hand, found himself filling the silence that Wonwoo left behind. 

He became louder, brighter, the kind of boy who laughed easily and got pulled into sports teams without even trying. People noticed him, waved at him, wanted to be his friend.

To everyone else, Wonwoo was the clever upperclassman you didn’t mess with. 

He was the class president, sharp in speech, collected in manner, the kind of person who could silence a room without raising his voice.

To Mingyu, though, he was still the boy who patched up his knees with cartoon band-aids, the boy who leaned close when he whispered a joke, the boy who once yelled at bullies for picking on a shy kid.

Mingyu’s crush had crept up slowly, but once it took root, it refused to leave. 

He liked the way Wonwoo absentmindedly adjusted his glasses when he read. He liked the way Wonwoo laughed at the dumbest jokes when no one else was listening. 

He liked the way, despite being older, Wonwoo still had to look up at him now.

And maybe it was stupid, but sometimes Mingyu caught himself imagining it; how it would feel if Wonwoo leaned up just a little closer, how natural it might be to close that tiny distance between them, how easy it would be to bend down and kiss him.

That thought alone was enough to make Mingyu’s ears burn, though he never admitted it out loud.

It was at the end of high school that Mingyu's feelings stopped being innocent.

One afternoon, they were sprawled across Wonwoo's bed, textbooks scattered between them like a paper battlefield. Mingyu had long since given up on verbs, his pen tapping an aimless rhythm against his notebook while he stared at the ceiling.

"You're not even trying," Wonwoo said without looking up, flipping a page in his book.

"I'm thinking," Mingyu lied.

"You're daydreaming." Wonwoo finally glanced over, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. "Focus. If you want to get into a good university, you actually have to study."

Mingyu rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand. "I don't care about getting into a good university."

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow. "That's a terrible attitude."

"I just want to go to the one you're going to."

The words came out easier than Mingyu expected, too honest, too raw. Wonwoo blinked at him, something unreadable flickering across his face.

"So you don't think I'd get into a good university?" Wonwoo asked, tone light but with an edge of challenge.

"What? No!" Mingyu sat up quickly, defensive. "That's not–god, hyung, you know what I meant."

"Do I?"

"You're being annoying on purpose."

"And you're being lazy on purpose."

Mingyu grabbed the nearest pillow and swung it at Wonwoo's head. Wonwoo caught it easily, laughing, and shoved it back at him. It dissolved quickly after that, the way it always did with them, with textbooks pushed aside, limbs tangling as they wrestled like they were still kids on a playground.

Mingyu had the advantage now. 

He caught Wonwoo's wrists, pinning them above his head with one hand while his other hand pressed against Wonwoo's waist to keep him down. They were both laughing, breathless, Wonwoo squirming beneath him and making half-hearted protests.

"Okay, okay, you win," Wonwoo said, still grinning. "Get off, you giant–"

But Mingyu had stopped listening.

His palm, pressed flat against Wonwoo's waist, had found bare skin. Wonwoo's shirt had ridden up in the struggle, exposing a strip of his side, warm and soft under Mingyu's fingertips.

The laughter died in Mingyu's throat.

He became suddenly, painfully aware of everything. 

The way Wonwoo's chest rose and fell beneath him. The way his wrists felt delicate in Mingyu's grip. The way his hair had fallen across his forehead, messy and dark. The way he was looking up at Mingyu with flushed cheeks and bright eyes, still catching his breath.

Mingyu's thoughts went somewhere they shouldn't have.

If I pushed the shirt a little higher. If I pressed down a little harder.

His heart thudded so hard he worried Wonwoo could hear it.

"Mingyu?"

Wonwoo's voice snapped him back to reality, concerned and questioning. Mingyu realized he'd been staring, frozen in place, his hand still burning against Wonwoo's skin.

"Sorry," Mingyu blurted, jerking back like he'd been burned. He scrambled off the bed, forcing a laugh that sounded too loud, too fake even to his own ears. "You're right. I should focus."

Wonwoo sat up slowly, tugging his shirt back down, looking at Mingyu with an expression he couldn't quite read. "...Yeah. Okay."

Mingyu had to excuse himself to the bathroom, splashing water on his face, staring at his reflection. He looked like someone who'd just done something wrong, even though he hadn't. Even though nothing had happened.

It's nothing, he told himself. You're just being weird. It doesn't mean anything.

But when he returned to Wonwoo's room and found him back at his textbook, Wonwoo looked up with a small smile, soft and familiar and completely unaware, and Mingyu's chest went warm in that now-familiar way.

It only got worse.

By university, their roles were cemented.

Mingyu was the loud, popular jock everyone seemed to know. He had teammates who clapped him on the back in hallways, classmates who begged for notes, and a reputation that hovered somewhere between reliable and hopelessly flirted with.

Somewhere between high school and university, Mingyu had decided to actually work out, properly this time. What started as a way to kill time between classes turned into a routine, then a habit, then something that reshaped him entirely. 

He grew into himself in a way that felt almost unfair. Broader shoulders, a sharper jawline, arms that filled out his shirts just enough to make people look twice. He'd always been tall, but now he carried it differently. Confident. Aware.

He became the campus crush. Men and women alike would do double-takes when he passed by. He'd catch lingering stares in the gym, get slipped phone numbers during group projects, and hear his name whispered in dining halls like some kind of urban legend.

It was flattering, sure. But it didn't mean much to him.

He hung around with Seokmin, who was a walking burst of sunshine, and Minghao, who rolled his eyes at everything but stuck by him anyway.

Somehow, the three of them balanced each other out. Seokmin pushed Minghao to have fun, Minghao stopped Seokmin from setting things on fire, and Mingyu was the giant buffer caught in the middle.

Wonwoo was the student council president. Calm, efficient, impossible to ignore. He wasn’t loud anymore, but he didn’t need to be. He could silence a room with a look, win debates with two sentences, and command respect without raising his voice. 

Most people found him intimidating. Mingyu found him magnetic.

Wonwoo spent his days in meetings with Soonyoung, who managed to balance his reputation as a chaos magnet with his work as vice president of the student council. 

Then there was Jun, who had a smile that could talk professors into granting extensions, and Jihoon, who could glare a person into silence without lifting a finger. 

But he never drifted too far from Mingyu. 

They were still best friends, still orbiting each other the way they always had. They studied together, walked home when their schedules lined up, swapped snacks and inside jokes no one else understood.

