Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gunwook was the type of guy who thrived in a crowd. 

Strangers were just friends he hadn't met yet; every introduction was a new adventure. Or at least that’s how it’s been for the past 20 years of his life. Meeting new people for the first time had never scared him. In fact, he loved it. So why was he hesitating now, with his hand raised to knock on the door of his new apartment?

He isn’t scared . Not at all. It’s just…

Doubt, because this past year has twisted his confidence into knots. Being around people is what Gunwook loves most, feeding off the energy of friends and family alike. Last year, during his freshman year, he could work in a room like nobody’s business. But that was before he transferred, before he landed here , at the school he used to call his rival.

Switching to this college, joining the basketball team he used to play against — none of it was part of his plan. But as things occur, sometimes he has to just follow the flow, and the tide has now brought him here…reluctant to knock on a damn door . 

“Fuck it,” he mutters under his breath, his nerves sparking a fire in his chest. His knuckles finally rap against the wood, the sound echoing too loudly in the quiet hall. Gunwook winces, clutching the straps of his backpack.

It takes more than a minute before the door flies open, giving Gunwook such a start that he flinches. In the doorway stands a man nearly as tall as himself, wearing a look of surprise as if he wasn't expecting anyone.

Gunwook quickly checks the apartment number, then recalls Zhang Hao's picture from their conversation on Facebook. Yes, that’s definitely him.

“Um,” Zhang Hao starts, looking timid as Gunwook continues to stand there without a word. “Hi?” 

“Zhang Hao-ssi?” Gunwook asks, hoping Zhang Hao remembers their arrangement about moving in around this time.

Gunwook internally sighs. It's been a long morning of travel for Gunwook. The entire day has been hectic, much like the past year, and all he wants now is to collapse into his new bed and sleep.

And already, someone is trying to make it difficult for him. 

“That’s me,” Zhang Hao nods, then his face flickers with recognition. “Oh! Park Gunwook?” 

“Yes,” he replies, a bit sharply. Seeing Zhang Hao’s face fall slightly at his tone, Gunwook quickly softens. He can’t afford to start off on the wrong foot with his new roommate, at least not his new roommate. “I mean, yeah. It’s nice to meet you, Zhang Hao-ssi.”

Zhang Hao bows his head in greeting, “Of course. Nice to meet you! Sorry, I completely forgot you were coming at this time. For some reason, I thought you’d be here later,” he chuckles, a shy smile lighting up his face. “But, come in! Come in!”

Gunwook inhales heavily, bracing himself as he crosses the threshold into what will be his home for the next year. The door swings open to reveal a living area bathed in the soft glow of afternoon sunlight filtering through sheer curtains. Surprisingly, the place is tidy and welcoming, with a small array of potted plants adding a touch of greenery to the neat layout.

“I’m sorry it’s a little messy,” Zhang Hao says, scratching the back of his neck as he helps Gunwook with some of his bags.

Gunwook sputters, “Messy? Zhang Hao-ssi, this is probably the cleanest apartment with college boys I’ve ever seen…” The truth of his words rings loudly in his own ears, especially when flashes of his cluttered, cramped dorm room from last year send shivers down his spine.

Zhang Hao smiles, clearly relieved by Gunwook’s reaction. “Oh well, I’m glad,” he replies warmly. “The rest of your stuff will be here tomorrow, right?”

Gunwook hums, his eyes scanning the clean, thoughtfully arranged space that contrasts sharply with his previous abodes. He's about to confirm Zhang Hao's question when the sound of shuffling feet echoes from the hallway. A figure appears, clad in bright blue pajamas, his hair tousled and eyes still clouded with sleep.

“Huh?” the man mumbles, blinking rapidly as he spots the newcomers. “Oh, hi?”

Gunwook, caught slightly off guard but maintaining composure, bows slightly in greeting. He attempts a friendly smile, though he’s aware it’s a bit strained. “Hello, I’m Park Gunwook. Your—uh—your new roommate.”

The man straightens up a bit, a spark of alertness crossing his features as he steps forward with a more energetic bounce. “I’m Kim Taerae,” he announces with a stretch and a yawn, clearly trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. His voice carries a friendly lilt, welcoming despite the early hour intrusion.

Gunwook smiles in return, before spotting Zhang Hao bringing in one of his sports bags from the hallway. “Oh, I’ll get that, don’t worry,” Gunwook rushes forward to get the bag out of his hands. “Sorry, most of the stuff will be here tomorrow, but I thought it would be best to bring some things beforehand.”

Zhang Hao lets go of the bag easily, eyeing Gunwook with an expression he can’t quite decipher. Then, he straightens up. “You’re in a sport?” he asks, feigning nonchalance, but the way he purses his lips says otherwise. 

Nodding, Gunwook brings some of his bags in the living room before replying, “Yeah. I’m playing on the basketball team.”

“You’re on the basketball team? Our university team?” Zhang Hao’s eyes widen, and his grip inadvertently tightens on another bag he’s holding.

Gunwook raises an eyebrow, taken aback by the reaction. “Yeah?” he replies, his voice trailing off into uncertainty. He can't help but wonder, Does he not look like a basketball player? “Is there something wrong?” Gunwook asks, his tone laced with genuine concern.

Zhang Hao chuckles nervously, “No! No, nothing. I was just a bit surprised…”

“More like excited,” Taerae laughs. 

“Excited?”

“Kim Taerae ,” Zhang Hao half-heartedly threatens, his cheeks tinting with a hint of embarrassment.

Taerae’s smile grows wider. “Do you mind if Hao hyung and I come watch you practice sometime? Just to see?” he asks, clearly intrigued.

Gunwook pauses for a second. They wanna see him practice? They just met ten minutes ago. Maybe that’s how they want to try to get close to him? It wouldn’t hurt. After all, Zhang Hao and Taerae will be living with him for at least a year. 

“Sure,” Gunwook agrees. “Not sure what to expect though. I’m meeting the team for the first time today.” 

“Practice already?” Zhang Hao sounds surprised. “You only just got to the city.”

“And classes start next week,” Taerae adds with bewilderment.

“And isn’t the basketball season a couple of months away?” Zhang Hao continues. Under his breath, Taerae mutters, Of course you would know that.

Gunwook frowns slightly, “Yeah, but they started practice last week already. It's earlier than last year, but I guess the coach is pretty strict about that.”

Taerae beams. “Your coach is definitely gonna be there?”

Gunwook senses an undertone to the question. “Yeah, he should be,” he responds, slightly wary.

Zhang Hao scoffs, pointing at Taerae, “You’re worse than me.” 

Taerae rolls his eyes, “At least I actually talk to him. All you do is eye-fuck him and chicken out of saying anything even when it’s super clear you have that man wrapped around your finger.” 

Gunwook, caught off-guard by the sudden turn in conversation, stands frozen. Too much information in such little time. 

“Uh…who?” Gunwook manages to ask, setting down his backpack on the kitchen table.

Zhang Hao looks mortified, “No one—“ he starts, but Taerae cuts him off with a cheeky grin.

"Your captain.” Taerae says with an amused expression. 

“Kim Taerae! ” Zhang Hao's protest echoes through the room, his voice tinged with exasperation and a hint of panic.

Taerae throws up his hands, unfazed. "What? Our Gunwook here was bound to find out sooner or later," he argues with a dismissive shake of his head.Honestly, seeing you within one mile of the proximity of this man is enough to let everyone know how down bad you are.”

“Oh,” Gunwook mutters, his response more of a reflex as he straightens up and coughs slightly. “I mean...cool?” His voice trails off into a question, unsure how to navigate this unexpected revelation about his new roommate's crush.

“I told you I never make the first move. Ugh. Whatever.” Zhang Hao covers his face, clearly embarrassed. “Just... don't listen to this idiot,” he groans, his words muffled by his hands.

“Now you have one more person to use as an excuse to go see him,” Taerae snickers before standing up. “I’ll go shower, call me when you’re about to leave. I’d rather die than miss Hao hyung salivate at the mouth over this man.” 

Zhang Hao's face turns a deeper shade of red, his discomfort evident as Taerae continues to tease him mercilessly.

With that, Taerae strides out of the room, leaving a slightly awkward silence in his wake. Zhang Hao sighs heavily, glancing at Gunwook with an apologetic grin. "Sorry about that... Taerae doesn’t really know when to stop,” he mutters, still visibly embarrassed.

Gunwook chuckles softly, trying to ease the tension. “It’s fine, Zhang Hao-ssi,” he says.

“You’re a first year, right?”

Shaking his head, Gunwook corrects him gently, “No, I’m a second-year transfer student.”

“Well, I’m doing my master’s so, call me hyung, then,” Zhang Hao insists with a warm, inviting grin. He then turns towards the hallway, pointing out the layout. “Your room is the farthest on the left. I’m just going to tidy up the kitchen real quick, but I can help you set things up once I finish.”

Gunwook lowers his head slightly, a bit shy in his response, “Ah, uh, hyung. Don’t worry, I can manage it myself.” Zhang Hao’s lips purse, a hint of concern flickering across his face, but before he can offer again, Gunwook continues, “And practice starts at 5, so if you’re still down on coming, we should head out before then.”

Zhang Hao nods, smoothing back his hair as he steps back, giving Gunwook space to breathe and settle in. “Alright, that gives us plenty of time. I’ll be quick,” he promises, his tone light and supportive.

Gunwook watches as Zhang Hao retreats to the kitchen, the clinking of dishes punctuating the silence. He lets out a small laugh, more to himself than anyone else. As he stands alone in the middle of the living room, he absorbs the details around him — the books lined up meticulously on the shelves, a cozy throw blanket draped over an inviting sofa, and sunlight nourishing small potted plants on the windowsill. The care put into these small comforts makes the space feel welcoming, a contrast to the sterile dorm rooms he's used to.

With a sigh of relief softened by a chuckle, Gunwook drops his backpack beside the sofa. “Guess I won’t be needing that campus map after all,” he mutters to himself.

────୨ৎ────

Gunwook's first steps onto the SNU campus are tinged with unease. His previous visit, chest puffed with the pride of competing in the championships, now seems like a distant echo of his former self. Back then, his stride was sure, each step powered by the same fierce confidence that had propelled him since high school.

Today, it's different. The circumstances that forced his school switch weren’t just complex — they were messy. Thinking back to when he first made the choice to transfer, he knows he’s lucky to even be recruited here at all , even if the idea doesn't sit completely right. 

Somewhere down the line, he knows he'll have to face his old team, but that’s a bridge he'll cross when he gets there.

What he should be thinking about is how he’s going to approach meeting this new team for the first time. He’s sure some of them might recognize his face — he’s on the taller side and was definitely very prominent during their game last year.

Which makes it all more difficult; he’s anxious that they’ll ask questions about why is even here in the first place. 

He imagines walking into the gym, the murmur of voices pausing, eyes sizing him up. They’ll wonder — why the switch? Did he come for a tactical edge? He doesn’t want them to think he got his spot because of the fact he’s from their rival team.

And so, his biggest concern isn't just fitting in; it’s about being taken seriously, about his new teammates seeing him as more than just a trophy from a rival.

As he's lost in these thoughts, Zhang Hao’s voice pulls him back to the present. “Oh! And here is the library I go to all the time,” Zhang Hao says with a note of excitement, gesturing towards a large, modern building devoid of students — given the actual semester hasn’t begun yet.

Taerae scrunches up his face, looking slightly bemused. “You spend too much time in there, hyung,” he exhales, “You should try seeing the sun sometimes.”

Zhang Hao rolls his eyes, “The sun doesn't help with finishing my thesis, Taerae.”

The sports complex rises ahead, its modern facade gleaming under the afternoon sun. 

“Here we are,” Zhang Hao announces as they approach the gym's imposing glass doors.

Gunwook bites his lip, nerves bubbling up as he echoes quietly, “Here we are.”

Zhang Hao catches the slight tremor in Gunwook’s voice and frowns with concern. “What’s wrong?” Although they’ve just met, Gunwook can already tell the type of person Zhang Hao is — thoughtful and surprisingly very observing. Gunwook feels a little too seen right now. 

“Nothing, just... a bit nervous, that’s all.”

And he isn’t lying. He feels nervous, extremely so . After everything that has happened to him this past year, he wonders if he can even do this. He’s scared about how he will be perceived, if he’s even good enough still to play among university players.

But Taerae shakes his head dismissively, his voice brimming with confidence. “You’ll do great,” he assures bluntly. “Didn’t you mention you transferred here because you got recruited? Your coach obviously sees your potential. And hey, he is pretty smart, right?”

Zhang Hao raises an eyebrow at Taerae’s poorly timed praise. “Now’s not the time, Taerae,” he chides gently. 

Taking the hint, Taerae pats Gunwook on the back. “Just trying to lighten the mood,” he offers with a small smile. “We’ll be on the side, so ignore us and act as if we aren’t here. But hey, if they ask, let your coach know that I’m here, yeah?” His tone is casual, but there's a twinkle of mischief in his eyes that suggests he's half-serious about making his presence known.

“Don’t worry, Gunwook-ah,” Zhang Hao adds with a reassuring smile. “We only met a couple of hours ago, but I can already tell you’re worrying over nothing. You’ve got this.”

As Gunwook pulls open the gym door, the trio steps inside, the gym looks empty except for a few boys huddled in the corner on the other side of the court. 

They barely make it a few steps before a familiar figure walks towards them with a smile, but the man stutters in his pace when his eyes spot Zhang Hao beside Gunwook. 

“Oh, hyung? Taerae? What are you doing here?” the man says with a practiced smile, his presence commanding yet friendly. The way he addresses Zhang Hao and the slight flush that colors his cheeks as he greets them leads Gunwook to guess that this must be Hanbin, the team captain.

Zhang Hao looks slightly caught off guard but recovers quickly. “Hey, Hanbin-ah, it’s good to see you,” he replies, and oh — Gunwook understands Taerae completely now because the interaction happening before his very eyes has him wanting to be anywhere else.

Taerae seems oblivious or perhaps indifferent to Gunwook's discomfort, beaming as he steps in to fill the silence. “Well, Hanbin hyung, we thought we'd come and support our new roommate on his first day,” he gestures to Gunwook. “Might as well show him around campus, too.” 

Hanbin's eyes shift towards Gunwook, his initial surprise smoothing into a warm, open expression. “Ah, you must be Park Gunwook? I’m Sung Hanbin, your captain,” he extends his hand with a blinding smile. 

As Gunwook shakes hands with Hanbin, his grip is steady, betraying none of his internal apprehension. 

Labeling that as a success, Gunwook's faint smile lingers as Hanbin acknowledges the two boys standing to his side. “Hao hyung, Taerae,” Hanbin says with a gesture towards the bleachers, “You can stay and watch if you’d like? I’m sure — uh, Ricky and Gyuvin would love to know you’re here.”

Amused, Gunwook barely suppresses a chuckle. Right… Ricky and Gyuvin (whoever they are). Totally not Hanbin himself wanting them here. He catches a quick glance between Zhang Hao and Hanbin that confirms his suspicion, but he keeps his observation to himself, focusing instead on maintaining his composure.

As Zhang Hao and Taerae accept the invitation with nods and move towards the spectator area, Gunwook turns his attention back to the court. Hanbin claps him on the back, guiding him to join a group of players huddled on the far end, laughing to themselves.

Ah, fuck.

“Coach is running a bit late, but let’s introduce you to the team first. The first years started practice last week so you won’t be the only one adjusting. Don’t worry,” Hanbin says cheerfully, his tone brimming with reassurance.

But Gunwook is anything but assured, clenching his fist around the strap of his sports bag. He’s more nervous about what they’ll think of him, what Hanbin thinks of him, but the man looks too eager — too welcoming for Gunwook to know. 

Put on a brave face. Put on a front. Just for now. Gunwook can't let them think the worst of him right now. 

“Hey guys!” Hanbin calls out to them, his voice gathering some of the boys’ attention. “I want to introduce you to our new player.” 

Hanbin gestures towards Gunwook, as if cueing him to introduce himself. So Gunwook takes a deep breath and hardens his features just enough. “Park Gunwook,” he bows his head.

One of the boys looks a bit uncomfortable, trying for a smile but failing miserably at hiding his grimace. Gunwook bites the inside of his cheek. Not already…

“Oh, uh. Nice to meet you, I’m Kim Gyuvin,” a boy in the front row of the bleachers nods at him in greeting. 

“Taesan,” a boy greets monotonously. 

“I’m Jaehyun!” one of the boys on the side smiles genuinely, reaching out to shake Gunwook’s hand, who receives it cautiously. 

Then, one of the most gorgeous guys Gunwook thinks he’s ever seen lifts a hand in a wave. “Nice to meet you. I’m Ricky,” he says. 

Gunwook nods once they all say their piece. There’s a moment of silence, and Hanbin looks like he’s about to speak when Gyuvin suddenly straightens his posture, as if to save the conversation. 

“Are you a fourth year, Gunwook-nim?” Gyuvin asks, genuinely curious. Gunwook almost jaw drops at the insinuation — does he look that old? 

But Gunwook curses internally for another reason. Well, here goes nothing. “I’m a second year,” Gunwook replies stiffly. He doesn’t mention that they’ve met indirectly before, or the fact that he didn’t study here his first year, or even the fact that he transferred. It’s like beating a dead horse at this point. 

With a wide grin, Gyuvin’s face lights up from the new information. “Oh! Ricky and I are second years, too!” he points to Ricky excitedly but Ricky only sends Gunwook a glare before glancing at Gyuvin and returning to his phone. 

Then on the side, Jaehyun laughs, like he’s impressed. “Wow, getting on the university team your second year? I wonder how coach even found you. How long have you played?” 

Gunwook presses his lips together. He goes the safe route. “Since high school,” he shrugs. 

“Okay, I'll introduce Gunwook-ssi to the other guys before coach arrives,” Hanbin interrupts with a smile. “Make sure to be ready for warm-ups!” He cautions them with the lift of his eyebrow. Gyuvin mocks a salute while the rest of the boys groan. 

A bit overwhelmed already, Gunwook is at least glad no one has mentioned the fact that they’ve competed on the same court once before. And if Gunwook can remember Gyuvin and Taesan, then he’s almost sure they can recognize Gunwook. But they’ve stayed quiet about it up until now, so Gunwook exhales shakily. 

“Some of the older guys were in the locker room last time I saw them,” Hanbin comments as Gunwook follows behind him anxiously. “Don’t worry, they’re really nice!” 

Gunwook doesn’t want to doubt that, especially since thus far (excluding the glare from Ricky), he hasn’t been treated poorly — vastly different from how he left his old team. 

They enter the locker room, and immediately the chatter and laughs from inside catch Gunwook’s attention. There’s some boys sitting on the locker room bench, others standing by their lockers, engaged in a conversation about god knows what. 

As they approach one of the boys closest to the entrance, Gunwook holds his breath. The boy is mid-laugh, tossing a basketball up and catching it effortlessly. His bright, engaging smile and light-hearted demeanor stand in stark contrast to Gunwook’s more reserved nature.

“Matthew!” Hanbin calls, catching the focus from everyone else while doing so. 

The smiling boy grins even wider, if possible. “Oh hyung!” he says sweetly. “Who’s this?” 

Gunwook feels the back of his neck flush as everyone’s eyes land on him almost instantly. But luckily, Hanbin takes the lead. “This is Park Gunwook! Remember? Our new player,” he informs them with a telling expression. 

The smiling boy greets, “I’m Matthew!” And Gunwook bows his head in response. This man is a lot different than those surrounding him, who watch Gunwook with scrutinizing and almost intimidating gazes. Matthew, however, looks more at ease, and it brings Gunwook some sliver of comfort that at least one of the hyungs on the team won’t cause him too many problems. Given how his hyung in his old team was…

Some of the guys wave a lazy greeting, not paying much attention, unlike the boys Gunwook met earlier. But in all honesty, he’d take that over anything el-

“Wait, Park Gunwook?” A boy says slowly. “As in Park Gunwook from KU?” 

Well, fuck. 

“KU?” one of the boys next to him questions. “What are you on about now, Sungho?” 

The boy — Sungho, it seems — tilts his head, analyzing Gunwook from head to toe. But Gunwook stands firm, keeping his appearance of nonchalance, even as he feels his heart pounding. 

“We played against him last year,” another guy points at him weakly, face broken into some form of astonishment (or mocking, Gunwook can’t tell for sure). 

Matthew looks up from his place on the bench, eyes observing him carefully. But he never loses his smile. “Oh really? You’re from KU?” And he looks sincere. 

A bit taken off guard by his softened tone, Gunwook clears his throat, “Uh-yeah.” He doesn’t offer more details — he’ll say only what they need to know. 

Following his admission, Sungho whistles. “Wow, we got a traitor on our team,” he laughs, some of the other boys joining in. 

But Hanbin doesn’t seem to appreciate the comment as much as the others do. “Enough,” he interjects with a gentle tone, one that says more than does. “None of that talk, okay?” Sungho shuts his mouth immediately and Gunwook wonders just how well of a leader this Hanbin guy is for one word to have people obeying his command. 

“Hey, this just means KU really ain’t as good as they say?” a boy chimes in. 

Sungho laughs, “Let’s see how good you are with a ball,” he raises an eyebrow, shooting the basketball in his hands towards Gunwook, who catches it easily. 

Okay, not as bad as he thought. But they still have practice — hopefully nothing goes wrong there. 

────୨ৎ────

The first time Gunwook met Coach Jiwoong, he was being offered a chance to play for SNU. He remembers how impressed Jiwoong seemed, and how sad he seemed too over how Gunwook’s situation at KU ended up. 

And although Gunwook had had reservations about whether Jiwoong brought him here because he pitied him, Gunwook will have to do whatever it takes to prove he actually belongs here. 

“Alright, everyone huddle up!” A man, who Gunwook vaguely remembers as Jiwoong, yells across the court. Everyone surrounds the coach, some sitting down while others lean on each other. 

Gunwook, however, finds himself a bit separated from them, more mentally than physically. His nerves haven’t completely let up yet, because one of the important parts is about to start — how good he can move on the court. 

Glancing toward the bleachers where his new roommates sit, Gunwook notes how they’re watching the team like hawks — Taerae shamelessly, and Zhang Hao discreetly as he glances at his phone every now and then. Gunwook chuckles to himself, seems like he’s found some hyungs that will make his life at SNU interesting at least. 

“Okay, before we get started, I wanted to formally introduce you all to Park Gunwook,” Jiwoong smiles towards the tall boy who for the most part seems confident on the outside, but on the inside he feels like running back into the locker room and hiding in there forever. “I know you might have met him earlier, but I’d like to give him a chance to address you all before the new year starts, considering he wasn’t here last week when we introduced all the first years.” 

Glad Jiwoong hasn’t said much and is allowing Gunwook to take the lead, Gunwook clears his throat, “Um. Hello. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m Park Gunwook,” he recites. “I hope we can get along well.” And he ends it there — more from anxiety than cockiness. 

The boys to be honest look a bit wary, but Matthew nods lightly from his position on the floor, looking up at him with welcoming eyes. “Nice to meet you!” he says among the silence, a tone that surprises even Gyuvin beside him. Gunwook holds back a smile. 

Jiwoong takes this as a cue to intervene. “Let’s get started with warm-ups then!” 

For the next two hours, Gunwook plays like he’s trying out again, like he always has — but this time more vigilantly. With every drill, Gunwook focuses hard on his every movement, making sure that he makes every shot and catches every pass. 

So far, his new team members haven’t been crude to him, playing with him as if he’s always been part of the team. A good sign if he’s ever seen one. 

However, when they’re setting up for a specific drill, Gunwook finds himself anxious again. 

“Alright, everyone split into pairs!” Jiwoong orders, some of the players gravitating to each other instantly, while Jaehyun and Gyuvin fight over a giggling Hanbin. Gunwook feels like he’s back in middle school again, left alone as everyone makes groups for an assignment. He stands with the basketball in his hands, looking around for someone to join. 

But then, a boy shows up before him. 

“Hey, wanna be with me?” Matthew offers, grinning. His open friendliness surprises Gunwook. And it’s clear his approach is unexpected to all the boys as well, who are watching them with some form of shock, or even just rapt interest. 

Apprehensive, Gunwook presses his lips together before accepting, “Sure.” 

Matthew nods, his enthusiasm almost infectious, and for the first time since he’s walked into the gym, Gunwook doesn’t feel as wary. “Alright, come on,” Matthew motions and Gunwook follows. 

As they start their drills, Matthew proves to be an encouraging player, complimenting him and aiding whenever needed. The initial awkwardness from their first meeting melts away slowly, not completely though. 

When it’s their turn to do their lay-ups, Gunwook inhales sharply when Matthew catches the ball Gunwook passes to him, and performs a lay-up so easily that Gunwook smiles to himself. Matthew may be a little shorter than everyone else, but seeing how effortlessly he makes the hoops, Gunwook finds himself endeared. 

After Gunwook catches the rebound and performs his own lay-up, he and Matthew move back to the end of the drill line. “Doing good,” Matthew chuckles enthusiastically. “Can’t wait to see how you are in the game.” 

Gunwook rubs the back of his head sheepishly, “Ah, thanks, Matthew-ssi.” 

But Matthew frowns, “That’s hyung to you,” he chides. “We’ll be seeing each other way more often you know?” 

“Thanks, Matthew hyung,” Gunwook tries again. 

“Hyung?” One of the hyungs behind them asks in shock. “You’re younger than us?” 

Done with his turn with the drill, Gyuvin passes by and laughs. “Right? I thought he was a senior or a junior.” 

Hanbin trails behind him. “What they mean is that you look like you know what you’re doing,” he hurries with damage control and a thumbs up. “Don’t worry!” 

But before Gunwook can defend his case, Jiwoong yells, “Hey, pay attention! Matthew, Gunwook, you’re next!” 

“Yes, coach!” Matthew smiles with a faux alertness, but Jiwoong only shakes his head with amusement. 

────୨ৎ────

Classes start uneventfully — except for the fact that Gunwook feels like a freshman all over again, lost around campus trying hard to find his lecture halls without looking like an idiot. Luckily, Taerae accompanies him some mornings when he has his own classes, guiding Gunwook to his building before leaving toward his own. 

It’s a little weird. He’s actually studying at a school he talked badly about last year, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. Well, scratch that. He does have a choice, but it isn’t one he would’ve liked. 

On the Friday of the first week of the semester, Gunwook finds himself stumbling into his public affairs class. He had his first lecture for this class on Monday, but he had sat in the back of the hall, not really up for talking to anyone much. 

However, today, he arrives around 3 minutes before class starts, so most of the seats are full now. Gunwook bites his lip, looking around for an empty seat. 

“Gunwook-ah!” A voice calls for him among the chatter of the students around him. Gunwook turns toward it with a confused look. Then, a couple rows up from where he stands, Gyuvin is waving at him with a smile. 

Gunwook hasn’t seen him for a total of fifteen hours since their last practice, but he finds himself a bit relieved. What he’s learned about him this past week and a half is that Gyuvin is very kind — a little too kind sometimes. It took three days before Gyuvin started to invite Gunwook to their after practice hangouts with some of the hyungs. 

Gunwook had declined every time, more focused on fixing up his room, or simply just locking himself in there trying to hide away from it all. Very mature…Gunwook knows. 

But what he appreciates the most about Gyuvin is that he never stops. He reaches out to Gunwook during practice, saying a small comment that gets Gunwook smiling, or complimenting him when Gunwook starts to get frustrated. 

“Come sit with us,” Gyuvin pats the empty seat next to him, his eyes flashing with anticipation. Obeying, Gunwook sits next to him, noting Ricky on his other side. “You’re in this class?”

Trying hard to ignore Ricky’s gaze, Gunwook nods with a lopsided grin. “Yeah, I didn’t know you guys were.” 

Another thing Gunwook learned, or more like deduced, is that Ricky is very very protective of Gyuvin. Well, protective maybe isn’t the right word. He’s very much attached to him, but he pretends not to be. No matter what, Gyuvin is always beside him, finding ways to stay close to him even with the most mundane things. 

Gunwook isn’t sure what he did to get on Ricky’s bad side, but every time Gunwook isn’t in the conversation, Ricky looks normal — definitely not like Gunwook did something to him so offensive that he can’t stand to look at him like he usually does when Gunwook is around. 

But Ricky hasn’t been outright mean to him if Gunwook talks to him first, so Gunwook leaves it be.  

Gyuvin shakes his head. “Oh, I’m not in this class,” he laughs when Gunwook raises an eyebrow. A broad smile playing on his lips, Gyuvin points his thumb to Ricky, who peers at Gyuvin with a flash of amusement. “Ricky is, and we usually get lunch after so sometimes I stick around.” 

Gunwook nods with his mouth shaped in an ‘o’. “Ah, gotcha,” he replies knowingly. So they really do go everywhere together. 

Their professor chooses that very moment to walk in, the entire lecture hall quieting. “You can join us after,” Gyuvin offers, whispering. 

Taking a short moment to think about it, “Sure.” Gunwook agrees slowly. Gyuvin brightens, most likely because of the fact that Gunwook finally accepted an invitation from him. 

As the lecture begins and Gyuvin sits with a laptop open, Gunwook leans near his ear. 

“Why are you taking notes?” Gunwook asks with a tinge of laughter. 

Gyuvin turns to him with slightly widened eyes. “Oh. This class is pretty interesting, and my notes are sometimes better than Ricky’s,” he lifts his shoulder in a half-shrug. 

Gunwook doesn’t say anything to that, just turning back to his notes with a shake of his head. Well…that surely is..something. 

────୨ৎ────

After class, the three boys make their way across campus, leading Gunwook along as he follows helplessly. “Did your old school have any cafes?” Gyuvin asks as they walk towards the student union. 

Gunwook shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, some,” he replies, keeping his tone neutral.

“Really?” Gyuvin perks up, his voice tinged with a competitive undertone. “Well, I don’t mean to brag, but I think our cafes are better. I mean…I’ve heard rumors, you know? That KU has some badly rated ones. But, you know best...”

Suppressing a chuckle, Gunwook takes a thoughtful sip from his water bottle before responding, “I mean…I’ll have to try it before I can rate it.”

Ricky, walking alongside them, can't help but smile at the exchange. “Gyuv, don’t pester him,” he chides gently, though his tone is amused.

Gyuvin turns to him, feigning shock. “Where did you learn that word?” he asks, eyes wide.

“Hao hyung,” Ricky lifts an eyebrow with a smirk. 

“Wow,” Gyuvin laughs, clapping on Ricky’s shoulder. “You’re improving.” 

Amused by their interaction, Gunwook watches them for a moment before something clicks. “Speaking of hyung, I forgot he said he wanted to join me to eat today.”

“Really? Well, the more the merrier,” Gyuvin grins, his enthusiasm undimmed. He hooks their arms together, leading Gunwook with an easy familiarity towards the throng of students in the student union. 

The cafe is bustling, with groups of students huddled over textbooks and laptops, while others engage in animated conversations. Gyuvin leads the trio confidently through the crowd, finding a table near the large windows that offer a view of the green outside. 

Ricky looks up from his phone. “Hyung said he’s on his way,” he informs them. “I’ll place his order so it’s ready when he arrives.”

“I’ll-I’ll join you,” Gunwook manages as he stands up ready to follow Ricky to the register, leaving Gyuvin to save their seats. 

Maybe spending some time alone with him can ease the tension between them. After all, Gunwook isn’t too sure why the two are still awkward with each other, given that Gyuvin is very much not with Gunwook anymore. 

Ricky lifts an eyebrow, “No. It’s okay. I can grab it.” 

“Ricky, let him. I’ll be here to see when hyung arrives,” Gyuvin says innocently. 

Tensing his jaw, Ricky’s face flushes warm and Gunwook hesitates, a bit intrigued by the reaction. “Okay,” Ricky says. 

The pair make their way towards the register and Gunwook licks his lips before saying, “So anything you recommend?” 

Ricky pauses as they get in line. “Honestly, it just depends on what you like.” Go girl, give us nothing. 

Gunwook bites back a frown. Although it’s a bit funny to see Ricky like this — trying his hardest to look nonchalant — part of him still wonders if there’s another reason for his disposition. “What’s your favorite then?” 

“The strawberry frappe.” 

“I’ll try that one then,” Gunwook follows easily. 

They order uneventfully, adding Zhang Hao’s order that Ricky seems to have memorized. Standing by the side as they wait for their drinks to be made, Gunwook intakes a sharp inhale before elbowing Ricky lightly. 

“Uhm. I had a question,” Gunwook starts, treading carefully. 

Ricky crinkles his forehead in what looks like confusion. “A question?”

“Yeah. Uhm. I just noticed lately that you don’t seem to, uhhh. I don’t know how to put it but I guess I wanted to say that I hope we can get closer from here on out,” Gunwook finishes his monologue he prepared with a smile, hoping he can get his sincerity across. 

Lately, although Gunwook has been very hesitant around their team, careful to not get too close to anybody — he’s learned his lesson with that — it’d be better to clear things out. 

“You noticed what?” Ricky says, ignoring everything else Gunwook had said. But what’s strange is how anxious he seems. 

“Just…I don’t know. You don’t seem to like me,” Gunwook replies. 

Ricky takes a hefty exhale, as if relieved. Relieved?

“Oh,” Ricky mumbles. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He doesn’t provide much else of an explanation. 

So Gunwook asks for one. “I know I transferred from a different school, KU of all places,” Gunwook says, insistent on keeping his words steady. “But I belong on this team now as much as everyone else. If that’s a problem, I hope it doesn’t affect how we play on the court.” 

Ricky’s hardened gaze falters. “That’s not…”

“I won’t apologize for much else. I haven’t done anything wrong since I’ve arrived, to my knowledge, so if I have, let me know directly,” Gunwook solidifies. 

“Oh, Gunwook-ssi. I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong idea,” and this time Ricky looks a bit panicked, waving his hand as if to disperse his assumptions. “It’s not that at all. I don’t have a problem with you because of that.” 

Gunwook tilts his head in thought, “But you do have a problem with me?” 

Ricky sighs, eyes darting away from Gunwook’s, who is now confused beyond belief. If that’s not the reason, then what is? Gunwook has been trying hard not to mess things up, to prove his worth, to loosen up enough that things aren’t tense on the team, but to keep his distance despite that — in order to avoid any conflicts. 

He knows how to evade these types of things, or at least know what to look for. He knows it’s best to address things head-on or else it'll blow up eventually. 

“It’s nothing,” Ricky shakes his head. 

But Gunwook won’t have that. “Ricky-ssi. I’d rather you let me know,” Gunwook’s voice wavers for a second, more taken off guard by his dismissal. 

Ricky purses his lips, “I just..I don’t like you getting close like that.” 

Close? He doesn’t what? It doesn’t clear anything up, like…at all. 

“If you don’t want to be friends, I get that,” Gunwook exhales. “But, I’d rather us not be awkward like this.” 

“No,” Ricky looks down at his shoes. “I promise it’s not that. Being friends is okay…just…”

Gunwook’s mind runs through every possible scenario, trying to figure out if he ever said anything offensive, or wrong, or plain rude. But he can’t recall. “I don’t think I understand…”

Ricky squeezes his eyes shut before turning to face Gunwook with a pained expression. “Just, Gyuvin…” he doesn’t finish his sentence because Gunwook’s mouth opens in some sort of understanding. 

…Oh. 

“Uh, Ricky-ssi,” Gunwook chuckles nervously, hurried. “I swear. I’m not trying anything like that. I won't overstep, I promise.” 

Ricky’s cheeks flush. “I'm sorry. I realize how immature I’ve been.” 

Gunwook shakes his head, “No, uhm. I get it,” he says. He does..somehow. Some time ago, Gunwook was the one that was possessed like this. So, he can understand — kind of. 

“No. It’s not fair to you,” Ricky says before his eyes turn pleading. “But please don’t tell anyone about this. Especially Gyuvin.” 

“I won’t, of course I won’t. I swear,” Gunwook promises. “That’s be fucked up of me. But I get it now.” 

Ricky nods, turning back to the barista counter. 

Gunwook waits a couple moments before speaking again. “Why don’t you just talk to Gyuvin?”

