Chapter Text
They leave the restaurant still half-laughing, the warmth of the meal lingering between them. “I’m serious. Ghosts are real.” Jiseok walks backward for a few steps, hands slicing the air as if he’s drawing diagrams only he can see. His voice carries a mix of conviction and mischief, the kind that makes Taesan want to roll his eyes while smiling.
“Based on what,” Taesan asks, tilting his head slightly, watching the exaggerated flare of Jiseok’s expression.
“Vibes.” Jiseok points emphatically in every direction, leaning forward just enough that the tips of his fingers almost graze the evening air, as if the world itself is proof.
“That’s not evidence.” Taesan shakes his head, voice teasing, lips tugged into a small smile despite himself. He notices the way Jiseok’s shoulders tense with mock indignation, how his eyes sparkle when he’s half-serious, half-performing.
“You don’t believe in vibes?” Jiseok counters, stepping closer, hands still moving like he’s conducting an orchestra only he can hear.
“I believe in physics.” Taesan’s tone is flat, though the corner of his mouth lifts ever so slightly.
Jiseok gasps, throwing a hand to his chest in dramatic protest, hair falling just slightly over his forehead with the movement. “You’re the worst type of person.”
“Watch where you’re going,” Taesan mutters, his eyes narrowing slightly as he notices the uneven pavement.
“I am—”
Jiseok’s foot catches a crack in the concrete, and he stumbles forward for just a fraction of a second. Instinctively, Taesan reaches out, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt without thinking.
Jiseok rights himself, chest rising and falling from the sudden jolt, and then his gaze drops to Taesan’s hand still clinging to him. There’s a flicker in his eyes, curiosity or something softer, Taesan can’t tell. “…You care about my survival,” he says, his voice quiet, almost teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of something genuine.
Taesan shrugs, finally letting go, his fingers brushing against Jiseok’s sleeve as he pulls back. “Bare minimum,” he says in his casual tone, even though his chest still feels a little tight from the close contact.
Jiseok straightens, adjusting his bag over his shoulder, a small smirk tugging at his lips, but the moment lingers longer than either of them lets on. They turn the corner toward the dorm blocks, laughter spilling from them in quiet bursts, feet crunching softly against the pavement. Jiseok continues jabbering, gesturing at the empty street as if the world were his audience, while Taesan keeps pace beside him, eyes catching every motion.
Taesan slows, letting his steps falter just slightly. “I’m heading here.”
Jiseok looks up at the building, eyebrows furrowing as if trying to calculate something impossible from the number of floors. “Why?”
“I live here.” Taesan keeps his voice casual, though there’s a small pause, a hesitation he doesn’t acknowledge.
Jiseok stops walking mid-step, head tilting back to stare at the building. “…Shut up.”
Taesan blinks, confused, tilting his own head slightly. “What?”
“This is my block.” Jiseok’s tone is flat, almost wounded, but the corners of his mouth twitch like he’s holding back something like laughter or irritation?
There’s a beat of silence. Both of them just stand there, looking up at the building like it’s some kind of audacious intruder. Taesan shifts his weight from one foot to the other, letting the quiet stretch.
“What floor?” Jiseok asks finally, voice softer now, like testing for hidden traps.
“Six.” Taesan says it plainly, though he notices Jiseok’s eyes narrow, scanning him as if committing every detail to memory.
Jiseok stares at him, expression unreadable, before finally blurting, “I’m eight.”
Another pause. A breath.
“Oh.”
“Oh.”
They stay still for a second, the air hanging between them, thick with unspoken amusement and mild disbelief. Then Jiseok squints at him, head tilted slightly, as if trying to decide whether to scowl or grin. “Wait.”
Taesan exhales lightly, shoulders shifting as he slows in his steps. “What now…”
“The lobby.” Jiseok glances upward at the building, then back at Taesan, hands loose at his sides but restless, fidgeting just slightly.
Taesan tilts his head, curious.