But for Mingyu, those moments didn’t feel so innocent anymore.

Every time Wonwoo moved close to explain something on a page, the scent of his shampoo filling the space between them, Mingyu had to fight the urge to move even closer. 

Every time Wonwoo leaned over his notes, his sleeve brushing Mingyu’s arm, Mingyu had to dig his nails into his palm to stop himself from reaching out and tracing that line of contact higher.

Every time Wonwoo tilted his head back to meet his eyes, because Mingyu had grown taller, broader, taller still, the thought slipped in uninvited. What if he leaned up just a little further? What if I bent down just a little lower?

Even the small things got to him now. 

The way Wonwoo adjusted his glasses with long, steady fingers. The way his lips parted slightly when he was thinking. The way his voice dropped lower when it was just the two of them.

It was stupid. Dangerous. He knew that. 

But the more he tried to shove it down, the stronger it clawed its way up.

Mingyu’s crush was no longer something sweet and harmless. 

It was heavier now, sharper, threaded with the kind of want that couldn’t keep him from going insane. At night, when he lay awake staring at the ceiling, he sometimes caught himself wondering what it would feel like to close the gap between them. 

To feel that soft voice against his mouth instead of the air. To press his hand against the curve of Wonwoo’s back and pull him closer until there was no space left at all.

He hated himself a little for it. 

For thinking things about his best friend that he shouldn’t. For wanting in ways he couldn’t ever say. For wondering what it would be like if the line between them blurred, if that careful friendship tipped into something else entirely.

It wasn’t just admiration, or comfort, or childhood loyalty.

It was want. Pure, aching want.

And Mingyu had no idea what to do about it.

The corridor was quiet, the kind of stillness that only existed between classes. 

Mingyu leaned against the wall outside Wonwoo's classroom, arms crossed, waiting. A few students lingered by the water fountain, their whispers carrying down the hall. When they noticed him, their eyes went wide, enamored smiles breaking across their faces. A girl walking past nearly dropped her phone.

Mingyu barely registered any of it.

The bell rang.

Within seconds, the corridor flooded with students pouring out of classrooms. A few called out greetings as they passed. "Hey, Mingyu sunbae!" Others just stared, giggles trailing in their wake.

Then Wonwoo stepped out, and his eyes widened when he saw Mingyu there.

"Hyung," Mingyu said, pushing off the wall.

Wonwoo walked over, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. "You're done already? How'd the debate go?"

Mingyu hummed, noncommittal.

Wonwoo's eyes narrowed. His gaze swept over Mingyu's face, reading him the way he always could. After a beat, his expression softened into something sympathetic. He thought Mingyu had lost. "It's fine. Let's just go eat."

They fell into step together, the hallway noise fading into background static as they talked. Wonwoo mentioned something about a student council meeting later. Mingyu complained about soccer practice. Easy. Comfortable. 

Just before the cafeteria entrance, Mingyu reached into his pocket.

He pulled out the gold medal and dropped it onto Wonwoo's head.

Wonwoo stopped walking. He blinked, confused, then reached up and pulled the medal down to look at it. For a moment, he just stared. Then he looked up at Mingyu, and his face broke into a smile, fond and unsurprised all at once.

"I knew you wouldn't settle for anything else."

Mingyu's heart kicked hard against his ribs.

It was just a sentence. Just Wonwoo knowing him, believing in him, the way he always had. But it hit Mingyu like a physical thing, warm and aching in equal measure.

"Yeah, well," Mingyu muttered, looking away. "Can't disappoint you, can I?"

Wonwoo's smile widened. He looped the medal around his neck, letting it settle against his chest like it had always belonged there. "Come on. I'm starving."

The cafeteria was loud and crowded, but their table stood out. Soonyoung was mid-story, hands flying everywhere. Jun looked half-asleep in his chair, scrolling lazily through his phone. Jihoon ate in silence, pointedly ignoring everyone. Seokmin waved them over so enthusiastically he nearly knocked over Minghao's drink.

The second they sat down, Soonyoung's eyes locked onto the medal hanging from Wonwoo's neck.

"Wait, no way!" He practically shouted it. "Mingyu, you won?"

Jun didn't even look up. "When does he not?"

"Congrats," Jihoon said flatly, though there was warmth underneath it.

Seokmin clapped Mingyu on the back, grinning. "Told you you'd kill it."

Minghao raised his drink in a lazy toast. "To our campus celebrity."

No one questioned why Wonwoo was wearing Mingyu's medal. It was normal. Expected, even. Mingyu's ears burned anyway, a searing red.

He focused on his food, trying to ignore the way his pulse hadn't settled. The first bite hit his tongue, and he immediately regretted it. The spice burned down his throat, eyes watering. His tolerance was nonexistent.

But before he could grab his water, something smacked into his chest.

Banana milk.

He looked up. Wonwoo was watching him, eyebrow raised, lips quirked in quiet amusement. Mingyu flushed, grabbed the milk, and drank half of it in one go. The sweetness cut through the burn.

When he lowered the carton, Minghao and Seokmin were staring at him with identical knowing looks. Mingyu's face went hot, and he ducked his head, suddenly very interested in his tray.

That's why he didn't notice someone approaching until they were right beside the table.

"Hey, Wonwoo sunbae."

Mingyu looked up.

Bae Yuheon stood there, one of Mingyu's soccer teammates, a year below them. A confident smile, easy posture. Normally, Mingyu liked him just fine. Right now, dread coiled tight in his stomach.

Wonwoo glanced up, polite as always. "Yuheon. What's up?"

"Could I borrow you for a minute?"

Wonwoo looked at the table briefly, then nodded. "Sure."

He stood.

And Mingyu watched.

Sound drained away. Time dragged. The cafeteria blurred at the edges, noise fading into something distant and muffled. All Mingyu could see was Yuheon leading Wonwoo toward the exit, walking side by side, their heights perfectly matched.

The thought hit him like a punch to the chest.

Wonwoo doesn't have to look up at him.

He wouldn't have to lean up to kiss him.

It's perfect.

Mingyu's fingers tightened around his chopsticks until they shook. His throat closed up. Across the table, Minghao and Seokmin exchanged a glance. Something soft and pitying passed between them.

Mingyu forced himself to take another bite. It tasted like nothing. He chewed. Swallowed. Didn't feel any of it. The banana milk sat in front of him, condensation pooling at the base.