Ricky scoffs. “Talk to Gyuvin about what?”

“About the fact that you’re practically in love with him,” Gunwook deadpans. “Look, it never occurred to me why you were acting that way with me, but besides that, I could tell from the start how you feel about him.”

“Yeah, no,” Ricky blushes again, hands visibly trembling. 

“And how he feels about you…” Gunwook continues, noting the way Ricky pauses. 

“What are you talking about?” Ricky’s voice wavers, denial pungent in the air. 

“Ricky, you’ve got to be joking.” Gunwook replies, observing how Ricky clenches his jaw. 

“He doesn’t like me like that.” Ricky asserts, defining, yet resigned. “Look, you’ve just met us, so you don’t know Gyuvin as well as I do, but trust me when I say he doesn’t feel the same.” 

“You’re serious?” Gunwook gapes. Is he really being serious? 

Ricky hardens his features. “Very. Never in a million years will he like me back. Never. He’s got a crush on this girl from his psychology class. I stand no chance.” 

In utter disbelief, Gunwook shakes his head. “I know I said I wouldn’t overstep, but you’re the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen,” Gunwook laughs. “He’s got to be crazy not to like you. And even besides that, he does everything with you, he even takes notes for you. I’ve seen him bring you your lunch to practice, he even made food for you yesterday and even though everyone could tell it was ass, he was so excited for you to try it. Also, he never stops talking about you, even says you’re a married couple. And don’t even get me started on that time he-”

Ricky cuts him off, voice strained. “Okay, okay,” Ricky says, looking overwhelmed. “I get it. But we’re best friends. That’s it. Best friends…”

“Best friends buy each other matching couple rings?” Gunwook’s eyebrow arches, his tone playful yet pointed. 

Guilty, Ricky covers the ring on his left hand immediately. “How did you know that?” 

“I’ve only been here two weeks, and Gyuvin has shown it off to me like ten times already.” Gunwook reveals, grin widening. 

“That d-doesn’t mean anything.” Ricky stutters, confidence waning. 

Gunwook smiles. “Right. Ricky, well Ricky hyung,” he muses. “Invite me to the wedding, yeah?” 

Then, the barista calls their names, and Gunwook starts to walk away. Behind him, Ricky mutters, “I think I'll just go back to ignoring you.” 

Once Ricky and Gunwook return back to their table, they spot Gyuvin engrossed in his phone, occasionally looking up to scan the cafe. When Gyuvin finally spots the pair, he smiles wide. 

“Finally,” he complains playfully. “Took you forever.” 

“It’s packed today,” Gunwook shrugs. “Start of the semester, I guess.” Ricky hands Gyuvin his smoothie that he ordered as he’s sliding in next to him before Gunwook has the chance to. Gunwook just sits across from them, unbothered. 

They're halfway through their drinks when Zhang Hao arrives, his presence immediately noticeable as he waves over at them from the entrance. He makes his way through the café, a smile brightening his face as he spots the group.

“Sorry I'm late,” Zhang Hao explains as he joins them, pulling up a chair. “How are you?”

“Hyung!” Gyuvin beams, reaching over to wrap him in a hug. Zhang Hao gladly accepts it. “I haven’t seen you in forever.” 

“I saw you at your practice three days ago,” Zhang Hao sighs, rolling his eyes, albeit fondly. 

“Well you were talking to Hanbin hyung the whole time,” Gyuvin grimaces. 

Gunwook covers his mouth to hide his expression from showing, entertained by Zhang Hao flustered eyes. “Oh, I'm…”

“Yeah, I was waiting for you to look at me,” Gunwook sighs. “I wanted to make a shot for you, you know? But you only looked when Hanbin hyung did. He even missed and you still thanked him for it. You guys are awfully close, aren’t you?” 

Gyuvin looks between them in confusion before Zhang Hao squints his eyes. “Park Gunwook…we might be roommates but I swear if you say anything-“

“Oh! Are you talking about Zhang Hao’s crush on Hanbin?” Ricky laughs. “Hyung, we already know about that.” 

“Who?” Zhang Hao asks hurriedly. “Who else knows?”

But Gyuvin opens his mouth in shock. “You like Hanbin hyung?!”

“Not Gyuvin apparently.”

“Wait. Wait. When was this?”

Gunwook throws his hands up in surrender when Gyuvin looks to him for answers. “I just moved here. Don’t ask me.”

Zhang Hao groans lightly, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he realizes the topic has spiraled out of his control. “Okay, look,” he starts, trying to bring some order back to the conversation, “it's not exactly a crush.”

Gyuvin's eyes widen in disbelief, and he leans closer, his curiosity piqued. “Not a crush? Then what is it, exactly?”

Ricky snickers, enjoying the unfolding drama. “Yeah, hyung, enlighten us.”

Zhang Hao glances around the table, his cheeks slightly flushed. “It's...complicated,” he admits, his voice a mixture of resignation and defensiveness. The entire table is now hanging on his words, even Gunwook, who tries to maintain a neutral expression despite his growing amusement.

“Complicated how?” Gyuvin presses, not willing to let the topic drop.

Zhang Hao sighs, conceding that there's no escaping this interrogation. “Let's just say Hanbin and I have a lot of history. We've been through a lot together, and yeah, I admire him—a lot. Can we leave it at that?”

“Hyung, you should just confess to him already!” Gyuvin stresses. 

Teasing, Gunwook catches Ricky’s eyes. “Yeah, hyung, you totally should.” Ricky only shoots him a glare. 

“Confess?” Zhang Hao repeats, voice flat. “No. I don’t make the first move, okay? I need to let him come to me.” 

Gyuvin, unaffected by his hyung’s distress, pouts exaggeratedly. “Hyung, don’t worry about your image. Knowing Hanbin hyung, that won’t be anytime soon.”

Zhang Hao’s reaction is immediate; he almost chokes on his coffee. “What is that supposed to mean?” he sputters, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion and a hint of annoyance.

“Just that Hanbin hyung is a scaredy-cat,” Ricky chimes in smoothly, his voice carrying a hum of amusement. “I’m sure he’s waiting for you to do the same.”

“I don’t know,” Zhang Hao bites his lip in thought. “Maybe next time, I see him, I’ll allude to it…not full out, you know? Just…”

Gunwook shifts his gaze to the side, and noticing  a familiar figure, his eyes light up, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. He turns back to Zhang Hao, his voice tinged with playful urgency. “Well, hyung, you said it and now it’s time to put it to practice, ‘cause guess who is here.”

Zhang Hao’s face drains of color. “Hanbin?” he whispers, a mix of hope and dread lacing his tone.

“Yes,” Gunwook chuckles.

“Oh, and Matthew hyung, too!” Gyuvin notes and before anyone can stop him, he waves at them to call their attention. 

“Gyuvin!”

The boy realizes his mistake too late. “Oh. Sorry,” he places a hand over his mouth. “Is it too late to tell them to go away?”

Zhang Hao shoots Gyuvin a sharp look, his annoyance palpable. “Yes, it’s too late,” he mutters under his breath, his shoulders tensing as he prepares for the impending interaction.

Gyuvin looks genuinely remorseful, his hand still covering his mouth. “Sorry, hyung,” he whispers again, his eyes darting between Zhang Hao and the approaching figures.

Hanbin and Matthew, now aware of their group's presence, begin to make their way over with smiles. Hanbin’s gaze locks onto Zhang Hao, a mixture of surprise and curiosity evident on his face, while Matthew seems quite entertained. 

“Hey guys! Oh, and hey Hao hyung!” Matthew calls out, his voice carrying over the hum of the café. His approach is easy and unguarded, contrasting sharply with Hanbin’s more measured steps.

Zhang Hao takes a deep breath, steeling himself as he turns to face them fully. “Hey, Hanbin-ah, Matthew-ah,” he manages a strained smile, hoping to maintain some semblance of composure despite the awkward setup.

Gyuvin, still feeling guilty, tries to lighten the mood. “Hyungs, we were showing Gunwook the wonders of SNU cafes.” He glances at Gunwook and Ricky, silently pleading for backup. “What are you doing here?”

As Hanbin gives a measured smile, Matthew pulls out a chair and settles next to Gunwook. “We wanted to grab some coffee after class. Right, Hanbin hyung?”

Hanbin nods, “Y-yeah,” he agrees, looking at Zhang Hao intently. Ricky mimes a gag, and Gyuvin elbows him to get him to stop. 

“Sit down, Hanbin,” Matthew explicitly pulls a chair right next to Zhang Hao. “You’re making me anxious standing like that.”

It leaves Hanbin with no choice but to follow along, settling down with bright red ears. Clearing his throat, Zhang Hao presses his lips together. “How have you been? Haven’t seen you in a bit.”

“Well, I’m sure nothing much has changed from last night,” Matthew shrugs, his words holding an undertone that has Gyuvin staring at him for answers. 

“Oh, you hung out last night?” Ricky asks loudly. 

Zhang Hao narrows his eyes in warning. “We just grabbed some food.” 

“Yeah, nothing much.” Hanbin says, his nervousness obvious. 

Gunwook groans internally. He’s surrounded by hopeless couples — plural. “Kill me,” he mutters under his breath, not expecting anyone to hear. 

But Matthew does and he leans in close. “You’ve figured it out, too?” Matthew’s conspiratorial whisper catches Gunwook off guard, and he glances up to meet Matthew's knowing eyes. 

Gunwook nods slightly, his response a blend of frustration and humor. “I haven’t been here long and I’ve already seen too much,” he murmurs back, keeping his voice low enough for only Matthew to hear.

Matthew chuckles softly, his gaze flickering across the table where Zhang Hao and Hanbin are now engaged in an awkward, halting exchange, clearly trying to navigate around the obvious tension. “You're telling me,” he agrees, his voice still low. 

Gunwook smiles, finding it quite endearing how excited Matthew looks over this. Considering how Ricky has implied to this situationship having lasted long enough, it makes sense that Matthew is insistent as everyone to have them get their shit together. 

“So, uh,” Hanbin's nervousness is palpable, his fingers tapping lightly against his coffee cup. He tries to appear casual, but he glances towards Zhang Hao. “Are you guys going to the fair?” 

Gunwook raises an eyebrow, “The fair?”

Matthew turns to him, “Oh. I forgot you’re a transfer,” he says. “It’s the fair, festival thing that we have at the beginning of every year.” 

“Yeah, there’s clubs advertising, some bands playing, and games,” Ricky lists off. 

“Oh! And cotton candy!”

Zhang Hao hums, “It's going to be my last year as a university student. I’m definitely gonna be going,” he shrugs before pouting. “Not sure who I’m going with though…What about you?”

Gunwook clenches his fist. Shit. It’s happening. 

Hanbin, completely missing the cue, quickly jumps in. “Yeah, I'll be there, with uh... you know, with the team and everyone else.” His words stumble slightly, falling short of the casual tone he was aiming for.

Okay…it’s not happening. 

Just then, a sudden touch on his lower thigh makes him nearly jump. He turns to find Matthew next to him, offering a grimace that clearly conveys sympathy for Hanbin's awkward attempt at casual conversation.

Gunwook nods at him, as if agreeing with him. He feels his chest burn…this interaction must be giving him second hand embarrassment. 

Meanwhile, at the edge of the table, Ricky leans slightly towards Gyuvin, lowering his voice, not enough to have only Gyuvin hear. “Hey, do you want to go to the festival together?” His tone is casual, but there's an earnest undertone that suggests he's hoping for a positive response.

Gyuvin, taken aback by the sudden invitation, looks at Ricky with a mix of surprise. “As if we weren’t going to,” he responds, a smile breaking across his face. “That’s where we reunited last year, remember?”

“Reunited?” 

“Yeah,” Gyuvin exclaims. “Ricky and I have technically known each other since like late middle school, but he moved to America for a while and we somehow found each other again here last year.”

Gunwook nods, “Oh. Like fate?”

Ricky narrows his eyes as he shifts in his seat. “I wouldn’t say-”

“Of course,” Gyuvin laughs, like it’s obvious. As if possible, Ricky blushes even harder. 

Zhang Hao clears his throat, sending a quick gaze at a smirking Gunwook. “Um, Hanbin-ah. Since Ricky and Gyuvin will be together…want to go with me?”

“Oh,” Hanbin almost gasps. His response comes as a visible relief to himself, perhaps a bit too eager to mask his own nerves, “Oh, y-yeah, hyung. I’d love to! Or I mean..Uh yeah, it’ll be fun.”

Okay, gross . It’s like he’s watching middle schoolers interact. Although he finds the softness in their eyes endearing, Gunwook needs to leave (rhetorically), he can’t handle this anymore. 

Maybe to dispel the awkwardness, Matthew turns his attention to Gunwook, who has been quietly observing the lovesick boys around him. With a playful grin, Matthew asks, “What about you, Gunwook? You wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun, right? How about you come with me?”

Gunwook, slightly surprised by the direct invitation, hesitates for a moment. He can’t really reject an offer from a hyung, especially one who has been friendly to him from the start. Matthew looks pretty excited by it, too. But maybe there’s a joke behind it, even Gunwook could see it as mocking the two couples in front of them for being so nervous around each other. 

Even if there’s nothing else behind the invitation, it wouldn’t hurt to be in the favor of one of the hyungs. Besides, venturing to the festival with Matthew promises a break from the couples of the basketball team in itself. 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he answers. 

Chapter Text

“Where the fuck…” Gunwook mutters under his breath, searching through the dark storage closet with difficulty. 

As a consequence (or a simple task as his coach put it) for coming to practice early, Jiwoong had assigned him to sort through some of the equipment in their gym storage closet and fetch some of the newer ones for later. 

Gunwook happily agreed, not wanting to get on the coach’s bad side. It’s still too early in the year to know whether he has won over in his favor yet, and with his team not having any problems with him so far, he’s determined to suck it up just to be on their good side.

But the problem is, that this closet is so disorganized that he can’t even begin to understand what he’s even looking at. The basketballs are tossed to the side, some cleaning supplies too. And some random jerseys folded, albeit neatly, in the corner. It’s all messy, and he doesn’t even know where to start.

Gunwook runs his hand through his hair, sighing in defeat. On the brink of giving up and storming out, he freezes in place when he hears approaching footsteps. Tensing, Gunwook spins around.

He's met with the sight of Matthew, his duffel bag slung casually over his shoulder and a broad smile gracing his face. “Oh, hyung,” Gunwook greets him, a mix of relief and confusion relaxing his body. “What’s up?”

Gunwook is just glad it isn’t one of the other hyungs on the team, the ones he hasn’t had much of a chance to talk to yet — since talking for the first time in a small storage closet doesn’t sound like a great idea.

Looking curious, Matthew steps into the dim closet, placing his bag down with a thud. “Coach told me you might need my help,” he says, his voice echoing slightly in the cramped space.“I’m usually the one in charge of grabbing the equipment, but I see Coach is putting you up to it.” 

Taking a small step back when Matthew approaches, Gunwook offers a shaky smile. “Oh,” he stammers, trying his hardest to be polite while feeling a twinge of guilt for not managing by himself. 

It is true he was struggling, but he should be able to figure it out on his own. Plus, he’s new, he should be picking up the slack instead of being a freeloader. 

But his hyung doesn’t seem to see it that way. 

Matthew steps past him, surveying the disorder with experienced eyes. “Well, it looks like you do need my help after all.” 

As if suddenly awakened, Gunwook hastily waves his hands. “Ah, hyung. Don’t worry. I can do it,” he rushes. 

“Nonsense,” Matthew grins widely. “Here, step aside, let me help.” 

Gunwook is powerless against him, who moves through the mess handing Gunwook things to place somewhere else or outside the closet for them to take to the court. The younger man stands there helplessly, a bit embarrassed as he looks down at his shoes. 

He’ll have to make this up to him somehow, for this and all the other times these past few days Matthew has done something for him. Ranging from helping him now to inviting him to the fair so he won’t be alone, Gunwook bites the inside of his cheek in thought. 

He also definitely doesn’t want anyone else from the team to think he’s using Matthew to do things for him. Okay, new plan: be more independent, try to get out of situations that put a burden on Matthew. It sounds fairly easy, and he’s about to tell his hyung that he can finish up the rest before he sees Matthew nearly finished. 

It’s clear now that Matthew most definitely does this for Coach quite often since it didn’t take long for Matthew to find every piece of equipment they need, finding order in the messiness of it all.

“Here, hold this real quick,” Matthew hands Gunwook a bag of basketballs.  

And as Gunwook takes the bag into his arms, he practically short circuits. Those are some very…defined biceps. 

Oh wow, has he always been built like that? It’s obvious that Matthew takes his gym sessions seriously, which makes sense given the physical demands of their sport. Curiosity piqued, Gunwook wonders about Matthew’s workout routine. Would it be weird to ask him about it?

“Gunwook?” Matthew’s inquiry snaps him from his focus.

Startled, Gunwook’s grip loosens, and the bag of basketballs clatters to the floor. “Yes?” he stutters, his face flushing with heat. Shit, was he staring?

Noticing Gunwook’s embarrassment, Matthew offers a teasing smile, his eyebrow arching playfully as he glances at the scattered balls. “You okay?”

“Oh,” Gunwook mumbles, quickly stooping down to gather the balls. “Sorry. Thanks, hyung.”

As he straightens up, Matthew chuckles softly, the sound easing the tension a bit. “No worries. Happens to the best of us,” he jokes, helping to collect the last of the stray balls.

How embarrassing. But also…how mortifying. 

“Oh, I was going to text you earlier, but I realized I didn’t have your number,” Matthew groans as he stands up, facing away from Gunwook as he finishes up the last of things. “What time do you want to meet tomorrow?”

Gunwook stutters, “Um, anytime, hyung. Hao hyung wanted me to help him with his outfit…even though I am probably not the best at that,” he mutters in the last part, pulling a smile from Matthew. Oh, Gunwook made him laugh. Well, Matthew actually laughs at everything so.. . “But, after, I can head straight over.”

Matthew hums easingly, “That’s good,” he says, before pulling out his phone. “Then how about you finally give me that phone number? I would’ve gotten it from Hanbin hyung but I don’t know if you would’ve thought of it as weird,” Matthew shrugs sheepishly, as if embarrassed to have to ask.

“Sure,” Gunwook agrees. His hyung looks a bit shy, in a way that Gunwook has seen many times before with the rest of the team. So Gunwook ignores it, clearing his throat and putting in his contact information in Matthew’s phone. 

Gunwook, feeling like a kid again, celebrates internally. Having someone reach out to intentionally connect with him like this is a bit exhilarating as much as it is scary, but Gunwook tries hard not to think of it as much right now.

Then, with a glance towards the now tidy closet, Matthew suggests, “How about we head out, yeah?” He gestures towards the door, his demeanor casual. 

Gunwook nods eagerly, more than ready to get out of this closet before his skin burns even warmer.

────୨ৎ────

When they get to the court, Matthew immediately breaks off from him to approach their captain with a hug, one that Hanbin returns. Most of their team has arrived for practice by now, some probably in the locker room, some sitting on some of the bleachers, while others stand in the corner on their way to change. 

“Gunwook!” Gyuvin calls for him from where he is stretching on the floor, Ricky sitting idly next to him. “Come over here. I need your opinion!” 

Gunwook approaches him with a tense smile, “What’s up?” he asks. As soon as Gunwook settles next to him, Gyuvin motions for him to get closer, a mischievous look in his eyes. Gunwook becomes a little wary. What is this boy up to? 

Whispering, and being bad at it, “Do you think we can convince Hanbin hyung to take us out tonight?”

“Out?” Gunwook questions. “Like to party?”

Ricky shakes his head. “Gyub, there’s no way he will take us,” he rejects the idea immediately. “He may have friends throwing parties tonight, but he sees us as his children. He’ll have a stroke if we ever show up to one of those.”

“So Hanbin hyung can go but we can’t?” Gyuvin pouts. 

“Go where?” Hanbin shows up behind them, causing Gyuvin to let out a yelp that he fails to hide. The captain kneels down to meet their level with a raised eyebrow. 

Fixing himself up, Gyuvin clears his throat, “Oh, nothing,” he half-shrugs.

Hanbin’s curious face turns into a suspicious one. “What are you guys talking about?”

Betraying them, Ricky drawls, “The fact that you go to parties.”

An expression of surprise paints their captain’s face, “Parties? I don’t go to those.”

Gyuvin scoffs. “Hyung, do you really think I’ll believe that when I heard that your freshman year you climbed a lighting pole when you were  drunk?”

Hanbin practically pales. “Who told you that?”

“Hao hyung.” Gyuvin smirks. “He knows a lot about you.” Taking in Hanbin’s flushed cheeks, Gunwook turns his head away to hide his amusement. 

“Whatever,” Hanbin stutters. “J-just, no parties for you.” 

Flailing his arms around, “But hyung! If you take us, you’ll be the one to keep an eye on us. Isn’t it safer that way?”

“That’s a very good argument,” Gunwook points out, with a teasing nod. “Hyung, I think he’s being very reasonable,” smiling when Gyuvin gives him a thumbs-up in appreciation. 

“Plus we need a break before midterms start,” Ricky comments, peering at his manicured nails absently. 

“And the training for tomorrow got canceled because of the fair!” Gyuvin adds on with raised eyebrows, pointing at Hanbin. 

Seeing them start to join forces against him, Hanbin pinches the bridge of his nose exasperatedly. “What am I going to do with you guys?” 

Gyuvin puts on the best form of a pout he can muster and grabs onto Hanbin’s wrists. “Please? If you go with us, I can even convince Hao hyung to come as well…”

Oof. Low blow. There’s no way Hanbin will pass up the chance, and Gunwook knows he’s right when he sees Hanbin freeze, his mind probably working a million miles a minute to find a response. 

“Hao hyung can go if he wants…th-that doesn’t concern me.” Hanbin lies terribly. Both Gyuvin and Ricky look at each other briefly, Can you believe this dude?

Fine. Gunwook sighs. It’s time to put those debate club skills to the test — just to make Gyuvin stop pouting. But Gunwook opens his mouth to interject with his A-class, high level argument when Matthew plops right next to them. His appearance startles him as Matthew leans his body weight on Ricky, who smiles minutely. 

“Can’t help but overhear,” Matthew muses, tilting his head. “But if Hanbin hyung won’t take you, then how about you come with me? My friend is having a party. It’ll be after the festival tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow?” Gyuvin quips, visibly perking up. “I’m so down.” 

“Will there be a lot of people?” Ricky asks slowly, like he’s scared of the answer. Gunwook deduces that being an introvert, hanging out with Gyuvin, and being at the fair with him for a whole day might drain his energy completely before they can even get to the party. 

“Of course!” Matthew answers honestly. “You remember Keeho, right? His club throws parties like three times a semester. They’re to die for.” The last sentence’s grammar comes off a bit but Gunwook understands immediately. 

“Wait, Keeho?” Gunwook asks, the name very familiar to him. “I think I’ve been to his parties before.” 

Finally interjecting, “You have?” Hanbin looks scandalized, face contorting at the thought. 

“Yeah, KU would go a lot since our clubs would sometimes collaborate to plan them.” 

With his competitive tone, Gyuvin crosses his arms, “Well this time you’re going as part of SNU,” he points out unabashedly. Gunwook bites the inside of his cheek. 

“Actually…I probably won’t go” Gunwook hesitates, looking down at his lap when they all focus on him. With Gyuvin making a nose of disagreement, Gunwook directs to him, “But you should.” 

“Wait, why?” Gyuvin frowns. “You said you wanted to.” 

Gunwook did not, but he didn’t say he didn’t either. 

The truth is that he can’t risk seeing his old team again. Those dudes party like no tomorrow and the chance of seeing one of them….almost certain. Hanbin pats his shoulder, as if understanding completely, but also maybe a bit glad that one of his underclassmen won’t be drinking it up. 

“My old team will be there for sure,” Gunwook chuckles when Gyuvin looks confused. Ricky beside him makes a hum in realization. “Let’s just say, I would rather not see them again.” 

“Are you sure?” Matthew bumps their shoulders together teasingly. “You remember how fun they are, don’t you?” There is something so warm and welcoming about his smile that Gunwook can’t help but feel bad about rejecting the invitation. 

His hyung looks hopeful, like he needs Gunwook to say yes. Most of the boys on their team will probably join as well, but that fact doesn’t seem to ease his nerves. 

Gunwook intakes a sharp breath, gazing at Matthew in thought. Because yes. He does remember. Very clearly, actually. There are many memories, good and bad, that were made at these parties, memories he’d rather not relive. But seeing Matthew's inviting gesture, Gyuvin’s clasped hands in anticipation, and Ricky’s inquisitive look, Gunwook reconsiders. 

Would it be so bad? He can’t be a prude, not when his new friends are trying so hard to get closer to him. He’s done it before, and plus, maybe if he keeps his head down and sticks with Gyuvin, there won’t be much trouble. His old team would be drunk anyways. 

Exhaling, weak to Matthew’s pleading face like everyone else at this point, Gunwook relents, “S-sure,” nearly falling back when Matthew throws an arm around him, shaking him in happiness. 

“Yay!” he grins, his laugh infectious, before addressing the other second years, “Gyuvin? Ricky? You on?”

Gyuvin doesn’t hesitate, “Of course,” he beams, smiling wide. “I’ll let Hao and Taerae hyung know, too!” He immediately grabs his phone, Gunwook assumes to text them. 

Ricky, on the other hand, waits for a moment, before glancing at Gyuvin, “Yeah,” he decides finally, leaning back on his hands as he watches Gyuvin grin to himself. 

His enthusiasm undimming, Matthew gestures towards Hanbin, who sits unamused. “Hyung?” he intones, wiggling his eyebrows. “Come on!” 

His resolve crumbling, Hanbin sighs exaggeratedly. “Fine,” he throws his hands up in faux defeat. “You win. I’ll go.” 

Smug, Matthew claps Gunwook's shoulder before pulling away. “Perfect. I knew I could convince you,” giggling when Hanbin glares. “Oh, stop, I know you wanted to.”

Albeit fondly, Hanbin crosses his arms. “I’m only going because you’re cute.” 

Like the devil he is, “Don’t let Hao hyung know you said that. He’ll get mad,” Gyuvin laughs, dodging when Hanbin goes to smack him. 

────୨ৎ────

“How do I look?” 

Gunwook looks up from his phone from where he’s sprawled on Zhang Hao’s bed. His hyung stands in front of the mirror, a pink cardigan and light blue jeans framing his figure. He fusses obsessively with his hair, analyzing every strand like his life depends on it. 

“You look beautiful, hyung,” Gunwook repeats for the thousandth time. “You haven’t changed anything in the past half hour. Don’t worry, you look great.” 

But Zhang Hao only bites his lip. “Are you sure?” he stresses, turning to the younger man with worry. “Hanbin-ah is dressing up, too, right? I know it’s just a school fair but I don’t want to be too underdressed, or overdressed, even though there’s no such thing as overdressed.” 

Waving his phone as proof, “He’s been sending his outfit ideas to the group chat for the past two hours,” Gunwook laughs, entertained. “I think you’re fine. Plus, if anything, Gyuvin and Ricky will be the ones overdressed. It’s an important day for them apparently.” 

Zhang Hao rolls his eyes. “Of course Quanrui would.” 

Gunwook understands the sentiment because for the past four hours, Ricky has been asking for Gunwook’s “fresh opinion” on his outfit and how he should approach asking Gyuvin to get dinner with him tomorrow night. It is a bit surprising to be asked for advice from Shen Quanrui himself, but he’s probably just as nervous, if not more nervous, than his hyung pacing right in front of him. 

“Hanbin hyung will be picking you up soon, right?” Gunwook sits up, stretching. “Taerae hyung is already there, too.” Taerae, as Gunwook learned, is president of the choir club on campus, and they had a couple of songs to perform today, inadvertently forcing him to be present on campus at ungodly hours of the morning. 

Nodding, Zhang Hao gives himself a once-over before finally looking satisfied. “He’s coming in ten,” he answers steadily, but the tapping of his foot exposes his nerves.

Gunwook grins. “Well, you look great, and I’m sure Hanbin hyung will think so, too,” he appeases. “I don’t know why you’re so nervous. You say it’s not a date and yet he’s coming to pick you up. So I’m sure even if you wear a trash bag, hyung will probably grovel at your feet.” 

Zhang Hao regards him with disbelief. “You exaggerate,” he says with a pointed look. “Pander to me more and you’ll be doing dishes for the next month.” But Gunwook sticks his tongue out in a very mature response. 

The past weeks, Gunwook has fortunately gotten along splendidly with his new roommates. Considering they’re older, they regard Gunwook like a little brother, Zhang Hao especially — also searching for him in the apartment and waiting up when Gunwook stays out for too long. 

It’s nice having hyungs look out for him like this. In a way, it reminds him of his brother back home…and his hyung at KU. Gunwook shakes his head to dispel the memory. Nope. None of that. Not the time. 

“What about you?” Zhang Hao gestures towards his clothes. “Is that what you’re wearing?” 

Gunwook scoffs at his hyung’s disapproving tone. “It’s not a date for me like it is for you,” he says. 

Zhang Hao walks towards him and immediately starts fussing over Gunwook’s collar. “You’re still going with Matthew-ah right?” 

“Yeah,” Gunwook nods, looking down at Matthew’s singular message: I’m almost there! See you soon. “But I think we will meet the rest of the hyungs there. I’d rather not be stuck with Gyuvin and Ricky throwing lovesick eyes at each other,” he shivers. “Being with them at practice is enough already.”

Another thing Gunwook found out is that literally everyone besides Gyuvin and Ricky themselves know what those two feel for each other. And it’s evident with how exhausted some of the players and their hyungs look when the couple says or does something so outrageous that it makes them all cringe from their obliviousness. 

“You’re right,” Zhang Hao laughs, now moving onto fixing Gunwook’s hair. “Still, it doesn't hurt to get ready.” 

“Hyung, are you saying I don’t look good?” 

Scoffing, “No. I’m saying that this is your first school event since you transferred,” Zhang Hao notes. “And considering how you were when you first came, you’ve fit in a lot easier than I thought. So it’d be like a little celebration for you.” 

Not quite understanding where he’s going with this, Gunwook frowns. 

Scrunching his nose, Zhang Hao boops Gunwook’s cheek, as if he let his impulsive thoughts win. “You’re from KU, Gunwookie. And I honestly expected you to get some problems from that, you know? Stupid school pride and rivalry,” Zhang Hao dismisses with his hand. “But I’m glad Gyuvinnie and Ricky took you under their wing.” 

Humming, Gunwook nods to himself in thought. “Yeah,” he says. “I thought so, too. But it’s only been a few weeks,” he mentions. “There haven't been problems…yet.” 

“Yet?” Zhang Hao catches, his eyebrow perfectly arched in question. “What do you mean by that?”

Gunwook quite literally freezes because…what does he mean by that? It is true that things have been good. It’s true that he hasn’t gotten in any fights or experienced anyone being rude towards him. In fact, it’s been the complete opposite. He’s been living as part of that team, a cohesiveness that is slowly weaving Gunwook into the dynamic. 

While he is glad, he is also scared. 

Gunwook scoffs internally — he’s scared of everything at this point. 

He wants to wish things to stay calm, that when the season starts in a couple of weeks and the pressure amps up, that he manages to stay under the radar, to melt into the team easily. Maybe it’s possible. Maybe… But there’s this voice in his head saying that if he doesn’t try hard, if he relaxes into that peace and calm, one day it’ll go to shit… just like last time . 

“Nothing,” Gunwook tries to deflect. “Don’t worry, hyung.” He knows from the little experience he has how Zhang Hao will fuss over him if he expresses the truth about his worries, and with Hanbin on the way, it’s a bad idea to do so now. 

Zhang Hao looks over at him for a moment, as if to analyze him. “You know they really like you, right?” 

“Hm?” Gunwook says as a reply. “What do you mean?”

“The boys. Hanbin, Gyuvin, Ricky…Matthew…they all like you,” Zhang Hao tells him. “Even though I know in that head of yours, you’re still being careful, or maybe you still feel like the outsider, but from what I’ve heard from all them, you’re an amazing player, you’re funny when you get out of your shell, and annoying…well that last one is what Ricky said.” 

The corner of Gunwook’s mouth lifts up. Yeah, sounds like him. 

Zhang Hao softens his stance, “I don’t know what happened before, but don’t let it affect how you enjoy your first year here. It’s a transition period after all, you know? Speaking from experience.” 

“Ah,” Gunwook takes the opportunity, unfolding his legs so he sits on the edge of the bed, “That’s because you’re old, hyung. You have a lot of wisdom.” 

Zhang Hao immediately shoots him a playful glare. “Watch it, Gunwook. I know where you sleep.”

Gunwook only smiles, admiring how his hyung feigns an angry expression. It isn’t until Gunwook pokes his cheek back that Zhang Hao rolls his eyes before looking all serious again. 

“I’m just glad that I have heard from others that you’ve fit in really well,” Zhang Hao continues, pursing his lips. 

Terribly curious, Gunwook inquiries, “Who?” 

Zhang Hao sighs, opting to straighten Gunwook’s jacket, perhaps a product of his nervousness from earlier. “Matthew-ah. He said that even though you were scary at first, you’re actually really sweet.” 

Gunwook gapes. “Scary? Sweet?” He doesn’t know what to focus on first. Gunwook was scary? That’s not really an adjective he thought someone would associate him with. Deep down, he feels a bit offended, but more than that, he feels panic settle in. 

“What? You don’t think you’re sweet?” Zhang Hao laughs, booping his cheek again. 

“No, I mean. I mean, what do you mean scary?” Gunwook asks breathlessly. “I wasn’t rude to him, was I? What did he say?” Zhang Hao is about to reply before Gunwook tenses his jaw. “He didn’t get the wrong impression of me, right? I don’t want him to thi-”

“Woah,” Zhang Hao pats Gunwook’s chest in a soothing motion, looking concerned. “He didn’t say anything bad, baby. Don’t worry.” 

Gunwook visibly relaxes. “Sorry,” he says, embarrassed. This isn’t something for his hyung to have to hear, so Gunwook holds back his excessive questions he so desperately needs the answers to. 

Just for now. Hanbin is almost here. 

“Don’t apologize. He just said that you intimidated the team at first,” Zhang Hao comforts, sitting next to him on the bed. “That they were all a bit wary because you’re from KU. But eventually they realized you weren’t as mean as they initially assumed you’d be, so they let you be. Which is an unfair assumption by the way!”

“Matthew hyung thought I was mean?” Gunwook repeats. He can’t say he didn’t suspect, because he knows his first impression probably wasn’t the best it could’ve gone. But, it also wasn’t the worst. 

“Matthew? No. Everyone else…Kind of. But it’s stupid. They were stuck in their heads being territorial boys. Even five minutes after meeting you, I knew you were just a cute kid under that shell. You couldn’t fool me even though you tried.” 

Utterly shocked, Gunwook frowns. “I’m sorry, hyung. I really…really didn’t mean to be rude to you.” 

But Zhang Hao flicks his forehead softly, just to get the message across. “Shush. I never said you were,” he lectures. “Now don’t worry about anything, yeah? Matthew-ah spoke only good things about you. So be nice to him, baby. Buy him a snack or something, or win him a bear later,” he says with a smirk. 

He echoes incredulously, “Win him a bear? What do you think this is?” 

Is this how it appeared to him? Granted, back to that day in the coffee shop, while the actual lovebirds were shyly asking each other to go to the fair together, Matthew did step up to ask Gunwook. 

Wait…did Matthew mean it like that?

No. Of course not, Gunwook squints in thought. He would’ve implied it like that..made it clearer. But he saw Matthew — he clearly meant it as a joke. Wait, no. Not a joke. He’s meeting Gunwook there in half an hour. 

Gunwook feels his chest burn. He can’t be speed running anything right now, especially now. He needs to figure out how he can fix this, how he can weasel his way out of this situation. Gunwook won’t let himself emit the wrong signals, especially when he has no idea what signals he is already giving off. 

And Matthew…Matthew is nice, one of the most welcoming people he has ever met. It’s one of the traits that characterizes him in Gunwook’s head — nice, almost to a fault. Gunwook knows that someday, or maybe in the past already, someone can find that kindness and take advantage of it. 