“Last two weeks. We bumped into each other. I almost dropped my fried chicken.” Jiseok’s voice carries that half-exasperated and half-amused edge. His eyes crinkle slightly at the corners. “You looked like you’d just seen a ghost.”
Taesan exhales softly. “You ran into me.”
“You weren’t watching where you’re going.” Jiseok steps closer, nudging lightly with his shoulder.
“You were too indulged in your own thoughts,” Taesan counters, brushing a hand through his hair.
“I was hungry.” Jiseok shrugs, as casual as if that explains everything.
They lapse into a quiet, easy silence, the sounds of the street folding around them. Jiseok’s voice drops just a fraction, more honest than teasing. “I remember thinking… that guy’s having a really bad day.”
Taesan glances at him, eyebrows slightly raised.
Taesan shrugs. “I was fine.”
“You were not fine.” The words are gentle but firm, carrying a weight that makes Taesan pause.
He doesn’t answer.
Jiseok’s smile softens, warm but restrained, as if he’s trying not to push too hard. “If it weren’t for that day, we wouldn’t know each other. Good thing I bumped into you then.”
Taesan is caught off guard, feeling the sincerity in Jiseok’s tone. Then Jiseok straightens abruptly, brushing imaginary dust from his shoulders. “Anyway. Same building. This is crazy.” His grin returns, more playful now, but the warmth lingers in his eyes.
“It’s not crazy.” Taesan objects, shoulders lifting slightly in a shrug as he glances toward Jiseok, trying to sound casual.
“It’s at least mildly supernatural.” Jiseok grins, hands shoved loosely into his pockets, eyes dancing with mischief.
“It’s not ghosts.” Taesan counters, stepping forward a few paces, trying to keep his tone steady.
“You don’t know that.” Jiseok’s gaze flickers toward the ceiling, then back at Taesan, fingers drumming lightly against the elevator rail as if punctuating his point.
They walk into the lobby together, feet echoing softly against the polished floor. The elevator hums open, its doors sliding with a soft metallic sigh. Inside, Jiseok leans back slightly, pressing 8, his shoulders relaxed but posture precise. Taesan follows, pressing 6, standing a few steps away, hands loosely folded in front of him. The elevator doors begin to close, and Jiseok glances sideways, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“You know what’s funny?” he asks, leaning slightly toward Taesan, resting a shoulder against the wall for support, fingers brushing lightly along the metal panel.
“What?” Curiosity flickering across Taesan’s expression.
“If ghosts are real, this building definitely has some.” Jiseok’s grin widens, eyes glinting with playful exaggeration, as though the thought is both terrifying and thrilling.
Taesan exhales, a soft, amused sigh, and his lips twitch into a small smile.
“And if it does,” Jiseok continues, letting his voice drop just slightly, eyes locking onto Taesan’s, “at least I know someone on the sixth floor who’ll probably fight them for me.” He gestures subtly with one hand, thumb pointing vaguely behind him, as if Taesan is already signed up for this imaginary battle.
Taesan shakes his head, the faintest laugh escaping him, lips pressing together as he smiles. “I’m not fighting ghosts.” He steps toward the elevator doors, hands brushing lightly against the metal for balance.
Jiseok grins, eyes lighting up, a small playful nudge of his shoulder toward Taesan as if daring him to reconsider. “Sure you’re not! Goodnight, neighbour.”
Just before the doors slide fully shut, Jiseok lifts a hand in a small, casual wave, fingertips brushing the edge of the frame, a fleeting gesture that somehow feels larger than it is.
Taesan hesitates for half a second, toes pivoting slightly, then lifts his hand in return, a soft, almost reluctant wave. “…Goodnight.” The doors close, leaving the echo of movement and laughter behind, the quiet hum of the elevator continuing as they head to separate floors.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Taesan steps into his dorm, shoulders relaxing slightly as he shuts the door behind him. The memory of Jiseok laughing at the plaza curls warmly in his chest. He pauses in the doorway, taking in the scene. Jaehyun and Woonhak are sprawled across his bed, limbs draped in exaggerated disarray, snack wrappers scattered around them like confetti. Woonhak holds a chip high between two fingers, waving it for emphasis. “…and I’m telling you, sour cream beats barbecue any day!” His voice is loud, theatrical, demanding attention.