Already cold.

The next day, the soccer field was brutal under the afternoon sun. 

Mingyu ran drills with his team, whistle sharp between his teeth as he called out formations. As captain, he pushed everyone hard. But if anyone noticed that Yuheon kept getting the harder drills, the more grueling positions, the extra laps, no one said a thing.

Practice was winding down when Mingyu caught movement in his peripheral vision. He glanced toward the bleachers and saw Wonwoo making his way down the steps, bag slung over one shoulder.

Mingyu's face split into a grin.

Then it faltered. His chest tightened as a thought crept in, the devil whispering what if he's here for Yuheon this time?

Still, Mingyu jogged toward the railing that separated the field from the bleachers, unable to stop himself. "Hyung!" he called out, louder than necessary. Wonwoo looked up and smiled, changing direction to meet him at the railing.

Mingyu leaned against it, arms folded over the top bar, slightly breathless. "What are you doing here?"

"Picking you up," Wonwoo said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Practice almost over?"

"Yeah, just cooling down now." Mingyu wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "You didn't have to come all the way out here, though. I could've met you at the dorms."

Wonwoo shrugged. "I had some free time. Figured I'd walk with you." He tilted his head slightly, eyes scanning Mingyu's face. "You look tired."

"I'm fine. Coach just had us doing sprints for like an hour." Mingyu straightened up a bit, flexing his shoulders. "I'm built for this."

"Built for complaining about it later, maybe."

Mingyu laughed. "Yeah, probably." He paused, then asked, "How was your day?"

"Long. Had back-to-back meetings with the student council. Soonyoung almost started a fight with the budgeting committee."

"What? Why?"

"He wanted to allocate funds for a 'Tiger Awareness Campaign.'" Wonwoo's expression was perfectly deadpan. "We don't even have tigers on campus."

Mingyu snorted. "That sounds exactly like something he'd do."

"Jihoon vetoed it in under ten seconds."

"Of course he did."

Wonwoo's lips quirked up at the corners, and Mingyu felt that familiar warmth bloom in his chest. They fell into comfortable silence for a moment, just looking at each other across the railing.

Then Wonwoo glanced past Mingyu toward the field. "Your team's wrapping up."

Mingyu turned to see a few of his teammates starting to head toward the locker rooms. "Yeah, guess so."

"Good." Wonwoo looked back at him, eyes bright with something playful. "Hurry up and shower so we can go home and watch the new Marvel movie."

Mingyu blinked. "Wait, it's out already?"

"Came out yesterday."

"Shit, really? Okay, wait for me. I'll be fast."

"You better be. I've been avoiding spoilers all day."

Mingyu grinned and pushed off the railing, already turning to jog back toward the locker room. But something made him glance back over his shoulder.

Wonwoo was still standing there. But his gaze had shifted slightly, toward the field. Toward Yuheon. Their eyes met for just a second. Then Wonwoo looked away.

Mingyu's stomach dropped.

He forced himself to keep moving, jogging into the locker room before he could think too hard about it.

The locker room was loud with post-practice chatter, the sound of showers running and lockers slamming. Mingyu showered quickly, scrubbing off the sweat and grime, trying not to let his thoughts spiral.

By the time he got out and started getting dressed, most of the team had already left. Only a few stragglers remained. Seungcheol was one of them, pulling a hoodie over his damp hair.

"What are you still doing here, hyung?" Mingyu asked, tugging on his shirt.

"Forgot my phone charger yesterday. Had to dig through my locker." Seungcheol zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "What about you? Got plans?"

"Yeah. Watching a movie with Wonwoo."

"Ah." Seungcheol nodded slowly, something knowing in his tone. "Cool."

Silence settled between them. Mingyu laced up his shoes, trying to ignore the weight of Seungcheol's gaze on him. Then Seungcheol spoke again, casual but deliberate. "Wonwoo rejected him, by the way."

Mingyu's hands froze on his shoelaces.

He looked up sharply. "What?"

"Yesterday. After Yuheon asked him out." Seungcheol said it like he was commenting on the weather. "Wonwoo turned him down."

Mingyu's heart was doing something erratic in his chest. "Why are you telling me this?"

Seungcheol gave him a look. "Because you've been miserable since yesterday, and I'm tired of watching you sulk."

"I'm not sulking."

"You gave Yuheon extra suicide runs today."

"That's just training."

"Mingyu." Seungcheol's voice was firmer now. "Come on. We all know."

Mingyu's jaw tightened. He turned back to his shoes, yanking the laces tight. "Know what?"

"That you're in love with Wonwoo."

The words hung in the air, stark and undeniable.

Mingyu didn't respond. He couldn't.

Seungcheol sighed and sat down on the bench beside him. "Look, I'm not trying to make this a whole thing. But you should tell him."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because–" Mingyu's voice cracked slightly. He swallowed hard. "Because what if it ruins everything? What if he doesn't feel the same way and it gets weird, and we can't go back?"

"And what if he does feel the same way?"

Mingyu shook his head. "He doesn't."

"You don't know that."

"I do, hyung." Mingyu's voice was quiet now, almost bitter. "He's–he's Wonwoo. He could have anyone. He's smart, and he's kind, and people respect him. And I'm just–I'm the guy who's been following him around since we were kids. He probably still sees me as that stupid kid who couldn't even climb a jungle gym without help."

Seungcheol was quiet for a moment. Then he said, softly, "He wears your medals, Mingyu."

Mingyu looked up.

"He waits for you after practice. He brings you banana milk when your food is too spicy. He turns people down because they're not you." Seungcheol's gaze was steady, serious. "I'm not saying it's a guarantee. But if you don't at least try, you're going to regret it."

Mingyu opened his mouth, then closed it again. He didn't know what to say.

Seungcheol stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Just think about it, yeah?"

He walked out, leaving Mingyu alone in the locker room with his thoughts. When Mingyu finally stepped outside, Wonwoo was still there. But he wasn't alone.

Minghao and Jun were with him, the three of them standing near the edge of the field. Minghao was scrolling through his phone while Jun leaned lazily against the railing, saying something that made Wonwoo huff out a quiet laugh.

Seungcheol jogged over to them, and Minghao looked up. His eyes flicked from Seungcheol to Mingyu, then to Wonwoo. Something unreadable passed across his face.

He gave Mingyu a look.

Mingyu ignored it.