Imagining it, he feels a pang in his heart. That’s a devastating possibility for anybody to go through. He can’t have these thoughts, take advantage of this offer to spend time together at this fair. 

So no, Gunwook decides. He won’t win him a bear. Maybe they will go to some booths, play some games, and Gunwook will buy him some food in gratitude, but that’s where it will stop. Nothing more and nothing less. 

“Hey. I’m not the one jumping to those conclusions,” Zhang Hao laughs, ruffling Gunwook’s hair before his phone pings. “Oh! It’s Hanbin.”

Dang it. Now Zhang Hao is too busy giggling happily as he types on his phone to give Gunwook more information because now he’s lowkey freaking out for a different reason. Gunwook presses his lips together, concealing his worry, when Zhang Hao looks back at him with a smile.

“Hanbin is in the elevator,” Zhang Hao exhales dreamily. “You’ll be okay, right? When are you leaving?” He stands up hurriedly, returning to the mirror for a last check. 

Clearing his throat, Gunwook straightens up, expelling his heavy thoughts. “I’m gonna leave in like fifteen and take the bus to meet Matthew hyung,” Gunwook recites. 

Before Gunwook can add on, a knock from the front door rings throughout the apartment. Zhang Hao’s doe eyes instantly widen in anticipation, hands flying to his mouth. 

“He’s here,” Gunwook muses knowingly. 

“Ahhhh. Okay, I can do this,” Zhang Hao whispers to him with clenched eyes before recollecting himself. “I’ll see you later,” he gathers his things quickly before enveloping Gunwook in a hug. “Text me when you get there, yeah?” he insists. 

“Of course, hyung! Have fun.” Gunwook nods to appease him, letting Zhang Hao pat his cheek one final time before he turns around to go meet Hanbin. When Gunwook hears the door opening and the start of the muffled conversation of the pair, he sighs. 

Okay, maybe this fair won’t be as he thought. But he will have fun, he will enjoy himself. Zhang Hao told him to, and he will do anything to prevent Zhang Hao from pouting at him if he finds out Gunwook doesn’t. 

────୨ৎ────

As Gunwook steps off the bus, he immediately spots Matthew sitting on a bench at the campus entrance, completely absorbed in something on his phone. The background is alive with music streaming from the center field where rows of tables and a large stage are set up for the day's events. That’s where Taerae will be performing, he remembers. They’ll have to make a pit stop later to go see it. 

Observing Matthew's amused smile as he watches his phone, Gunwook exhales a quiet sigh and starts walking toward him, hands buried in his pockets. 

Gunwook's thoughts churn uncomfortably. He can't shake off the uncertainty about what Matthew might be thinking of him, even though Matthew has shown no change in demeanor since their last casual meeting at the coffee shop. And the only time the pair had been alone was in a cramped storage closet….where Gunwook so shamefully admired Matthew’s arms. Oops?

“Gunwook!” Matthew's voice breaks through his reverie, as he stands to greet him. He's dressed casually in a black shirt, a stark contrast to the school merchandise donned by the students milling around them. Suddenly, Gunwook suddenly wishes he hadn’t listened to Zhang Hao, he feels overdressed now. “You’re here.”

“Hey, hyung,” Gunwook responds, trying to keep his voice even. “You weren’t waiting long, were you?”

“Nope,” Matthew says, his voice light as he motions towards the event. “Not long at all. You actually got here faster than I thought you would.” Gunwook nods, following Matthew as they weave through the crowd.

Gunwook clears his throat, voicing a question with a dual purpose. “When are we meeting the team?” He's testing the waters, trying to gauge whether his concerns about their dynamic are misplaced.

Matthew's laughter rings out, light and teasing. “You wanna get rid of me or what?”

Gunwook's eyes widen in horror. “No, hyung! Not like that,” he chuckles nervously, feeling a rush of relief when Matthew just laughs it off.

“I’m kidding,” Matthew assures him, patting his arm gently. “If you want to be with them, I’m sure we can find them around here.” He scans the crowd casually.

Feeling a pang of guilt for possibly giving the wrong impression, Gunwook quickly interjects. “Hyung, it’s okay. I didn’t mean I don’t want to spend time with you,” he says earnestly. “Where do you want to go first?” He gestures broadly, ready to follow Matthew's lead.

“Let’s go see the clubs,” he suggests, leading Gunwook through the throng of students. “Maybe you can find one you want to join.” 

Matthew's enthusiasm is infectious as he navigates the chaos of the club booths, each one bustling with energy and draped in the colors of their respective interests. As they pass a table decked out with colorful banners and flyers, Matthew’s familiarity with the scene becomes apparent. 

The path they take is flanked by various stands — each club hosting their fundraising games or promoting their semester events. Gunwook watches as couples giggle while receiving bouquets from the environmental science club and other students enjoying the freebies the tech club is offering to any passerbys.

“I have some friends I could introduce you to! Some of them would love to meet you,” Matthew says, his voice bubbling with excitement.

Gunwook utters a small sound of confusion, his brow furrowing slightly. “They know about me?” The idea sends an unexpected flutter through his chest.

“Of course,” Matthew replies with a reassuring nod. He gently grabs Gunwook’s arm to guide him, saving him from a near collision with a passerby. “A lot of them attend our games, and I’ve talked to them about all the new players. They’ll be watching you play.” His tone is casual, as if discussing the weather, but to Gunwook, the thought is somewhat daunting.

It begs the question of what exactly Matthew told them, but Gunwook isn’t sure whether that’d be appropriate to pry about in the middle of a crowd, trying to pass through without being elbowed by anyone. Instead, he focuses on keeping pace with Matthew, whose quick strides are a challenge to match in the dense crowd.

“Here,” Matthew says, turning to signal a booth with his head. “Remember Keeho? His business club is this one!” Before Gunwook can respond, Matthew is already calling out to someone at the front of the table. “Keeho!”

Keeho's stand is bustling with activity, flyers fanned out in an appealing display and colorful banners fluttering overhead. Two boys busy themselves with arranging pamphlets and answering questions from interested students, but Keeho's attention shifts as he spots Matthew and Gunwook approaching.

“Matthew! How are you?” Keeho's voice cuts through the din, his demeanor bright and welcoming.

“Doing good, and you? I see your table is up and running,” Matthew replies, his voice laced with genuine interest as he nudges a stack of flyers with a knowing smile. They're promoting tonight's event, designed to draw a crowd, and it looks like they're succeeding.

“Going great actually,” Keeho responds with an enthusiastic nod. His gaze then shifts to Gunwook, who stands a touch awkwardly by Matthew's side. "Hey. I’m Keeho," he says, extending a hand warmly.

Gunwook receives the greeting by extending his own, “Park Gunwook,” he says, attempting a welcoming expression. This is his hyung’s friend after all, none of that posturing stuff. 

“Gunwook! The new player on the team, right?” So Matthew did talk about him…

“That’s right,” Gunwook confirms, his words slightly halting as he notices Matthew observing their interaction with an amused and somewhat proud look. It's almost as if he enjoys seeing his worlds collide, witnessing his friends connect. “Do you keep up with basketball often?”Gunwook ventures, trying to engage Keeho further.

Keeho laughs, the sound light and easy, blending seamlessly with the festive sounds around them. “Well, I'll definitely be watching more now that you're on the team. Matthew's been telling us you're quite the player.”

Gunwook feels his cheeks warm slightly under Keeho's attention and Matthew's amused gaze. It's flattering yet slightly unnerving to be discussed among Matthew's friends. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, trying to appear more at ease.

Matthew jumps back into the conversation, perhaps sensing Gunwook's discomfort. “Now that we’re here, we wanted to RSVP in person,” Matthew says, a joke underlying his tone. Keeho simply rolls his eyes. 

“As if you would ever miss one of my parties,” Keeho laughs. 

“What if one day I did?”

“Then I’d come knocking at your door asking what killed you.”

“Well, I’ll be taking Gunwookie here with me this time,” Matthew pats Gunwook’s arm, something that he seems to like doing. 

Gunwook clears his throat, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves. “It’d be my first time going,” he admits, not wanting to seem less informed or inexperienced. Matthew turns to him, his expression flickering with surprise before quickly smoothing into a practiced calm, masking his initial reaction at the lie.

“Really?” Keeho says, leaning in slightly, his interest piqued by this new information. “You’ll have a blast, especially if you stick with Matthew. Don’t you worry.”

Before Gunwook can digest the implications of Keeho's words, Matthew is already redirecting their path. “Then we will get going, I need to show him the art club’s cotton candy stand,” he says with a laugh, the lightness in his voice pulling them away from the deeper currents of the conversation.

“He seems nice,” Gunwook comments. And he means it. Keeho seems very welcoming, something that eases Gunwook’s worries. It's a bit ridiculous maybe how Gunwook finds small things like these comforting, someone simply regarding him in a positive way without a motive. 

“He is,” Matthew nods, nearly tripping before steadying himself as Gunwook spots their target destination a couple of stands away. “Here.”

The cotton candy stand is magnificent — and every other adjective there is that describes the pure happiness the sugar high gives him. Matthew offers to pay for both of them, pouting when Gunwook refuses. He manages to pay anyway when he guilt trips Gunwook about him not being a responsible hyung to him, and Gunwook would rather die than let any hyung of his believe that, especially one as attentive and caring as Matthew is. 

In all honesty, being with Matthew is relieving, truly one of the best ways Gunwook can describe it. It’s nice hanging out with someone as enthusiastic about showing Gunwook around as Matthew is. It makes Gunwook forget about the pretense he came with and the worries that distracted him. Now, it’s just Matthew he’s hanging out with at the fair, taking this opportunity to get closer to one of his teammates. 

So why is Gunwook’s heart stuttering every now and then? Gunwook hopes Zhang Hao lightly stubs his toe into a pillow for putting these ideas in his head. Because now Gunwook can’t stop thinking about this hangout in any other way other than…not friendly. Which is ridiculous, right?

But ridiculous is Gunwook’s middle name because deep down, being seen and treated like this — with Matthew rushing to pay, to lead him around, to introduce him to many people because he wants Gunwook to know more friends on campus — it makes his heart warm. And in whatever way it may be, he knows Matthew has good intentions. 

But still…Gunwook is not winning him that bear. 

As they weave through the bustling crowd, the festive atmosphere of the campus fair deepens, filled with laughter, music, and the occasional shout from club tables and stands. Matthew, popcorn in hand, surveys the array of tables with glee, his enthusiasm undiminished by the throng around them.

“Oh, they have some games?” Matthew exclaims, his eyes lighting up as he spots a row of colorful booths offering everything from ring tosses to a shooting gallery. “We should go!” he suggests eagerly, popcorn forgotten for a moment as he sets his sights on a particular game.

Just great… Gunwook has been thinking about it so much that he probably manifested that stupid bear himself.

He winces slightly at the thought of trying to win such conspicuous prizes but nods in agreement, following Matthew who’s already making a beeline towards the nearest game.

As they close in on their chosen game, Matthew turns to Gunwook, his grin wide and inviting. “One v. one?” he proposes, the suggestion light but laced with an undercurrent of challenge that makes Gunwook's heart race just a bit.

Let’s give it a shot, Gunwook responds, his voice steadier than he feels. Inside, he's trying to convince himself: It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a game. It’s just a bear. It’s just a stupid fair. 

Matthew's first few attempts are cheerful but unsuccessful, his rings clattering off the pegs. He laughs off each miss, his easy demeanor encouraging a laugh from Gunwook, who feels lighter by the minute.

“Okay, you’re next, Gunwookie!” As Matthew hands the last ring to Gunwook, there's an encouraging pat on the back that sends a curious shiver down Gunwook's spine. The touch, meant to encourage, instead sparks a flutter of nerves that Gunwook tries to quash as he steps up to take his turn.

With a deep breath, Gunwook aims and tosses the ring, but it veers wildly off course, not even close to its target. His cheeks flush a deep red as Matthew bursts into another fit of giggles, his amusement clear as he shakes Gunwook's arm in a friendly, teasing manner. "No worries, it's tougher than it looks!" he says, his voice light and teasing.

Alright, my turn again, Matthew says, stepping back up to the line with a determined grin. He positions himself with exaggerated seriousness, drawing a laugh from Gunwook despite his earlier embarrassment. The student manning the game, a lone figure apparently abandoned by his clubmates, watches them with a weary but amused smile.

Matthew's next throw is more calculated, his focus evident as he narrows his eyes and lets the ring fly. It spins through the air and lands snugly around one of the pegs. “Yes!” Instantly, Matthew celebrates, shooting a triumphant look to Gunwook, endeared. 

“Thanks for playing and supporting the chess club!” The student attendant, with a practiced smile, hands over the large plush bear to Matthew, who accepts it with a soft, victorious grin. Turning to Gunwook, he extends the bear, his voice filled with playful triumph. 

“Here,” Matthew decides, the bear now transferring from Matthew’s arms to Gunwook's.

Gunwook takes the bear, feeling its plush weight settle into his arms, a gesture so simple yet laden with meaning. On the surface, it's a friendly act, the kind of thing a caring senior might do to cheer up a teammate. Yet, the significance of the moment isn't lost on Gunwook, whose heart has always leaned towards sentimentality.

Gunwook is a softie at heart, and after all this time he’s spent in the dumps these past months, being treated like this is stirring possibilities deeper in his head, allowing him to imagine something that is probably not even there.  

“Thanks, hyung,” Gunwook manages to say, his voice slightly thicker than he intends. Because Gunwook didn’t win Matthew a bear, Matthew won Gunwook one. 

As they move away from the game booth, the lively atmosphere of the fair continues unabated. Matthew seems unfazed, already pointing out another booth with an exciting game, his energy undiminished. “You've got to try the dart throwing next. They have these cool posters as prizes!” he suggests with a contagious enthusiasm.

Gunwook nods, trying to match Matthew's lively pace and bright demeanor, but his thoughts linger on the bear. He holds the bear closer, a part of him wanting to read into Matthew’s actions, to see them as gestures of affection rather than mere friendliness. Yet, he hesitates, unsure if his own burgeoning feelings are coloring his interpretation of Matthew's kindness.

As the sun begins to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the bustling campus, Matthew glances at his watch and then over to Gunwook. “Actually, it's almost time for Taerae's performance. Shall we head over to the stage?”

“Yeah, let's go. I wouldn't want to miss it,” he says. The bear is still tucked under his arm, bringing him a sort of comfort he tries hard to dispel.

They weave through the crowd, their path lit by the colorful lights strung up around the campus. The din of the games and chatter fades as they move toward the stage area, where the sound of a soundcheck replaces the festive noise.

Matthew leads confidently, occasionally looking back to ensure Gunwook is following closely. “You know, you’re actually a bit different than I thought you were,” Matthew shares with a candid half-smile. 

“Oh, really?” Gunwook hugs the bear a bit tighter.

Matthew's laughter blends smoothly with the fair's festive background noise. “Yeah, you’re more adorable than I thought you could be,” he responds, nudging Gunwook playfully. Oh wow, Gunwook most definitely does not blush. Nope. Not at all.

As they arrive at the stage area, Gunwook and Matthew spot Ricky and Gyuvin already settled in at the front with a few extra seats saved. They make their way through the last bit of crowd.

“Hey, guys!” Matthew calls out as they approach. Ricky and Gyuvin turn around, smiles spreading across their faces. 

“Hyung!” Gyuvin greets, patting the chair next to him. “Hanbin hyung and Hao hyung got some seats on the other side so we saved some for you.” The four of them quickly rearrange themselves; Matthew slips into a seat next to Gyuvin, leaving Gunwook to sit beside Ricky, who immediately notices the plush bear.

“You won a bear?” Ricky asks, his eyebrow arching in amusement — tinged with a hint of hypocrisy, considering the strawberry squishmallow cradled in his own lap, undoubtedly Gyuvin’s doing.

Gunwook shifts slightly, feeling Ricky’s eyes on him as the other two boys delve into a separate conversation. “Matthew hyung did,” he replies, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, the bear suddenly feeling like a much more conspicuous companion.

Before Ricky can delve deeper into the matter, the lights around the stage dim, drawing the crowd’s attention forward. The first notes of Taerae's performance float through the air, capturing everyone’s focus. Gunwook takes a deep breath, relieved for the distraction, allowing the music to wash over him. 

Throughout the performance, Gunwook finds himself occasionally glancing at Matthew, who is completely engrossed in the show, his head bobbing slightly to the music. The earlier exchange about the bear lingers in Gunwook's mind, mingling with Matthew's playful comment about his adorableness. He feels a warmth in his chest that has little to do with the summer evening air.

Internally, Gunwook battles with his feelings. Last year's shadows — loneliness, doubt, the struggle to feel connected — lurk in his peripheral vision, making him question his right to this budding happiness. Is this foolish? Is he reading too much into every smile, every touch? 

Is he jumping too far into a dynamic that Matthew hasn’t directly recognized yet? These thoughts clash with the undeniable warmth that Matthew’s proximity brings, a warmth that seeps into the chill left by past pains.

The music swells, the crowd cheers, and for a moment, everything else falls away, leaving Gunwook caught between the joy of just letting himself hope and restricting himself from some foolish dream.

Gunwook will admit, he’s been a little… lost. 

He had been afraid of what his life could have turned out to be if he hadn’t managed to leave his old school. He had been afraid of how his life at SNU would’ve been if he hadn’t met such genuine people like Gyuvin, Zhang Hao, Taerae, Hanbin, Ricky.

And now there is Matthew.

Matthew has an outlook on life that Gunwook admires wholeheartedly.

It’s comfort, it’s safety. A hyung once let him down, once threw him to the wolves when all Gunwook wanted was to be loved, to be secure. 

And although Zhang Hao gives him something similar, it is in the way Matthew looks out for him — how he makes sure Gunwook feels included, and how he celebrates even small victories like winning a stuffed bear at a fair — that Gunwook finds himself hoping, perhaps more fervently than he ought to, that Matthew will continue to be as supportive, that this isn’t just a shallow kindness.

As the final chords of Taerae’s performance echo through the air, mingling with the loud applause of the crowd, Gunwook inhales. The stage is quickly overtaken by a student band, their enthusiasm palpable as they set up their instruments and test their mics.

“Wow, Taerae hyung is so good,” Gyuvin gapes in awe with an impressed chuckle. “I’m going to make him sing at karaoke more often.”

Muttering, although fond, Ricky rolls his eyes, “As if Hao-ge and Taerae hyung don’t hog the mic already.”

Matthew jumps on the idea with his usual enthusiasm. “Let’s go next week,” he suggests, already looking around as if he could bring the karaoke bar to them right then.

“Do you mean the weekend?”

“A little karaoke on a Tuesday night never hurt anybody.”

Gunwook, half-amused and half-dreading the energy it would take, chimes in, “I’ll literally be dropping dead.”

“But, you’re still going to go!” Gyuvin insists, giving Gunwook a playful pout before turning back to Matthew. “We can ask Hanbin hyung to make it a team event, right before the scrimmages start.”

Gunwook’s smile falters a bit at the mention of scrimmages. “The scrimmages? Already?” he asks, his tone tinged with a hint of concern.

“Don’t you remember?” Ricky tilts his head, looking a bit puzzled.

“Yeah, but I thought last year we did it a little later,” Gunwook chuckles, trying to mask his rising anxiety with a light tone. He remembers all too well the last time he donned his KU uniform against SNU — memories that are more stressful than nostalgic.

“Coach wanted us to start a bit earlier and the other teams agreed,” Gyuvin explains, unaware of the internal storm he’s stirring in Gunwook. “Plus, it’ll be fun. At least we can test out their first years and see what competition we really have this year.”

At Gyuvin’s words, a chill runs through Gunwook. 

The prospect of facing his old team — sooner than he had anticipated — sets his nerves on edge. The thoughts of how that encounter might unfold begin to cloud his mind, dredging up anxieties he had hoped to keep at bay. His heart sinks as he considers the inevitable reunion, filled with old faces and old judgments.

He won’t tell anyone though; he’ll probably just fake being sick that day. He isn’t a starter anyway, and it isn’t an actual game, he reassures himself.

That’ll be a problem for another time, Gunwook concludes silently, forcing a smile as he turns back to his friends.

Chapter Text

“Hyung!” Gyuvin exclaims, breaking into a sprint toward Taerae, who has just finished his performance. He wraps his arms around Taerae in a tight hug, lifting him slightly off the ground. Taerae groans under the force but can't hide the flush on his cheeks.“You were amazing!” Gyuvin beams, his enthusiasm bubbling over.

As he approaches them with Ricky and Matthew, Gunwook can't help but chuckle. “Hyung, I didn’t know you could sing like that,”  he says, impressed. “Even when the rest of your club came on, I could only hear you!”

Taerae, still slightly breathless from his performance and the enthusiastic greeting, shakes his head dismissively. “Ah, stop,” he pleads sheepishly, waving off the compliment. “I’m just glad you guys came to watch,” he adds, his voice sincere and grateful.

“Of course we would,” Matthew responds with a supportive hum, clapping Taerae on the shoulder.

“Speaking of we…” Gyuvin trails off. A brief silence falls as Gyuvin, his eyes scanning the thinning crowd, suddenly frowns. “Where is Hao hyung?” he mutters, confusion creeping into his tone.

“He texted me that he’ll be back at the apartment,” Taerae replies, his voice steady but his eyes betraying a hint of uncertainty.

“With Hanbin hyung?” Ricky probes, the incredulity in his voice reflecting his surprise.

Taerae winces, hesitating. “Not exactly,” he admits reluctantly.

Feeling a knot of confusion tightening in his chest, Gunwook instinctively pulls out his phone, scrolling through his messages. The absence of any text from Zhang Hao adds to the peculiarity—it's not like him to leave so abruptly, especially when he had plans with Gunwook to share some tanghulu as a treat after the performance.

Matthew, sensing the building anxiety, quickly pulls out his own phone. “Let me call Hanbin hyung real quick,” he decides. “You guys go ahead. I’ll see you guys tonight!” With a reassuring nod, he steps aside to find a quieter spot, phone pressed to his ear.

Gunwook bites his lip, watching Matthew walk away. “They’ll be okay,” Taerae finally says. “Not sure what happened... but honestly, it was probably a dumb misunderstanding.” 

That is completely possible. The pair have spent years not being able to talk to each other about what they really feel. So it wouldn’t be out of the ballpark to suggest that the same happened now. 

Gunwook turns to Ricky, who looks down at his feet. He doesn’t look worried, nor curious really about what may have happened between their hyungs. Maybe Zhang Hao already talked to him about it?

When Ricky catches Gunwook’s gaze, Ricky shifts uncomfortably. Now curious over something else, Gunwook leans over, nudging him gently. “Did you ask him yet?“ he whispers into Ricky’s ear, nosiness lacing his voice as he discreetly motions to Gyuvin.

Ricky glances back with a resigned expression. “No,” he replies simply, a hint of sadness in his tone that doesn’t escape Gunwook's notice. They both turn their attention back to Gyuvin, who is enthusiastically showing Taerae a video of his performance on his phone. 

Ricky doesn’t seem too disheartened, but he’s clearly not in the mood to discuss it further, so Gunwook leaves it for another time, like maybe when the boy they’d be talking about isn’t right across from them. 

“How about we get going?” Gyuvin smiles, nodding at the three boys. “We won’t get ready in time for tonight if we keep standing here.” 

Gunwook nods, his mind already racing ahead to the evening’s plans and the need to check in with Zhang Hao once he’s back at the apartment. Gunwook wonders how Hanbin is right now, wherever he is. But Matthew is most likely with him at this point. And knowing Matthew, Gunwook has that trust that he’ll make him feel better. 

“Off we go,” Taerae agrees, his laughter mixing with the lightness of the fair as Gyuvin playfully shakes his shoulders. 

────୨ৎ────

The four boys sit comfortably in Taerae’s car, Gyuvin stealing Ricky’s squishmallow to annoy him as he fastens his seatbelt. Ricky remains unbothered and Gunwook chuckles from the passenger seat.

Taerae passes Gunwook his phone, “You’re on aux,” he orders, turning on the car easily. As they pull away from the curb, Gunwook sifts through Taerae's music library.

Gunwook’s phone vibrates with an incoming message, pulling his attention away from the window. It’s from Matthew. He unlocks his phone, the bright screen displaying the message: Hey, Hanbin is doing okay, so dw. Will fill you in later. See you at the party?

Gunwook hums softly, a mix of relief and confusion settling in. He wonders why Matthew chose to update him specifically, considering the rest of the boys in the car have known Matthew and Hanbin for much longer. Maybe Matthew sees him as someone who needs reassurance or perhaps it’s just his way of making sure everyone is in the loop. 

Not wanting to distract Matthew by asking more, he quickly types back a response, his thumbs moving deftly over the screen: Alright, hope everything’s okay. See you there. Be safe. 

Gunwook sends off his text and sets his phone on the dashboard, its screen dimming as his thoughts linger on the brief update from Matthew. He finds himself staring out the window, watching the campus buildings slide by in a quiet blur. 

As they pull up to Ricky's dorm, the playful banter that had filled the car earlier settles into a more subdued farewell. Ricky and Gyuvin, still entangled in their ongoing squabble over the squishmallow, exit with a mix of chuckles and mock annoyance. 

“See you in a bit,” Gyuvin says, shutting the car door gently. Gunwook watches them with a half-smile, his eyes tracing their familiar forms until they disappear through the dorm's heavy doors.

Taerae pulls away, the engine humming softly as his fingers tap against his knee, keeping time with the soft music he has put on, a low-key indie track that fills the space with gentle guitar strums.

As the car sweeps past the softly lit paths of the campus, Gunwook’s thoughts drift towards the upcoming party. It’ll be good to see everyone there, to feel part of something. Though the thought of something going wrong tonight fills him with a slight dread. 

Cutting through the silence, Taerae's eyes flicker over to Gunwook, a hint of worry etched across his features. “You sure you're okay with going tonight?” he probes gently, his voice filled with a sincere concern that makes Gunwook pause. The car slows at a stoplight, casting fleeting shadows across Taerae's face, highlighting his earnest expression.

“I think it’ll be fun,” Gunwook says as he tugs at the hem of his sleeve, trying to settle the restless energy that buzzes just beneath his skin. 

Taerae studies him for a moment longer, as if weighing the truth of Gunwook's words. “Gunwook, if you're worried about running into your old team tonight, it's completely okay to sit this one out.”

Gunwook feels a flutter of surprise at Taerae's perceptiveness. He hadn't realized how much of his internal struggle had been visible to others, especially not to Taerae, who always seemed wrapped up in his own world. Has his discomfort been that obvious? 

Despite the reassurance it was meant to provide, a thread of anxiety remains, woven tightly with memories of his old team. How does Taerae know about that? 

He looks out the window, watching the city blur past, as he gathers his thoughts. “I didn't realize I was being so transparent,” Gunwook admits, turning back to face Taerae, who keeps his eyes on the road, the faint glow of the dashboard illuminating his thoughtful expression.

Taerae gives a small shrug, the corners of his mouth tilting upwards in a half-smile. “You weren’t, really. But I guess... I just notice things. And, well, I know what it’s like to face people from your past.” Gunwook hums, curiosity piqued, but he doesn’t question further. “Whatever you decide about tonight, it's fine. I know it may seem super important, but no one will think less of you for skipping. It’s just a party, so who cares? It isn’t for everyone.”

Just then, Gunwook’s phone pings again and he pulls it out to find another text from Matthew: i’m almost ready!!! :3 wear something hot! it’s the first party of the semester !!!

────୨ৎ────

Bright lights strung across the backyard bathe the scene in a soft, warm glow, making the faces around him seem friendlier, their laughter more inviting. Gunwook navigates through clusters of chatting students, the buzz of conversations merging with the pulsating beats of dance music thumping from the speakers set up around the yard.

As he moves further into the party, he spots Ricky and Gyuvin surrounded by some of the older guys of the basketball team, deep in a debate that has many of them arguing passionately. 

“Gyuv! That’s how it should be,” Eunseok gasps. 

“No! Hyung, that’s so unfair!” Gyuvin gestures wildly, eliciting bursts of laughter from the group. Despite not being a drinker, he plays in really well with those around him, like Ricky, slightly less steady on his feet, who leans against the boy, his grin wide and infectious despite his evident tipsiness.

Gunwook makes his way over to them, receiving a hearty slap on the back from Taesan, who is more engaged with Gunwook than he has ever seen. “Wookie!” Gunwook raises an eyebrow …well , that’s new. 

“You made it!” Gyuvin exclaims, handing Gunwook a drink. Smiling, Gunwook accepts it. “You came just in time to prove Eunseok hyung wrong.”

Observing Eunseok rolling his eyes exasperatedly, Gunwook furrows his eyebrows. “On what?” He takes an experimental sip of his cup — whoa, it’s strong .

Eunseok then dives into an entire argument about something Gunwook has never heard of.  Gunwook fights the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and let out a dramatic sigh. Instead, he stands as a quiet observer as some of their other teammates lean against the wall to comment here and there. 

Gunwook actually feels a lot at ease. He hasn’t experienced anything bad yet, and the team is actually integrating him in slowly. Perhaps it’s this small, dumb thing that gives Gunwook that elation, a proof that his team’s supposed early impressions of Gunwook aren’t true anymore. 

“Wait, Gunwook!” Gyuvin interrupts, moving towards him to grasp his shoulders. “Where is Hao hyung? Didn’t he say he was gonna join us?” 

“He decided to stay back…” Gunwook winces. “Hyung and I tried to convince him but he was pretty adamant.”

Gyuvin pouts. “But is he okay?”

He's about to respond when a cheer erupts from the far end of the yard. Curious, they all turn to see what the commotion is about. There, amidst the playful cheers, stand Matthew and Hanbin playing a game Gunwook is familiar with.

Matthew, with his usual broad smile, is clearly in his element, taking a shot with the ball that arcs beautifully into the cup. The small crowd hollers and cheers in approval, and even from a distance, Gunwook can see the light of competition in Hanbin’s eyes as he high-fives Matthew, ready for his turn. It’s clear Hanbin is in better spirits than Gunwook assumed he’d be. In a way, it ticks him off, picturing Zhang Hao back in his apartment. But seeing the cup Hanbin is chugging, he deduces that maybe it’s the alcohol talking.

“What are they doing?” Gyuvin asks as Gunwook drinks from his cup, grimacing at the taste.

“Beer pong,” Ricky informs him.

Gyuvin furrows his eyebrows. “Beer what?”

“Have you never played?” Gunwook gasps.

Ricky stares at Gunwook incredulously, “Have you? ”

“Yeah,” Gunwook grins, chugging the rest of his drink with quick gulps. “I was the best at it last year.”

 “Are they playing against the soccer team?” Gyuvin chuckles. 

Ricky sips from his cup before shaking his head, “Apparently, we have been on a losing streak. Hyungs better up their game.”

Gunwook looks back at them, noticing the intense concentration on Matthew's face as he lines up his next shot. The ping pong ball hovers momentarily in the air before dropping squarely into one of the cups, causing the basketball side of the crowd to erupt in a fresh wave of cheers. Matthew throws his arms up in victory, a wide grin plastered across his face, while Hanbin high-fives him enthusiastically.

Gyuvin shakes his head, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Look at them, celebrating like they've won a championship,” he jokes, causing Ricky to giggle beside him. 

As the game winds down, Matthew and Hanbin make their way back to their group, their faces flushed from both the competition and the evening air. 

“Gunwookie!” Hanbin spots him, wrapping his arms around the younger boy’s waist excitedly. Gunwook stumbles in surprise before he returns the hug with a laugh. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Okay , so Hanbin is one of those drunks.

“Hey, hyung,” Gunwook greets, patting his head like he’s the younger one here.

“Gunwook! You should've seen us!” Matthew calls, his own excitement matching Hanbin's as he joins them. Gunwook nods, finding himself smiling as Matthew grabs onto his arm, looking up at him. 

Hanbin, clearly enjoying the buzz from the game and possibly a bit too much drink, tightens his grip around Gunwook, swaying slightly. “You wanna play?”

Gunwook feels the warmth of the alcohol flushing his cheeks as he contemplates joining the next round of beer pong. Just as he's about to nod in agreement, his eyes catch a familiar figure across the yard — a former teammate from KU, now laughing and tossing a ping pong ball with a cocky ease that stirs a knot in Gunwook's stomach.

A flurry of unwanted memories crashes into him, each one a sharp poke to his composure. He's back on the basketball court, back under those scrutinizing eyes, feeling like every move is a misstep.

Fuck . Gunwook feels the impulse to gag, to get out of here while he still can.

Gunwook's heart pounds against his ribcage, a drumming echo in his ears that nearly drowns out the laughter and chatter surrounding him. 

It hasn’t even been thirty minutes and he has already spotted someone he doesn’t want to see. Gunwook’s throat tightens as if constricted by invisible hands, his mind racing with escape plans. But fleeing isn't an option — not without raising questions he's not ready to answer.

He clenches his hand into a fist at his side, nails digging into his palms in an attempt to anchor himself to the moment, away from the rising tide of anxiety. Maybe still oblivious, Matthew tightens his hold on Gunwook’s arm, pouting to get an answer from him, but Gunwook inhales shakily. 

Okay, maybe this was a bad idea …The ease with which he'd walked into the party, the lightness with which he'd joked and laughed with his friends, feels like a mask that's beginning to crack. How could he have thought it would be simple? 

“Actually, I think I'll grab another drink first,” Gunwook excuses himself, eager to put some distance between him and the potential confrontation. Hanbin attaches himself to Gyuvin, who happily accepts the gesture. 

As Gunwook’s discomfort mounts, Matthew interjects. “I’ll come with you,” he says, his hand brushing lightly against Gunwook's arm, a fleeting touch that sends a gentle pulse through Gunwook's senses. But he quickly glances back at Gyuvin and Ricky, who are now propping up an increasingly tipsy Hanbin between them. “Got him covered?” Matthew asks, eyeing Hanbin’s slumped figure.

“We’re good, go ahead,” Gyuvin responds confidently, gripping Hanbin a bit more securely.

With a nod of gratitude, Matthew follows Gunwook, threading their way through the throng of lively students, the pulsating music fading as they step into the comparatively serene kitchen. The kitchen, with its dim lighting and the gentle clinking of glassware, offers a reprieve from the chaotic energy outside.

Matthew shuts the door behind them, the sounds of the party now muffled into a distant hum. He observes quietly as Gunwook opts for a bottle of water. 

“Everything okay?” Matthew probes gently, leaning against the closed fridge. 

Gunwook feels the tightness in his chest loosen slightly in the quiet of the kitchen, away from prying eyes. The cold water bottle feels grounding in his shaky hands.

“Yeah,” Gunwook shrugs. “You didn’t have to follow me. I’m doing fine,” he says. 

Scoffing, Matthew pushes himself away from the fridge to stand closer to Gunwook. “What if I wanted some water, too? You’re gonna kick me out?” 

Gunwook eyes Matthew’s empty hands and finds himself grinning, “Why don’t you grab one then?”

Matthew purses his lips, “I’m a little lazy,” he crosses his arms, bangs covering his eyes as Gunwook looks down to meet them. 

“Here,” Gunwook hands him his open water bottle. “Drink some then. Since you’re only here for water.” 

Whining — not uncharacteristic of him, but more exaggerated perhaps due to the alcohol — Matthew practically jumps forward to wrap around Gunwook. “You’re being unfair.”

Gunwook hums, entertained by this side of Matthew he had only observed with others. Matthew is a physical-touch person, but he never has been with Gunwook. As they’ve gotten to know each other better, Matthew has tried not to cross any boundaries, not sticking with him as he does to their other friends. 

But the thing is, Gunwook is a touchy person, too, when he wants to be. Maybe it’s a bit awkward to be so with Gyuvin, even though he doesn’t protest when the boy doesn’t tear away from him during practice. But he is never one averse to it. 

And this hug, one he hadn’t ever received before, gives Gunwook a comfort he so desperately needs to calm the insistent pounding of his heart. 

“Saw someone from KU,” he murmurs, staring somewhere, everywhere, other than the boy attached to him. 