Jaehyun is mid-chew, eyes wide as he nods vigorously, crumbs clinging to his lips. “No way, bro, that’s sacrilege!”
Taesan freezes, fingers twitching as if to grab a wrapper or point out the mess, ready to reclaim his personal space. His legs shift slightly, weight rocking on one foot, but then the corners of his mouth tug upward. The tension in his shoulders eases. He’s too… too lighthearted to be annoyed, the faint smile spreading despite himself.
Jaehyun, ever perceptive, finally notices. He stops chewing mid-sentence, brow arching, eyes locking on Taesan’s subtle grin. “…Wait. Hold up. You’re smiling,” he says, voice half-joking, half-incredulous. He leans forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, waiting for an explanation. “Why are you smiling?”
Taesan glances at him, lets out a small exhale, tilting his head just enough to avoid answering directly, lips pressing together as the warmth of the memory lingers. He shrugs nonchalantly, fingers brushing against his mouth as if to hide the grin tugging at his lips. “I… I just remembered something funny,” he mutters, voice low.
Jaehyun leans forward, eyebrows knitting together, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “Hmm… funny, huh? What happened to make you smile like that?!” He jabs a finger toward Taesan, leaning just enough to intrude into his space, voice teasing but insistent.
Woonhak snickers, shoulders shaking as he rocks back on the bed, clearly enjoying the spectacle. Taesan rolls his eyes, letting out a soft exhale, though he can’t stop the warmth spreading through his chest, a light hum under his ribs that refuses to be hidden. The wrappers crinkle under Woonhak’s restless movements, a subtle soundtrack to their teasing. Woonhak suddenly perks up, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he folds his arms over his chest, tilting his head toward Taesan. “Hey, you know why Taesan probably got back home late today?”
Jaehyun freezes mid-bite, lips parting slightly, his eyes sharp with curiosity. “Oh? Do tell, wise one.”
Woonhak leans back on the bed, smirking as he props himself on one elbow, the other hand gesturing vaguely toward Taesan. “He was probably watching Riptide Riot. You know, their usual Friday gig. I’ve followed him twice before; it’s kind of… a thing.”
Taesan’s shoulders twitch in a small, almost imperceptible shrug, a quiet smile lingering as his gaze flickers toward the floor for a brief moment, caught between amusement and something softer he doesn’t want to admit aloud.
Jaehyun blinks, leaning back slightly as he processes the information. “Wait—so you’re saying our grumpy teammate stalks a band on Friday nights?” His tone is teasing, but there’s a flicker of genuine surprise in his expression.
Woonhak shrugs casually, one shoulder rising as he leans forward onto his hands, resting on the edge of the bed. “Well! Not stalks… well, maybe a little. But remember a few weeks ago? At their show? He had that panic attack.” His voice softens slightly at the memory, eyes flicking toward Taesan as if checking him for signs of discomfort.
Jaehyun’s eyes widen, a hand rising to scratch at the back of his neck. “Ohh… right. That poor guy.”
Woonhak nods, leaning a little closer toward Taesan without him noticing, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “But hey… are you okay though?”
Taesan doesn’t look up, fingers swiping over his phone screen with deliberate calm, that soft smile tugging faintly at the corners of his lips. His posture is relaxed, shoulders slightly slouched, but there’s a quiet warmth in the way he holds himself.
Woonhak glances at Jaehyun, a knowing grin spreading across his face. He leans back on the bed just enough to whisper, “Looks like he’s doing better than okay now.”
Jaehyun’s gaze sharpens, mischief creeping into the edges of his eyes, lips curling. “Did… you meet Jiseok?”
Taesan freezes mid-scroll, phone hovering in his hand. A blush creeps over his cheeks, and he coughs softly, tilting his head down to hide it. “W-what? N-no, I didn’t…” His fingers fidget briefly around the edge of the phone, betraying the calm he’s trying to project.