"Ready?" Wonwoo asked, straightening up when he saw Mingyu approach.

"Yeah. Let's go."

Wonwoo said quick goodbyes to the others, and then it was just the two of them, walking away from the field as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

"Took you long enough," Wonwoo said, falling into step beside him. "I thought you said you'd be fast."

"I was fast."

"You were fifteen minutes."

"That is fast for me."

Wonwoo snorted. "Your standards are terrible."

"You're still here, aren't you?"

"Unfortunately."

And Mingyu thought, just for a second, that maybe Seungcheol had a point.

That night, lying awake in his dorm room, Mingyu stared at the ceiling and thought about Wonwoo again.

It wasn't unusual. He always thought about Wonwoo.

But this time felt different. Instead of the usual ache, there was something sharper. Something restless. His chest felt too tight, his body too wired, like the feelings had outgrown him and were pressing against his skin, demanding a way out.

He wears your medals, Mingyu.

Seungcheol's words kept replaying in his head, over and over, until Mingyu wanted to scream.

He couldn't tell Wonwoo. He couldn't risk it.

But maybe... maybe he could write it down. Get it out of his system. And then maybe, once all these feelings were on paper instead of choking him from the inside, he could go back to being just best friends again.

The thought took hold before he could shake it off.

Mingyu sat up, turned on his desk lamp, and pulled out a blank sheet of paper. The soft yellow glow spilled across the page as he stared at it, pen hovering uselessly between his fingers. His chest felt too full, like all the words he'd swallowed for years were pressing against his ribs, begging to be let out.

He didn't plan to give it to Wonwoo. Not really.

This was supposed to be for him. A way to breathe again. A way to empty out the mess in his head. He could shove the letter in a drawer when it was done, pretend it didn't exist, and no one would ever know.

But the second he tried to write, he froze.

How exactly was a person supposed to confess feelings that had been quietly growing for over a decade?

He couldn't write as himself. That much was obvious. If he did, and Wonwoo didn’t feel the same way, everything would go to hell. He'd probably laugh in his face. Not in a cruel way, but in that dry, amused way he always did when Mingyu said something stupid.

So Mingyu made a choice.

If he was going to confess, it would be as someone else. Not Mingyu, the best friend. Just... a stranger. Someone who admired Jeon Wonwoo from afar. Someone who could say what Mingyu never could.

And the second his pen touched the paper, the words poured out like water from a burst dam.

Dear Wonwoo,

I don't know if you'll ever read this. And even if you do, I don't know if you'll care. But I couldn't keep quiet anymore. I just wanted you to know that there's someone out there who notices you. Really notices you.

Mingyu paused, chewing the cap of his pen. This wasn't bad. It was vague enough. Safe.

You always look so composed. So untouchable. Everyone sees the student council president, the sharp eyes, the intimidating reputation. But I've also seen the way you smile when you think no one's looking. The way you hold the door open, even when you're in a rush. The way your voice softens when you talk to people you care about.

His hand flew across the page now, heart pounding so hard he could hear it.

Those small things... they're what make you beautiful. And I don't mean it in some casual way. I mean it in the kind of way that makes my chest feel too tight when you're near. In the kind of way that makes me think about you more than I should.

Mingyu's ears burned. He was suddenly very aware of how quiet his dorm room was, how exposed he felt even though he was completely alone.

You don't need to reply to this. I don't expect you to. I just wanted to tell you that you're not as alone as you think. Someone out there is in love with you. And maybe that's enough for me, even if you never know who I am.

Love,
Your Secret Admirer

Mingyu dropped his pen. The words on the page felt too much, too raw, and yet not nearly enough to capture everything he actually felt.

He read it over twice, biting his lip hard enough to hurt. Then he folded it carefully and slipped it into an envelope he'd dug out from his desk drawer. This one wasn't meant to stay hidden. He realized that with a wild rush of adrenaline that made his hands shake slightly as he sealed it.

This one was meant to be seen.

Wonwoo would never know it was him. It would just be an anonymous letter from a secret admirer. He stared at the envelope for a long moment. Then he shoved it into his bag before he could change his mind.

The next morning, Mingyu slipped the letter into Wonwoo's locker before classes started, hands shaking slightly as he shoved it through the vents.

He then spent the rest of the day burying himself in classes, practice, and anything else that would keep his mind from spiraling into panic. He went home for the weekend to visit his family, grateful for the distance and distraction.

Mingyu's phone buzzed just as his last class ended.

Seokmin: courtyard. now. we're dying of boredom

Mingyu grinned and headed out, bag slung over one shoulder. The courtyard was bathed in late afternoon sun, groups of students catching up on their weekends.

He spotted the group immediately, sprawled across the grass in their usual chaotic formation. Seokmin was gesturing wildly about something. Minghao looked half-asleep. Jun was on his phone. Seungkwan was sitting upright, lecturing someone about something.

And Wonwoo was there, sitting with his knees drawn up, looking relaxed in a way that made Mingyu's chest warm.

Mingyu walked over, dropped his bag, and dramatically draped himself across Seungkwan's lap.

"Get off me, you giant!" Seungkwan shrieked, shoving at him.

Mingyu laughed, rolling off and plopping down next to Wonwoo like he always did. Close enough that their shoulders almost touched. He turned to Wonwoo with a grin. "Hey, hyung. Miss me?"

Wonwoo's eyes went wide for just a second. He blinked, something flickering across his face that Mingyu couldn't read. "Hey," he said, voice slightly breathless. "Yeah. How was home?"

"Good. My mom made me bring back like five containers of food." Mingyu shifted closer, pressing his shoulder against Wonwoo's the way he always did. Casual. Familiar.

But Wonwoo pulled away.

It was subtle, just a slight shift, leaning back on his hands, putting a few inches of space between them. But Mingyu noticed. His smile faltered for just a second before he covered it up.

"You okay?" Mingyu asked.

"Yeah. Fine." Wonwoo's voice was even, but he wasn't looking at Mingyu. His gaze was fixed somewhere over Seokmin's shoulder. Mingyu frowned slightly but let it go. Maybe Wonwoo was just tired.

The next day, Mingyu saw Wonwoo in the library.

He'd been studying, or trying to, when he spotted that familiar figure two tables over, hunched over a laptop with his headphones on. Mingyu felt that automatic pull, the urge to go over and bother him until Wonwoo gave him that exasperated but fond look.

So he did.