The words taste bitter, and he regrets them as soon as they leave his mouth. He doesn’t want to talk about it; he doesn’t even want to think about it. But it’s like a shadow he can’t shake off, a dark cloud that has followed him from one school to another, one party to the next.

“Do you want to hang out here for a while?” Matthew asks — always the accommodating type, the one willing to adapt just to make sure someone else is comfortable. 

His big, round eyes look up at Gunwook, as if gauging his every reaction. Gunwook shakes his head slowly, the chill from the bottle seeping into his palm, soothing the flush of his cheeks. 

“It’s okay,” he decides, focusing on Matthew’s blond hair, its curls illuminated by the light from outside. He won’t delve into the messy details, the accusations, the fights. Not yet. Maybe not ever . What he needs right now is to not feel like he’s back at KU, back in the middle of chaos he thought he’d left behind. “Give me a minute and we can go back.”

Satisfied, Matthew doesn’t say much else, simply nodding and resting his cheek against Gunwook’s chest. He hiccups, but doesn’t tear away. 

As Gunwook takes a deep sip from his water bottle, trying to still the tremor in his hands, the kitchen door swings open abruptly. A man strides in, his focus momentarily pinned on his phone. Gunwook’s heart stutters as recognition dawns. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck . Why now? He should have listened to himself, he shouldn’t have come.

Gunwook feels his thoughts spiral, in the way they do when his anxiety gets the best of him, the alcohol encouraging.

Carefully dislodging himself from Matthew, he turns away quickly, hoping for invisibility, but it’s too late. The man looks up just as Matthew notices the tension coiling tighter in Gunwook’s posture. “Gunwook?” Matthew’s voice is low, filled with concern, but the man’s sharp call cuts through any reply.

“ Gunwook , is that you?” 

Hyunwoo’s tone is incredulous, as if he’s stumbled upon a ghost rather than a person he used to know. He steps closer, his expression shifting from surprise to something harder to read. Gunwook feels the walls of the kitchen shrink, the air growing denser around him.

Hyunwoo stops, his eyes flicking between Matthew and Gunwook. “I didn’t expect to see you here, of all places,” he says to Gunwook, his voice a mix of confusion and something darker. “How has our star player been?”

He’s drunk, so drunk that Gunwook won’t be able to predict what he may do and Gunwook doesn’t want to deal with this — not now, not at all. But there’s nowhere to escape in the cramped kitchen, and he feels every exit route blocked off as the man’s presence looms larger.

Matthew steps slightly in front of Gunwook, not confrontational but clearly protective. “Can we help you?” he asks, his voice calm but firm. Gunwook would be appreciative if only his heart wasn’t thumping, because he isn’t prepared for this. He isn’t.

Perhaps recognizing Matthew, Hyunwoo's sneer deepens. “SNU, huh? Really shows where your loyalties lie, Gunwook,” Hyunwoo taunts, stepping closer still. 

Surprising himself, “What does it matter? It’s not like I’m part of KU anymore,” Gunwook retorts, his voice laced with defiance but wavering.

“And whose fault is that? Assaulting a teammate doesn't exactly scream innocence. Really shows where SNU's morals lie,” Hyunwoo continues, his tone accusatory and cold. Fear grips him tighter with each word Hyunwoo spits, fear not just of the confrontation but of the judgments that might follow from Matthew, who has only known him in the context of SNU, not the tangled mess of his past.

Inside Gunwook's head, a storm brews as he faces Hyunwoo. His stomach churns with anxiety, thoughts racing. Please, don't let Matthew hear this. He can't think I'm... His plea is silent, desperate. 

“Assault? Is that the story you’re spreading?” Gunwook challenges, his anger rising despite the shake in his voice. The implications are severe, and he feels the old scars of those accusations itch with fresh urgency.

Not expecting it, Matthew grabs onto Gunwook’s arm again, grip tight and steady and Gunwook's chest tightens. Matthew's presence, a silent, uncertain shadow just a few feet away, only intensifies Gunwook's panic. 

Please, just go. Don't listen to this, Gunwook silently pleads, not wanting Matthew to witness any more of this ugly past that Gunwook has fought so hard to move beyond.

“It’s true,” Hyunwoo's voice slurs, his face too close, his breath heavy with alcohol. Gunwook can almost feel the disdain dripping from every word, echoing around the small kitchen. The chuckle that follows is like acid on Gunwook's nerves.

“Shut up!” Gunwook's outburst is more desperate now, a sharp, ragged edge to his voice, begging for an end to this. But Hyunwoo’s smirk only widens as he leans in closer. “It doesn’t concern you at all!”

“I think our captain being assaulted by a freshman, and then said freshman crying lies to the coach should rightfully concern me.” Hyunwoo spits back, dismissing Matthew with a glance. Matthew flinches, the impact of the words clear on his face. His voice lowers into a taunt, “A liar. That’s what you are. Do they know what you did?” 

But Gunwook's breath catches as he spots figures at the kitchen doorway — Hanbin, Gyuvin, and Ricky. They stand there, their expressions a mix of shock and concern. 

It’s impossible to think otherwise — they heard . It’s karma, it must be. The harsh coincidence of their arrival at this exact moment.

Even with his flushed cheeks, Hanbin's eyes narrow as he takes in the scene, the tension palpable in his stance. But, Gyuvin's face registers shock, the light from the outside casting shadows that accentuate his furrowed brow. Gunwook, feeling the weight of all eyes upon him, squeezes his eyes shut, wishing he could vanish. 

Hyunwoo straightens up, his smirk fading into a cautious scowl. “Got the whole team fooled , don’t you?”

At that moment, Matthew steps forward. “How about you step away, yeah?” Matthew suggests, his tone gentle yet firm enough to convey the seriousness of his request. “We wouldn’t want something to happen right before the season starts.”

Hyunwoo rolls his eyes in disdain, his glare sharp as it cuts through the tension before he finally turns and stalks off. “This isn’t over,” he throws over his shoulder, his words hanging ominously in the air.

Matthew, Gyuvin, Ricky, and Hanbin all stand frozen, each processing the confrontation in their own way. Matthew’s mouth opens, likely to offer some words of comfort, but Gunwook isn’t ready to hear any of it.

Feeling a suffocating tightness in his chest, Gunwook turns abruptly, unable to bear the concerned looks of his friends. He needs space, air, something to cool the heat of embarrassment and anger simmering within him. Without a word, he exits through the sliding door to the front of the house, leaving the muffled sounds of the party behind.

Outside, the cool night air greets him like a balm as Gunwook's steps slow when he approaches a small, ornamental pond set near the entrance. The soft gurgle of the water flowing and the occasional flicker of fish beneath the surface provide a momentary distraction. He sits on a small stone bench, his reflection ghostly on the water's surface. 

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, the alcohol disturbing his perception of time. He's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't hear Matthew approach until he's sitting beside him on the cold stone bench. Gunwook can't bring himself to look up, to face the concern he knows he'll find in Matthew’s eyes, fearing it might ruin him completely.

The silence stretches between them, punctuated only by the soft murmur of the water and the distant laughter from the party they've left behind. Matthew's presence next to Gunwook on the small stone bench is a quiet assertion of solidarity, but Gunwook can't bring himself to meet his gaze. The soft glow of the garden lights flickers across the pond, casting shimmering reflections that dance on the water's surface.

Matthew tries to catch Gunwook's eyes, a gentle, encouraging smile playing on his lips, but Gunwook’s gaze remains firmly fixed on the ground. His heart pounds loudly in his ears. Shame, fear, and a myriad of other emotions churn inside him, making it impossible to look at Matthew.

Matthew's hand, warm and reassuring, finds its way onto Gunwook’s, resting there with a light but firm touch. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft but filled with concern.

Gunwook hums in response, his voice low and non-committal. He's not ready to dive into the swirling mess of his thoughts, but Matthew's presence is a silent anchor in the storm. 

After a moment, Gunwook turns to look at him, meeting Matthew’s gaze. The warmth and understanding in Matthew’s eyes squeeze Gunwook’s heart. It’s a look devoid of judgment, filled instead with a kindness he feels unworthy of.

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper. The admission feels like a defeat, but also a relief, as if saying it out loud might alleviate some of the burden he's been carrying alone.

Matthew, perhaps, is the only person who Gunwook feels might never see the worst in him. Whether that's a gift or a flaw, Gunwook isn't sure, but it's undeniably rare and precious. This realization, this feeling of being seen and not judged, tightens Gunwook’s throat, and he finds himself fighting back a sniffle.

Does Matthew view him as someone worth that kindness, or is it just a general benevolence he extends to everyone? The distinction matters deeply to Gunwook, who has always felt too much, too soon, and fears the vulnerability that comes with it.

As they sit side by side, Matthew's voice is a soft murmur meant to comfort. “I won't press if you don't want to talk, but know I'm here for you,” he offers gently. 

Before Gunwook can process these words fully, Matthew intertwines their fingers, his touch grounding and unexpectedly intense. It's the contact he didn't realize he needed until this very moment, as his eyes threaten to betray his turmoil with tears.

Feeling vulnerable, Gunwook surrenders to the comfort that Matthew provides, allowing him to hold onto him. “We won’t judge you for anything,” Matthew assures him quietly, his grip firm yet caring. 

Gunwook doesn't respond verbally, overwhelmed by the sincerity in Matthew's tone. Instead, he focuses on the sensation of Matthew's thumb gently rubbing his palm, a deliberate, soothing motion that helps slow his racing thoughts and calm his breathing.

“Yeah,” Gunwook finally murmurs in acknowledgment, his voice a whisper lost in the tranquility of the night around them. The simple word carries with it an ocean of gratitude and a silent plea for the understanding that Matthew already promises.

The quiet moment is soon interrupted by the sound of yells and footsteps approaching. Gunwook looks up to see Ricky and Gyuvin emerging from the house, supporting a tipsy Hanbin between them. The sight of his friends brings a strange mix of relief and anxiety back into Gunwook's heart.

“What happened?” Matthew asks, worried by their urgent pace.

“A KU student broke a window, and Keeho and his club are really mad,” Gyuvin explains, glancing back at the house. “It’s best if we get out of here before things get worse.”

“Are you serious?” Matthew practically scoffs. “KU is officially dead , oh my god.” And Gunwook shares the sentiment. It’s really best if they leave. 

“I don’t want to go,” Hanbin pouts. 

Ricky adjusts his grip on the captain. “Hyung, I didn’t believe Hao hyung when he said that you could get like this after a couple of drinks, but…” he shakes his head. “I completely understand how you managed to climb that pole.”

“Huh?”  Hanbin narrows his eyes with confusion, the words not processing. But then Hanbin frowns with wide eyes. “Hao hyung talked about me? What did he say? Did he text you?”

Gunwook rubs his forehead with his free hand. “Gods help me,” he mutters. A bit reminiscent of that time in the cafe, Matthew glances at him, amused. 

“Well, Hao hyung is around the corner in Taerae hyung’s car,” Gyuvin enunciates, trying to lead Hanbin out. But it does the complete opposite. 

“No!” Hanbin says with a tone Gunwook has never heard before. “He doesn’t want to see me.” 

Ricky sighs exasperatedly, “ Hyung . You can make up with him later,” he stresses. “Let’s go before a KU student decides to reel us into their mess.” 

At his word, Matthew stands up, lightly pulling Gunwook up from the bench. “Come on, then,” he says. 

But then Matthew’s grip leaves Gunwook’s hand as the boy rushes to grab onto Hanbin to help Ricky out. Gunwook’s hand instantly feels cold, stuffing it into his pocket to get any semblance of warmth. 

Always the observant one, Gyuvin steps towards him with a hesitant smile. “Gunwookie,” he mumbles, gulping. The nickname sends a blush to Gunwook’s already reddened face, making him anxious. “No matter what happened earlier, just know that…that you’re part of our team now. Whatever happened before doesn’t translate here. You have to know that.” 

Shivering down his spine with each word, Gunwook lightly gasps, the action hidden when Gyuvin rushes forward to envelope Gunwook in his arms. Gyuvin isn’t drunk, and hasn't consumed a single drop of alcohol, so knowing that this is something Gyuvin feels with his true heart, Gunwook gives in. 

“I’m sorry,” Gunwook whispers into Gyuvin’s ear, who pulls away just in time to shake his head. 

“Shut up. Don’t say sorry,” he lectures, and Gunwook is going to respond with disagreement when Ricky calls for them. 

“They’re here!” Ricky says, voice almost hidden by the chatter of people now coming out from the front door of the house, a consequence of the supposed window breaking event. 

All five boys rush outside past the wooden gate onto the streets of Seoul, walking to the corner of the street in anticipation of meeting with their hyungs. Spotting Taerae’s car, Gunwook exhales in relief. He’s one step closer to getting home, back in his bed where he can sleep all of this off. 

Zhang Hao sits in the passenger seat, rolling down his window to address them. “Come on,” he motions with his head. 

Perhaps not being able to hold back when spotting him, Hanbin whines and steps closer to the car window. “Hyung! I’m sorry!”

Gunwook sighs, grabbing onto Hanbin again when he almost stumbles. 

Zhang Hao looks up at Hanbin with a hint of surprise before he addresses the other boys behind him. “Ricky, Gyuvin, you guys head on home. It’s a ten minute walk, right?” Ricky nods in confirmation, already back by Gyuvin’s side. “Okay, Matthew, you guys can stay with us tonight.” Hearing this, Hanbin pouts.

Matthew nods with a smile, taking Gunwook’s place to hold onto Hanbin. “Come on hyung, we can go home tomorrow. We’ll just sleep on their couch tonight,” Matthew explains to him. 

Gunwook, already done with the night, doesn’t wait any longer to open the car door and collapse in the back seat. Taerae looks back at him from the driver’s seat with a frown and Zhang Hao pats Gunwook’s head from where he can reach. “You good, baby?” 

“Yeah,” Gunwook says without explanation. He will wait until they’re back home, back where the others can’t see him break down. “We can talk at home. Please?”

“We will take our leave!” Gyuvin says, intertwining his arm with Ricky’s as they start to head down the street. “Good night!” Hanbin mumbles the farewell back, letting Matthew lead him inside the car after him.  

Settling in the middle seat, Matthew fastens Hanbin’s seatbelt. “Thanks so much,” he directs to the boys in the front of the car, who glance back at them with worry. 

“Did something happen?” Zhang Hao asks, but his voice sparks another fire in Hanbin. 

“Hyung,” Hanbin whines again. “I’m sorry.” 

Exhaling, Zhang Hao doesn’t look back when he says, “Hanbin-ah, we can talk tomorrow.”

Gunwook closes his eyes, leaning against the window. The need to gag is still prominent, not from the alcohol but from his nerves. His anxiety used to always show itself in different ways, with his sleep and hunger…but these days, all he feels sometimes is how he feels now. He grips onto his pants with a tight hand, ears tuning out from the conversation as he tries to steady his focus. 

This entire night, as short as it has been, has already been too much for Gunwook to bear. He doesn’t know what would have happened if Matthew wasn’t there to stop Hyunwoo from doing something. 

It’s more nerve wracking finally knowing what his old team still thinks of him. As someone capable of assault? Gunwook bites the inside of his cheek.

He isn’t. Gunwook will swear up and down that it didn’t happen like that. Not at all . He wants to correct it, to scream about how it really went. But he can’t. He can’t because he doesn’t know how others will interpret it — whether they’ll see it as Gunwook does. 

Flinching lightly when the car begins to move and Hanbin’s quiet ranting to himself fades into the background, Gunwook tries hard to distract himself, looking outside. But the fast lights and colors dizzy him, making him feel even worse. 

A hand comes to tap his thigh. 

Matthew is watching him with an analyzing eye. “Okay?” he whispers simply, and Gunwook doesn’t think he can open his mouth without actually gagging, so he nods instead. 

His reaction might not be enough to ease Matthew’s curiosity because he frowns and Gunwook feels guilty. This entire night Matthew has been so giving, so considerate and Gunwook continues to worry him. He doesn’t deserve this. 

But Gunwook is greedy, he’s selfish. So he places his hand on top of Matthew’s, as if to force that comfort to stay with him, to keep it from leaving. It’s that steadiness Gunwook needs, has been after for the longest. And maybe it’s easy to find it in Matthew, or maybe Gunwook is so desperate to find it in anyone, but he needs this now. He needs this now when he can’t reach out to any of his other hyungs. 

It’s different, Gunwook knows. It’s not a bad thing, not at all. But…it’s different. That doesn’t make it any clearer, but Gunwook sees it as enough explanation for himself, leaning his head back on the head rest. 

By the time they arrive at the apartment, it takes a while to get all three drunk boys up in one piece. Zhang Hao tries his hardest to deflect every one of Hanbin’s drunk pleas, promising to speak to him first thing in the morning when Hanbin isn’t crying all over himself. It’s a bit difficult to watch it happen, but Zhang Hao isn’t outright mad, and Hanbin is apparently known for acting drunk like this when things like this happen. 

So as Taerae and Zhang Hao try to get Hanbin to rest on the couch, Gunwook beelines for the kitchen instead, in search of some reprieve. He knows chugging water drunk like this probably isn’t a good idea, but he needs it more than he realizes. 

Gulping down his cup of water, Gunwook almost doesn’t see Matthew walk up next to him. This time, instead of the kitchen back at the party, they’re in Gunwook’s kitchen, silent as the quiet mumbles of the trio in the living room are provided as a backdrop. 

“Here for some water?” Matthew asks as he brushes his fingers through his own hair. 

Trying for some lightheartedness, Gunwook waves his cup. “In a cup this time,” he replies, eliciting a smile from Matthew. 

Although already looking tired, Matthew decides to stay as he leans against the countertop. “Will you sleep?” The question is a bit odd to Gunwook. Because, of course he will sleep, he is practically dead on his feet.

“In a bit,” Gunwook places his cup in the sink before standing across from Matthew against the other countertop. He crosses his arms, mind still fuzzy. “Will you?”

Matthew hums, looking down at his shoes. “Yeah.” 

When Matthew doesn’t say more, his curiosity gets the better of Gunwook. “Why ask?” 

“Just wanted to see how you’re doing,” Matthew says. Gunwook pauses, unsure what to say. 

Maybe tomorrow Gunwook can blame the alcohol, maybe he can blame his sleep deprivation. But now, Gunwook is helpless as his words spill out of him. 

“You’re too kind, hyung,” Gunwook decides, voice wavering. He looks away when Matthew searches his expression. “You’re always caring when I’ve done nothing in return.” 

“Do you need to do something in return?” Matthew says back. “You haven’t done anything wrong in my eyes. Like I said, I won’t ask, none of us will. Because we know you as you are now.”

But the thing is, none of them truly know him. Gunwook curses internally. 

It’s no one’s fault but his. 

“But you don’t,” Gunwook whispers, hoping that Matthew doesn’t catch it. 

But he does, tsk-ing in disagreement. “Gunwook,” Matthew starts. He takes a step forward with pinched eyebrows, more out of concern than anything else. “Have I done something wrong?”

It’s this question that gives Gunwook whiplash. “No, not at all,” he rushes, slurring. “Hyung, you never have.” 

“Then, do you think I don’t deserve kindness? From you? From anyone else?” Matthew continues. 

Kindness. It’s so trivial. It’s so unimportant as a word in the long run. 

But Gunwook isn’t sober, maybe he’s just tipsy at this point. And now stuck in a kitchen with Matthew, lights dimmed and expression hidden from scrutiny, Gunwook can’t keep his usual composure. 

“I don’t know, hyung,” Gunwook quavers, stuffing his face in his hands. Then, he lets it slip, “I just don’t know if it’s because I deserve it…or if it’s just how you are.” 

As soon as he says it, Gunwook regrets it. He can imagine how it can be taken. Taking his hands away, scared shitless, Gunwook imagines Matthew being angry, perhaps offended, but what he actually gets is the opposite. 

“Gunwook,” Matthew mutters, a tear glistening down his cheek. This makes Gunwook panic, taking a step forward to meet Matthew in the middle of the kitchen. “What happened? Who did this to you?”

“What…” Gunwook stops, chest rising and falling with each sharp breath. “Don’t cry.”

But Matthew shakes his head, grabbing onto Gunwook’s wrist. “You’re kind, too. You’re nice, you’re quiet sometimes, you help on the court, you’re polite, you can be funny when you want to. I see how you help the hyungs, how you stick with Ricky and Gyuvin. You’re a good person. Why can’t you see that?”

Because it’s a curtain, a mask, hiding the shadow that sticks to his back. Gunwook feels his chest tighten and tighten, his throat choking up the words he wants to use to retort back. And maybe Matthew is right, maybe Gunwook is a little too harsh on himself. 

But he can’t help it. When your entire team turns their back on you, when every person you relied on leaves you…Gunwook can’t help but believe every word they spit at him. Because he deserved it. Right?

But here Matthew is, having seen first hand Gunwook’s old teammate yell at him, accuse him…and he’s still here asking if Gunwook will sleep. 

Every will he had left to keep himself together unravels, his face wrinkling as the first tears betray him. Matthew wastes no time to hug him, wrapping his arms around Gunwook to comfort him. The touch is soothing, more charged than the hug Matthew had gifted him earlier. 

And now, Gunwook feels himself melt against him, skin tingling and brain turning to mush as everything from this night crashes into him. 

“It’s okay,” Matthew rubs his back. “You’re okay. You’ll feel better tomorrow, yeah? Everything is okay.” 

They could be empty words, ones used to get Gunwook under control, but Gunwook wants to believe them. He does . He wants it to be true. He wants to belong, to be cared for, to care back without being seen as a nuisance. 

And as Gunwook’s breath begins to steady, all he can think about is… He fits perfectly in my arms . 

Chapter Text

The next morning comes with a headache and regret. 

By the time Gunwook finds himself awake to greet the sun, it’s half past noon. He struggles for a while to open his eyes and throw his legs over the side of the bed to get up. And when he means struggle, he means struggle . 

Fuck . His head throbs and throbs, cradling it with clenched eyes. He hasn’t had a hangover like this since he first started drinking at the beginning of last year. He usually is one to handle his alcohol well, but perhaps with how everything turned out last night, he shouldn’t be too surprised. 

Hesitating to leave his bedroom, Gunwook can faintly recall how last night ended. He remembers how he rushed back to his room after that moment with Matthew in the kitchen, too embarrassed to stay there any longer. He remembers putting on his pajamas with tear stained cheeks and reddened eyes. He remembers feeling sick to his stomach, rushing to the bathroom as he hurled. 

He remembers when he felt hands come to rub the back of his neck and he knew it was Zhang Hao who heard him from outside. Wordlessly, Zhang Hao helped him clean up, not prying nor insisting that Gunwook speak to him then. He didn’t seem judgmental either, simply worried at the sight of Gunwook’s pale face and clenched fists. 

He was put to bed carefully and now is awake with memories he wants to forget. 

Looking at the stuffed bear Matthew had won him thrown carelessly on the edge of his bed, Gunwook feels at a loss. How could he break down like that in front of Matthew? How can he be so weak to not stand up for himself with Hyunwoo? He blames the alcohol. It was the alcohol. He knows he can be stronger. He knows…

As he stares at the bear, the events of the night before replay in his mind, each memory a reminder of his perceived failures. The confrontation with Hyunwoo, the vulnerable moment with Matthew, the silent support from his friends — each detail feels like a weight on his chest. The embarrassment of breaking down in front of Matthew gnaws at him, a relentless reminder of his vulnerability.

Gunwook stands up, his legs shaky, and takes a deep breath. He knows he can't stay in his room forever, wallowing in regret. He needs to face his friends, to find some semblance of normalcy. Maybe Zhang Hao is up and about, maybe he can talk to Taerae, or maybe, just maybe, he can find a way to see Matthew without feeling a wave of shame wash over him.

Voices from the kitchen lure Gunwook out, as well as the delicious smell of food that has Gunwook’s stomach grumbling. He’s a lot hungrier than he usually would be during his hangovers. His body must be so exhausted. 

“Gunwook?” Zhang Hao’s voice calls from the kitchen. Gunwook walks in through the entryway, rubbing his eyes to rid them of sleep. “You up now?”

Gunwook nods with a groan, collapsing into the chair at the counter island. “Yes,” he grumbles before inhaling to recollect himself. He spots Taerae’s amused expression and sighs. “Thanks by the way, for helping last night.” 

“You don’t need to thank us,” Zhang Hao takes a sip from his coffee cup, Taerae nodding in agreement from where he is applying jam on his bagel. “I’m happy to help you so you get home in one piece.” 

Gunwook purses his lips, accepting the coffee that Zhang Hao hands him with a smile. As he intakes the scalding liquid, he suddenly remembers the other two men who were in the apartment last night. 

From where he sits, Gunwook turns back to look in the living room for any sign of the two boys. But he sees nothing and Zhang Hao must have noticed, informing, “They left before we woke up.” He sounds a bit dejected, but he hides his expression behind his mug. 

Taerae comes to sit down next to Gunwook with his bagel already half eaten. “Matthew-ah woke me up just to say they were leaving,” he grumbles. “A text would have sufficed at six in the morning .”

Gunwook feels a pang of disappointment. He had hoped to see Matthew before he left, to maybe thank him properly for last night and perhaps to reassure himself that he hadn’t completely messed things up between them. The memory of Matthew’s comforting presence, the way he had held Gunwook’s hand, lingers in his mind, both a solace and a source of confusion.

“Why’d they leave so early?” Gunwook questions with furrowed brows. But deep down, he feels a bit glad. After last night, now sober and coherent, he wouldn’t know how to approach Matthew. It shouldn’t be awkward. There isn’t anything that warrants an issue with Matthew. But Gunwook is embarrassed and he will do anything to avoid breaching that subject… for now. 

Taerae glances quickly at an expressionless Zhang Hao, his fingers tapping lightly on the counter. “I can think of a few reasons.”

“Hyung?” Gunwook directs to Zhang Hao, his curiosity piquing.

Zhang Hao exhales, hesitance weighing his shoulders down. He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding Gunwook's gaze. “I’ll text him later,” he dismisses. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Taerae shrugs, deeming that explanation enough. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “As long as their practices don’t become off-limits because you would rather never go to them again,” he widens his eyes to emphasize his point, “then all good.”

“You know you can still go without me to talk to that coach of yours?” Zhang Hao rolls his eyes. 

Incredulously, Taerae scoffs, dropping his bagel onto his plate, “Bitch, if a boy becomes off-limits, so does everyone he knows. What kind of friend would I be if I bypassed that?”

Finding an opportunity to interject, Gunwook looks between the pair with a feigned panic. “What does that mean for me?” 

Seeing Gunwook’s wide eyes, Zhang Hao bursts into laughter. “Sorry, baby, but you’re gonna have to start packing,” Zhang Hao nods with faux sympathy, patting the boy’s messy bed hair. 

His heart bursting from the playful affection, Gunwook brushes the hand away with a poorly concealed pout. “Just say I’m a bad roommate and you want me gone.”

“Actually, you’re better than our last one,” Taerae reveals absentmindedly. 

Grimacing as if the memory is too much to bear, Zhang Hao says, “Please don’t remind me.”

“ What? Minho was amazing!” Taerae enunciates sarcastically. 

Inquisitive about their quick reactions, Gunwook questions, “What did he do?” 

“Oh, he was only the straightest and most homophobic person on this planet,” Taerae explains monotonously as he wipes his fingers with a napkin, bagel gone. Gunwook grimaces, imagining a dude like that living in the same space as him. “Which sucks for him ‘cause he managed to live with two of the gayest motherfuckers on this campus.” 

“Debatable,” Zhang Hao mutters, leaning against the counter across from them. Taerae stares at Zhang Hao, dumbfounded. 

“ What part of that is debatable? Have you looked in the mirror?” 

Gunwook laughs, “How long did you live with him?”

“A year and a half,” Zhang Hao says, his tone exasperated. “Longest eighteen months of my life.” 

“By some miracle, he dropped out and went back home,” Taerae puts his hands together as if praying to the sky. “A miracle, a miracle , I’m telling you! This apartment never felt gayer.” 

“Why do you have to say it like that?” Zhang Hao shakes his head, amused. 

With a faux resigned sigh, “But now the gay aura has been suppressed,” Taerae nods his head with a motion towards Gunwook. 

Gunwook gasps internally. Excuse me??? It can’t be…There’s no way they think-

“Hey, don’t be mean!” Zhang Hao laughs, the sound loud as it rings through the apartment. “Don’t become the oppressor.” 

“I’ve been oppressed long enough ,” Taerae raises a singular eyebrow in defiance. 

Mouth gaping now in shock, Gunwook sputters, “Huh?”

Zhang Hao, completely misunderstanding Gunwook’s confusion, pats his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

“No. Wait. What do you mean suppressed? ” Gunwook emphasizes, a hint of desperation in his voice.. 

Face morphing with the realization, Taerae intones, “You're joking!”

Feeling utterly betrayed, Gunwook shakes his head, “Hyung. I can’t believe you. Oppressed on oppressed crime.”

It’s insane — but also not — that they didn’t know. If anything, Gunwook would be surprised if they could tell right from the bat. But being straight and suppressing the gay aura (as Taerae has now called it) is not something Gunwook is an expert at. Not at all. Gunwook's mind races, trying to process the chaotic conversation around him. He never thought he’d be in a situation where he had to clarify his own sexual orientation in such a convoluted manner. The absurdity of the moment almost makes him laugh, despite the lingering discomfort from last night.

Zhang Hao scoffs before pointing at Taerae, “I told you your gaydar is shit.” 

“Excuse me? My gaydar? Not yours ?”  Taerae shoots back, leaning forward and jabbing a finger in Zhang Hao's direction. “Aren’t you the one that insisted Hanbin hyung was straight for months ?”

“You can’t blame me! He plays basketball,” Zhang Hao explains sheepishly, raising his hands. “I thought the stereotypes won this time.” 

“That entire team is a fruit basket,” Taerae shakes his head. “Not even the school’s wrestling team,” Taerae pauses in thought, tapping his chin. “Well actually, now that I think about it, the things Jeonghyeon says sometimes about what happens after those practices…” 

As if he has selective hearing, “The entire team?” Gunwook doubts. 

He didn’t know there was more. He actually thought the SNU team had the same energy as the KU team when it came to this. But it’s not like Gunwook to assume . Gunwook only knows about three of the guys there — Gyuvin, Ricky, and Hanbin. But the rest?? Are they in the room with us right now? 

Gunwook takes a moment to process this. It’s a stark contrast to the environment he was used to at KU, where things like this were often hidden or brushed under the rug. The openness here feels liberating, even if it’s a bit jarring at first.

Dramatically, Taerae nods to him as if confirming, “Yup. Your gaydar is fucked up, too. Most of them are open, way too open sometimes.”

“I-I knew about Gyuvin and Ricky,” Gunwook stammers, feeling a bit flustered. He had been so preoccupied with his own struggles and the dynamics within the team that he hadn’t really considered the broader picture. It's strange, almost surreal, to think about the different layers of his teammates' lives that he's just beginning to understand.

“They don’t count, everyone and their mom knows about them.”

Zhang Hao laughs, shaking his head. “Oh, sweet summer child. There’s so much you don’t know.”

“Well,” Gunwook racks his brain. “Wait…uhm.”

“I told you,” Taerae complains, before clicking his lips together. “Dammit. You could’ve told us about all the drama in there.”

“Drama? There’s no drama,” Gunwook tilts his head. At least…he doesn’t think there is? 

“If the wrestling team can have that much drama when most of them stick to girls, then I’m sure our basketball team will have more,” Taerae retorts. 

Zhang Hao stands up to place his dishes in the sink. “Actually I might have some insider information from Hanbin,” he starts with an inflection in his tone, and immediately, Gunwook and Taerae snap their heads at attention. But Zhang Hao points at them sternly, “This doesn’t leave this room, you hear me?” 

Taerae rolls his eyes, “Obviously,” with Gunwook nodding in agreement instantly. Screw him…even Gunwook loves a bit of drama here and there, and if Zhang Hao has the details, then he knows he will get the most extensive recap he could get. Well…

“Okay,” Zhang Hao clears his throat, returning to his position across from them. “A couple of weeks ago, like right when the semester started, one of the guys on the team approached Hanbin and asked if they could talk. And Hanbin said he thought it would be about practice or maybe a dispute with another teammate, and after practice they talked outside.”

Unsatisfied, Taerae stops him, “Wait, wait. Context! Name? Age? Shoe size? Favorite color? Your storytelling skills have worsened, my god.” Gunwook simply follows his words, trying to piece together the vague picture of it to mind.  Taerae is right…at this point they need the man’s birth certificate. 

“Shut up. Hanbin didn’t say,” Zhang Hao crosses his arms, disappointed. “Only that it was someone that was on the team last year, and hadn’t ever really talked to Hanbin before outside of practice.” Ignoring Taerae’s disgruntled expression, Zhang Hao resumes, “When they talked, the guy asked Hanbin if he could give him some advice. And Hanbin being Hanbin went ‘Sure! What do you need?’, thinking it would be about extra practice or maybe getting him to talk to the coach for him. But instead of that, the guy went on this tangent about this other guy on the team and how much he likes him and how he wants to talk to him more.” 

Gunwook's eyes widen, feeling a mix of surprise and intrigue. He can almost picture the scene — a nervous teammate, probably wringing his hands, pouring his heart out to Hanbin.

“What is Hanbin? A marriage counselor?” 

Snapping his fingers, Gunwook proposes with full sincerity, “Was it Ricky?” Because it definitely sounds like him. 

“That’s what I said!” Zhang Hao exclaims before running his hand through his hair. “But Hanbin looked at me and said, ‘Don’t you think I’ve already tried to talk to Ricky about that?’ and left it at that. So I just asked why he would even go to Hanbin in the first place if they’ve never really talked like that outside of practice. And the guy had said that Hanbin knows him really well .”

Smacking the countertop, Taerae grins like he figured it out. “I know that talk. He likes Hanbin, doesn’t he?”

“I said that, too!” Zhang Hao yells before softening, “But Hanbin got all shy and assured me that that wasn’t the case.” 

“Poor Hanbin hyung almost had a heart attack,” Taerae laughs, covering his mouth with his hand as he tries to stifle his amusement.

“Then who was it?” Gunwook mumbles, trying to think about every interaction between his teammates. It’s like he’s been exposed to a whole world now with this new information. 

Zhang Hao dramatically looks around the kitchen as if there might be someone else hiding to overhear their conversation. With a cupped hand around his mouth, he leans in and whispers, “Matthew.”

The name sends a chill down Gunwook’s spine, catching him completely off guard. He didn’t think he’d have to think about Matthew for at least another day or two, but now, with this revelation, he’s more shocked than anything else. Someone likes Matthew? Someone on the team? Who could it be?

Laughing almost hysterically, Taerae nearly falls off his chair. “No way! Matthew?”

“Yep,” Zhang Hao confirms with a wide smile, clearly entertained by the situation. “I just laughed in Hanbin’s face and said, ‘And this is surprising why?’”

Gunwook’s eyes widen in disbelief. “It’s not surprising?”

Observing Gunwook’s shocked expression, Taerae deadpans, “Are you being serious right now?”

Gunwook feels a mix of confusion and curiosity, his mind replaying every moment he’s seen Matthew interact with the team. Could he have missed something so obvious? The thought that someone could have feelings for Matthew makes him strangely uneasy, but he can't pinpoint why.

“Y-Yes?” Gunwook says hesitantly, feeling small under the disbelieving eyes of his two hyungs. “Did I miss something?”

Zhang Hao’s jaw drops. “Oh my god,” he shakes his head. “You really are blind.” 

“Hyung, you’re not making any sense,” Gunwook furrows his eyebrows, genuinely perplexed. “Why is it not surprising that someone likes Matthew?”

Taerae places his head in his hand, leaning on the counter as if the weight of Gunwook’s ignorance is too much to bear. “Because everybody does, at least once. Have you not? Don’t lie.” 

“ No ?” Gunwook denies with surprise, cheeks flushing. He thinks about Matthew and how nice of a person he is. But that's just who he is. Nice. And that’s what Gunwook admires in a person. Admires. That’s all . “Have you? ” 

“It was a lapse in judgment, okay?” Taerae mutters defensively before he coughs into his elbow, avoiding Gunwook’s eyes.