Jaehyun raises an eyebrow, leaning forward with a teasing smirk that doesn’t quite reach disbelief. Woonhak snickers beside him, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter, clearly reveling in the small, chaotic spectacle Taesan is creating without even realizing it. Taesan huffed, tugging at the hem of his shirt as he tried, and failed, to hide the flustered smile creeping up despite himself. Jaehyun and Woonhak weren’t making it easy, crunching loudly on chips and laughing every time his cheeks colored, nudging and jostling him like a persistent storm.
“C’mon, tell us!” Jaehyun prodded, elbowing him lightly.
“Yeahhh, don’t act all mysterious!” Woonhak added, shoving another handful of snacks into his mouth, chewing with exaggerated enjoyment.
Taesan crossed his arms, exhaling sharply, trying to reclaim control. “Ughhh, you two are impossible…” he muttered, the corners of his mouth still betraying him, until he forced it back into neutral.
Then, with a sudden stomp of his foot, he flicked lightly toward them, enough to startle and make them flinch. “Get out! Both of you! What are you even doing in my room, ugghhhh!” he snapped, hands running through his hair in mock exasperation.
Jaehyun and Woonhak collapsed into uncontrollable laughter, tumbling back against the bed, while Taesan pressed a hand to his forehead, fully sinking into his sulky, grumpy persona. But somewhere beneath it, that stubborn grin lingered, refusing to disappear completely.
He sank onto the edge of his bed, exhaling sharply, letting his shoulders slump as the weight of the day finally eased a little. And then— ping! Taesan picked up his phone, eyebrows rising at the notification. A new message. From Jiseok. He tapped it open.
jeezeok 🐥🎸
beware of the ghost in the elevator… it only likes tall people... hehehe…
Taesan blinked at the screen, his mouth parting slightly in disbelief. What. The. Hell. He shook his head, chuckling softly, scrolling back up to make sure he wasn’t imagining it.
giantmountain 🏔️☘️
…excuse me? why are you telling me this now?
He typed carefully, tilting his head as he muttered the words under his breath.
jeezeok 🐥🎸
thats just some important info! can’t risk you getting caught off guard
Taesan snorted quietly, shoulders relaxing further. He typed back, fingers hovering briefly before pressing send:
giantmountain 🏔️☘️
of course. thanks for the warning, jiseok
Even as he set the phone down, a smile tugged stubbornly at his lips. Behind him, Jaehyun and Woonhak had crept closer, peeking over his shoulder, snickering at the absurdity of the exchange. Taesan shook his head again, amused.
Taesan stared at the screen for a few seconds, lips twitching into a small smirk. He knew Jiseok was trying way too hard to be mysterious and ‘cool’, but somehow it was working, just enough to make him amused, maybe a little flustered. He leaned back slightly against the headboard, thumbs hovering over the phone before typing.
jeezeok 🐥🎸
you know… i’m warning you because ghosts have a thing for tall people with cute smiles
Taesan’s phone nearly slipped from his hands. Cute. Really….? That was… cute. He shook his head lightly, chuckling under his breath, before typing back, fingers flying a little faster than usual:
giantmountain 🏔️☘️
oh really? guess i’ll have to hide my smile then…
wouldn’t want to attract any spirits
Behind him, Jaehyun let out a low whistle, leaning against the wall with exaggerated interest. “Oooohhh… Taesan is getting texted by Mystery Ghost Boy, huh?”
Woonhak snorted, plopping down on the edge of the bed and stuffing another chip into his mouth. “Look at his face! He’s… smiling… wait, what?!”
Taesan froze, gripping the phone tightly for half a second, then slammed it down on the bed with a huff. “Oh! My! Goodness! You two are insufferable, I swear! Get out!”
Jaehyun and Woonhak doubled over in laughter, staggering backward as Taesan rubbed his temple, muttering under his breath, his cheeks warm. Even as he scowled, the corners of his lips betrayed him, twitching upward in spite of himself.