Mingyu grabbed his stuff and moved to Wonwoo's table, sliding into the chair across from him. "Hey."

Wonwoo looked up, and for a split second, something like panic crossed his face before it smoothed into neutrality. He pulled off his headphones. "Hey."

"Whatcha working on?"

"Student council budget report."

"Sounds boring."

"It is."

Mingyu grinned. "Want a break? I was gonna grab coffee."

Wonwoo hesitated. His eyes darted to his screen, then back to Mingyu. "I... should probably finish this."

"Come on, it's just coffee. Fifteen minutes."

"I really can't, Mingyu." Wonwoo's voice was firmer now. "I have a deadline."

"Oh." Mingyu's smile dimmed. "Okay. Yeah, no worries."

"Thanks, though."

Mingyu nodded and stood up, gathering his stuff. He glanced back once as he walked away. Wonwoo had already put his headphones back on, but his fingers were frozen over the keyboard, not typing at all.

A few days later, he was late to lunch.

Mingyu carried his tray to their usual table where half the group was already gathered. Wonwoo was there too, sitting between Jun and Jihoon, picking at his food.

Mingyu sat down across from him. "Hyung, you want my extra kimbap? I grabbed too much."

Wonwoo looked up, met his eyes for barely a second, then looked away. "I'm good. Thanks."

"You sure? You barely have anything–"

"I said I'm good."

The table went quiet for a beat. Seokmin and Minghao exchanged glances.

Mingyu set his chopsticks down slowly. "Okay."

The conversation picked back up around them, but Mingyu couldn't focus on it. He kept looking at Wonwoo, waiting for him to glance up, to smile, to do anything that felt normal.

Wonwoo kept his eyes on his tray the entire time. When lunch ended, Wonwoo stood up first. "I've got a meeting. See you guys later." He left without looking back.

Mingyu watched him go, chest tight.

"What's up with him?" Seokmin asked quietly.

"I don't know," Mingyu muttered.

Later that night, Mingyu tried texting.

Mingyu: you free tonight?

Mingyu: wanna watch that new episode?

He waited. Ten minutes. Twenty. An hour.

Finally, his phone buzzed.

Wonwoo: can't. busy with council stuff

Mingyu: tomorrow?

There was no response. Mingyu stared at his phone, jaw tight. Wonwoo always answered. Even when he was busy, even when he was tired, he always at least sent something back.

This felt deliberate.

Friday, after soccer practice, Mingyu was walking back to the dorms, sweaty and exhausted, when he saw Wonwoo up ahead on the path. His heart lifted automatically.

"Hyung!" Mingyu jogged to catch up. "Wait up!"

Wonwoo slowed but didn't stop. Mingyu fell into step beside him, slightly out of breath.

"Haven't seen you all week," Mingyu said, trying to keep his tone light. "You've been busy, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Wanna grab dinner? I'm starving."

"I already ate."

"Oh." Mingyu's stomach twisted. "Well, we could just hang out then. There's a party at Hansol's place tonight. You wanna come?"

Wonwoo's steps faltered for just a second. "I can't."

"Come on, it'll be fun. Everyone's going."

"I have to finish the monthly report for the Principal Kang." Wonwoo's voice was flat, rehearsed. "It's due Monday."

"Oh." Mingyu's shoulders dropped. "Right. Yeah, that's important."

"Yeah."

They walked in silence for a few more steps. Mingyu tried to think of something else to say, something that would make Wonwoo look at him the way he used to. But his mind was blank.

"Okay, well," Mingyu said finally. "Good luck with the report."

"Thanks." Wonwoo turned toward his dorm building without another word. Mingyu watched him go, that familiar ache in his chest growing sharper.

Mingyu decided not to go to the party either. If Wonwoo was spending his Friday night working on reports, maybe Mingyu should do something productive too. Take a page out of Wonwoo's book. Study a little. Be responsible.

So he did.

He showered, changed into comfortable clothes, and spread his textbooks across his desk. For a while, he actually managed to focus. Highlighted passages. Took notes. Let the quiet of his dorm room settle around him like a blanket.

After an hour, he needed a break. He grabbed his phone and opened Instagram, scrolling mindlessly.

Then he saw Soonyoung's story.

The first slide was a blurry shot of Hansol's living room, packed with people. Music thumping. Red cups everywhere. The second slide was clearer.

Wonwoo was right there in the frame, standing next to Soonyoung. He was grinning, actually grinning, wide and bright in a way Mingyu hadn't seen all week. He had a cup in his hand, clearly alcohol, and his cheeks were flushed. He looked happy. Relaxed.

Like he hadn't just told Mingyu he was too busy to go.

Mingyu's thumb froze on the screen.

He stared at the image. At Wonwoo's smile. At the easy way he leaned into Soonyoung's side. At the party he'd said he couldn't attend because of work.

Something cold and hollow spread through Mingyu's chest. His emotions went numb, like someone had flipped a switch and turned everything off. He let his phone shut off. The screen went black, and he was left staring at his own reflection in the dark glass.

Mingyu climbed into bed. He didn't bother changing out of his clothes or turning off the desk lamp. He just pulled the covers over himself and curled up on his side.

And then he cried.

Quietly at first, just tears sliding down his face into his pillow. Then harder, his shoulders shaking, his breath coming in sharp, painful gasps. He cried until his throat hurt and his eyes burned and he didn't have anything left.

Eventually, exhaustion dragged him under.

He fell asleep with his phone clutched in one hand and Wonwoo's smile burned into the back of his eyelids.

A week later, Mingyu was exhausted.

It had been so long since he'd actually talked to Wonwoo. Really talked, not just awkward half-sentences in passing, and it was killing him inside. The constant ache in his chest had become background noise, a weight he carried everywhere. 

Everyone had noticed.

Seokmin had stopped making jokes around him, his usual bright energy dimming into something softer, more careful. Minghao watched him with concerned eyes but didn't push, just stayed close. 

Seungcheol clapped him on the shoulder after practice and told him to take care of himself, voice low and serious in a way that made Mingyu's throat tight.

Even Soonyoung noticed. Soonyoung, who was dense to most things, who could miss social cues from a mile away, who once didn't realize Jun had been mad at him for three days straight. Even he pulled Mingyu aside after a student council meeting and asked if he was okay, brows furrowed with genuine worry.

Mingyu had just nodded and walked away before Soonyoung could see his face crack.

But he wasn't okay. He was barely holding it together.