When Gunwook turns to Zhang Hao for his answer, Zhang Hao steals Gunwook’s mug to take a sip in lieu of a confirmation. “Oh my god,” Gunwook says, genuinely shocked, before he pauses, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “But isn’t Matthew straight?” 

“Go pack your bags, Park Gunwook. This apartment is not gay enough. There’s only space for two of us to have a fucked up gaydar,” Taerae deadpans, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know,” Zhang Hao laughs, terribly entertained by Gunwook’s surprise. And Gunwook is about to explain himself before Zhang Hao perks up, “But see? Matthew is a gym bro and a basketball player, and by translation, me not noticing that Hanbin is gay isn’t my fault!” 

Taerae looks at Zhang Hao with disbelief. “Hyung, I’ll never doubt your ability to bring Hanbin into every conversation.” 

“He was already in the conversation,” Zhang Hao huffs defensively. 

“Not about everyone liking Matthew,” Taerae disagrees before smirking. “Unless Hanbin hyung liked Matthew, too.” 

“He did not!” Zhang Hao denies vehemently.

“How do you know? Did you ask?” Taerae presses, raising an eyebrow.

Zhang Hao pointedly ignores him and turns to Gunwook. “Moral of the story is that this guy liked Matthew and wanted Hanbin’s help in confessing,” he exhales. “But Hanbin refused and said he didn’t want to interfere.” 

“Do you know if the guy confessed yet?” Gunwook asks. 

But Zhang Hao shakes his head. “No, not yet. Hanbin hadn’t given me an update on that…”

Taerae stands up, waving his hands in a motion. “Then, shoo . Go make up with him. We need part two. Now!” 

“Aren’t you even going to ask why I don’t want to talk to him?” Zhang Hao asks, crossing his arms and glaring at Taerae.

Taerae rolls his eyes, clearly unfazed. “Okay, hyung, why don’t you want to talk to Hanbin?”

But before Zhang Hao can actually answer, Taerae continues, his tone blunt and to the point. 

“Because I know it’s probably something stupid. Like him saying the wrong thing because he was nervous he finally got to go on an unofficial date with you,” Taerae comments. “And you're just being dramatic because you’re insecure about whether he actually likes you or not and you need that reassurance.”

Zhang Hao averts his eyes, perhaps feeling extremely seen. “Wrong,” he mutters, but the tips of his red ears say the opposite.

“Oh, look! Your pants are on fire!” Taerae teases, grinning widely.

Determined to throw the spotlight off of him, Zhang Hao quickly returns to the topic at hand. “You’re lying if you’re saying you didn’t have the smallest tiniest crush on Matthew,” he points at Gunwook, his eyes narrowing with playful accusation.

Gunwook sputters, his face flushing. “I didn’t!” he protests, but his hyungs don’t budge, their expressions remaining skeptical.

Taerae leans back, crossing his arms with a knowing smirk. “Sure, Gunwook. Sure.”

Gunwook feels the heat rising in his cheeks, flustered by the accusation. He’s always admired Matthew, yes, but a crush? He’s not sure how to process that. The thought makes his heart race, and he wonders if his hyungs can hear it pounding in his chest.

Zhang Hao laughs, shaking his head. “It’s okay, Gunwook. Everyone has a crush on Matthew at some point. It’s like a rite of passage.”

Gunwook’s eyes widen in disbelief. “A rite of passage? Really?”

Taerae nods, his expression serious for once. “Absolutely. It’s like you’re not fully part of the team until you’ve had a crush on Matthew and realized he’s just too nice for his own good.”

Gunwook shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips despite his embarrassment. “You guys are ridiculous.”

“Unless…” Taerae observes him carefully and Gunwook becomes wary because nothing good comes out of that look. “You have one for him now!”

He knows his hyungs only mean to tease him, desperate to get their younger roommate embarrassed. And that is exactly what happens — Gunwook’s eyes widening and cheeks getting impossibly more red. He isn’t exactly sure why, but he feels like a kid again, getting shy when someone teases him over a crush . 

In some way, Gunwook sees it. With how caring and attentive Matthew is, he understands how someone can fall for him. But that’s not what’s happening here with Gunwook. If anything, Gunwook simply appreciates him. Because there’s no space or permission for it to be anything else. And that’s how it is going to stay…

“Hyung,” Gunwook groans, burying his face in his hands. 

“Wait, do you actually?” Zhang Hao marvels, hand on his chest as he leans forward. 

“No!” Gunwook insists quickly, massaging his temples. “I don’t like him like that. He’s just…nice.” 

Intrigued, Taerae makes a noise contemplatively, “Nice?”

“That’s the classic line,” Zhang Hao teases, his eyebrows dancing mischievously.

“I'm serious!” Gunwook asserts, his tone bordering on exasperation. “He’s been really supportive lately, so I just want to thank him for that. And...I'm convinced he’s just universally nice.” Zhang Hao remains contemplative, absorbing Gunwook’s fervent denial.

Taerae, on the other hand, jumps in, “True. He is a very warm person as a whole. That’s why everyone is head over heels for him at least once. How he hasn’t gotten into a long relationship — we will never know!”

“Exactly,” Zhang Hao concurs, his voice rich with amusement. “He radiates that warmth without even trying, so it’s tough to tell if he’s genuinely interested in someone.”

Gunwook swallows discreetly, a pang of disappointment settling in his chest. For some reason, that doesn’t sit well with him. It echoes the exact conversation he had with Matthew last night—whether Matthew’s care was something Gunwook genuinely deserved or if it was just Matthew being universally nice to everyone.

And Gunwook wants it to be the former. He wants it so badly.

But hearing this now, Gunwook feels more and more dejected. All he wants is for someone like Matthew to actually support him. With everything that’s happened, it’s given Gunwook hope. Not the kind of hope many of Matthew’s admirers have, but the kind that maybe, just maybe, Matthew actually does want to get close to Gunwook.

All Gunwook can think about now is Matthew — his endearing smile and enthusiasm, his nonchalant ways of easing someone’s worries, his steady voice, and his flowy hair that bounces with every step.

Okay, so maybe Gunwook notices a lot about Matthew, but Gunwook just admires him, okay? Admires. He’s a hyung after all, and Gunwook won’t overstep. 

He will keep his hopes and imaginations from running wild, he will restrain himself from those butterflies and feelings he felt at the fair, he will make sure he doesn’t say or do anything that’ll make Matthew uncomfortable. 

All Gunwook will do is thank him — he just hasn’t figured out how yet. 

────୨ৎ────

Luckily, Taerae and Zhang Hao don’t press about last night, simply sending Gunwook to his room to sleep the hangover off, promising to wake him for dinner. 

But Gunwook can’t sleep, eyeing the stuffed bear across from him. Stupid bear. Why does it have to be here — with the new information about Matthew running through his head? He wants to forget momentarily, to keep his mind off and insecurities stuffed away for a little while until his head stops pounding. 

But just as his eyes begin to close and he is almost stolen to his slumber, Gunwook quite literally jumps at the sound of his phone ringing. Perturbed, Gunwook sits up, reaching to the nightstand to grab his phone. 

However, he smiles instantly when he reads the caller id: Gunhan Hyung

“Hyung,” Gunwook answers, his voice still thick with sleep.

“ Gunwookie! How are you doing? You sound like you just woke up, ” Gunhan laughs on the other side.

Gunwook hums in confirmation, “Dealing with a massive hangover,” he explains simply. 

“Y ou college students… ” Gunhan reprimands playfully. But then Gunhan's voice softens, shifting to a more serious tone. “ How are you fitting in at the new school, though? I know it’s different, not following the family legacy at KU, but I still want you to succeed and be happy. ”

Gunwook sighs, the question bringing a mix of emotions. “It’s... different,” he admits. “Last night, I actually ran into someone from KU at a party.”

Gunhan’s concern is immediate. "You didn’t fight him, did you? ”

Internally, Gunwook’s chest tightens. Fight…Assault…Is that all Gunwook will be associated with?

But he knows Gunhan means well so Gunwook laughs, the sound light and genuine. “No, hyung. I didn’t fight him. It was tense, but I handled it. Didn’t want to cause any trouble.”

There’s a pause, and then Gunhan’s voice is filled with relief. “ Good. I’m glad you kept your cool. ”

“Yeah,” Gunwook agrees, his mind wandering back to the confrontation. “But honestly, the new team is nice. They don’t treat me badly. It’s a good change.”

“ That’s really good to hear ,” Gunhan says sincerely. “ You deserve a fresh start, away from all the drama. Just keep focusing on what makes you happy and remember, I’m always here for you .”

Gunwook feels a warmth spread through his chest, grateful for his brother’s unwavering support. “Thanks, hyung. It means a lot. I’ll do my best.”

Gunhan's tone shifts slightly, becoming more serious but still gentle. “ Just make sure to call Eomma ,” he advises. “ She’s been worried about you. I know you text her every day, but she still worries, especially since you aren’t in the house. ”

Gunwook winces a bit, feeling a twinge of guilt. “I know, hyung. I’ll call her today. I don’t want her to worry too much.”

“ That’s good ,” Gunhan replies with a hint of relief. “ It’ll make her day to hear your voice. And it’ll probably make you feel better too, knowing she’s not stressing out. ”

Gunwook nods, even though Gunhan can’t see him. “Yeah, I’ll do that. Thanks for the reminder.”

“ No problem ,” Gunhan says warmly. “ Just take care of yourself, okay? We’re all rooting for you. ”

“I will, hyung,” Gunwook promises. “Talk to you soon.”

After ending the call with his brother, Gunwook scrolls through his contacts and selects his mother's number. He knows she’ll be overjoyed to hear from him. 

As the phone rings, he takes a deep breath, preparing to put on a cheerful front despite his lingering hangover and the events of last night.

“ Gunwook-ah! ” His Eomma’s voice is warm and bright, immediately lifting his spirits.

“Eomma,” Gunwook greets, a smile spreading across his face. “How are you?”

“ I’m good, but how are you, my son? ” she asks, concern evident in her tone. “ You’ve been eating well, right? Getting enough rest? ”

Gunwook chuckles softly. “Yes, Eomma. I’m eating and sleeping fine. Just dealing with a bit of a hangover today.”

“ Aish, don’t overdo it, okay? ” she scolds lightly, but there’s a fondness in her voice. 

“I won’t,” Gunwook assures her. “I promise.”

There’s a brief pause before his Eomma speaks again, her tone more serious. “ Gunwook-ah, I know it’s in the past, but I worry about you. Have you met good people at SNU? ”

Gunwook swallows, the discreet mention of KU sending a pang through him. “Yes, Eomma. I’ve met some really good people. My roommates are great, and the basketball team is nice too. They don’t treat me badly. It’s been a good change.”

His Eomma sighs softly, the sound filled with relief. “ I’m glad to hear that, love. You deserve to be happy and surrounded by good people ”

“I know, Eomma,” Gunwook says, his voice gentle. “Thank you. I love you.”

“ I love you too, Gunwook-ah. Go back to sleep and hydrate, okay? And call me more often! ”

“Eomma, I talk to you everyday already,” Gunwook grins to himself, picking at the comforter of his bed absentmindedly. 

“ It’s not the same as hearing your voice, you know? Message me later! I might send you some food to share with your new roommates, I’ll talk to your brother about dropping it off, ” she says, trailing off as if thinking to herself.

Gunwook chuckles softly. “You know Eomma, you don’t have to do that. They’re already spoiling me with their cooking.”

His Eomma laughs warmly. “ I know, but an Eomma’s heart wants to make sure her son is well-fed. Plus, think of it as an Eomma’s thanks to your hyungs for taking care of her son! ”

Giving in, “I appreciate it, Eomma. They’ll definitely love whatever you send.”

“ Good. I’ll talk to Gunhan about it then. Take care of yourself, Gunwook-ah. ”

“Talk to you soon.”

As the call ends, Gunwook feels a renewed sense of calm. He sets his phone down and lies back, staring at the ceiling. His hyung's and Eomma’s words echo in his mind, giving him the reassurance he needs. 

With a deep breath, he allows himself to relax. Gunwook turns on his side, the stuffed bear Matthew had won for him resting against his chest. 

The plush fur is soft and comforting under his fingertips, a tactile reminder of the gentleness Matthew had shown him. He presses his face into the bear, inhaling the faint scent of the fairground mixed with the fabric softener his roommates use. It’s a strangely comforting combination, grounding him in the present moment.

His thoughts drift back to the night before, replaying the way Matthew had held his hand. The sensation of Matthew’s thumb gently rubbing his palm is still fresh in his mind, a soothing rhythm that had calmed his racing heart. Gunwook can’t help but smile at the memory, though it’s tinged with a pang of longing and confusion.

Why does he feel this way about Matthew? It’s not just admiration or respect—there’s something deeper, something that makes his chest tighten and his pulse quicken. Gunwook shakes his head, trying to dispel the thoughts. He can’t let himself fall into the trap of wishful thinking. Matthew is kind to everyone; it’s just who he is.

But despite his resolve, Gunwook’s mind continues to wander. He thinks about Matthew’s smile, the way it lights up his entire face and makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. He thinks about the way Matthew’s hair bounces with every step, how his laughter is infectious and genuine. There’s a magnetic quality to Matthew that Gunwook finds irresistible, even though he knows he shouldn’t.

Gunwook contemplates texting Matthew. Should he thank him for being there last night, for listening without judgment? Maybe apologize for dumping his emotions on him, for burdening him with his problems? He doesn’t know what the right thing to say is. His heart aches at the thought that he might have inconvenienced Matthew, made him uncomfortable or taken advantage of his kindness.

As he lays in bed, surrounded by the comforting silence of his room, Gunwook replays their interactions in his mind. He recalls how Matthew had patiently listened, offering reassurances and understanding. The memory of Matthew’s gentle smile and reassuring words lingers in his thoughts, pulling at his emotions.

But for now, Gunwook decides he will talk to him tomorrow at practice. He wants to gauge Matthew’s mood, see if there’s any lingering awkwardness or if their friendship remains unchanged. 

Closing his eyes, Gunwook hugs the stuffed bear tighter, seeking solace in its familiar softness. He knows he needs to keep his feelings in check, to maintain the boundaries of their friendship. 

But for now, as he drifts back to sleep, he allows himself a moment of vulnerability. In the quiet of his room, with the echoes of his family's love and Matthew's kindness surrounding him, Gunwook dares to hope that he’s finally found a place where he belongs.

Chapter Text

“I’m going to die,” is the first thing Gyuvin says to Gunwook when he sees him, his voice echoing throughout the building. His eyelids droop heavily, burdened by a profound lack of sleep — a sentiment Gunwook deeply empathizes with.

“You’re not going to die,” Gunwook hides a smile. “You’ll be just fine.” 

But Ricky shakes his head, holding the door open for them as they enter the empty locker room. “Actually, I don’t have much hope for you so enjoy your life while you can,” he quips with a wry smile.

“Ricky!” Gyuvin protests, slumping his duffel bag onto the bench with a thud. “You’re supposed to cheer me up. Give me some support, not pray for my downfall.”

“I don’t have to pray for it if it’s already happening,” Ricky counters with a smirk, shrugging lightly.

Gunwook merely blinks slowly, dismissing them to the edge of his awareness. It’s too early for their antics — it’s barely past seven — and his head still throbs from yesterday’s hangover. 

Today is a long day, they’ll be in the gym until later than usual, so Gunwook needs to conserve all the energy he can. So instead of entertaining them, Gunwook starts changing into his practice gear, while more of their teammates begin to trickle into the locker room, filling it with the murmur of morning grogginess.

Midway through fixing his shirt over his body, Gunwook catches sight of Hanbin approaching him, a grin on his face, a sharp contrast to the crying Hanbin he saw two nights ago. 

“Gunwook,” Hanbin greets with a bashful tone, plopping down beside him. As he busies himself with his shoes, he inquires, “Feeling better today?”

Gunwook folds his sweatpants neatly, raising an eyebrow slightly, intrigued by the sudden concern. “I’m good,” he replies slowly, curiosity piqued. “What’s up?”

Hanbin presses his lips together briefly, then clears his throat. “Just checking in,” he mutters. “Do you feel better from the party?”

“I do,” Gunwook answers truthfully. Throwing out a wild guess, “Did Hao hyung put you up to this?” 

Hanbin freezes. Bingo. 

Caught, Hanbin’s shoulders slump as he lets out a small laugh. “Maybe a little,” he admits, his eyes flicking away momentarily.

“Tell him I’m doing okay,” Gunwook finishes putting his shoes on, closing his locker gently as he peers at Hanbin, who looks like a deer in the headlights. “I’m not suffering in silence if that’s what he is worried about.” 

“It’s not that,” Hanbin admits, standing up with a more serious demeanor. “Just that he asked me if you were settling in well and I realized I haven’t checked in on you as much as I should be.” 

Oh. That’s…nice.

Feeling some surprise, “Hyung, it’s okay,” Gunwook reassures him. And he means it. Hanbin, as much as he may think, doesn’t have to stretch himself so thin just to make sure everyone is doing okay. Gunwook meets his gaze, secretly touched by the confession. 

But Hanbin shakes his head, his voice dropping to a serious whisper. “It’s not okay. I’m your captain, Gunwook. I’m supposed to look out for you, make sure you’re alright, on and off the court, especially with what happened at the party.”

Now, it’s Gunwook who freezes. He genuinely believed they would all ignore it, forget the event ever happened, but now Hanbin is mentioning it in a locker room full of their teammates. 

Gunwook feels a knot tighten in his chest as Hanbin's earnest words echo in the bustling locker room. “Hyung,” he starts, his chuckle strained, a feeble attempt to brush off the gravity of Hanbin's concern. He avoids Hanbin’s gaze, directing his eyes instead to the scuffed tiles beneath their feet.

But Hanbin, undeterred and resolute, lowers his voice even further, his words cutting through the cacophony of their teammates' chatter.  “I’m not asking for an explanation. If Coach decided you were meant to be on my team, then you’re meant to be. I know my words may not help much, but I mean it. And I know that something like being confronted aggressively by a former teammate might not sit well with you.” 

Gunwook looks down at his shoes, the loud chatter of the boys around them almost being enough to drown out his thoughts. But it’s not enough. It never is. 

“It’s okay. I kind of expected something like this would happen eventually,” Gunwook confesses, the admission more to himself than to Hanbin. “Whether it be on the court once the season starts, or during a scrimmage game. I just didn’t expect Hyunwoo to be the one to walk up like that.” 

“Well,” Hanbin smiles weakly, patting the taller boy’s shoulder. “When the time comes, let me handle it, okay? I’m your captain, you can depend on me. Don’t worry about anything,” he asserts, his voice imbued with a gentle yet unwavering conviction.

Those words, meant to comfort, instead stir a familiar caution within Gunwook. 

Gunwook has heard those words before. He has believed them before. So he’s wary of them now, he’s tempted to ignore them, to figure things out on his own, but he remembers everything that’s happened these past weeks since the semester started. 

So he lets himself hope, even just a little. He hopes that this time it will be different, that it won’t repeat itself. And of course it won’t — Hanbin isn’t the type of person to prey on someone younger, someone barely being able to come to terms with their identity. Hanbin isn’t like him. 

"Th-thank you," Gunwook stutters, his voice low and grateful under the weight of his captain's gaze. "I’ll reach out if I need it. I promise."

“Good,” Hanbin smiles. “And if not me, then you have other people, too. Like Hao hyung or Matthew-ah…I know you might trust them a bit more right now.” 

Gunwook almost chokes. He wants to ask more, but he instead nods in agreement. 

Hanbin, reassured by the sincerity in Gunwook's promise, reaches up to ruffle his hair gently. The gesture, affectionate and familiar, is reminiscent of the way Zhang Hao might comfort him.

“Alright, finish up and let’s practice,” Hanbin encourages, his tone warm yet firm, pushing them both back into the rhythm of their routine.

Pulling his attention back to the locker room antics as Gyuvin playfully returns Ricky's shoes — which he had stealthily snatched earlier — Gunwook leads the three of them to join the others on the court.

As they line up at the entrance to the gym, Gyuvin leans in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Hey, next Thursday,” he starts, elbow nudging Gunwook's side lightly, “I convinced Hanbin hyung to have a team dinner to celebrate the start of the scrimmages and the season. It’ll be fun!”

Gunwook’s eyebrows raise. “On a weekday? Are you sure he is okay with that?” 

“It’s Thursday,” Gyuvin waves it off dismissively. “One day closer to Friday, and I don’t have classes on Friday anyways.”

“Well I do,” Ricky grumbles. “And by definition, so do you.”

Before Gyuvin can retort back, “Good morning!” Jaehyun, already smiley at such an ungodly hour of the morning, slides in between Ricky and Gunwook, wrapping his arms around their shoulders in the form of a greeting. “How are my favorite boys doing?”

“I thought your favorites were Hanbin and Taesan,” Gyuvin mumbles, taking a nonchalant sip from his water bottle.

“Just say you’re mad you aren’t one of them,” Jaehyung smiles forcefully, a playful warning.

Then, Gunwook nearly trips over himself, and by consequence almost takes Jaehyun and Ricky with him, when a new boy pops up to their right, smiling at a disgruntled Ricky. “Good morning,” Matthew greets, a headband on his forehead. 

Gunwook's heart stutters once Matthew steps into view, the headband, innocuously placed yet somehow managing to accentuate his easy charm, doesn't help Gunwook's goal to remain composed. 

Gunwook pauses, trying to find the right words to say, but every dumb idea Taerae and Zhang Hao put in his head yesterday comes rushing to the front of his mind like a cruel joke. And in addition to that, Gunwook promised himself he would talk to Matthew today, to apologize and maybe gauge what Matthew truly thinks of him. 

Gunwook chides himself internally, battling the irrational surge of nerves that threatens to betray his calm exterior.

But before Gunwook can get the courage to return the greeting, Jaehyun jumps in. “Hyung!” he says excitedly. “I missed you!”

As Jaehyun's enthusiastic greeting cuts through his thoughts, Gunwook's gaze sharpens on his teammate. The light-hearted interaction masks his own inner analysis. Could Jaehyun be the one who has feelings for Matthew? The thought flits through his mind, but he dismisses it almost as quickly.

No, he talks to Hanbin daily — a contrast to the detail Zhang Hao had pointed out — they’re practically attached to the hip, save for Matthew. Yet, the seed of doubt lingers, tinted by the revelations of yesterday's conversation with Taerae and Zhang Hao.

Matthew's attention shifts to Gunwook, pulling him from his reverie. “Gunwookie, are you ready for our first official scrimmage practice?” Matthew asks, his tone friendly but with an undertone of challenge that seems to dare him to step up.

Gunwook's response, “Y-yeah,” emerges more hesitant than he intends. He’s acutely aware of the need to talk to Matthew, to explain himself without the cacophony of their teammates around. He needs to thank him, explain that the other night wasn’t just Gunwook dumping his problems on Matthew.

“He better be,” Gyuvin shoves Jaehyun off to wrap his own arm around Gunwook, almost possessively, but Jaehyun takes it in good fun with a chuckle. “We gotta practice and show KU who’s boss,” he huffs competitively.

Too bad Gunwook will do everything possible not to be at that game…

As they approach the middle of the court, Coach Jiwoong claps his hands to grab everyone’s attention, the sound echoing slightly in the expansive gym. 

“Alright, everyone, let’s start with some light weight training,” he announces, his voice firm yet encouraging. He motions towards the racks of weights neatly aligned against the wall. “We will start with some pairings and chest presses, then move on to some other exercises, okay? Find a partner and let’s go,” he smiles.

This is his chance.

But his plan is almost foiled when Gunwook spots Hanbin moving towards Matthew, probably to team up. Without giving himself a chance to second-guess, Gunwook intercepts, approaching Matthew with a determination that surprises even himself.

“Matthew hyung, pair up with me today?” Gunwook asks before Hanbin can reach them, his voice steadier than he feels inside. He sees Hanbin just move towards Gyuvin who has been robbed of Ricky by a teasing Jaehyun.

Matthew looks up, his expression shifting to one of mild surprise before easing into a welcoming smile. “Sure, Gunwook,” he agrees without hesitation. And oh…. Gunwook gulps. 

As they position themselves at the bench press, Gunwook grabs a towel, wiping his palms which have suddenly become clammy. Okay, he can do this, he mentally prepares himself, feeling Matthew's calm presence next to him. The simple act of choosing the weights and setting up the equipment feels like a reprieve, giving him a moment to gather his thoughts.

Matthew seems oblivious to Gunwook's internal conflict, chatting casually about the upcoming drills while Gunwook nods along. 

“I actually wanted to take some of the guys to the gym with me, you know?” Matthew comments casually, glancing at Gunwook every now and then. “But they refused, and now they’re forced to do some weights,” he laughs.

Gunwook’s thoughts are elsewhere, plotting the best way to segue into a more personal conversation. He needs to clear the air, to explain his actions at the party, and to express his gratitude for Matthew's support.

But… Maybe Gunwook is too tunnel-visioned on this. He probably is, isn’t he? Matthew seems completely normal, like everything that happened just didn’t happen… 

Should Gunwook just leave it be?

“You want to start?” Matthew offers, cheeky. “I’m the expert so I’ll spot you, trust me.”

Gunwook doesn’t know how to tell Matthew that he works out regularly without getting shy, so he agrees silently, laying back onto the bench press.

“Don’t drop it on me,” Gunwook jokes with a breathy tone, starting with no weights on the bar. Matthew, hovering close enough for Gunwook to notice the subtleties of his expression, mimics a dropping motion with his hands above Gunwook’s face. 

Fuck. No wonder everyone finds him adorable.

Matthew positions himself behind Gunwook, ready to watch Gunwook do some reps with the warm-up weight. And Gunwook does the reps easily, putting the bar back in place once he finishes, sitting up as Matthew goes to add some weights.

“You really have that sleeper build, you know?” Matthew comments. 

“ Sleeper build? ” Gunwook repeats, the English phrase unfamiliar to him. 

“Yeah, like you look toned when you aren’t trying, but when you do try, you look really muscular,” Matthew explains, voice more hurried than usual. 

Gunwook furrows his eyebrows. “Oh, I never heard that before,” a mix of flustered and confused. 

“It’s a good thing,” Matthew finishes putting the new weights, motioning for Gunwook to lay back. “Now let’s see if I can keep up with you.” 

Gunwook finishes his reps easily, sliding off the bench press to give Matthew his turn. “I’ll spot you this time,” Gunwook smiles when Matthew pouts. 

Okay. Maybe Gunwook can work with this. He can forget, he can do as Matthew is doing — pretending like nothing happened, and falling into this back and forth that they have now. Gunwook can do it — without any other intentions. 

But as he watches Matthew prepare for his set, he finds himself a bit dejected. His own mind confuses him — one second he’s glad Matthew doesn’t approach the subject, and the other, he’s disappointed that the memory of Matthew knowing, of caring the way he did, is brushed aside. 

Will that be forgotten, too? 

Nope. Too much thinking. 

As Matthew settles onto the bench press, Gunwook takes his position as the spotter, his hands hovering just above the bar as Matthew begins his set. 

The smooth, controlled motion of Matthew lifting the weights is oddly captivating, and Gunwook can’t help but notice the effortless strength with which Matthew executes each rep. 

The sight sends an unexpected flutter through his stomach, and warmth spreads across his cheeks. 

Forget adorable . Those biceps that had Gunwook flustered in that storage closet are back, now flustering Gunwook with their entire basketball team surrounding them doing their own sets. 

He swallows, eyes trailing along Matthew’s exposed skin, along the hair strands that land on his face — and he’s almost tempted to brush them aside, just so he can see Matthew’s expression better — and along the low collar of his practice jersey. 

Caught off guard by his own reaction, Gunwook almost forgets to pay attention, his thoughts scattering. 

Matthew, perhaps sensing the momentary lapse, smirks up at Gunwook, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Keeping up, Gunwook?” he teases, pushing up the last rep with a grin.

He has no idea . But before Gunwook can read too much into it, he clears his throat, trying to mask his flustered state. “Yeah, yeah, of course,” he stammers, a little too quickly. Matthew sits up on the bench. 

“Feel this,” Matthew says suddenly, raising his arm to flex. “That’s the result of not skipping gym days.” His tone is light, teasing, but obviously completely unaware of the turmoil he’s stirring in Gunwook.

Hesitant but curious, Gunwook reaches out, his fingers brushing against Matthew’s bicep. The muscle under his touch is firm, and the physical contact only intensifies the butterflies in his stomach. Gunwook quickly pulls his hand back as if burned, his face heating up even more.

Matthew chuckles, clapping Gunwook on the shoulder. “See? That’s what I’m talking about. Maybe you'll get there too if you keep up.” Gunwook nods, managing a small smile, his mind a whirl of emotions. 

For the next half hour, there’s a one-sided tension growing that Gunwook tries, and fails, to ignore. He tries to behave, he does , but a guy can only do so much when someone like Matthew is exercising in front of him, looking more enticing than ever before. 

He’s hot, okay? Objectively , it’s the truth. 

After many different exercise sets and sooner than Gunwook expected, Jiwoong calls for them to huddle once more.

“Come on, let's get back to the others,” Matthew says as he leads the way to where the rest of the team is gathering for the next exercise. Gunwook follows, his mind racing with conflicting emotions.

As they rejoin the team, the coach claps his hands, calling everyone's attention. “Alright, boys, let’s pick up the pace. We're moving onto drills next!” 

As the drills begin, Gunwook watches Matthew, laughing and joking as if he hasn't just unraveled months of Gunwook’s careful emotional control in mere minutes.

It’s disconcerting how easily Matthew seems to shake him, and yet, Gunwook can’t help but feel drawn to him, pulled in by his charisma and warmth. Seriously, Gunwook tries to focus, but his eyes often steal glances at Matthew, observing how he interacts with the team, his laughter ringing clear and true. 

Each smile, each gesture, seems to embed itself deeper in Gunwook’s consciousness, making it harder to maintain the mental distance he knows he should be keeping.

He also can’t help but wonder whether one of the other players is the unnamed guy with the hopeful crush on Matthew. But it’s hard to tell, because everyone finds Matthew endearing, talking with him easily. 

“Hey! Pay attention!” One of his teammates yells, passing Gunwook the basketball quickly. 

They’re playing a mock game now — third and fourth years versus the first and second years. It’s quite an unbalanced skill game, but Jiwoong thought it’d be best to have the younger teammates play against the older ones, since that’s how it’ll be for the upcoming season. 

“Right here,” Taesan calls from behind him, Gunwook making a discreet pass and defending Taesan against Hanbin once he catches the ball. 

Taesan sidesteps Eunseok, duping him as he makes the final stretch; he smiles as he shoots the basketball, scoring a three pointer just in time before Jiwoong blows his whistle. 

“Good work,” Jiwoong says, before he points to some of the boys on the sidelines. “Gyuvin, Matthew, you’re in!”

The team makes the switches easily, Gunwook leaning his hands on his thighs to catch his breath. “Doing good,” Gyuvin passes by, secretly swatting Gunwook’s butt and moving aside before Gunwook can retaliate. 

Gyuvin and Hanbin start off and Gunwook licks his lips as he waits for the ball thrown into the air in between them. 

Jiwoong interrupts though, giving some small comments to one of the seniors before they can start again. As they wait, Gunwook absentmindedly brushes a strand of his hair out of his eyes, and in consequence, meets eyes with Matthew on the other side of the court. 

Matthew tuts his chin up as a mock provocation, his shining eyes diminishing the threat he wishes he could intimidate Gunwook with. “ Bring it,” Matthew mouths, the words clear to Gunwook to interpret. 

Gunwook grins, the action quite endearing to him. How could he be so adorable and…you know… hot at the same time? No wonder everyone falls for him. Matthew really just has a kind soul, with a playfulness that Gunwook thinks everyone needs a little of in their life. 

And Gunwook has been too serious for a long time. 

Basketball used to be a passion Gunwook thinks he could die for. And maybe it still is that way — but once he got to KU, that passion morphed into something different. The expectations dragged him down, tearing away that personal want to play, and instead filled his memories of the sport with moments Gunwook would rather forget. 

But ever since he’s gotten to SNU, things have been different. 

Maybe he’s just noticing it now, but he goes through these practices carefree, enjoying the game without worrying about someone using his performance as blackmail. 

His team members are nice, too. Incredibly so. They know when it’s appropriate to joke around and when to get serious — and they never let someone get too deep in their head. And they’re incredibly talented at basketball, and dare he say, better many times over the KU team. 

It’s a team anyone can wish for, and Gunwook thinks these past couple of weeks have healed his relationship with basketball — undoing a whole year of destruction — just by being with this team. 

And Gunwook will admit that Matthew has taken part of that, too. 

“And…” Jiwoong starts off, setting Gunwook into position with everyone’s eyes locked onto the ball in the middle of the court. Without a preamble, Jiwoong blows his whistle and the ball flies in the air. 

Gyuvin jumps, his height an advantage as he tips the ball onto their side of the court. From his position, Ricky catches it immediately, quickly surrounded by the offensive team. Sensing the situation, Gunwook makes it around, motioning that he’s open. Ricky spots him, making a pass that Gunwook catches successfully. 

But the real challenge comes when Matthew makes it in front of him, ready to block any move Gunwook dares to make. 

Is Gunwook going crazy? Because his brain is now turning to mush. He can’t see anything except for Matthew’s determined eyes and his toned arms. And his stupor provides ample opportunity for someone to snatch the ball from his grasp, switching the hand to the older guys. 

“Gunwook!” Ricky calls as a warning, but he’s already off to chase after the ball before Gunwook can explain himself. 

Matthew, however, looks awfully smug, raising a singular eyebrow before he turns to meet their team. 

Does Matthew not know what he’s doing? No, he has to. He just loves messing with him, like he always has. He does it a lot more often lately, but Gunwook had never reacted…like this?

“Open,” Hanbin yells, jumping to catch the pass from his team and making the point easily. 

Gunwook catches the rebound, wincing when he sees Ricky looking at him suspiciously. “Try not to get distracted this time,” Ricky mutters, more amused than anything, and Gunwook is tempted to bang his head with the ball. 

“I won’t,” Gunwook rolls his eyes, starting the game once more. 

They spend the next couple of hours practicing as usual, running through the same motions while amping up the pressure. Gunwook thinks they’ve got a good pace going, the first and second years having improved tremendously since the semester started, which is a big feat. 

Once it’s time for another water break, around an hour before the end of practice, Gunwook sits down by the sidelines, practically collapsing onto the floor. Following his lead, Gyuvin sits next to him, his head ceremoniously landing on Gunwook’s lap and his leg on Ricky’s. 

“I’m dying,” Gyuvin gasps, making a grabbing motion for Ricky to hand him his water bottle. Ricky complies silently. “I told you I wouldn’t survive.”

“You’re fine,” Gunwook chuckles, mopping his forehead with the hem of his jersey. “We are almost done anyways.” 

“Which reminds me…” Gyuvin bolts upright, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Wanna hang out after practice? There’s a cool drama we can watch.”

Gunwook hums, accidentally catching Ricky shooting them a glare before turning around and feigning nonchalance. “Yeah,” Gunwook agrees, leaning over to look at the other boy. “Ricky, you free?”

Ricky has the decency to look surprised, being terrible at hiding the relief behind his eyes. “Sure,” he says, voice steady, but Gunwook knows better.  

Oblivious, “Perfect!” Gyuvin exclaims, “Does your place work, Gunwook? The dorms don’t let us stay up that late, you know? And Ricky didn’t clean up his side of the room-”

Scoffing, Ricky pushes Gyuvin’s chest lightly. “Me? Are you sure all that unfolded laundry at the door isn’t yours?”

“You did not have to mention that. We are in public.”

“Literally no one cares.”

“Apparently you do.”

Gunwook tunes them out, turning to see Hanbin and Matthew whispering to each other. “Hey,” Gunwook nudges Gyuvin before turning to address him. “I have a question.”

“If it’s about where Ricky’s socks went then I wouldn’t know,” Gyuvin enunciates to a fed-up Ricky. 

“Gyub,” Ricky seethes, his warning ineffective. 