Once the door clicked shut behind them, Taesan picked up his phone again, fingers hovering for a moment before tapping out a reply.
giantmountain 🏔️☘️
also… if a ghost actually shows up, you’re dealing with it first.
i’m not losing to a spirit
Taesan didn’t even notice how long he’d been sitting there, phone balanced precariously on his knees, until the familiar ping came. He snorted softly when he read it. True to form, it was entirely what he’d expected: cheerful, slightly ridiculous, and entirely out of pocket.
jeezeok 🐥🎸
deal. but if it’s scary, i’m holding your hand.
you’d better not be imagining you holding my hand if a ghost shows up
i’ll probably scream louder than you
Taesan leaned back further, curling one leg beneath him, and shook his head, smiling.
giantmountain 🏔️☘️
of course you would
but i’ll make sure everyone knows you’re brave first
He hesitated, thumb hovering over the keyboard, deleted the words, then typed again, more carefully:
giantmountain 🏔️☘️
anyway… thanks for warning me
i’ll keep an eye out for any tall-people-loving ghosts
The quiet glow of the screen illuminated his face as he set the phone aside, chest still light with that odd, fluttering warmth. The room felt soft around him, Taesan allowed himself to linger in the small, silly moment without worrying about anything else.
Almost immediately, the reply pinged.
jeezeok 🐥🎸
good
and if a ghost actually dares, i’ll punch it for you
but only because i like you
Taesan froze mid-breath. His fingers stilled on the edge of the phone, his brain short-circuiting for a half-second. Wait. Did he just—? He shook his head quickly, as if that could erase the words, cheeks burning before a laugh escaped him, low and breathless. “Yeah, right…” he muttered, but the smile stayed, stubborn, tugging at the corners of his lips.
Every time Jiseok sent one of these ridiculous, out-of-nowhere messages, he realized he couldn’t help but wait for the next one. Every single time. And with each ping, it grew a little harder to pretend that he wasn’t thinking about him, that he wasn’t leaning into the warmth his words brought.
And that was terrifying.
Because this wasn’t just fun anymore. This wasn’t just playful teasing or a silly text exchange. This was… distracting. This was… Jiseok. The thought alone made his chest tighten in a way that was equal parts thrilling and alarming.
Taesan glanced down at his phone again, but the screen was empty. No new message. It didn’t matter. He didn’t need one. The memory of Jiseok’s energy, the way he said ridiculous things with perfect seriousness, the way he made even mundane words feel like a joke and a compliment at the same time, the way his laughter could fill the room without being there…. was enough.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Taesan’s footsteps echoed softly against the near-empty campus paths, the evening Thursday sun warming his shoulders but not forcing him to squint. He hadn’t planned to go anywhere in particular, yet somehow, his steps carried him toward the plaza and the studio tucked between the buildings. It had been a long week. Lectures and tons of assignments, he thinks that walking aimlessly felt like the only way to untangle himself from it all.
He crouched near a quiet corner to retie a stubborn shoelace, the laces stubborn and fraying at the ends. When he straightened, his eyes caught the familiar lines of the studio building: glass reflecting the late morning light, a poster for a past Riptide Riot performance still taped crookedly to the door. His chest gave a quiet, unintentional flutter.
The door swung open just then, and there he was. Jiseok stepped out, a guitar case slung casually over one shoulder, earbuds dangling around his neck like they were part of him. He moved with an ease and when his gaze flicked briefly toward Taesan, there was a small lift of his brow, subtle but enough to make Taesan’s heart jumped. The sun caught the edges of Jiseok’s hair, turning it to gold. Taesan froze for a fraction of a second, not from surprise but because it felt strangely coincidental. A little flutter tickled his chest, a warmth he hadn’t been expecting today. He bent slightly, tucking the loose laces back into his sneakers, trying to act absorbed in the motion, but his fingers fumbled slightly, betraying the calm he wanted to show.