His breaking point was the cafeteria.

Mingyu walked in with his tray, scanning the room out of habit. His eyes found Wonwoo immediately, like they always did. Wonwoo was sitting at their usual table with Jun and Jihoon, listening to something Jun was saying.

Then Wonwoo looked up.

Their eyes met across the cafeteria.

And Wonwoo stood up. Grabbed his tray. And walked away. Just like that. No hesitation. No backward glance. Like Mingyu was someone to avoid. Someone he couldn't stand to be near.

Mingyu stopped in the middle of the cafeteria, tray trembling slightly in his hands.

Across the room, he could see his friends waving him over. Seokmin was gesturing enthusiastically. Minghao had saved him a seat. They were smiling, trying to pull him back into normalcy.

But Mingyu couldn't do it.

He walked to the nearest trash bin, dumped his entire tray into it, food and all, and walked out of the cafeteria without looking back.

That evening, Mingyu knocked on Wonwoo's dorm door.

Wonwoo's dorm, the one he didn't share with anyone because his roommate had dropped out halfway through last semester.

Mingyu stood there, head down, staring at the scuffed wood of the door. His heart hammered against his ribs so hard it hurt. He'd rehearsed this on the walk over, but now that he was here, every word felt impossible.

The door opened.

Wonwoo stood there, and for a split second, there was a small smile on his face. Like he'd been expecting someone else. Maybe Soonyoung. Maybe Jun. The smile died the moment he saw Mingyu.

"We need to talk," Mingyu said. His voice came out quieter than he meant it to.

Wonwoo's expression shuttered. "About what?"

Mingyu looked up, meeting his eyes. "Are you seriously gonna keep pretending?"

Wonwoo didn't answer. He just stood there, hand still gripping the door, jaw tight.

"Seriously?" Mingyu's voice cracked at the end, and he hated how desperate he sounded. For a long moment, Wonwoo said nothing. Then he stepped aside, pulling the door open wider. 

Mingyu walked past him into the familiar space. He'd been here a thousand times. Knew which floorboard creaked, where Wonwoo kept his extra chargers, how the heater rattled when it first turned on.

But it felt different now. 

They went to Wonwoo's room in silence. Mingyu sat on the edge of the bed, the same spot he always took, and clasped his hands between his knees to keep them from shaking. Wonwoo stayed standing near the desk, arms crossed, putting as much distance between them as the small room would allow.

"What did I do wrong?" Mingyu asked, staring at the floor.

"Nothing."

"Then why are you ignoring me?"

"I'm not–"

"Yes, you are." Mingyu's head snapped up. "You won't talk to me. You won't look at me. You left the cafeteria today the second I walked in."

Wonwoo's jaw clenched. "I've been busy."

"Bullshit." The word came out harsher than Mingyu intended, but he didn't take it back. "You went to Hansol's party. You told me you had to finish a report, and then you went anyway."

"I finished it early."

"And you couldn't tell me that?" Mingyu stood up now, frustration bleeding into his voice. "You couldn't send one text?"

"I didn't think–"

"What? You didn't think I'd notice? You didn't think it would hurt?" Mingyu's hands curled into fists at his sides. "We're supposed to be best friends, Wonwoo. But you've been treating me like I don't exist."

"That's not–"

"Then tell me what's going on! Just–just tell me what I did so I can fix it!" Mingyu's voice broke on the last word, desperation clawing its way up his throat.

Wonwoo let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. "You didn't do anything." He looked away, his knuckles white where they gripped his arms. 

"Then why won't you talk to me?"

"Because I can't!" Wonwoo's voice cracked, louder now, strained. "I can't be around you right now, okay?"

The words hit Mingyu like a slap. "Why not?"

Wonwoo didn't answer. He turned toward his desk, gripping the edge so hard his shoulders were tense.

Mingyu felt something shatter in his chest. "So that's it? You're just going to shut me out and I'm supposed to–what? Just accept it?"

Silence filled the room, heavy and suffocating. Mingyu's throat burned with unsaid words.  Wonwoo let out a long breath. It sounded exhausted. Defeated. "I got a letter."

Mingyu's heart stuttered. "What?"

"A letter." Wonwoo's voice was flat now, almost detached. "From a secret admirer."

The air left Mingyu's lungs all at once. His hands went numb.

"Oh." The word barely made it out. "Really?"

"Yeah." Wonwoo still wasn't looking at him. "Found it in my locker. Couple weeks ago. It was... sweet."

Mingyu tried to laugh. It came out strangled, wrong. "What–uh–what did it say?"

Wonwoo finally turned around. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes… his eyes were sharp, filled with hurt and anger. "You tell me."

Mingyu's stomach dropped. "What?"

Wonwoo didn't say anything. He crossed to his desk, yanked open the drawer, and pulled out a white envelope. The envelope Mingyu had agonized over. The one he'd sealed with shaking hands.

Wonwoo walked toward him, and Mingyu stumbled back a step without meaning to.

"I've known you for twenty-one years, Kim Mingyu."

Wonwoo's voice was low. Dangerous. He stopped right in front of Mingyu, close enough that Mingyu could see the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes were glassy.

"Do you really think–" Wonwoo slammed the letter against Mingyu's chest, palm flat, holding it there. "–I wouldn't recognize your handwriting?"

Mingyu went completely still.

The letter pressed against his sternum, right over his heart, which was beating so hard he thought Wonwoo must be able to feel it through the paper. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Couldn't do anything except stare at Wonwoo's face, at the way his expression had finally cracked open, raw and pained and furious all at once.

"Hyung–" Mingyu's voice came out as barely a whisper.

"Don't." Wonwoo's hand was still pressed against his chest, trembling slightly. "Just–don't."

Mingyu felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. 

"Was it a prank?"

Mingyu's head snapped up. "What?"

"The letter." Wonwoo's voice was hard, but there was something fragile underneath it. "Did you write it for fun? As some kind of joke?"

"No–"

"I didn't expect this from you." Wonwoo's hands clenched at his sides. "Of all people, Mingyu. I didn't think you'd–" His voice cracked. "Was it fun? Writing me a fake letter and watching me actually believe someone could–"

"It wasn't fake."

"Then what was it?" Wonwoo's eyes were glassy now, angry tears threatening to spill. "What was the point? Why would you do this to me?"