Gunwook inhales as if to cool himself. “It’s important,” he says, which calls for their attention. 

If it were a couple of weeks ago, Gunwook wouldn’t dare mention this to them. But he knows the pair a little better now, and he knows they wouldn’t be as evil to spread around what Gunwook tells them. 

“You guys would know if someone has a crush on someone else on the team, right?”

But Gunwook completely forgot that the two boys he is now talking to have been playing a push and pull game around each other for months. So he knows he shouldn’t be but he can’t help being surprised seeing both of them with wide eyes. 

Too antsy to deal with their posturing, “I’m not talking about you guys,” he sighs. 

Ricky looks as if he’s about to retort, but Gyuvin beats him to it. “Who are you referring to?” he redirects quickly. 

“Is it the one you were drooling over earlier?” Ricky mentions. 

Gunwook’s jaw tenses. “Drooling? I wasn’t drooling .”

“That’s not what I saw,” Ricky muses. 

“Keep going, Shen, and I’ll have to start being a player in your game,” Gunwook subtly warns and Ricky mimes zipping his mouth closed. “I’m serious. I was just…wondering.”

Catching on, Gyuvin smiles, “Who is it?” he pokes Gunwook’s side in rhythm with each word. “Who does Mr. Park Gunwook have a big, fat crush on?”

“I don’t have a crush.” Gunwook grits through his teeth. 

“So you’re just curious? Out of nowhere?” Gyuvin presses, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Yes,” Gunwook insists, his voice faltering slightly. He sighs deeply, the weight of his friends' scrutiny becoming too much. “Okay, fine. Hao hyung and Taerae hyung may have told me some things yesterday.” 

“What did they say?” Gyuvin leans in, his interest visibly piqued, his face inches from Gunwook’s.

Ricky chuckles softly, rolling his eyes. “Nosy.”

Looking around to check that they’re far away enough from others as to not be overhead, “Since I only just transferred this semester, they told me things about the team I hadn’t realized before,” Gunwook starts. 

“About the team?” Gyuvin echoes thoughtfully, tilting his head. “Like what?”

Gunwook hesitates, searching for the right words. “Just... who might be into who, stuff like that.” His voice lowers even more out of embarrassment.

Curiosity flashes across Gyuvin's face, his smirk widening. “Oh, juicy. So, who’s got a thing for who?”

Gunwook rubs the back of his neck, uncomfortable with how deep into gossip they were getting, but too far in to stop now. “It's not specific, but they think someone might like Matthew hyung?”

“Matthew?” Gyuvin bursts out, his voice a mix of surprise and amusement, while Ricky suddenly perks up, his attention fully on Gunwook now.

“Yell it out, won’t you?” Gunwook shushes him. “But I don't know who. Hao hyung was being vague, maybe to protect someone’s privacy?”

Ricky snorts, crossing his arms. “Or he just enjoys watching you squirm trying to figure it out,” he suggests, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Gyuvin chuckles, clapping Gunwook on the shoulder. “Well, if it’s about Matthew, it could be anyone.”

“Don’t tell me you liked him, too,” Gunwook deadpans. 

“Gunwook, hyung has every man wrapped around his finger,” Gyuvin makes an exaggerated motion with his finger. 

Picking at his shoelace, “Now, that’s just unrealistic,” he mumbles, a sour taste lingering in his mouth. He wonders if his discomfort is more about the gossip or the possibility of it being true.

“Aw, don’t be sad,” Gyuvin pouts mockingly. “I’m sure someone will have a crush on you, too.”

Ricky's laughter fades into a sly grin. “Maybe someone already does. Maybe even someone like Matthew hyung,” he teases, leaning closer with a conspiratorial whisper.

Gunwook’s cheeks heat up at the comment, his hands fumbling. He's not sure if he's more embarrassed by Ricky's teasing or by the sudden, uninvited thoughts of what it would be like if Matthew really did see him differently. 

Gunwook frowns, looking between his two friends. “That's not funny,” he replies, though the heat in his cheeks might suggest he's taking the idea more seriously than he'd like to admit.

“Oh, come on, Gunwook,” Gyuvin chimes in, nudging him playfully. “First step is acceptance.”

Oh the irony. 

“Ugh, get out of here with that,” Gunwook groans, his mind racing. 

As he glances away from Gyuvin's knowing smirk, his gaze inadvertently drifts towards Matthew, who is tossing a basketball between his hands across the court. The way Matthew's lips curve into a smile, so effortless and warm, sends an unexpected jolt through him. 

Gunwook curses himself, his fingers twitching nervously at his sides. It's easier to dismiss it as friendly banter, to categorize Matthew's kindness as general politeness — that way, Gunwook can keep his feelings neatly boxed away, unexamined.

But deep down Gunwook knows he is scared to admit that…he could like him. Gunwook can like Matthew, someday. And that’s the scary part. 

“It doesn’t really matter,” Gunwook mutters, trying to shake off the discomfort. “I was just curious since they brought it up.”

As he forces a chuckle, hoping to dispel the tension, part of him can't help but hold onto the thought, turning it over like a precious stone that he's both afraid of and fascinated by.

Hearing that their break time is over, Gunwook stands, brushing off his shorts as he prepares to rejoin the others on the court. “Right now, Let’s just focus on practice.” Gyuvin and Ricky exchange a quick, amused look before following him back to the court, the topic shelved for the moment but clearly not forgotten.

────୨ৎ────

Ricky leans casually against the wall, eyeing Gunwook with a mixture of concern and amusement. “You look like you've been resurrected from the dead,” he comments dryly.

Gunwook rubs his eyes wearily. “Feels about right,” he admits, his voice a low grumble.

He hasn’t had the best start to his week. After what happened last weekend, Gunwook found himself struggling to get back into the rhythm he had perfected since the semester started. 

Practice had gone as usual — being at the ass crack of dawn and ending with Gunwook more exhausted than before. It doesn’t help that every small thing that’s been bothering him since Sunday’s practice has been amplified times one hundred. 

Gunwook knows he needs to talk to someone, to share the burden that's become too heavy to bear alone. Zhang Hao or Gyuvin would be his usual confidants. Hanbin's suggestion to confide in Matthew also tugs at him. Matthew, with his openness and the way he has made Gunwook feel heard, even if just for a bit, seems like a safe harbor in the storm Gunwook's life has become.

Yet, the thought of opening up about such personal fears is daunting. What if Matthew doesn’t understand? What if he brushes off the incident as something Gunwook should just move past? 

Gunwook fixes his shirt with a sigh, the button-down less casual than he intended. “The exam we had today has been stressing me out. But it’s over now.”

“You study a lot, don’t you?” Ricky raises an eyebrow, observant. “The exam wasn’t that difficult.”

Gunwook wants to tear his own eyes out. “Thank you, Ricky,” Gunwook smiles weakly. He doesn’t add on. 

In thought, Ricky purses his lips, “Just use tonight as a celebration that that exam is over and done with,” he pushes off the wall and claps his shoulder. “It’ll turn out to be more of us drinking than eating anyways.”

Before Gunwook can reply, “Hey!” Gyuvin runs up behind them, wrapping around the pair’s shoulders so hard that they almost stumble. “You’re here! I didn’t want to go in yet by myself.” Judging by his outfit, Gyuvin looks ready to party in Gunwook’s eyes. 

“Where are we going? The club?” Gunwook laughs, peering at Gyuvin’s clothes. Now, he doesn’t feel so bad about his own button-down. 

Feigning offense, Gyuvin pouts, “What? A guy can’t look nice every once in a while?”

Rolling his eyes, “The hyungs are inside,” Gunwook motions with his head. They’ve been waiting for the past half over for the rest of the team, and Gunwook had tried his best to arrive in time — but Zhang Hao at the last minute needed Gunwook to help him fix something, which inadvertently took longer than expected.  

Eager, Gyuvin nods, “Then let’s go,” he smiles wide, leading Ricky by the arm. “I heard the food here is good!”

Gunwook doesn’t doubt that — the endless rants from Eunseok and Jaehyun the past week have painted a perfect picture of what food to expect. And given this will be the dinner before their first scrimmage game — which can be seen as the unofficial start of the season — they’ll want to go to the high end for dinner.

Pushing through the busy restaurant, the three boys immediately spot their team by the shouts in the corner. Granted, they’re definitely quieter than the other group on the other side of the room, but Jaehyun standing while preaching about who knows what calls their attention easily. 

“You lost. Drink, hyung!” Jaehyun picks up a shot glass, passing it to Hanbin, who adorns flushed cheeks. Face crinkled with a bright smile, Hanbin shakes his head half heartedly but he ends up grabbing the glass anyways. 

“They already started the rounds,” Gyuvin laughs before nudging Ricky. “Don’t go too crazy, okay?”

Ricky huffs, “I won’t. There'll be others to worry about. Remember Mr. Lighting Pole?” he nods towards their captain, clapping to the out of tune song Sungho is singing. 

When the team spots the three sophomores walking up with hesitance, there’s a series of subdued yells, welcoming them. “Come! Come!” one of the hyungs urges Gyuvin and Ricky to be by his side. 

There’s no place left next to Ricky, so Gunwook looks around the two tables that had been brought together for a place to sit. They are mostly full, each space taken by a team member, leaving Gunwook, officially the last member to arrive, at a loss. 

But low and behold, there’s an empty seat across from Ricky, right on the edge next to Matthew . 

Just his luck. 

Matthew waves him over excitedly, his own face blushed. “Gunwook!” he whines exaggeratedly. He pats the cushion next to him, as if trying to convince him to sit there. 

Gunwook clenches his fist, fighting between himself. 

The thing is: after Sunday when Gunwook had shamefully admired Matthew’s very defined…uhm…body… Gunwook had taken to distancing himself from him. It wasn’t too hard, and it wasn’t so obvious to seem deliberate since there were many excuses Gunwook used to keep the act up. 

He felt like he needed a few days to think on his own — to distract himself from the torment the entire situation has been causing him. But throughout all this, what pained him was seeing how welcoming Matthew would be every time they would see each other at the start of practice. 

They wouldn’t go farther than a simple greeting, something to play up appearances while drawing a line Matthew is too blind of to cross. 

Gunwook inhales heavily before attempting to soothe the tensions in his shoulders. Don’t be weird around him. Think normal. He’s a hyung. He’s a mentor. He’s…God, has he always looked this good?  

Gunwook! Focus!

Sliding in next to him, Gunwook returns a smile, fingers tapping against his knee anxiously when Matthew passes him a cup of water. “Do you want some soda? Or a drink? We just got water for everyone in case you didn’t want any.” 

“Uhm,” Gunwook pauses. “I don’t know if I should drink tonight. How much have you had?”

“Just two,” Matthew puts up two fingers. His bangs fall into his eyes momentarily, and Matthew shakes his head minutely to move them. “Don’t want to get too drunk. I have a certain hyung to take care of.”

Said hyung leans onto Matthew’s shoulder with a pout, “Seok-mae,” Hanbin nuzzles into Matthew’s shoulder. “I missed you.”

Feigning exasperation, Matthew pats his hair. “Yes, I missed you, too,” he placates, before leaning into Gunwook’s ear. “I’ve seen him every day this week.”

“You literally live with him,” Gunwook chuckles behind his hand. With a smirk, Matthew places a finger to his lips, as if to shush him. 

“A toast!” Gyuvin shouts amidst the chatter, surprising Gunwook when he holds up a cup. “To the beginning of the season and to a team that will most definitely lead us to championships!” He woos as he downs what is most likely water, joined by the chorus of their drunk and tipsy teammates as Gunwook lifts his water in unison. 

“You want some of the meat?” Matthew says, already placing a plate in front of Gunwook. 

Gunwook nods his head in show of a small thanks, grabbing his chopsticks to put a piece in his mouth. “Thank you, hyung.” Matthew smiles, booping his cheek. His hyungs sure love doing that. 

“You have to eat,” Matthew adds more pieces from his own plate. 

“S-So do you,” Gunwook retorts, placing a piece back on Matthew’s plate. 

“Take mine. I’m full,” Matthew says, returning it once more. 

“You barely ate,” Hanbin exposes, voice muffled in Matthew’s shoulder. Gunwook raises an eyebrow while Matthew rolls his eyes.  

“You won’t let me be the cool hyung, will you?” Matthew complains, flicking Hanbin’s head softly. 

Before Gunwook can stop himself, “You’re too cute for that.” 

Fuck. Well, it’s the truth isn’t it?

Matthew pouts, eyes daring. “Cute?” he whines. “I’m not cute!”

Gunwook tries to hide his smile, his chest warm seeing Matthew this way. Because even as he tries to defend his case, he looks cuter than before. What mess has Gunwook gotten himself into?

“Sorry, hyung,” Gunwook manages, eating a piece of the meat. “But you’re not very convincing,” which is a stone cold lie because Matthew is deadly convincing — to Gunwook to be specific. 

Maybe as a cruel punishment for what Gunwook has allowed himself to indulge in, Matthew puts his hand on Gunwook’s, squeezing it. “Don’t say that. I can be a hyung,” Matthew argues, shaking their hands. 

“A cute one,” Gyuvin interrupts from across the table, reaching out to squeeze his cheek. Matthew lets him, shooting him a half-hearted glare. 

Gunwook presses his lips together, and because he’s selfish, takes their hands so their fingers interlock. But Matthew pays this no mind, because it’s something Gunwook has seen him do with many others on the team. 

It’s such a small thing and Gunwook feels a bit silly for how his heart skips a beat. But he’s let himself go with the tide — allows his wants to reach the surface and guide his actions — something he has restrained for a long time. 

Before Gunwook is forced to acknowledge the heat coloring the back of his neck, he is interrupted, perhaps a small gift from any entity up above taking pity on one poor, poor Gunwook. “A shot?” Gyuvin places a shot glass in front of Gunwook. 

Inhaling, Gunwook picks it up easily. He’s too sober for this — too sober for the fond gaze Matthew is torturing him with. Maybe if he’s drunk, he can be a bit braver to say the words he’s been meaning to say, or maybe he can enjoy the gentle, smaller hand curled into his without tensing his shoulders from every small movement. 

“Thank you,” he sends to Gyuvin, who is now being hugged by a tipsy Ricky. 

“Oh,” Matthew turns to Gunwook, “How did that test of yours go?”

After taking the shot, Gunwook’s eyes widen briefly. “How did you know about that?”

Matthew motions his head to Ricky, “He was complaining about it for some days.” 

Clearing his throat, “It went well. Just made me exhausted.”

“I figured,” Matthew says, suddenly wary. “You’ve been a little lost in your head lately,” he taps Gunwook’s forehead with his free hand. It seems like a very discreet way to breach a subject that hasn’t been touched for almost a week. 

“Yeah,” Gunwook licks his lips. This is a chance. “Sorry about…that.” 

But Matthew’s eyebrows furrow. “No,” he states simply. 

“No?”

“Yeah, no,” Matthew tuts his chin. “No need for any apology.”

Suddenly at a loss, Gunwook pauses. Well…he can’t say he didn’t expect this given Matthew’s nature. “I meant…uhm…thank you,” his words trail off, more unsure than he intended. 

Eyes now twinkling, Matthew smiles. “No need for that either,” he leans in. 

Okay! Time for Gunwook to reevaluate every decision he has made in his life because now Matthew is closer than he ever has been, wide brown eyes staring at Gunwook intently, as if trying to pry a reaction out of him. 

He’s stumped…again. “You’re too kind,” Gunwook whispers, words almost lost to the exclamations of the boys down the table, apparently now lost in a drinking game. 

This makes Matthew gaze at Gunwook with an inquisitive look. “You said that last time,” he says, like he’s observing him. 

“It’s what you’ve shown me since I met you,” Gunwook replies slowly, hesitant. 

His response, “And I’ll ask you again, do you think you don’t deserve it?” comes with a lower volume than before — only decipherable by how close Matthew leans to his ear. And if Gunwook is being honest, this probably isn’t the best setting for having a conversation like this, but Gunwook started it and Matthew intends to continue it. 

“Accept my apology,” Gunwook shoots back in response. He can be difficult if he wants to be, and Matthew has been the one to bring this out of him now, making Gunwook a little more brave with each burst of dopamine his touch induces in him.  “And maybe I do deserve it.” 

Perhaps having seen right through him, Matthew purses his lips with a daring raise of his brow. “You know, you’re too cute to be convincing, too.”

“That’s a lie,” Gunwook denies quickly. It isn’t possible. Gunwook is a six foot man that intimidated a whole team when they had first met. But Matthew looks at him like it’s true, like he’s endeared by him. Gunwook isn’t sure what to do about that. 

“Keep telling yourself that,” is all Matthew says before he puts a piece of meat in his mouth. Gunwook tries his best not to read too much into the soft touch grazing along the back of Gunwook’s hand, a product of Matthew’s thumb. 

Gunwook is going crazy. 

He wants to pull at his hair or bite his nails, but he can’t when Matthew, with his wide smile, fluffy hair, and a heart that has shone through many times before, is right next to him. 

In the past weeks since they’ve met, they had never gone past that barrier drawn by the pretense of a hyung and dongsaeng, a line that Gunwook has erased with someone else before. 

It’s these repeats, the small hints that keep igniting memories in his mind that hold him back, because he knows if they weren’t, Gunwook would be okay with this. He would allow himself to feel what his body is feeling, devoid of any of his treacherous mind’s concerns. 

He would allow himself to get to know Matthew more, to pick at his brain and break down that wall, and maybe even let Matthew in himself. But Gunwook is rather weak isn’t he? He can't even hold someone’s hand without being afraid that it’s wrong . 

“Another round!” Jaehyun calls the waitress, a request that will most definitely encourage most of them to hit a club later. 

And he hopes and hopes that Matthew doesn’t join them, or more like Hanbin doesn’t join them. Maybe he can have Matthew just for a while longer, to talk to him more about everything that has happened this past week. 

Gunwook is selfish, selfish, selfish…

“Hyung,” Gunwook calls for Matthew’s attention once more. “Do you want to join us for a movie marathon later tonight? A-After this?”

This has Gyuvin turning to him with an eyebrow raised. It was supposed to be just Gunwook, Gyuvin, and Ricky, but eventually Zhang Hao wanted to join. So maybe it won’t be too much of a harm to have Matthew over, too?

“You should go, hyung. Gunwook really wants you to!” Gyuvin says enthusiastically, his smile a little too happy. Gunwook kicks him from under the table. 

Matthew looks between the pair, definitely with a question in his mind, “Of course,” he agrees before pursing his lips to point at a giggling Hanbin, “Will taking this one be okay?”

“Hao hyung would be happy to see him actually,” Ricky comments, words already slurring. “He’s been talking about him nonstop.”

Probably having a Zhang Hao sensor, Hanbin perks up. “Hao hyung talked about me?” He smiles dumbly. “Yes, we should go!”

Matthew raises an eyebrow. “Well, that’s decided,” he mumbles so only Gunwook can hear. 

Gunwook simply nods, trying to ignore the small flutter in his chest. 

Chapter Text

Dragging two drunk boys up stairs — fuck maintenance for not fixing the elevator that broke down two weeks ago — is not easy. 

Gunwook is out of breath, Hanbin hugging his waist with a strength he didn’t know he had. “Hyung, work with me here,” he pants, a bit entertained by the way Hanbin shakes his head in defiance. 

“Hyung,” Matthew chuckles from behind them, now given up on helping Gunwook — having been swatted away every time he approached Hanbin. “He needs to open the door in order for you to go see Hao hyung.”

This snaps Hanbin out of it, pulling away with a pout. 

Gunwook exhales, double checking that Gyuvin has successfully brought Ricky up each step, before opening the door to his apartment carefully. He expects the apartment to be dark, a sign that his roommates are in their rooms, but the lights are on, laughter coming from the living room. 

“Hyungs?” Gunwook calls, the laughter halting with footsteps following. As his guests take off their shoes and coats, Zhang Hao appears before them with a welcoming smile. 

“Oh, you’re here,” he pipes up, beaming when Hanbin rushes to hug him. “Earlier than I thought.”

“The hyungs had wanted to go to the club,” Gunwook takes off his shoes, deeming it enough as an explanation. 

“Hyung!” Gyuvin exclaims once he manages to make it inside, Ricky still hanging onto his side. 

“Hao Hao,” Hanbin says, almost dreamily, and Gunwook is more perplexed than disgusted. “I love your hugs. Gunwook-ah gives really good hugs, but nothing compares to you.”

Tuning his drunk hyung out, “What have you been up to, Hao hyung?” Matthew asks, walking into the living room of the apartment as everyone follows after him. “I feel like you’ve been busy so much lately.”

“My thesis, as always,” Zhang Hao replies, exasperatedly, patting Hanbin’s head. “Nothing out of the usual.”

Gunwook spots Taerae lounging unbothered on their sofa, scrolling through his phone with a true crime documentary paused on their television. Smiling, Gunwook calls, “Taerae hyung, I thought you were going home.”

Taerae looks up to greet them all, “Eomma thought it’d be best if I leave tomorrow morning instead, so now you’re stuck with me.”

“What a bummer,” Matthew pouts, flinching with a laugh when Taerae almost throws a pillow at him. 

Zhang Hao claps his hands to gather everyone’s attention. “Alright, since we’re all here, how about we start?”

Everyone agrees enthusiastically, even the tipsy ones who manage to nod in unison. Gyuvin and Ricky settle onto one end of the large sofa, still leaning on each other for support. Hanbin, now slightly more coherent, situates himself beside Zhang Hao, who has taken his usual spot on the floor near the coffee table. And Taerae remains sprawled on the other end of the sofa, making it clear he’s not moving.

Gunwook looks around for a place to sit. Just as he’s about to grab a cushion and settle on the floor, Matthew pats the space next to him on the sofa. “Here, sit with me. There’s plenty of room.”

Well, if he’s offering…Gunwook hesitates for a split second before nodding and sitting down beside Matthew. The older boy simply sends him a smile, unbeknownst to the swirling turmoil in Gunwook’s mind. 

Now, as everyone chatters between themselves, Gunwook is hyper-aware of their proximity and the way their knees occasionally brush against each other. He tries to focus on the movie selection process instead of the warmth radiating from Matthew’s side.

“What are we watching?” Gunwook asks, hoping his voice sounds steadier than he feels.

“How about something light and funny?” Gyuvin suggests, his head still resting on Ricky’s shoulder.

“Here,” Taerae passes around some blankets they keep for the living room, and Gunwook receives it with a grin.

“Oh! How about that one movie you guys mentioned?” Hanbin agrees, squeezing Zhang Hao’s hand gently. In the corner, Gyuvin and Ricky pay him no mind, fighting over the blanket that is definitely large enough to cover them both. In contrast, Gunwook settles the blanket gently over Matthew’s lap, allowing him the majority of it. He doesn’t feel as cold anyways.

After some deliberation, they settle on a popular comedy that everyone can enjoy. As the movie starts, the room is filled with the sound of laughter and the occasional commentary. Gunwook finds himself relaxing a bit, the tension of the past week slowly melting away. 

Looking around discreetly, and sending a hopefully subtle glance to the hyung next to him, Gunwook finds himself a bit relieved. Who would have thought that he would be here right now? If you were to tell his freshman year self that Gunwook would be playing for SNU and being here, hanging with these new friends, he wouldn’t believe it for the world.

And yet, Gunwook is a bit…glad. Things have turned out better than he ever could have imagined — and now with a certain someone next to him occupying his thoughts for days at this point, it’s strange to be focusing on such trivial things rather than worrying about being kicked from the team by him.

Throughout the movie, he can’t help but notice how comfortable he feels sitting next to Matthew. There’s an ease to their interaction, a quiet understanding that makes Gunwook’s heart flutter despite himself. Every now and then, he sneaks a glance at Matthew, only to find him already looking his way with a soft smile.

As the movie progresses, Gunwook thinks about how Matthew always goes out of his way to include him, how he’s the first to offer help during practice, and how he’s always there with a smile that seems to be just for him. He’s spent so long convincing himself that any affection from Matthew was just friendly, nothing more. But now, with the warmth of Matthew’s presence beside him, he wonders if there might be something more.

Gunwook’s thoughts are interrupted by a particularly funny scene in the movie, causing everyone to burst into laughter. When Gunwook with his own quiet laugh, he feels Matthew nudge him in the side. “Have you watched this movie before?” Matthew whispers, voice effectively tuned out by Gyuvin’s commentary. His hand find’s Gunwook’s under the blanket and taps it gently.

Startled, Gunwook looks at him, “Not really,” he answers, “But Jaehyun has, and he told us all about it.”

Matthew nods, pursing his lips as he settles deeper into the couch. He doesn’t say much for a few moments, but Gunwook can feel him glancing at him every now and then. “Gunwook,” he whispers again, sending an unwarranted chill down his spine.

“Yes?” Gunwook whispers back, his heart rate picking up.

“Can I hug you?”

Huh?

“Hanbin hyung says your hugs are great,” Matthew pouts, his voice almost indecipherable as Hanbin bursts into laughter at a stupid line in the movie. “Can’t I have one, too?”

Well…that’s out of the blue. Gunwook’s voice is frail as he speaks, “You’ve hugged me before.”

“Does that mean I can’t have another one?” Matthew's pout deepens, his eyes pleading. Gunwook’s mind races. He glances around the room, but everyone else is too engrossed in the movie to notice their quiet exchange.

He swallows hard, trying to keep his voice steady. “Of course, you can have another one.”

Matthew’s face lights up with a smile that makes Gunwook’s chest tighten. He hesitates for a moment, then shifts closer, wrapping his arms around Gunwook. The embrace is warm and firm, and Gunwook can’t help but relax into it, resting his cheek against Matthew’s hair.

Gunwook’s thoughts swirl. He’s hugged Matthew before, sure, but it’s never felt like this. There’s an intimacy to it, a sense of something unspoken but deeply felt. He exhales, allowing himself to savor the moment, the scent of Matthew’s cologne, the steady rise and fall of his breath.

Gunwook hugs him and he loves the way Matthew wraps around him, the way he can easily lean onto him, and how Matthew muffles his words into Gunwook’s chest. “Thank you,” Matthew whispers. It makes Gunwook want to protect him — a man very, very capable of protecting himself. 

Uh….no. Is this really happening to him? 

Being alone for a while, Gunwook had let the darkest thoughts of his mind take over, and take the reins of his train of thought. It isn’t healthy, he knows, but his treacherous mind had come to the conclusion that Gunwook isn’t special to him, that everything that has happened has been a new boundary crossed into a further close friendship. 

But…now…. Gunwook isn’t sure why the realization is just now settling in, but the weight of it feels immense. He had been trying so hard to convince himself that Matthew’s attention was nothing special, that he was just friendly, but now he can’t ignore the truth. 

As they settle back into the movie, Matthew deciding it’s better to just settle against his chest, Gunwook’s mind is a whirl of emotions.The room is filled with the sound of laughter and the occasional gasp at the plot twists. Gunwook and Matthew remain close,and Gunwook’s heart beats a little faster every time Matthew shifts closer, and he finds it hard to focus on the movie.

Matthew has to know what he’s doing. Gunwook feels like he will burst just from the confusion coursing through his veins.

Eventually, the movie comes to an end, and the room is filled with the sound of everyone stretching and yawning. Zhang Hao stands up, stretching his arms above his head. “Okay, that was not as bad as I thought it would be.”

“I told you, hyung,” Gyuvin laughs. “Comedy is not dead yet.”

“Debatable,” Ricky mumbles.

Gyuvin huffs, “You’re lying. You were laughing.”

“More at you. You looked funny.” Ricky huffs, rolling his eyes when Gyuvin makes hand motions in his face to bother him.

Hanbin, already half-asleep, mumbles something about crashing on the couch, and Zhang Hao just laughs, patting him on the head. “You act as if you won’t be in my room by morning.”

Taerae murmurs under his breath, “Ew. I’m surrounded by couples.”

Watching both the pairs interact, Gunwook shares the sentiment. “Right?”

But Taerae stares at Gunwook, unamused. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“What?” Gunwook furrows his eyebrows, but Taerae doesn’t respond.

“Oh shush, Taerae. If your precious Jiwoong were here, you’d be worse than us,” Zhang Hao shudders, the idea impossible to fathom.

Gyuvin gasps. “You like Coach?”

“Gyuv, why are you always so slow with these things?” Ricky bemuses.

“B-Because, Taerae hyung and Coach? I never could’ve put those two together. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You think Taerae hyung goes to our practices often because he loves basketball?” Gunwook asks. “Or do you think he talks to Coach after practice because he loves to ask about how we are doing?”

“I thought he just has so much love for us that he would visit us to support,” Gyuvin pouts.

Unfazed, Taerae stands. “Well, I am going to bed. I’m waking up at the ass crack of dawn to drive home. So good night!” He is out of the living room before anyone can stop him.

Whispering loudly to Ricky, “Did you really know? I can’t really see it.”

“Gyuv, let’s just head home,” Ricky stands, albeit fondly.

“I didn’t know either,” Matthew whispers into Gunwook’s ear, as if afraid anyone else will hear.

“Not you, too?” Gunwook turns to look at him, surprised when he sees how close Matthew is. He clears his throat, moving away minutely, enough for Gunwook to not start freaking out.

“No. I guess I’m just as oblivious,” Matthew grins widely. It’s catastrophic  —  his smile  —  and Gunwook gulps. 

It’s all so confusing. The logical part of his brain tells him to calm down, to play it cool, but another part, the part that’s been quietly hoping and longing, is screaming at him to pay attention, to not miss this moment. 

Gunwook’s eyes dart around the room, landing on his friends who are busy gathering their things, completely oblivious to the inner turmoil he’s experiencing. He wishes he could talk to someone about this, to get some advice or reassurance, but the fear of vulnerability keeps his mouth shut. 

Matthew’s smile softens, and Gunwook swears he can see something deeper in his eyes  —  something warm and genuine. It’s almost too much to handle. He feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down into the unknown. A part of him wants to take the leap, to see where it leads, but another part is terrified of the fall. 

Gunwook forces a smile, hoping it doesn’t look as shaky as it feels. He needs to keep it together, at least until he can sort out the chaos in his mind. For now, he’ll focus on getting through the rest of the night without making a fool of himself. 

“Matthew,” Zhang Hao interrupts. “You want to stay the night, too?” He sits Hanbin down on the couch, rubbing his back absentmindedly. “I’m sure you can sleep in either Taerae or Gunwook’s room. But the couch is free, too.”

Hell no. 

Gunwook's mind immediately kicks into overdrive. The idea of Matthew staying the night, possibly sharing a room with him, sends his thoughts spiraling. He tries to mask his panic with a casual expression, but he feels like his heart is about to burst out of his chest.

He glances at Matthew, who seems to be considering the offer, and Gunwook's anxiety spikes. What if Matthew says yes? What if they end up alone together, and Gunwook can’t keep his feelings in check?

No, he tells himself firmly. He needs to stay calm.

Gunwook's eyes dart to Gyuvin and Ricky, hoping they might say something to diffuse the situation. But they seem preoccupied with gathering their things, oblivious to his silent plea for help.

“I think I’ll take the couch,” Matthew finally replies, smiling as if he’s completely unaware of the internal chaos he's causing. “Don’t want to wake anyone up since I’ll probably have to leave early to meet with my friend. She wants to get brunch, but I think I’ll be dead in the morning,” Matthew releases a groan. 

Disappointment floods Gunwook’s veins, but there’s a sense of relief. At least he isn’t declining because he would be sleeping with Gunwook, but because there’s another logical reason.

“Cool,” Zhang Hao nods, turning his attention back to Hanbin. “Gunwookie, can you get him some blankets and pillows? Matthew, I’m sure you can steal some of my pajamas, too.”

A bit grateful for the distraction, Gunwook extracts himself from Matthew’s hold, walking towards the closet in the hallway. As everyone starts to settle down, Gunwook tries to focus on the logistics of finding spare bedding rather than the overwhelming thoughts about Matthew.

The hallway feels a bit too quiet as he pulls out the blankets and pillows. Gunwook's mind races, replaying every moment of the evening. Matthew's smile, his touch, the way he seemed so comfortable around him — it all feels like a dream, one he’s not ready to wake up from.

Returning to the living room, Gunwook hands the bedding to Matthew. Their fingers brush again, and Gunwook feels that familiar jolt of electricity. “Here you go,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Thanks, Gunwook,” Matthew replies, his smile as warm as ever. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Gunwook nods, avoiding eye contact to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. “No problem. Sleep well.”

“You too,” Matthew says, settling on the couch with the blanket wrapped around him. “And thanks again for letting me crash here.”

“Anytime,” Gunwook manages to say before retreating to his room.

Once inside, Gunwook lets out a deep breath. His room feels like a sanctuary, a place where he can finally let his guard down. He changes into his pajamas and climbs into bed, but sleep doesn’t come easily. His mind is too full of thoughts about Matthew, their interactions tonight, and the confusing feelings that have been growing inside him.

As he lies there, staring at the ceiling, his eyes drift to the stuffed animal on his nightstand. Gunwook reaches out and grabs it, holding it close to his chest. He thinks about Matthew’s smile, the way it lit up the room, and wonders what it would be like to have that kind of light in his life all the time.

He knows he needs to sort out his feelings, to figure out what he wants and how to go about it. But for now, he just wants to hold onto this moment, this night, and the possibility of what could be.

As he closes his eyes, the image of Matthew’s smile lingers in his mind, a comforting presence that helps him drift off to sleep. The stuffed animal in his arms, he allows himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, things will become clearer in the morning.

“Why are you so nervous?”

Gunwook exhales, failing to tie his shoes for the thousandth time. “I’m not.”

“You are,” Gyuvin points out knowingly, sitting next to him on the locker room bench. The room has emptied out by now, everyone having moved to the court. “I’ve never seen you this serious before.”

Gunwook bites his lip, trying to focus on the laces in his hands. He knows Gyuvin is right, but admitting it feels like admitting defeat. “It’s nothing,” he mutters, but his fingers fumble again, the laces slipping out of his grasp.

Gyuvin nudges him gently. “Come on, Gunwookie. You can talk to me.”

Despite knowing that’s true, Gunwook still hesitates. He knows he can trust him, can confide in him for anything. But it’s still nerve wracking. Gunwook clears his throat, staring at his shoe.

“It’s the first time since last year I’m going to be playing against another school,” Gunwook reveals, embarrassed. “It's stupid. But I think I’m just nervous about everything. Last year I wasn’t part of this team, and I’m nervous I’ll bring you guys down.”

“Nonsense,” Gyuvin shakes his head. Gunwook glances at him, observing his forgiving eyes, before turning away, too overwhelmed by the idea of being perceived as someone worth caring for. “You’re talented, Gunwook. You fit right in with us, and we led championships last year, don’t you remember? We will do so this year, too. I’m confident we will, especially with you on the team. If it makes you feel better, you aren’t a starter, so don’t worry too much, and this is just a scrimmage game.”

As unusual as it is, it actually does make him feel better. 

Gyuvin sits closer to him, trying to catch Gunwook’s eyes, but Gunwook remains stubborn, fiddling with his laces. “I’m sorry I haven’t really noticed,” he laments, and Gunwook hums in confusion.

What is it with his teammates feeling responsible for his feelings?

He attempts to ease his worries, “That’s not something you should worry about,” Gunwook murmurs, a single eyebrow arched in confusion.

“Well, I do,” Gyuvin intones, like he’s proud of it. And that’s just who Gyuvin is. He cares greatly, and holds so much love for those around him. Gunwook has learned to find appreciation in that instead of fear. “And I’ll be here if you need me,” he reaches out, taking Gunwook’s shoe laces into his own fingers.

“I just think I need some time to get used to it,” Gunwook says, watching as Gyuvin ties his shoe. It’s a small act that has Gunwook’s chest warming. “I’m just a bit scared that our game with KU is coming up soon.” As soon as he says it, he feels like there has been a huge weight lifted off his chest.

In thought, Gyuvin hums. “I see,” he says. “You’re afraid of seeing your old team, right? Especially that asshole from the party. What was his name?”

“Hyunwoo,” Gunwook replies instantly. “I know he will be an asshole on the court, too. He’s always been like that, so I’m not surprised he will be more of an asshole to someone who left the team.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Gyuvin says, nearly muted by his hesitance. “He seemed pretty mad.”