“Oh!” Jiseok’s voice cut through the quiet, carrying a note of surprise. “Hey, Taesan!” He tilted his head slightly, one shoulder lifting as he shifted the guitar case on his back, the movement loose but precise, like he wasn’t quite sure whether to step closer or hang back.
“Hey,” Taesan said, almost automatically. The word slipped out. He tried to look indifferent, but the shock on his face, the slight narrowing of his eyes, betrayed a faint amusement.
Jiseok’s gaze lingered for a beat, light catching in his eyes, flicking briefly to Taesan’s hands as they finished tucking in the laces. He smiled softly, not saying anything yet, as though remembering all the small, silly messages they’d shared in the past week. The black cat pictures he’d sent with “that’s you” scribbled under each one, the tiny trinkets Taesan had photographed and sent back, captions teasing but affectionate. That small familiarity hung between them, folding the moment into something almost intimate without a word being needed.
“You’re out for a walk?” Jiseok asked, leaning lightly against the doorframe, one foot crossed casually over the other. The guitar case rested against his side, straps hanging loose, but the way he balanced it looked effortless.
“Yeah… something like that,” Taesan replied, fingers brushing absently against the pocket of his jogging pants. “Exercise, clear my head… nothing special.” He tried to downplay it, eyes flicking briefly to the ground before catching Jiseok’s gaze, the honesty lingering in the silence between the words.
Jiseok’s grin was soft. He tilted his head behind slightly, one hand gesturing toward the door as if to indicate his studio but staying in place, letting the moment stretch. “Nice timing, then. I was just leaving the studio. Hey, do you want to… walk a bit together? Or am I intruding?” His voice carried that balance between casual and genuine consideration.
Taesan’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile, a small exhale escaping him as he straightened just a fraction. “Sure, why not?”
Their footsteps echoed softly against the paved campus path, the sound mingling with the distant hum of late afternoon activity. Taesan’s hands stayed buried deep in his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched, yet with every step he felt a little more at ease, the tension from the week easing off in measured increments. Jiseok, in contrast, moved with that natural energy that seemed to radiate from him effortlessly.
“So…” Jiseok began, glancing sideways at Taesan with that mischievous, teasing grin. His eyes flicked to the plaza in the distance, then back, as if weighing how serious he wanted to sound. “You’re really consistent with these weekend evening walks, huh? Or… are you just stalking the plaza like some secret fan?”
Taesan blinked, lips pressing together in mock indignation. He frowned slightly, though the corner of his mouth betrayed a twitching smile he couldn’t quite hide. “Secret fan? Pfft. Me? Nah…” He tapped his chest with exaggerated seriousness, eyes glancing sidelong at Jiseok, daring him to doubt it. “Totally professional. Very objective.”
Jiseok chuckled, he nudged Taesan lightly with his shoulder, walking in sync with him now, like their pace had been measured to match each other without thinking. “Uh-huh. Totally believable. I swear, every time we perform, you somehow end up near the plaza. It’s uncanny.” His grin widened, eyes sparkling as he watched Taesan’s subtle reaction, leaning into the playful observation just enough to make the moment feel personal.
Taesan rolled his eyes, though a quiet laugh escaped him despite himself. “Coincidence. Pure coincidence.” His fingers fidgeted slightly in his pockets as he walked, the edges of the words are half-hearted, but the warmth in his chest lingering from Jiseok’s teasing.
There was a pause, before Jiseok’s tone shifted, just a touch more serious. He glanced down at the pavement, the corner of his mouth lifting faintly as he weighed how much to say. “Ah, by the way… just so you know, we won’t be at the plaza tomorrow.” His steps slowed for a beat, letting the words hang between them. “We’ve been invited to perform at some… special event outside campus. Only certain people are allowed to watch.”
Taesan froze mid-step, the words catching him in an unexpected pause. “Oh…” His voice was quiet, almost swallowed by the ambient hum of the campus, caught somewhere between curiosity and disappointment. His hands twitched lightly at his sides.