Mingyu felt his own eyes burning. His chest was so tight he could barely breathe. "Call the letter whatever you want," he said, voice shaking. "But don't you dare call it fake."

"What else am I supposed to call it?" Wonwoo's voice rose, desperate and wounded. "If it came from you." The words landed like a knife between Mingyu's ribs. He stood there, stunned and hurting, unable to form words.

"It was you." Wonwoo wasn't asking anymore. "Wasn't it? This whole time."

"Yes." Mingyu's voice came out barely above a whisper. "It was me."

"Why?" Wonwoo looked at him like he was trying to understand something incomprehensible. "Why would you–"

"Because I'm in love with you!" The words tore out of Mingyu before he could stop them. "Because I have been for years and I didn't know how to tell you. Because every time I tried to say it to your face, I couldn't breathe. Because you're my best friend and I was terrified of losing you."

Tears were streaming down Mingyu's face now, hot and unstoppable.

"I thought–" His voice broke. "I thought if I wrote it down, if I could just get it out without you knowing it was me, maybe I could finally stop feeling like I was drowning every time you looked at me. Maybe I could go back to being normal around you."

Mingyu wiped at his face roughly, but the tears kept coming.

"And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was a coward. I'm sorry I lied. I'm sorry for all of it." His voice dropped to something raw and broken. "But don't ever–don't you dare call my feelings fake."

The room went silent. Wonwoo stood frozen, staring at him. His expression had shifted into something Mingyu couldn't read. Shock, maybe. Or disbelief.

"So it was true?" Wonwoo's voice came out quiet. Small. There was something fragile in it now, something that sounded almost like hope. "Everything in the letter?"

Mingyu looked up, confused through his tears. "What?"

"Did you mean it?" Wonwoo took a step closer, and Mingyu could see his hands were shaking. "Everything you wrote. Did you mean it?"

"Every word," Mingyu said, voice cracking. "I meant every single word."

Wonwoo's face crumpled.

And then he was moving. He crossed the space between them in two strides, hands coming up to grab Mingyu's face, and kissed him.

Mingyu's brain shut down completely. He stood there, frozen, eyes wide open in shock, not understanding what was happening. His hands hovered uselessly at his sides, not knowing where to go, what to do, because this couldn't be real. This wasn't–this couldn't be–

Wonwoo pulled back just enough to breathe. "Fuck you," he whispered against Mingyu's lips, voice shaking.

"What?" Mingyu stared at him, dazed. "What are you–"

"Fuck you, Kim Mingyu." And Wonwoo kissed him again, harder this time, almost angry.

Mingyu made a broken sound in the back of his throat. His hands finally moved, coming up to grip Wonwoo's waist like he was the only solid thing in the world.

Wonwoo kissed him like he was angry about it. Like he'd been waiting too long and couldn't be gentle anymore. His fingers tangled in Mingyu's hair, tugging slightly, and Mingyu felt his knees go weak.

"I've loved you–" Wonwoo broke the kiss just long enough to get the words out. "I've loved you for so long." Another kiss, desperate and claiming. "Wanted you for so long." His fingers threaded through Mingyu's hair, grounding. "And you couldn't see it. You never saw it."

Mingyu's mind was spinning. "But I thought–I thought you didn't like me back."

Wonwoo looked at him like he'd lost his mind.

Then he shoved Mingyu. Hard.

Mingyu stumbled backward, the backs of his knees hitting the bed, and he fell onto it with a gasp. Before he could process what was happening, Wonwoo was on him, climbing onto the bed and straddling his hips, pinning him down.

"Didn't like you back," Wonwoo repeated, and there was something wild in his eyes now. He leaned down and kissed Mingyu again, biting his lower lip. "I wear your medals around my neck like they're mine."

Mingyu whimpered.

"I wait for you after practice even when I have meetings." Another kiss, slower this time, deeper. "I watch all your games even though I don't know shit about soccer."

"Hyung–" Mingyu tried to speak, but Wonwoo kissed the words right out of his mouth.

"I memorized your schedule so I'd know when to run into you." Wonwoo's hand slid up to grip Mingyu's neck, thumb pressing against his racing pulse. "I bring you banana milk because I know you can't handle spice. I turn down everyone who asks me out because they're not you."

Mingyu stared up at him, eyes wide and shining, lips parted as he tried to catch his breath.

"I skipped a council meeting to watch your debate competition." Wonwoo's voice dropped lower, rough with emotion. "And you thought I didn't like you back?"

"I didn't know," Mingyu whispered. His voice was wrecked. "I didn't–how was I supposed to know?"

"Because I've been in love with you since we were kids, you idiot." Wonwoo's eyes were bright now, tears clinging to his lashes. "I just didn't know how to tell you."

Mingyu let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. He reached up with shaking hands to cup Wonwoo's face. "We're both idiots."

"Yeah." Wonwoo's lips quirked into something almost like a smile. "We really are."

And then he leaned down and kissed Mingyu again.

This time, Mingyu kissed back with everything he had, years of longing and wanting and loving poured into it. His hands slid into Wonwoo's hair, holding him close, and Wonwoo made a low sound in his throat that sent heat flooding through Mingyu's entire body.

They kissed like they were trying to make up for lost time, desperate and messy and perfect.

When they finally broke apart, both gasping for air, Wonwoo stayed hovering above him. His hair was a mess, lips swollen and red, eyes dark and intense as he stared down at Mingyu.

Mingyu looked up at him, breathless and flushed and overwhelmed, and felt like his heart might actually burst.

"I guess I have to try harder," Wonwoo said softly, thumb brushing across Mingyu's jaw. "Since you're so bad at taking hints."

Mingyu laughed, watery and breathless. "Please do."

Wonwoo grinned, sharp and fond and entirely his, and kissed him again.

And again.

And again.

After the laughter died down and the kisses turned softer, slower, they ended up lying side by side on Wonwoo's bed.

Mingyu was on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other tangled with Wonwoo's between them. Wonwoo was curled on his side, facing him, their legs a comfortable tangle under the sheets.

The room was quiet except for their breathing, slowly evening out.

"Can I ask you something?" Wonwoo said softly, thumb tracing circles on the back of Mingyu's hand.

"Anything."

"When did you know? That you..." Wonwoo paused, then smiled. "That you liked me?"

Mingyu turned his head to look at him. "You really want to know?"

"Yeah."

Mingyu was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then his ears went pink. "Remember that day in high school? When we were studying in your room and we ended up wrestling?"