Gunwook pauses. “Yeah,” he offers simply. He doesn’t want to get into that topic, having to address the elephant in the room, especially when they have to be on the court very soon. 

“Just, remember that we’re a team, and beyond that, I’ll be here if you need me.”

“Thanks,” Gunwook says, immensely grateful. He doesn’t know how else to word it, but he hopes Gyuvin understands every emotion Gunwook finds hard to express. 

Gyuvin pats Gunwook’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go before Coach makes us run laps at practice for being late,” Gyuvin winces, standing up. He fixes his jersey and waits for Gunwook to follow as they exit the locker room. 

Gunwook is glad when he sees Zhang Hao and Taerae sitting in the front row of the audience section. There’s a younger boy sitting between them, looking around before he smiles when he spots them. The three of them wear their school merch, waving at Gunwook and Gyuvin as they pass by them. 

“Looks like we have our number one fans today,” Gyuvin laughs, waving back enthusiastically. “Yujinie!”

Gunwook shakes his head exasperatedly. “Let’s just go,” he motions to the chairs on the sidelines. Gunwook sits down in between Ricky and Jaehyun, both of them having finished warming up. 

“Here,” Ricky hands Gunwook his water bottle that Gunwook forgot at his dorm last week. “Washed it for you.”

Gunwook takes it, “Thanks, Rik.”

Ricky turns to Gyuvin with a grimace. “What?” 

“I didn’t do anything!” Gyuvin complains. 

“You were staring at me.”

Gunwook rolls his eyes, before redirecting his attention. “Hey, hyung,” he greets Jaehyun, who sits back with an amused expression. “How was the club?” 

Jaehyun beams. “Oh my god, you should’ve been there!” he exclaims. “It was crazy.”

“Sorry, we had plans. What happened?” Gunwook smiles, curious. 

Clearing this throat, “Okay, so you know how when we left a lot of us were sobering up already? Well so I thought that maybe we could play a little game, you know? To bring the energy back up. You know how I am when I’m drunk,” Gunwook has only drank with him once, but he can imagine. 

“So just a drinking game?” Gunwook fiddles with his water bottle. 

Jaehyun shakes his head. “We had made a bet, Eunseok and I, about who could get a girl’s number the fastest. And he ended up winning, getting this girl’s number, who goes here apparently. And guess what? Like five minutes later they’re making out by the bar. And guess who shows up?” He straightens his back with raised hands, intent on building up the suspense. 

“Who?” Gunwook inquires as he bites back a smile, entertained by his hyung’s excitement. 

“Her boyfriend,” Jaehyun reveals, with a shocked expression. He puts a hand to his chest, like the truth is impossible to believe. “Can you imagine? If Sungho and I hadn’t stepped in, there would’ve been a fight right then and there.”

“Wait, so she was kissing another guy while she has a boyfriend?”

“Had,” Eunseok corrects when he passes by, pointing at them as if insistent on clearing his name. “Not my fault!”

“Five minutes!” Jiwoong alerts them.

Before Eunseok can spill the details to the awaiting second years, he waves at them, following their coach. “Damn it,” Gyuvin says, having eavesdropped. He pouts, “He was about to tell us more.” Before Gunwook can reply, the chatter gets a bit louder, the rest of his team joining on the sidelines while the starters huddle around the coach.

Across the court, Gunwook spots their opposing team. It’s a school that is pretty close to SNU — Gyuvin had told him about how excited he was to meet them again. Apparently, he became friends with some of the players at last year’s retreat the two schools had gone to. 

“There they are,” Gyuvin smiles. “Riwoo hyung!” A boy snaps his head towards their direction when hearing his name. He returns the greeting with a motion of his hand. “He’s a starter this year,” Gyuvin informs them, excited on his own. 

The familiar static begins to fill his ears, but Gunwook pushes it away. This is just a scrimmage game, and he probably won’t be in game for long. 

But the worry doesn’t go away entirely. 

If Gunwook can recognize players, they’ll recognize him — wearing a completely different jersey. This idea used to haunt him. But Gunwook finds himself exhaling heavily, the concept settling a little easier now. 

He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. It’s just another game. He’s done this a thousand times before. Gunwook mentions, pushing all his thoughts to the back of his mind, “I recognize him.”

“You do?” Gyuvin looks at him, wide-eyed.

“I think you forget we played against the same schools last year, Gyuvin,” Gunwook says, a singular eyebrow arched with amusement. 

“Don’t mention the school that should not be named,” Gyuvin holds up a hand as if to push away the idea. “You’re SNU now.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

“You implied.”

“I did not.”

“Shut up, you two,” Ricky reprimands. “We’re starting.”

Gunwook looks around, spotting the starters on the court by now. It’s only when Matthew enters his line of vision that Gunwook presses his lips together. It hasn’t been that long since that hug in his living room, since they had that movie night with Matthew snuggled up to him. Something that Gunwook has an inkling he does with all of his friends.

Gunwook shifts on the bench, the wood hard and uncomfortable beneath him. He’s not a starter yet, so he watches as Matthew and the others take their positions on the court. The referee's whistle signals the start of the game, and the sound echoes through the gym. 

Matthew pays no one any mind as he stands near the center, his stance wide and ready. His focus is sharp, eyes scanning the opposing team. Gunwook can’t help but admire his form — the way he moves with such confidence and grace. As the game begins, Matthew immediately takes control, dribbling the ball down the court with ease.

Gunwook leans forward, elbows on his knees, watching intently. Every pass, every shot, every movement is calculated and precise. Hanbin and Matthew command the court, directing their teammates. The way Matthew effortlessly weaves through defenders, his quick pivots, and sharp turns leave Gunwook in awe.

Suddenly, Gunwook notices a shift in the opposing team’s strategy. They start to double-team Matthew, putting extra pressure on him. Matthew handles it well at first, but the aggression increases. The game intensifies, and Gunwook’s heart rate picks up with it.

In a particularly heated moment, Matthew makes a swift move towards the basket, attempting to drive past two defenders. 

Gunwook sees it happening in slow motion: Matthew is mid-jump for a layup when one of the defenders makes a desperate lunge, colliding with him in midair. Matthew’s body twists awkwardly, and he lands hard on his wrist.

A collective gasp ripples through the gym. Gunwook’s heart drops into his stomach. Matthew’s face is contorted in pain, his teammates quickly gathering around him. The referee blows the whistle, stopping the game.

“Shit,” Gunwook hears Ricky curse in English, their teammates grimacing as they watch the scene. Gunwook shares the sentiment, biting the inside of his cheek. Matthew is undoubtedly one of their best point guards. So Gunwook hopes it isn’t as bad as it seems — the entire team now watching with rapt attention.

“Oh no, is he okay?” Gyuvin murmurs. “It seems serious.”

Urgently, Jiwoong and the referee hurry over to Matthew, assessing the injury. The player from the other team, leans down to check on Matthew, looking apologetic when he notices the grimace on Matthew’s face.

Gunwook feels helpless, rooted to the spot as he watches Matthew struggle to sit up. The pain is evident in his eyes, but he tries to put on a brave face. The referee starts to examine his wrist, and Gunwook’s mind races with a thousand thoughts.

Jiwoong looks like he makes a decision, Hanbin nodding with seriousness. He helps Matthew stand and as Matthew is led to the bench, Gunwook makes his way over to where his hyung is sat down, heart pounding. He can see the pain etched on Matthew’s face, mixed with a look of frustration and disappointment.

“Hey,” Gunwook says softly, his voice trembling slightly. 

He takes the seat next to him, ignoring Hanbin’s glance at him. He throws all his caution to the wind — worry guiding his actions now. 

“You okay, hyung?”

Matthew looks up at him, forcing a weak smile. “I’ll be fine. Just a bad twist. Nothing too serious.”

Gunwook nods, swallowing hard. Gunwook wants to say more, to offer some kind of comfort, but the words fail him. Instead, he sits beside Matthew, their shoulders touching, offering silent support. 

After a moment, Jiwoong turns to the bench and calls out, "Park Gunwook, you're in!"

Gunwook’s heart skips a beat. He hadn’t expected to play so soon, especially not under these circumstances. His eyes dart to Matthew, who catches his gaze and gives him a reassuring nod, despite the pain etched on his face.

“Let’s go, Wookie!” Gyuvin encourages, gesturing with the movement of his head for Gunwook to go in. Gunwook nods to himself, standing up. He doesn’t think any further, simply addressing Jiwoong with a nod.

Stepping onto the court, Gunwook takes his position, his senses heightened. Gunwook has played against this team before — has met them last year. Gunwook remembers how the KU coach would have them analyze their play, to know how to break this team’s strategy from the inside out. This isn’t something Jiwoong put the SNU team up to. Perhaps because it isn’t an actual season game.

But Gunwook has something to prove — if not for everyone here, then to himself.

The game starts unceremoniously, the motions predictable and familiar. Before he knows it, the ball is passed to him, and he moves with purpose, his mind clear. He can hear Jiwoong’s voice calling plays, the sounds of the game sharp in his ears. The ball feels like an extension of himself as he dribbles, passing it to his teammates and taking shots with precision.

The opposing team is tough, but Gunwook’s determination is unwavering. He fights for every point, his focus unbreakable. With each successful play, his confidence grows. He can feel the support of his teammates, their trust in him pushing him to do better.

The game is intense, and the score is close. Gunwook’s heart pounds with each passing second. In a critical moment, he sees an opening and takes it, making a clean shot that swishes through the net. The crowd erupts in cheers, but Gunwook barely hears them, his focus solely on the game.

With only seconds left on the clock, Gunwook’s team is down by one point. He knows this is their last chance. Gunwook takes his position, his eyes meeting Matthew’s. Despite the distance, he can see the pride in Matthew’s eyes, and it gives him the final push he needs.

The ball is in play, and Gunwook moves swiftly. Recognizing a play he has seen before, Gunwook moves with a new sense of confidence, driven by the desire to make himself worthy of his position. He dodges defenders, his movements fluid and precise. 

Gunwook sets up for the final shot. But he finds himself blocked off. With merely a split second to make a decision, Gunwook dupes them, moving through the hole in their formation seamlessly. He approaches the hoop quickly, followed by the other team immediately.

Time seems to slow as he jumps, releasing the ball with perfect form. The gym falls silent as the ball sails through the air. It hits the rim and bounces once before dropping through the net. The buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game. His team cheers, those in the game coming to clap him on the back. He feels the weight of their hands, the warmth of their support grounding him in the moment. 

“Good work!” Hanbin comes to give him a hug, which Gunwook tiredly returns. That’s when Gunwook's eyes find Matthew, who is clapping and smiling despite his injury. As the team celebrates, Gunwook makes his way over to Matthew. 

Matthew grins widely, his eyes shining with pride. “That was good, Gunwookie,” he replies, his voice filled with admiration. Gunwook feels a flutter in his chest, the warmth of Matthew's praise seeping into his very bones.

“Thanks, hyung,” Gunwook says, shyly, his voice barely above a whisper. He can feel his cheeks heating up, and he hopes the dim lighting around the sidelines hides the blush.

“Yes!” Gyuvin appears at his side, practically falling onto Gunwook in a weird attempt at a hug. “I’m telling you, we are so making it to the championships this year.”

Chapter Text

KU had been Gunwook’s dream school since he was little, his own brothers and cousins having been students there at some point as well. It was only natural that Gunwook followed suit, studying at the university like his whole family. 

And luckily for him, he managed to get on a basketball scholarship, something he had dreamed of doing since he first started playing basketball. According to the messy ten year plan he had scribbled in a notebook when in middle school, it had all worked out the way he had planned it: playing college basketball at KU? Check! What else could he ask for? 

However, it was a couple weeks in of Gunwook’s freshman year when he first realized something was going on. He just didn’t know at the time that it wasn’t as good or fortunate as he had perceived it to be. 

Before the season had even started, Gunwook knew that he loved his team, his hyungs, and all the kids his age that he would hang out with often. They all welcomed Gunwook with open arms, aggressive but in a way Gunwook would write off as caring. They all shaped Gunwook into the freshman they wanted him to be — taking him out to parties, introducing him to girls, encouraging him to experiment with substances. At the time, Gunwook was ecstatic. 

But who he truly was happy to have met….was his captain. 

“Dongmin hyung,” Gunwook called, focusing on changing out his jersey. He knew that his captain would be on the other side of the locker room, the rustling of a duffle bag proof enough. “You were good out there.”

There was a hum, noncommittal, but enough to have Gunwook giddy that he finally got his attention. “Thanks,” was the reply. “Scrimmages are actually pretty easy to beat, you know?”

Gunwook nodded to himself, folding his clothes into his duffel bag as best as he could. He tried to think of something else to say, an excuse he can use just to talk to Dongmin a bit more. This was one of the only times Gunwook had ever been alone with him. Every other time, there were always people surrounding him. And Gunwook…he wanted to talk to his captain more, to get some advice, to have Dongmin mentor him. 

Because — all Gunwook ever wanted was to play basketball, to get better and be worthy of becoming a starter. He wanted to impress Coach, and his entire team as well. And talking to his captain might just help. 

“You’re staring,” Dongmin chuckled, his smile brightening when he saw Gunwook’s blush, the younger boy immediately clearing his throat in a failed attempt of feigning nonchalance. “Is there something on my face?”

Gunwook shook his head, almost frantically. “No! No, hyung,” he said awkwardly, but he knew he was still staring, eyes tracing along Dongmin’s dimples and his caring smile. “Just spaced out a bit, uh, yeah.”

Dongmin hummed again, like he didn’t believe him. Gunwook bit the inside of his cheek, watching as Dongmin zipped up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. 

Before Dongmin could leave, Gunwook took the leap. “Hyung,” he started simply. “Are you going back home?”

Nodding, as if it’s obvious, “Yeah.”

“Uhm, if you’re not too busy,” Gunwook stared down at his shoes. Here goes nothing . “I would like to talk to you about something.” 

The quaver in his tone must have caused some form of concern because Dongmin raised an eyebrow with a silent question. But after a moment, he nodded, motioning for Gunwook to sit on the locker room bench. “What’s up?”

Gunwook hurriedly obeyed, both eager and anxious. He waited until Dongmin settled next to him before he straightened his back. “I wanted to just ask you something.”

“What about?” Dongmin said, voice now softened. 

Gunwook gulped, “Um, well, ever since I came to KU, you’ve been very helpful and I admire you,” he chuckled nervously, “a lot . And I just wanted to ask if there’s any way, you know, you can help me,” he looked up to meet Dongmin’s eyes. 

“Help you?” Dongmin intoned. “In what way?” he leaned forward, curious. 

“Well, with my plays,” Gunwook exhaled. 

“Your plays?” Dongmin repeated, and Gunwook didn’t know if he had imagined the way he said it — but it was a bit… more different than he expected. “Which ones are you thinking of?”

Gunwook paused, now unsure what to say. 

He didn’t really know actually. He hoped maybe Dongmin could propose something to get the freshman ready to be a starter 101. But it seemed Dongmin wanted Gunwook to be self-aware of his own weaknesses. Yeah! That made more sense. 

“I-I’m not sure yet,” Gunwook managed. “But I was hoping you could help?” 

Dongmin hummed again, as if entertained. Then, he shifted closer until their thighs met, a contact that took Gunwook by surprise. The proximity was a lot closer than they ever had been before. But with Gunwook regarding Dongmin with stars in his eyes, he didn’t mind. 

“Well, maybe we can spend some time after practice to help you figure it out,” Dongmin proposed with an uplift in his tone that Gunwook had never heard before. 

But it didn’t matter. Dongmin was paying attention to him, looking at Gunwook positively instead of negatively, and he just confirmed he’d be okay spending extra time with him. So Gunwook simply nodded, smiling brightly. 

“Yes! Um, I mean, uh, yes. Thank you,” Gunwook hurried. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Dongmin replied. 

For a few weeks, it went like this: Dongmin would pay extra attention to Gunwook during practice. He would help the freshman when needed and give him adjustments that he deemed necessary, especially when the coach would reprimand Gunwook for something.

He would give Gunwook encouraging words, smiling as he patted his back, telling him that he had the natural talent, true talent, to succeed — he just needed to apply himself more, to reach out to Dongmin more. 

Gunwook thinks that maybe that’s when things went wrong. 

He had done everything Dongmin asked. He followed his instructions, he took his feedback to heart. 

Eventually, it morphed into Gunwook depending on Dongmin for nearly everything. Gunwook simply needed Dongmin’s opinion — his approval — for every tiny thing. It was irrational, something Gunwook was aware of himself, but he didn’t care. Because Dongmin cared about him. Dongmin took care of him, he paid attention and always looked out for Gunwook. 

“Hey, Gunwook,” Dongmin had stopped him after a practice once. Dongmin wiped his forehead with the hem of his jersey, and Gunwook followed the movement, staring at the older boy in awe. He always looked so cool after practicing. “I wanna talk to you, once everyone leaves,” he motioned his head towards the locker room. 

Gunwook understood immediately, smiling. “Of course,” he said quickly, gulping when he received a grin in return. “I’ll wait for you there.”

By the time the entire locker room was cleared out, Gunwook was sitting back on that locker room bench, scrolling absentmindedly on his phone to entertain himself while he waited for Dongmin to arrive. Dongmin had simply told him to stay put while he finished taking a shower, and Gunwook followed the command easily, crossing his legs on the bench like a good boy. 

Gunwook wasn’t sure how long he had waited before he heard footsteps approaching from the showers. 

“You’re still here,” Dongmin said suddenly, causing Gunwook to flinch, barely catching his phone before it slipped out of his hands. “You were so quiet, I thought you went home.” He walked over to his locker nonchalantly. 

But Gunwook was anything but nonchalant. He eyed the captain’s bare chest, the muscles that stood out along his skin, and the tattoo that danced across his ribs. Was he always this…cool?

“Like what you see?” Dongmin joked, his laugh echoing in the empty space. He proceeded to dress himself, uncaring for the swirl of thoughts now flooding Gunwook’s mind. 

“Oh, um,” Gunwook tried his best to will the blush on his cheeks away, to no avail. “You wanted to talk to me, so of course I stayed.”

Deep down, he hoped this would impress Dongmin, that he would praise Gunwook for his obedience, for his efforts to appease him. 

“Yeah,” Dongmin said instead, tone off. “About that…” Furrowing his eyebrows, Gunwook frowned. He watched as Dongmin finished dressing himself, turning to Gunwook with a stern expression. 

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Gunwook braved, voice now frail from the anxiety. “Did I do something?” 

Instead of the reassurance Gunwook expected, he’s met with, “Something like that.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the first time Gunwook thinks he’s ever felt true fear. 

A chill spread through his limbs, freezing him in his spot. He couldn’t handle seeing the harsh look Dongmin was giving him, but he couldn’t look away either. 

What did he do? Did Gunwook say something at practice that Dongmin didn’t like? Did he not do a drill correctly? Was he not…talking to him enough?

“I’m sorry,” Gunwook muttered, even though he didn’t know what for. All he knew was that he wanted to solve this quickly, to have Dongmin like him again, to be in his favor. He couldn’t have his own captain not like him. 

That’d make his entire experience on the team hell. The irony. 

“I don’t think you are, though,” Dongmin said slowly, approaching Gunwook so he stood over him, regarding the freshman who sat frozen on the bench. “Tell me, what did you do?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Then you lied to me then?” Icy. 

Gunwook nearly gasped. “No! Of course not. I just-I don’t know, but I’m sure I didn’t do anything on purpose.”

“Well,” Dongmin tilted his head. “My father had said something pretty interesting.”

“Coach?” Gunwook questioned, now fearful of what Dongmin’s father might have commented to him. It’s well known that Dongmin was able to become captain as a third year because of his father — but it didn’t mean Dongmin wasn’t worthy of it, in Gunwook’s opinion. If anything, it also made it easier to have the coach and captain communicate this way. 

“He said that a certain freshman has been going around asking some of the seniors for some help,” Dongmin sat down, leaning on his hand with his face now inches away. “I was just wondering if that was something you were ever going to tell me…or if it was something you’d keep hidden from me.”

For a moment, Gunwook had the audacity to think, Is it that serious? I’m just asking others to help me, too. Am I not allowed to do that?

But he reprimanded himself as soon as he realized just who was in front of him. 

“I’m sorry,” Gunwook said, feeling Dongmin’s breath on his lips. “I didn’t know it would bother you.”

“No, no,” Dongmin shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me really. I just wanted to make sure I had the facts, you know? I don’t want to be giving conflicting advice against the seniors, since I know you’d kind of trust them more.”

“No! That’s not true,” Gunwook rushed to correct it. “You’ve helped me so much. You obviously know more, don’t you? You’re our captain after all.”

That was when Gunwook had another scare of his life. Dongmin placed his hand on Gunwook’s, leaving the touch there like a cruel reward. 

Gunwook didn’t understand. He didn’t really know why he felt such a squeeze in his chest. He’d never felt this way before. Not even when he would hang out with the girls his hyungs would set him up with. But that comparison scared him, so he shelved it as quickly as it came to him. 

All he knew is that he wanted to make Dongmin proud. 

Staring at their touching hands, Gunwook swallowed. “I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?”

Dongmin hummed. “Yeah, how can you?” His fingers traced a pattern along Gunwook’s wrist. “There are some things that maybe I’d be interested in.”

Gunwook inhaled a shaky breath. None of it made sense, but he knew he didn’t want to upset Dongmin by pulling away. “Like what?” Gunwook inquired quietly. 

But Dongmin didn’t answer right away. Instead his eyes traced along the features of Gunwook’s face, analyzing him. Gunwook felt more restless as the seconds passed, fingers picking at the fabric of his bag. 

It felt so wrong , yet enticing enough that Gunwook couldn’t pull away. 

“Something like this,” Dongmin whispered. He leaned in slowly, but firm enough that Gunwook couldn’t dodge if he wanted to. 

Their lips connected, Dongmin’s soft ones against Gunwook’s trembling ones. It was strange, as this was Gunwook's first ever kiss. And it being with a boy just made it all more confusing. 

So Gunwook didn’t know if he was doing it correctly when Dongmin began to move his lips, as if caressing Gunwook’s with slow movements that sent shivers down Gunwook’s spine. It was soft and sweet, gentle enough that eventually Gunwook lost himself in the feeling. 

He allowed Dongmin to run his hand up Gunwook’s arm until it found its way on the back of Gunwook’s neck. He allowed Dongmin to graze his teeth along Gunwook’s lips. He allowed Dongmin to enter his mouth with his tongue, exploring and colliding with Gunwook’s ceremoniously. 

Gunwook let all of that happen. 

And looking back, Gunwook thinks if he had refused then and there, that maybe he could have salvaged himself. Maybe he wouldn’t be where he is now. Maybe he’d still play at KU. 

But against all future Gunwook’s wishes, things didn’t stop there, and Gunwook pities that boy in the locker room, the one that was pressed up against the lockers not even five minutes later. 

Because that boy didn’t know what was coming for him — all he knew was that his idol, a boy, was kissing him, and he didn’t want him to stop because Gunwook didn’t want to disappoint him. 

If only that young Gunwook knew things would end up worse than he ever could have imagined. 

After the game, the team gradually disperses to the locker rooms. The adrenaline of the victory still courses through Gunwook, even as he strips off his sweat-soaked jersey and heads for the showers. 

It had been quite a game, and quite a day. Their first scrimmage has ended successfully, with a friendly win and a promise of a celebration tomorrow night with his roommates. 

As Gunwook allows himself to simply breathe, the hot water washes away the sweat and tension. Once the steam clears, Gunwook towels off and dresses in his casual clothes. 

The locker room slowly empties out, teammates giving him claps on the back and words of encouragement as they head home. He waves Gyuvin and Ricky goodbye, making a mental note to ask Ricky for an update between the pair. 

Eventually, Gunwook finds himself slowly putting his stuff away when the locker room door opens again. And there he sees Matthew, gingerly cradling his swollen wrist. 

There’s a pang of…something that pulses in Gunwook’s chest. He watches as Matthew ignores him to sit on the bench with a resigned expression. But Gunwook is anything but deterred. He’s been injured before himself, so he knows how frustrating an injury like this can be, especially when it happened during a game. 

“Hey,” Gunwook says softly, approaching him. He gauges the soft exhales of his hyung, how his tousled hair covers the top of his eyes, and how he still is wearing his uniform. The locker room is eerily quiet now, the sounds of running water and distant laughter fading away. “How’s your wrist?”

Matthew looks up, his eyes bright despite the pain. “It’s not too bad. The medic said it’s just a sprain. Should be fine in a few days.” He gives a reassuring smile, but Gunwook can see the vulnerability in his expression.

Gunwook sits down next to him, his eyes fixed on Matthew’s wrist. It’s swollen and already starting to bruise. Gently, he reaches out, fingers brushing lightly against Matthew’s skin. He knows his fingers are cold, but he can’t help it. He grazes along the bruise, biting the inside of his cheek. 

No matter what hesitances Gunwook has had with Matthew, no matter the conflict in his mind, Gunwook wishes — and always will wish — for Matthew to be alright, to be okay. 

He never would dream of seeing the opposite. So seeing Matthew like this now, frowning at his wrist pains Gunwook. 

“You should really take it easy for a bit,” he murmurs, concern evident in his voice.

Seeming endeared, Matthew chuckles softly, a sound that sends a shiver down Gunwook’s spine. “I’ll be fine, Gunwookie.”

But Gunwook shakes his head. “You’re still hurt.”

Matthew smiles. “You’re worrying too much.”

“How can I not? You’re…” Gunwook hesitates, almost not knowing what to say. But he goes the easy route, “you’re one of our best players. I’m sure you want to play each game, don’t you?”

Huffing, Matthew looks away. “Speaking of… Coach said he’s probably going to sit me out until the season actually starts. He doesn’t want to risk me tiring my wrist out more. He isn’t going to let me practice next week either, which is completely unfair. The medic said I’ll probably be fine by like…tomorrow?”

“Didn’t you say a couple of days?” Gunwook intones. 

“That’s not important,” Matthew pouts. “What matters is that I’m probably not going to practice for a few days and I…it just sucks. I know I’m maybe exaggerating but…injuries like this can turn out badly if they don’t heal in time. And knowing that the season is coming, I’m worried I’ll make it worse. I’m only a third year, you know? And it’s not like I’m planning to go pro, so I only have next year left. But that’s still another season I have to worry about.”

“Hyung…” Gunwook looks down at the wrist in his hands, the colored skin a testament to how harsh the impact was. 

“And just…I don’t know if you’ve been through an injury like that, but I hurt my shoulder when I was little, enough that my doctor said it would probably bother me for the rest of my life. And hearing that from a doctor at such a young age isn’t the nicest thing,” he chuckles wryly. “My shoulder is fine now but… it’s just knowing that it’s completely possible for me to have an injury that will follow me for years to come, that it’s something I’ll have to worry about for a long time, it just scares me, just like it did when I was little. That’s why even though it is just a sprain, I’m scared it could’ve been worse.” 

Gunwook frowns. 

“I’m sorry, it’s probably stupid. I’m like completely fine and I’m here overthinking it,” Matthew lets the tears run down his cheeks. 

But Gunwook won’t have that. He gulps, gathering all his courage to wipe the wetness of his hyung’s face with his fingertips. “No, I get it, hyung. I do,” he reassures. 

“Sorry. I-I uh,” Matthew tries for a smile but it falls just as quickly. He looks away, as if ashamed and Gunwook almost whines. “This is embarrassing. You shouldn’t be seeing me like this.”

“No,” Gunwook whispers, refusing to let him pull away. He throws caution to the wind. Nothing matters now. He can’t let Matthew consume himself like this. “It’s okay, hyung.”

He wraps an arm around Matthew’s shoulders, hoping that the contact would ease him. Matthew did say he liked Gunwook’s hugs, and given how often he finds Matthew wrapped around someone during their practice breaks, physical contact like this is very likely to help. So Gunwook offers himself — as if the contact will ease him, too. 

And Matthew takes the bait, wrapping his free arm around Gunwook’s waist, letting his face fall against the younger boy’s chest. “Sorry,” he repeats. 

“No need for that, hyung,” Gunwook reprimands lightly, allowing Matthew’s own words from before flow through. Matthew exhales heavily, slumping against him, as if the words literally alleviated the weight of his worries. Gunwook hopes it’s true — that he was able to help him, to ease his anxiety…

To please him. 

Gunwook clears his throat. 

“As long as you’re resting, hyung,” Gunwook adds. “You’ll be okay. That’s all you can do. In the meantime, let us take the brunt of it. You’ll be back for the season, and it’s only a few weeks away,” he tries to say cheerfully. But he knows his words might not do enough. 

Against Gunwook’s expectations — as always — Matthew lifts his head enough so his cheek is still against Gunwook’s chest but he is looking up at the boy with bright eyes. “You know, you were amazing out there.” His voice is filled with genuine admiration, and Gunwook feels his cheeks heat up at the compliment.

“Thanks,” Gunwook mumbles, looking away in an attempt to hide his blush. He can feel his heart beating faster, a mix of embarrassment and something else he can’t quite name. 

But perhaps oblivious, “You know, we have been practicing together for weeks now,” Matthew continues, tone gentle. “But still, watching you actually in the game is different. I don’t really remember you much from last year if I’m being honest. So seeing you now, wearing our jersey, and kicking ass… it was really cool to see. A lot of the hyungs were gushing about you on the sidelines by the way,” Matthew shakes Gunwook lightly as if to emphasize his point. “They were surprised, not in a bad way, but hearing Coach call you in first before any of them, they got curious.”

Gunwook pauses. He didn’t think his team would be paying that close attention to him. It’s a bit nerve wracking now knowing they will have high expectations for him next time. But isn’t that what he wanted?

He licks his lips before murmuring, “I just...didn’t want to let you guys down.”

“You didn’t,” Matthew insists, his voice soft but firm. “You were incredible. We wouldn’t have won without you.” He smiles again, a warm, genuine smile that makes Gunwook’s lungs nearly spasm.

Gunwook swallows hard, trying to keep his emotions in check. Being this close to Matthew, especially when he’s so earnest and kind, is overwhelming. “I just did my best,” he says quietly, still unable to meet Matthew’s gaze.

Matthew doesn’t seem to notice Gunwook’s flustered state. Instead, he places his good hand on Gunwook’s arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Your best is more than enough, Gunwookie. You’ve got talent, you've got heart.”

You’ve got talent. You’ve got heart. You’re…special. 

No. This is different. 

Gunwook finally looks back, meeting Matthew’s eyes. There’s a sincerity there that takes his breath away, and for a moment, he forgets about the game, about the pain in Matthew’s wrist, about everything except the way Matthew is looking at him.  

“Thanks, hyung,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. In that moment, he realizes just how much Matthew’s words mean to him, and how much he wants to keep proving himself, not just to the team, but to Matthew as well. “That helps…a lot.”

“Does it?” Matthew says, voice gentle. 

Gunwook hums. “Yes. I think you’re one of the best players here and…” Gunwook stops himself, clearing his throat. He almost can’t find it in himself to say the words. 

“And?” Matthew muses in an attempt of encouragement. 

Gunwook curses internally — Matthew is terribly convincing. “And I admire you… a lot.”

Matthew makes a noise akin to a whine, surprising the younger boy, as he tightens his grip on Gunwook’s torso. “You’re so cute,” he says. 

And Gunwook thinks he probably has either saved or doomed the world in a past life because he can’t decipher what to feel about the grand surge of emotions coursing through him. All he knows is that Matthew is hanging off of him, with no inkling he is about to detach himself any time soon. 

But deep down Gunwook knows the truth. 

Matthew doesn’t mean it in that way. He calls the younger boys cute all the time. He’s cooed over the other boys many many times before. It isn’t unusual, or any…. special  treatment. So Gunwook tries to put himself back together. 

“Ah, thanks,” he says, a bit heartless. He can’t allow himself to believe. 

Maybe, he’s come to terms about what he’s feeling inside, what has begun to bloom foolishly without Gunwook’s permission — as if liking someone ever needed permission. 

But now projecting these thoughts onto Matthew seems wrong, especially if Gunwook begins to interpret all of his words in a non-platonic manner. 

It wouldn’t be fair to him. 

“You are,” Matthew smiles before going back to rest against Gunwook’s chest. “Which, you reminded me! Why don’t you come over? I’ll cook for you as a little celebration for today.”

Gunwook almost chokes on his own spit. Go over? To his apartment? Did he hear him right?

Raising an eyebrow, “Cook for me?” and the words sound frail. He attempts to joke, “Hanbin hyung said you can’t cook, though.” 

“I can!” Matthew laughs, a bit sheepishly. “Damn. I just wanted to impress you.”

Gunwook’s heart skips a beat. Impress him? Matthew doesn’t have to do much in all honesty. 

The playful admission, coupled with the genuine effort, makes his feelings even more confusing. “You don’t need to impress me,” Gunwook says softly, the blush returning to his cheeks. “But I’ll come over.”

Lifting his head, Matthew’s eyes light up with excitement. “Great! It’ll be fun, I promise. Even if the food isn’t,” he pouts. 

Gunwook feels his heart stutter in response. Weakly, Gunwook chuckles, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and confusion. 

After a few minutes of silence — of Matthew hanging off Gunwook like his life depends on it —  Matthew eventually hits the showers, too, and they gather their things and prepare to leave the locker room. As they walk side by side out of the doorway of the complex, Gunwook steals a glance at Matthew. 

Thankfully, he looks to be in better spirits than before — which is a win for Gunwook. At least Gunwook helped, in some way. 

“Hanbin hyung isn’t home, by the way,” Matthew informs, his voice casual. “He’s out with Hao hyung, so don’t worry about making noise.”

Gunwook gulps, nodding in agreement. He slowly removes his shoes, eyes exploring the hallway he has found himself in. Matthew and Hanbin’s apartment looks lived-in, in a way that makes Gunwook feel comfortable. 

There are some pictures hung on the walls, some obviously of the inhabitants from years prior, and some recent ones given how similar Matthew and Hanbin look in them. Gunwook inhales sharply, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and unease.

“Does he know I’m here?” Gunwook asks in a way of making conversation. He watches as Matthew finishes taking off his shoes to address the younger boy.

“Nope,” Matthew smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “But I never tell him if someone is over unless absolutely needed,” he adds, chuckling to himself.

And Gunwook goes bright red. Unless absolutely needed… The implication of Matthew’s words sends a flurry of confusing emotions through him. Why does Matthew’s nonchalance make his heart race?

“Plus—” A sudden thud interrupts Gunwook’s thoughts.

With wide eyes, Gunwook rushes to a giggling Matthew on the floor. “Hyung?” he calls out, concern lacing his voice.

Seemingly unfazed by the tumble he just had, Matthew clutches his ankle with a wide smile. “I’m okay!” he says, laughter bubbling up. “Let’s go to the kitchen, then. Help me?” He puts his arms out, and Gunwook sighs, a mix of exasperation and fondness filling him.

With every ounce of willpower he has, he gives in and helps Matthew stand up. “Careful, hyung,” he chides gently, feeling the warmth of Matthew’s arm around his shoulders. “You already have a joint to be careful of.”

Matthew simply ignores the jab and directs Gunwook further into the apartment. Gunwook follows obediently, glancing around as he is led to a chair in the kitchen and sat down by his hyung.

With Gunwook’s expectant eyes on him, Matthew glances around, a sheepish smile forming on his lips as he takes in the empty countertops and barren pantry. “Uh, well… I was going to cook for you, but it seems like I forgot to do the shopping.” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “How about takeout?”

Endeared, Gunwook laughs, shaking his head. “Takeout sounds great, hyung.” Anything sounds great with him. 

With the confirmation, Matthew brightens up, pulling out his phone to look up some options. He scoots his chair closer to Gunwook, leaning in and resting his head against Gunwook’s shoulder as they scroll through the menu together.

Gunwook’s mind races. Here he goes again….

The proximity, the casual intimacy — it’s all so confusing. He tries to focus on the menu, but Matthew’s warmth against him makes it nearly impossible.