Jiseok noticed the pause and offered a small, soft grin, though his eyes didn’t quite meet Taesan’s. “Yeah… it’s kind of a big deal. Alumni, faculty, and some sponsors. We can’t just do our usual casual gig. But hey… it’s still exciting, right?” He gestured vaguely with his free hand, as if scattering away the heaviness of the news.
Taesan nodded slowly, shoulders slumping as the weight settled in. “Yeah… exciting.” The words were steady, but inside, a small pang twisted in his chest. He had been looking forward to the plaza, to watching Jiseok move freely on stage, animated and careless, caught up in the music. Now the thought of tomorrow… it pressed quietly at his anticipation, making the simple act of walking feel slightly heavier than it should.
Noticing the faint slump in Taesan’s shoulders, Jiseok leaned slightly closer, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Don’t sulk! I’ll send you a report, okay? A full, detailed, dramatic play-by-play of our performance. You’ll practically be front-row, from your dorm or wherever you end up.” He punctuated the words with a little wave of his hand.
Taesan blinked, momentarily caught off guard. His fingers flexed briefly inside his pockets, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips before he shook his head lightly. “Fine… I’ll hold you to that.” They continued walking. The sun dipped lower, painting long, lazy shadows across the ground. Every so often, their arms brushed lightly, a touch so fleeting it might have gone unnoticed, but it sent a small spark through Taesan that he stubbornly ignored.
Jiseok’s grin lingered just a little too knowingly, eyes crinkling at the edges as if he enjoyed the quiet reaction he elicited. Taesan’s chest thumped in quiet rebellion, heart picking up its own rhythm as they walked side by side. Neither mentioned the brush of skin, the subtle shift in the evening air, or the warmth that seemed to pulse quietly between them. And yet, in that understated exchange, something unspoken lingered just beneath the surface.
As they rounded a quiet corner near the old science building, Jiseok’s eyes brightened, catching the fading sunlight like a spotlight. “Oh! Look at that tree. Doesn’t it kind of… look like it’s reaching for the sky in a dramatic movie scene?” He leaned slightly forward, hands gesturing toward the twisting branches as if he could physically pull the scene into view.
Taesan squinted through the late evening light. “Uh… sure? Maybe if it’s a very slow-motion scene with sad violin music.” He teased lightly, but couldn’t help sneaking a glance at Jiseok’s animated expression. The way his fingers twitched in the air and the corners of his mouth lifted made Taesan’s chest tighten.
“Exactly!” Jiseok exclaimed, spinning lightly on his heel to gesture at the tree from a new angle. “You need to add music. I swear, every tree is secretly a stage performer waiting for a spotlight.” His voice carried a conspiratorial excitement even the way he bounced on his heels made it impossible for Taesan not to smile.
Taesan laughed, shaking his head. “Only you would anthropomorphize a tree like that.” He brushed a stray strand of hair from his forehead, glancing down the path as Jiseok’s gaze lingered on the branches, lingering just a little longer than necessary, like he wanted Taesan to see the world through his eyes.
Jiseok paused mid-step, pointing dramatically toward a stray black cat slinking across the path, tail high and twitching. “Speaking of performers… Taesan, beware of the lone shadowy figure! Could be plotting world domination!” He crouched slightly, hands hovering as if ready to defend, and his eyes gleamed with mock seriousness.
Taesan blinked and followed his gesture. “…Wait… is that… a cat?” He tilted his head, squinting at the sleek shape weaving through the shadows. Jiseok nodded gravely, lips pressed together in faux intensity. “Yes. Definitely evil and I bet he’s plotting something... Just like the ones I send you pictures of. You should probably watch your back.” He stepped lightly to the side, mimicking the cat’s silent, measured movements with his hands.
Taesan rolled his eyes again, but unable to hide the grin spreading across his face. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself. I’m sure a tiny black cat is a much bigger threat than you ever could be.” He leaned back slightly against a nearby lamppost, crossing his arms loosely, watching Jiseok mimic the cat’s stealthy walk down the path, and felt a quiet warmth from the ridiculous energy Jiseok always carried with him.