Wonwoo's eyes widened slightly. "The day you pinned me down?"

"Yeah." Mingyu's voice went quieter. "That day. When my hand–when I touched your skin and I just... I couldn't stop thinking about it. About you. That's when I knew it wasn't just–it wasn't innocent anymore."

Wonwoo's breath caught. "That was years ago."

"I know." Mingyu laughed softly, self-deprecating. "I've been gone for you for so long, hyung."

Wonwoo shifted closer, pressing his forehead against Mingyu's shoulder. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I was terrified." Mingyu's fingers tightened around Wonwoo's. "You were my best friend. You are my best friend. And I thought–I thought if I told you, I'd lose you completely."

"You wouldn't have."

"I know that now." Mingyu turned onto his side so they were facing each other, noses almost touching. "What about you? When did you know?"

Wonwoo's lips curved into a small smile. "Honestly? I think I might have had a crush on you since the day you grew taller than me."

Mingyu blinked. "What? That was–that was in middle school."

"I know." Wonwoo's smile widened at Mingyu's shocked expression. "You were so smug about it, remember? Standing straighter just to make me look up at you."

"I wasn't–okay, maybe a little," Mingyu admitted.

"You were adorable." Wonwoo reached up, brushing Mingyu's hair back from his forehead. "All gangly and clumsy and so proud of yourself. And I remember thinking–I remember looking up at you and feeling something shift."

"But you didn't know then?"

"No. I just thought it was weird. That I liked having to look up at you." Wonwoo's voice went softer. "But I didn't realize, not really, until your first soccer game in university."

Mingyu's eyebrows rose. "My first game?"

"Yeah." Wonwoo's eyes went distant, remembering. "You were wearing your uniform, and you looked so… confident. Strong. You were directing the team, calling plays, and everyone was listening to you. And then you scored, and the whole team rushed you, and you were laughing and–"

He paused, meeting Mingyu's eyes again.

"I couldn't look away. I couldn't breathe. And I realized I didn't just admire you or care about you as a friend. I wanted–" Wonwoo's voice cracked slightly. "I wanted to be the one you ran to. The one you celebrated with."

Mingyu's chest felt too full. "Hyung..."

"I've loved you for so long, Mingyu." Wonwoo's eyes were bright. "I just didn't know how to tell you."

"How did I never notice?" Mingyu asked, voice filled with wonder and disbelief.

Wonwoo's lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. "I think we both know that between the two of us, I'm better at keeping my feelings hidden."

Mingyu let out a soft laugh. "That's... yeah. That's fair."

"You wear your heart on your sleeve," Wonwoo said gently. "I just learned how to keep mine closer to my chest."

They lay there in silence for a moment, just holding each other.

"Our moms are going to lose their minds," Mingyu said suddenly.

Wonwoo laughed. "Oh god. They're going to be insufferable."

The next day, Mingyu walked into the cafeteria with Wonwoo beside him.

Actually beside him. Close enough that their shoulders brushed with every step. Close enough that when Wonwoo's hand reached out, fingers barely grazing against Mingyu's, Mingyu didn't hesitate to catch it and lace their fingers together.

Wonwoo glanced up at him, a small smile playing at his lips.

Mingyu grinned back, wide and helpless and so happy he felt like he might float away.

They made their way to the usual table where everyone was already gathered. Seungcheol looked up first. His eyes landed on their joined hands, and his eyebrows shot up. "Oh. Oh."

The table went quiet.

Everyone turned to look.

Seokmin's mouth dropped open. Minghao's phone screen went dark as he forgot what he was doing. Jun sat up, suddenly very awake. Soonyoung made a noise like a tea kettle. Jihoon paused mid-chew.

"Finally," Minghao said, breaking the silence. He looked at Mingyu with the most unimpressed expression. "Do you know how painful it's been watching you pine for literal years?"

"Years?" Wonwoo looked at Mingyu, surprised.

Mingyu's face went red. "Shut up, Hao."

"No, seriously." Seokmin leaned forward, eyes bright. "We had a betting pool on how long it would take."

"You what?" Mingyu stared at him.

"A betting pool," Jun confirmed, now fully awake and grinning. "I said end of semester. Hao said never because you're both emotionally constipated."

"I didn't say never," Minghao corrected. "I said 'after graduation, maybe.'"

Wonwoo laughed, and the sound made Mingyu's chest warm. "Who won?"

"Jihoon," Seungcheol said, nodding toward him. "He said within the month."

Jihoon swallowed his food and shrugged. "I saw him put the letter in your locker."

Mingyu nearly choked on air. "What? When?"

"Two weeks ago. Early morning." Jihoon said it so casually, like it was obvious. "You were being weird and suspicious about it. Wasn't hard to figure out what was happening."

"And you didn't say anything?" Wonwoo asked, amused.

"Not my business." Jihoon took another bite. "But I knew you'd figure it out eventually."

"Wait," Seokmin said, eyes wide with curiosity. "How did you figure out it was Mingyu? He probably didn’t have the guts to sign his own name on it."

Wonwoo glanced at Mingyu, lips twitching. "His handwriting."

There was a beat of silence.

Then Soonyoung burst out laughing. "His handwriting? You wrote an anonymous love letter in your own handwriting?"

Mingyu's face went impossibly redder. "I–I didn't think–"

"You've known each other for years," Minghao said, voice dripping with disbelief. "You've done homework together. Projects. Studied together. And you didn't think he'd recognize your handwriting?"

"I was panicking, okay!" Mingyu said defensively.

Jun was shaking with silent laughter. "Oh my god. That's–that's actually incredible."

"What were you even thinking?" Seungcheol asked, grinning.

"I wasn't!" Mingyu buried his face in his free hand. "I just–I wanted to tell him and I thought if I pretended to be someone else–"

"In your own handwriting," Wonwoo added helpfully, barely containing his smile.

"Yes, thank you, I get it!" Mingyu groaned.

Seokmin was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes. "This is the best thing I've ever heard."

"How did you think this would work?" Minghao asked, genuinely curious. "Like, what was the end goal?"

"I don't know! I just–" Mingyu looked at Wonwoo helplessly. "Help me out here."

"No, I'm enjoying this," Wonwoo said, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"I hate all of you," Mingyu said, but there was no heat in it.

"No you don't," Seokmin said, grinning.

"No," Mingyu admitted, looking at Wonwoo. "I really don't."