Jiseok laughed, the sound light and airy, bouncing softly across the empty quad. He tossed his guitar case strap over one shoulder and gestured vaguely at himself. “Tch, you wound me! I’m more terrifying than any cat, thank you very much! I’m more cunning and very, very dangerous.”
Taesan raised a brow, his lips twitching. “Mm-hm, sure, very dangerous. Like a… slightly clumsy small ninja?” He nudged Jiseok lightly with his shoulder as he passed, smirking despite himself.
Jiseok gasped, stepping back just slightly, one hand pressed over his chest in mock indignation while the other waved dramatically toward the sky. “How dare you! I will have you know I am a graceful, menacing shadow in the night!” His eyes shone mischievously as he spun a half-circle, balancing on the balls of his feet like a performer striking a pose.
As they approached the dorm block, their shoulders brushed lightly. Taesan’s fingers absentmindedly grazed the strap of his bag, tugging at it slightly, while Jiseok’s hand twitched at his side, poised as if he wanted to reach out but stopped himself, settling instead for a small, teasing smile. “You know,” Jiseok said, his tone softer than usual, almost hesitant, “I’m really glad you decided to walk this way. Random coincidences, huh?” His gaze flicked toward Taesan for just a second, as if he was trying to read the quiet rhythm between them.
Taesan’s eyes narrowed, a spark of playfulness dancing in their depths, though his lips curved in a subtle, reluctant smile. “Totally random,” he said lightly, though the warmth in his chest betrayed the lie. They arrived in front of the lobby’s elevator, the soft hum of the building filling the quiet between them. Jiseok pressed the button for the upper floors just as Taesan’s hand reached for it too. Their fingers brushed, enough to make both pause for the briefest moment. Jiseok felt a strange comfort in that contact, a pull he didn’t want to admit, and for a heartbeat, he didn’t pull away.
“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice carrying more weight than usual, though he kept the tone casual. His chest felt tight, as though that simple touch had shifted something inside him. Tomorrow loomed in his thoughts. It is actually the date he usually visits his father’s grave with the members. He was supposed to be spending that day with a quiet, ritualistic, and a pocket of familiarity in his life. But tomorrow also meant the performance: special, rare, and just… impossible for Riptide Riot to miss. Jiseok’s fingers clenched a little tighter around the strap of his guitar bag, grounding himself in the ordinary while his mind flickered elsewhere.
Taesan didn’t comment on the subtle heaviness in his voice. He didn’t ask. And Jiseok appreciated that more than he could admit. He forced a small nod and a smile, careful to keep their exchange light. The elevator arrived, and Jiseok stepped in, acutely aware of Taesan beside him. Their hands brushed again. On impulse, he held Taesan’s fingers just a moment longer than necessary, letting the warmth linger without a word.
He pressed the button for his floor, forcing his attention onto the low hum of the elevator, the faint scent of Taesan’s windbreaker, the soft padding of their steps in the enclosed space. In that small, wordless moment, the world outside the elevator faded, leaving only the warmth of fingers intertwined and the subtle understanding between them.
The elevator dinged, doors sliding open. Neither spoke as Taesan stepped out, the quiet hum of the hallway filling the space between them, a soft pulse that somehow made every small movement feel amplified. “Well, see you next week then,” Taesan said casually, glancing up at him with that faint smile that seemed to linger in Jiseok’s chest longer than it should.
“Yeah,” Jiseok replied steadily, even as the edges of his mind buzzed with the things he wasn’t ready to voice. His fingers itched as if still holding onto Taesan’s warmth, though his hands rested loosely at his sides.
Taesan waved lightly and turned down the hall. Jiseok’s gaze lingered for a heartbeat longer than necessary, following the subtle swing of the rhythm of Taesan’s steps, before the elevator doors slid shut.
The space felt emptier once Taesan walked away, every echo of their contact stretched in his chest. And yet… there's a stubborn residue of presence that refused to fade. Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, he knew tomorrow wouldn’t be as simple.