“What do you feel like eating?” Matthew asks, his voice soft and close. He seems completely oblivious, continuing to melt deeper into Gunwook’s touch. 

Gunwook swallows hard, trying to ignore the way his body reacts to Matthew’s presence. “Anything is fine with me, hyung.”

Matthew hums thoughtfully, scrolling through the options. “How about some pizza? It’s always a safe bet.”

Gunwook thinks he could probably agree to anything Matthew says. So Gunwook nods, his mind barely registering the suggestion. “Pizza sounds good.”

Without preamble, Matthew places the order, still leaning against Gunwook’s shoulder. Humming, “Perfect. It’ll be here in about thirty minutes.”

Gunwook sneaks a glance at Matthew, who seems completely at ease, his eyes half-closed and a contented smile on his face as he reviews the order.

“Sounds good,” Gunwook manages, stiff as to not break the moment. He doesn’t want him to move away, not now. It's selfishness he is allowing himself. Just for a bit — he will allow himself to indulge. 

Then, Matthew shoots up. “Let’s go to my room? I heard you collect action figures, too, right? Let me show you mine!” His excitement is palpable. Gunwook finds himself holding back a smile.

“S-Sure,” Gunwook watches as Matthew jumps out his seat and grabs onto Gunwook’s wrist to pry him out of his own.

As Matthew tugs him towards his room, Gunwook can’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline mixed with a fluttering nervousness. Matthew’s room is a revelation, walls adorned with various posters of basketball players and bands, and shelves meticulously lined with an impressive collection of action figures and memorabilia.

Gunwook’s eyes widen as he takes in the array of figures, each positioned with care, showcasing battles and poses. “Wow,” Gunwook murmurs, genuinely impressed.

Matthew beams, pleased with the reaction. “Yeah, I’ve been collecting since I was a kid. Got some rare ones here.” He picks up a particularly detailed figure, handing it to Gunwook for a closer look.

Holding the figure delicately, Gunwook examines the craftsmanship, the intricate details making him appreciate the passion behind each piece. “This is amazing,” he says, handing it back carefully. 

Gunwook's eyes widen as he spots several figures, his gaze lingering on a particularly well-made figure. “You have Oikawa?” Gunwook's voice betrays his excitement as he steps closer, a longing glance at the figure.

Matthew chuckles, pleased. “Yeah, he's one of my favorites. You like him too?”

Gunwook nods, his enthusiasm bubbling over. “He's actually my favorite. I've been trying to get my hands on that figure for ages!”

“Well, feel free to drop by and hang out with him anytime,” Matthew jokes, yet there’s a sincere invitation in his tone. He then flops down on his bed, patting the space beside him. “Sit.” Gunwook takes the offered spot, the bed sinking slightly under their combined weight. 

“Your room is really nice,” Gunwook comments, eyes still traveling around the room. He attempts to gauge as much as he can — the room is a gateway to who Matthew is after all. And foolishly, he hopes he can find something within it all that no one else has.

Matthew chuckles, stretching his arms out along the headboard, making himself comfortable. “Thanks, I've put a lot of work into it,” he shares, a note of pride in his voice. His eyes follow Gunwook's gaze, a soft smile playing on his lips as he notices Gunwook's interest in the details. “More interested in my room than me, aren’t you?”

Gunwook’s eyes widen at the implication. “Uh, no, no, hyung,” he chuckles nervously, even though he knows Matthew says it to tease, his wide grin proof enough.

Matthew’s grin softens into a smile, his gaze lingering a moment longer before he shifts slightly, turning to face Gunwook more directly. “Uhm. I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Gunwookie.”

“What is it?” Gunwook furrows his eyebrows.

There is a hint of hesitance in the way Matthew bites his lower lip, before he exhales heavily. “With everything that’s happened lately, how are you doing?” 

There is a funny feeling in Gunwook’s chest and he can’t quite articulate what it means.

It seems like lately everyone has been checking on him incessantly — as if Gunwook needs it. And maybe he should feel annoyed about it by now, but hearing the concern leak from Matthew’s words, it instead makes him feel… warm?

“I’m doing okay.”

But Matthew doesn’t buy it. “It’s okay if you’re not. I know…uh, I don’t want to overstep but I worry, you know? Even though you were amazing in the game today, don’t think I couldn’t tell how scared you were. And I can only think of one thing that might have made you feel that way.”

“One thing?” Gunwook repeats. He can’t be that obvious. 

“Yeah,” Matthew lifts the corner of his mouth in a weak smile. He taps Gunwook’s wrist gently, the contact lingering before he pulls away. “Again, I won’t ask you to tell me directly. But you can talk to me about everything else. Your classes for example. I know they were stressing you out a while ago, yeah? I may not be the smartest but if I can help in some way let me know.”

Matthew…why is he doing this?

Gunwook clears his throat. “Thank, hyung,” is all he finds himself saying. 

“You know, if you ever need to talk or if you need anything at all, you can call me anytime. For anything, really," Matthew says earnestly, his tone laced with sincerity.

“I…” Gunwook gulps. 

“I really like you, Gunwookie,” Matthew adds before Gunwook can reply coherently.

And Gunwook feels like the rug has been pulled from underneath him. 

“You’re a really kind dongsaeng.”

Gunwook's thoughts stall, heart hammering in his chest. The clarification hangs in the air, almost more jarring than the initial admission. He had half-expected, half-hoped for something else, something more. But this — this was Matthew, always kind, always looking out for him.

“Thanks, hyung,” Gunwook manages, his voice a whisper almost swallowed by the room. He tries to smile, to show he appreciates it, but inside, he’s wrestling with a tangle of relief and slight disappointment.

Matthew seems oblivious to the internal turmoil he's stirred, his smile gentle and eyes warm. “You're easy to like, Gunwookie. Always helping out, always with a good attitude. It’s hard not to care, you know?”

Gunwook nods, the simple gesture heavy with all the things he can't quite express. “I—thanks, hyung. That means a lot coming from you,” he says, his voice steadier than he feels. Inside, his thoughts churn — a tempest of admiration, confusion, and a nagging whisper of hope that refuses to be silenced. Why does he feel both seen and hidden at the same time?

The room is quiet for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling around them like dust. Gunwook feels every second stretch out, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. 

He wonders what Matthew sees when he looks at him, what he thinks beyond the platitudes. Does he sense the affection Gunwook harbors, so carefully concealed behind layers of respect and admiration?

Is this a punishment? 

Gunwook had indulged in his wants long ago, with someone he had believed in wholeheartedly, only to be left grappling with the aftermath of betrayal and hurt. He shouldn't be selfish enough to want again. He must place boundaries and leave it at that.

Maybe…maybe, this is exactly what he needs. To be liked for who he is, even if it isn’t the way he sometimes dreams. To be appreciated by someone who matters profoundly to him, even if not in every way he wishes. Yet, a part of him still holds onto a thread of hope, silently asking the universe for a little more.

Matthew's smile widens, and he nods, clearly pleased to have made his point. “You’ve been through a lot. Obviously, I don’t know everything, but… remember, you're not alone here. We're teammates, but more importantly, we're friends.”

The word 'friends' echoes in Gunwook's mind, a bittersweet reminder of his place. 

Yes, friends. That’s safe. That’s necessary. 

Gunwook forces a smile, his heart aching with the effort of keeping his deeper feelings at bay.

“Friends,” Gunwook echoes, and he hopes his voice doesn't betray the confusion inside him. He glances around the room, desperate to anchor his thoughts to something tangible. His eyes land on a photograph on Matthew’s desk, a moment of laughter captured in time, and he wonders about the stories behind each smile.

Perhaps, he thinks, this is just another lesson in restraint, in understanding the boundaries of heartache and hope. But deep down, Gunwook carries a small flame of something undefinable, flickering stubbornly against the practicality of his decisions.

Matthew hums absentmindedly before tilting his head. “Want to watch something? I heard you’ve been gushing about that new anime to everyone on the team. Maybe I should give it a try?”

Grateful for the change in topic, Gunwook nods. “Yeah, we should watch it.”

With an encouraging nudge from Matthew, they eventually settle into the living room, the earlier tension dissipating slightly as Matthew sets up an episode on the TV. 

“We can watch here, if that's okay?” Matthew suggests, indicating the cozy arrangement of the couch with a wave of his hand.

Gunwook nods, his mind still buzzing from their conversation, but grateful for the distraction. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Matthew grins, pulling a blanket off the back of the sofa and tossing it towards Gunwook. Matthew seems satisfied with this arrangement, sinking down next to Gunwook with an easy grace. He grabs the remote and starts to look through the selection of shows, making small comments about some he’s already watched and others he has heard reviews of. 

And Gunwook? He sits silently, observing his hyung with a careful gaze. Hearing Matthew talk so passionately about something is truly a sight to see. 

There’s something so endearing about it — watching Matthew engage with Gunwook, smiling when he acknowledges any theory Matthew is trying to get across or when Gunwook nods at one of his rhetorical questions. 

“That’s why I wanted to wait to watch this one,” Matthew points to the television screen. “Watching a horror movie alone is no fun. Plus, one time, I watched one with Hao hyung and his screaming was probably the most entertaining part of it all.” He giggles behind his hand. 

“You don’t get scared?”

“Me? Of course not. It’s not like it’s real, you know? It’s more fun seeing others get scared. Even Taerae did one time, and he’s impenetrable sometimes. Like I used to think he was invincible but I guess you can’t withstand jump scares all the time.”

Gunwook purses his lips, “Yeah, I don’t get scared much either.”

Matthew laughs. “I feel like you’re the kind of guy people cling to instead.”

“That’s…” actually true. “Well, Hao hyung did not stop holding my hand once, and he isn’t very much of a skinship person with me.” 

“See?” Matthew pushes his shoulder softly. “You’re more the comforting type. Like you can make someone feel safe, you know?”

Huh?

“Safe?”

But before Gunwook can get the clarification he so desperately needs, the sound of the doorbell interrupts their conversation. Matthew jumps up, "That must be the pizza," he announces cheerfully and heads to the door.

Gunwook waits patiently, exhaling heavily as he attempts to recollect himself. He’s already allowed himself too much at this point. And everything — every single word that’s come out of Matthew’s mouth — has elicited a reaction Gunwook wants to avoid. And Gunwook has tried to refrain himself from asking more. He doesn’t think he’d be able to bear any more. 

Returning with a steaming box, Matthew sets it down on the coffee table and opens it, revealing an aroma that fills the room. Gunwook's stomach growls in appreciation. With an excited grin, Matthew picks up a slice, holding it out to Gunwook. "Try it, it's my favorite combo."

Obediently, Gunwook takes the slice, biting into it with a hum of approval. Matthew eats his own share, laughing when Gunwook spills some sauce accidentally and apologizes profusely. 

Like the kind soul he is, Matthew waves it off, instead being an attentive host as he cleans up after them and ushering Gunwook back onto the couch once he finishes.

As the episode finally plays, Matthew's laughter and comments add a layer of enjoyment that Gunwook hadn't anticipated. It's easy, this moment between them, free from the weight of unspoken things — just two friends enjoying an anime together. 

Yet, as Matthew shifts slightly, his shoulder brushing against Gunwook's, that familiar warmth spreads through him again, gentle and terrifying all at once.

It’s a bit of dejavú. Not even that long ago, they were sharing a blanket together on a couch just like this. 

Fuck. How does Gunwook keep landing into situations like this? He needs to just enjoy the simplicity of this moment, to not overthink Matthew's proximity or the way his laughter seems to make everything a little brighter. 

But as they dive deeper into the episodes, Gunwook's thoughts drift, wondering if maybe, just maybe, there's a chance that Matthew might feel something more, just like he does.

Eventually, Gunwook's eyelids begin to feel heavy as the warmth from the blanket and the comfortable silence between them lull him. The soft glow of the television screen and the quiet murmur of the anime blend into a soothing backdrop. 

Matthew's presence beside him, steady and close, becomes a grounding force, steadying Gunwook's fluttering heart.

He leans slightly into the cushion, his head tilting towards Matthew as his resistance to sleep weakens. Each episode seems to blur into the next, and Gunwook's last conscious thought is a wish to stay in this moment forever — safe, warm, and next to Matthew.

As he drifts off, Gunwook's breathing evens out, and he slips into a gentle sleep right there on the couch. Matthew notices, a smile spreading across his face as he carefully adjusts the blanket over both of them. He doesn't move away; instead, he shifts just enough to offer support, letting Gunwook rest against him more comfortably.

Gunwook doesn’t know how long he’s been out when the sound of keys and hushed voices stir Gunwook from his sleep. 

He opens his eyes to see Hanbin and Zhang Hao quietly making their way in, stopping short when they notice the pair on the couch. Their expressions shift from surprise to amused smiles. 

And Gunwook can only imagine what they must be thinking. 

In the dim light of the living room, Gunwook can just make out Matthew's relaxed form next to him, his head resting lightly against Gunwook’s shoulder, breathing even and calm. 

Gunwook's own head is tilted slightly, leaning against the back of the couch, creating a makeshift pillow from the armrest. The blanket, slightly askew from their shifting, covers them both, Matthew's hand resting unconsciously near Gunwook's arm, a touch that seems both accidental and fitting.

Gunwook, too sleepy to engage, simply narrows his eyes at the couple, a silent acknowledgment of their return. Without another word, Gunwook shifts slightly, making himself more comfortable, and closes his eyes again. 

As Gunwook drifts back towards sleep, he's vaguely aware of Hanbin and Zhang Hao whispering to each other, their voices a low murmur in the quiet of the apartment. He can feel Matthew's steady presence beside him, a comforting constant as he hovers on the edge of consciousness.

“Look at them,” Hanbin's voice breaks through the haze, slightly louder now, tinged with amusement. “Didn't take long for our couch to become a guest bed, huh?”

Zhang Hao responds, his voice softer, a gentle laugh carrying across the room. “Let them be, baby. They look like they could use the rest, you guys just had a game.”

As Hanbin and Zhang Hao retreat towards their room, the sound of their soft footsteps fading, Gunwook adjusts the blanket over himself and Matthew, careful not to disturb the peaceful scene. 

With a sigh, Gunwook shifts again, finding a more comfortable position against Matthew. The warmth from Matthew's body and the softness of the blanket coax him back into a deep sleep, the earlier stirrings of wakefulness quickly fading away.

Chapter Text

Love. 

What is love?

The concept had always seemed foreign to Gunwook. Something so trivial and fantasy-like that he never thought he would ever actually get to experience it. 

Love is that feeling where you believe that everything in the world is alright, that no matter what comes ahead, having that special someone beside you will make it all worthwhile. That’s what his mother had said. 

Or maybe love is that sense of security, contentment in knowing that no matter what, you have a foundation to fall back on. Safety. That’s what his father said. 

Or perhaps love is blinding, a strong emotion that rushes through you before you can even stop it, consuming you until you have nothing left to give. It’s dangerous, yet powerful. That’s what his brother said. 

But there were times during Gunwook’s first year at KU where he felt like he didn’t resonate with any of these definitions of love. They all seemed wrong — not like he knew love. 

Maybe his brother was a bit right. To Gunwook, love was dangerous just as much as it was powerful, but not in the way his brother had preached. 

Because to Gunwook — love was… harsh . Love was tough, and unforgiving. Love was a lesson, and unbeknownst to him, a weapon. 

It didn’t give him the sensations of security nor relief his parents had promised. His love actually forbade them. But it felt right. This was what Gunwook had asked for, hadn’t he? He asked for care and love and help from the one person Gunwook allowed to consume him. 

And it was only right that Gunwook did his part. Even when he didn’t like it. 

So every time Gunwook would get punished in practice, he told himself it was for his own good. 

Every time Dongmin would evade his affections, even when it was just between the two of them, Gunwook knew he did something to deserve that. How could Gunwook ask for something from his boyfriend when he hadn’t earned it yet? That was selfish. 

Every time Dongmin would have their coach be extra hard on Gunwook when the freshman would accidentally say or do something he didn’t like, Gunwook would punish himself and dig his nails into his palm. At least his determination would make Dongmin proud. 

Every time Dongmin would count how many shots Gunwook missed during practice and reused that count as the number of days he would straight up ignore him, Gunwook spent those days practicing — even if it meant not eating. How could he when he needed that time to get better? How else will Dongmin find the pity to forgive him?

Every time Dongmin would lie to the team about their relationship, Gunwook told himself that they just weren’t ready. They just needed more time. It’s not like they had been together long. A couple months! That’s nothing. They could wait to tell their closest friends. 

Soon enough, practices themselves began to turn sour. 

Because practice wasn’t practice anymore. They were either a punishment or a privilege. 

And slowly, Gunwook’s love for basketball began to dwindle, replaced by an anxiety he just was never able to shake off. 

“You’re so obedient, aren’t you?” Dongmin slurred, breath reeking of alcohol. 

It caused Gunwook to crinkle his nose at the smell, nearly stumbling with the weight of his captain against his side. Sidestepping around people walking inside the property and into the house, Gunwook spotted some steps that led to the backyard of the house. 

It was devoid of people, most of them moving inside the house. So Gunwook struggled to take the grown man against him to those steps, setting him down carefully as Dongmin basically flopped onto the floor. 

“Hyung,” Gunwook panted. “Are you doing okay?” Dongmin didn’t reply, opting to look up at Gunwook where the freshman sat carefully next to him. “Hyung?”

As Dongmin continued to simply stare without response, Gunwook began to panic. He had never dealt with drunk people before — having been the one the hyungs would take care of instead. And this was another new level. 

“Yes,” Dongmin grumbled, the rest of his sentence incomprehensible. 

Sighing, Gunwook pulled out his phone. He was two seconds away from calling one of their teammates for help when Dongmin snatched the phone out of his hands. “Hyung?” Gunwook gasped. 

“Who are you calling?” Dongmin mumbled, leaning back when Gunwook tried to take back his phone. “Who said you could?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Gunwook voiced, “What do you mean?” 

“You know what I mean.” Dongmin’s tone was back to the one he would only use when lecturing, when Gunwook fucked up, when he did something bad . 

Gunwook knew Dongmin’s tones like the back of his hand. And this one wasn’t good. “I’m sorry,” Gunwook tried to appease him quickly, chest squeezing at the thought of what Dongmin would do. 

“And here I thought you knew,” Dongmin pushed at Gunwook’s chest harshly with his pointer finger, “how to listen.” He wasn’t making any sense, but his words had Gunwook biting the inside of his cheek. 

“I just want to make you feel better. Are you sick?” Gunwook asked quietly, as if scared to startle him. He didn’t want to set him off more — in fear that any word or movement would cause him to dive into another rambling. 

Dongmin, again, didn’t reply. Instead, he pushed forward, lips catching the edge of Gunwook’s mouth. Their lips didn’t successfully connect, but the intent was clear. 

Gunwook pushed him away firmly, inhaling sharply. “Hyung…”

“You’ll have me kiss you in the locker rooms, but now you won’t kiss me here?” Dongmin laughed — as if it was Gunwook who initiated every time in that locked room. But it wasn’t. 

“It’s not that,” Gunwook started but was effectively shushed when Dongmin scoffed. 

“You aren’t still mad about earlier, are you?” Dongmin asked mockingly. 

Yes. 

But Gunwook caught himself. “No,” he replied wryly. “Of course not, hyung. Why would I be?”

“After pulling that tantrum,” Dongmin slurred, sitting up and placing his hands on Gunwook’s shoulders. “You are still keeping yourself from me.”

The memory played painfully in Gunwook’s head, his sobriety a curse to him now. 

“That’s not it,” Gunwook cleared his throat, pressing his lips together when Dongmin began to grip his shoulders tighter. “Just…not in the locker room, and especially not here.”

“Oh? So now you’re choosy?” Dongmin cackled to himself, the prospect hilarious to him. “Maybe I’ve gone too soft on you.” 

And Gunwook’s first instinct was to disagree. He hadn’t. In fact, it was quite the opposite. But as Dongmin stared into his eyes, cold and daring, there was only one acceptable response. 

Maybe he had. 

Gunwook didn’t reply, the sprouting idea that it was Gunwook’s fault they had ended up here ashening his eyes. 

He wasn’t being mindful again. He’d deprived Dongmin of way too much. But then there was that nasty thought that accompanied this guilt — Dongmin would tell his father and if Gunwook didn’t treat him like he deserved, Gunwook could kiss that scholarship goodbye. 

That’s what Dongmin had sneered at him earlier that day, when the older man had trapped Gunwook in one of the showers, encouraging them to go further, only for Gunwook to refuse. Gunwook was a virgin, and that fact both excited and frustrated Dongmin, because he wanted him then, right there without any protest. 

But when Gunwook had refused, Dongmin said it was like he was teasing him, like Gunwook enjoyed messing with him, that Gunwook wasn’t actually nervous, that Gunwook was a natural. 

But none of that was true. 

“Are you listening?” Dongmin grumbled, nearly losing his balance as he sat up. 

“Yes,” Gunwook responded simply. 

“You aren’t,” Dongmin scoffed. 

Gunwook didn’t bother to reply then. He was finally realizing there was no point in arguing with a drunk Dongmin. Or even a sober one if he’s being honest. 

For the rest of that night, Dongmin made Gunwook’s experience at the party a living hell. But it was an experience that he withstood without complaint, because it is a privilege in itself to even go to an SNU party, especially with the captain. The captain was paying so much attention to him. The least Gunwook could be was grateful. 

And that night, when Gunwook traveled back to his dorm, somehow managing to drop Dongmin off with another one of their friends — a choice that will get Gunwook more punishments the days coming — he turned and twisted in bed, wondering what the nasty, growing hole inside his heart was from. 

Why did he feel this way? Why did he have to react in that way? Why can’t he just be easy and give when Dongmin wants and refrain when he doesn’t?

Because… it was always about Dongmin , wasn’t it? Never about Gunwook. Fuck Gunwook, then?

That was the first time Gunwook had ever come to such a conclusion. But it was as scary as it was shocking, so he stuffed the idea far, far in the back of his head. 

And for the months to come, he ignored his intuitions just like that. Fooling himself into believing that he was always the one at fault. And Dongmin was the one that had always been wronged. 

Even as the tears would stream down his cheeks and he would berate himself for wanting something as simple as affection from the one person whose title as a boyfriend would guarantee that, it was always somehow Gunwook’s fault. 

Always. 

“Gyuvin, no.”

“Gunwook, yes!”

“No,” Gunwook remains firm, tone exasperated. “You sound way too suspicious and I’m not going to involve myself.”

“Please, I swear it isn’t bad! Just for a bit?” Gyuvin pleads, his fingers pinched together in a gesture that suggests minimal effort required on Gunwook’s part. But as Gunwook surveys him across their usual spot in the campus library — a corner that feels like their own personal territory — he can't help but feel the plan is absurdly ill-conceived.

“Why do you need me ?” Gunwook challenges, his skepticism clear as he shakes his head in disbelief, returning his focus to his notes. 

“Because,” Gyuvin stutters, pressing his lips together. “I just…please? I don’t know what I can do but I’ll do anything,” he resigns, putting his hands together in a praying motion. 

Gunwook observes him, noting the sheer desperation emitting off of Gyuvin’s form and it almost makes him sad. “I’m not agreeing yet,” Gunwook cautions before Gyuvin can prematurely celebrate.“But, what exactly do you need me to do?”

Nevertheless, Gyuvin beams. “Thank you so much!” he exhales with a dramatic flair, maintaining a mindful volume. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he reaches over to pull Gunwook in a hug. 

“I haven’t…done anything yet,” Gunwook mumbles as Gyuvin moves away. “Answer my question.”

Gyuvin exhales heavily, as if preparing himself. “So, I know this may be a shock to you, but….I kind of like Ricky,” Gyuvin confesses, words delivered in rapid succession. 

There’s a brief pause where Gyuvin stares at Gunwook almost terrified and Gunwook stares back with indifference. 

“Okay?” Gunwook prompts, a bit confused. “Did you expect me to castrate you or what?”

“You aren’t surprised?” Gyuvin asks, shocked himself. 

“No,” Gunwook replies languorously, the very idea too absurd to entertain. “Now, hurry up. What do you want me to do?”

Gyuvin didn’t verbatim say he wants to make Ricky jealous , it’s obviously clear now what he is trying to set up, even if his roundabout way of asking leaves little to the imagination for Gunwook.

“Well,” Gyuvin clears his throat, shutting his notebook and sliding it aside, like their exam in the next two days isn’t that important. “It’s simple, okay? I just need you to post me more and be more, I don’t know…be more touchy with me? And! I know this sounds weird but hear me out.”

Gunwook doesn’t have the heart to tell Gyuvin that Ricky has already been jealous because of him, and there doesn’t need to be this elaborate scheme to have Ricky pining at Gyuvin’s feet.

Idiots, both of them.

“Yes, this is weird. It’s not like you don’t post me enough. I think everyone on your instagram and their mom knows me by now,” Gunwook retorts as he rolls his eyes. 

“But they’re practice videos, or of us with somebody else!” Gyuvin begins to defend. “That won’t be enough, it hasn’t been enough.”

Wrong. Gunwook has been on the other side of Ricky’s deadly eyes. 

“And what will you accomplish with this?” Gunwook probes further. 

This has Gyuvin pause. “I’m,” he says dumbly. 

Gunwook waits and waits, so over seeing the pair circle around each other that he needs Gyuvin to admit it more clearly. It’s painful. 

“Well, I want him to…you know,” Gyuvin lifts his shoulder in a half-shrug, “miss me…or just…want my attention.”

Mumbling under his breath, “You don’t have to try too hard.”

“What?” Gyuvin leans in, having missed the quiet remark.

“Nothing,” Gunwook shakes his head. 

Moving on, “I’ll do anything. I’ll owe you for the rest of the semester!”

“The semester ends in a couple weeks.”

Gyuvin waves a hand dismissively, “Same thing!”

“It is not—”

“Please!” Gyuvin adds, his voice bordering too loud for a library, even in their secluded corner. “I just…I don’t know what else to do.”

“How about confessing?” Gunwook suggests incredulously. 

“Never,” Gyuvin shuts it down immediately. 

“Never? Then will you just be a pining mess for the rest of your life or what?”

“Look…Ricky, as much as I know him, there are some things about him that I can’t always put my finger on. And this is one of them,” Gyuvin sighs, deflating in his seat. He fidgets with his sleeves. “I just don’t know how to approach it. I’m scared he will reject me. I’d rather have him make a move first. More directly, you know?”

Gunwook hums. 

It’d be a lie for Gunwook to say he doesn’t know what he’s trying to say. 

Because there was a time, a year ago,  when no matter what sign or signal he would at first interpret as flirty, he would simply brush it off as something between friends. 

Eventually, it took a while before Gunwook started to realize just what was happening and how small advances he thought were indeed small and friendly, were certainly not. 

“Okay,” Gunwook says. 

“Okay?” Gyuvin furrows his eyebrows. 

“I’ll help,” Gunwook relents with a resigned sigh. 

Although he knows the healthiest option would be for Gyuvin to confess outright, he understands that pushing him into a direct confrontation wouldn't work. He also recognizes that sometimes, seeing is believing. If Gyuvin could see the signs for himself, perhaps he'd find the clarity he needed.

Clarity... Gunwook chews on the inside of his cheek, contemplating. Oh, what he wouldn't give to have some of that himself right now.

“Are you serious?” Gyuvin gasps, eyes wide in surprise. He reaches over to smack the pencil out of Gunwook’s grip and takes the hand in his. “I’ll forever thank you. Oh my god. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you—”

“Can you shut up?” A girl hisses a few tables away from them. “Some people are trying to study.”

Gunwook purses his lips. There’s an unspoken rule that this side of the library is open to conversation, far from the bookkeepers and student helpers who are known to be pretty strict with the noise. Gunwook doesn’t pay it any mind, but Gyuvin does. 

Squinting his eyes toward her, Gyuvin smirks mischievously. Pointing a smug finger at her, “Aren’t you the girl in our history class that tripped at the front of the lecture hall when you came in late once?”

The girl, Minjeong if Gunwook remembers correctly, scoffs while setting her highlighter down roughly. “Kim Gyuvin, if you don’t—”

“Hey, can you please be quiet?” Another student speaks up, more timid than the girl before her. 

“Oh! Look who is making noise now,” Gyuvin mocks a pout. 

Minjeong simply rolls her eyes and returns to her work just as Gyuvin turns to Gunwook with a smile. 

“Anyways,” Gyuvin continues, as if the interaction never happened. “Let’s start right now.”

“Right now?” Gunwook repeats. “What do you want me to do?”

“Take a picture, duh,” Gyuvin enunciates. “Like a cute library date!”

Gunwook gulps. Ricky is so gonna kill him. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Gunwook asks slowly. “I don’t want Ricky hyung to kill me,” he voices openly. 

“Yes,” Gyuvin nods instantly. 

Barely managing to restrain himself from tackling the man, Gunwook takes out his phone, noting the eyes watching his every move. 

As he unlocks his phone, Gunwook notices a missed notification. He taps on it, revealing a message from Matthew that had gone unnoticed amidst the earlier commotion. It's a link to a tweet — an anime meme about the series they had recently binged together. 

Matthew Hyung 🏀

[link]

bro this killed me 😭 lmaooo

Gunwook can't help but crack a smile, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. It was just like Matthew to find humor in the smallest things, sharing it in his straightforward, endearing way.

After that night when they both fell asleep on the couch, Gunwook had woken up alone, a sticky note attached to his face in place of Matthew's presence. It was a simple message, written in Matthew's hurried scrawl: " Had to leave early, sorry! - Matthew ". He hadn't seen Matthew that morning, and something about waking up alone felt both relieving and disappointing.

Since then, Matthew has taken to texting Gunwook more frequently. Most of their exchanges revolve around anime or updates about basketball practice, yet even these brief interactions were enough to brighten Gunwook's day. Every ping from his phone brings a subtle thrill, a small smile dancing on his lips before he even reads the message. 

“Hey, what's that?” Gyuvin leans over, trying to catch a glimpse of Gunwook's screen.

“Just Matthew hyung,” Gunwook explains, shifting the phone slightly out of Gyuvin's overly curious gaze.

Gyuvin's expression shifts to a teasing smirk. "Oh? And what does Matthew hyung have to say?" he prods.

Gunwook rolls his eyes, locking his phone and slipping it back into his pocket. “Nothing much. Now, about this picture—“ he redirects the conversation back to Gyuvin's precarious plan, even as part of his mind remains on Matthew's message, warmed by the simple interaction.

“Perfect distraction, huh?” Gyuvin chuckles, pulling out his own phone. “Okay, act natural. We're just two friends, studying and definitely not plotting anything.”

Gunwook nods, posing stiffly with a book he hadn't even been reading, aware of the absurdity of the situation. As Gyuvin snaps a few photos, Gunwook’s thoughts linger on Matthew’s message, considering the ease and comfort of their exchanges. 

Maybe he should text back something equally light-hearted? Or perhaps, Gunwook muses, he could use this as an excuse to invite Matthew for a real-life anime marathon.

Before he knows it, Gyuvin is giggling as he preps the pictures to post on his story. “Since we post a lot together anyways, the caption has to be more misleading, right?” 

Not really paying attention — a fatal mistake — Gunwook just nods along, turning back to look at his own phone. Matthew’s message sits there ominously, almost taunting him. Biting his lip, Gunwook thinks over some options. Hmm… should he just send a couple emojis, or ask about his day? Wouldn’t hurt. 

He’s found himself wanting to know more about Matthew lately. There’s something about the memory of Matthew’s warmth radiating off his body that night, tucked against Gunwook’s side so innocently, that gets Gunwook so curious about him. It sends a flutter in his stomach. 

Me

💀💀💀

lololllll

we should watch the new ep next week 2gether

As soon as Gunwook clicks send, he lets out a heavy breath. Fuck. That was risky, wasn’t it? He can almost hear Ricky’s laugh in his head — ‘That was risky?’

He doesn’t have to ponder Matthew’s reaction long because his phone vibrates once more. 

Matthew Hyung 🏀

uhhhh😧  duh???? 😝😝😝😝

i told u 😡😡 

☺️ u aren’t allowed to watch any more ep w out me 🤪🤪

Gunwook can almost picture his pout. He’s so cute. 

Me

😖 ofc hyung

wouldn’t dare watch it w anyone else

He wouldn’t dare cuddle up to anyone else like the pair had done last time either . Even thinking about it sends a blush to flourish along his features. 

“You’re smiling to yourself again,” Gyuvin notes monotonously. He doesn’t look up from his phone. 

“I’m not,” Gunwook scoffs, setting his phone down. “Now finish your little post. I wanna go grab something to eat.”

“Oh! Ricky saw it,” Gyuvin giggles to himself. 

And Gunwook knows he’s done for when he gets a new text and instead of it being Matthew’s….

Ricky Rick

Gunwook. 

“Gyuvin,” he mutters through gritted teeth, his frustration palpable as he buries his face in his palm. He's not ready for this confrontation. “What did you post?” 

Like a deer stuck in the headlights, Gyuvin clears his throat, gaze bouncing between Gunwook and his phone. “Just something…” He stutters. 

Another ping. 

Ricky Rick

Where are you guys right now. 

Anxious beyond belief, Gunwook ventures to instagram, finding the notification of being tagged in Gyuvin’s story. 

There with a nice lighthearted song playing, the picture of Gyuvin had taken of them is paired with a caption that reads “ first library date! 🥰🥰 here is to many more <3 ”.

With a tense jaw, Gunwook looks at Gyuvin in disbelief. “Don’t you think this is too forward?” he asks, his voice strained with worry. “You’re supposed to make him jealous, not push him away.”

“But it’ll work, won’t it?” Gyuvin crosses his arms defensively, not privy to the fact that Ricky is camping in Gunwook’s messages menacingly. 

“Oh it’ll work,” Gunwook shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“You really think so?” Gyuvin leans in, his voice laced with hope and naivety. 

Gunwook fixes him with a look of incredulity. “Do you really think anyone seeing that won’t think there’s something up?” Gunwook sighs. “Just…delete it before Ricky murders me.”

“He won’t murder you,” Gyuvin waves his hand dismissively. “He has to actually like me to do that.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Are you hearing yourself?”

Another ping. Gunwook shoots Gyuvin a withering look before reluctantly unlocking his phone once more, bracing himself for a veiled threat from Ricky. Yet, unexpectedly, the message that sends his heart into overdrive doesn’t come from Ricky. 

Matthew Hyung 🏀

just saw gyuvin’s story

you still in the library? 

was gonna invite u to eat…

The lack of emojis has Gunwook a bit stressed. What tone is he saying this in? Is he being accusatory? Surely, everyone is aware of the unspoken tension between Ricky and Gyuvin. Or is Gunwook overanalyzing again? He must be...

“Gyuvin, delete it please,” Gunwook implores, his voice edging towards desperation. 

“Why?” Gyuvin leans over to peek at his phone and this time Gunwook is too distraught to hide it before he can see. “Oh, is that hyung?” 

“Yes,” Gunwook deadpans, resigning to his fate. He leaves the phone on the table in defeat. 

“Wait, is he jealous?” Gyuvin grins wide. “See? I’m a genius!”

“Of course he isn’t,” Gunwook stutters. “Just, let’s make another plan. Or just no plan. This was stupid anyways.”

“No! It’s working isn’t it?” Gyuvin hushes close to his ear. “Don’t you like hyung?” 

“What?” he blurts, putting a hand over his mouth when he realizes his volume. “What are you talking about?”

Gunwook’s stomach twists. The reality of his own conflicted emotions surfaces, making him wish he could just sink into the floor. 

Yes, he’s drawn to Matthew, more than he’s willing to admit, even to himself. But acknowledging this aloud feels like stepping into a minefield.

“Gunwook. Don’t bullshit me,” he says languidly. “You admitted it last time.”

“Uhm, I did not ,” Gunwook says, offended. 

“Says the one who got upset over the fact that someone might like Matthew,” Gyuvin mocks a nod. “Yeah, I totally get you now.”

“That’s…that’s not what happened,” Gunwook tries to dismiss him. 

“Yes it is,” Gyuvin intones stubbornly. 

Gunwook groans internally. He doesn’t want to continue the conversation on this path. “Will you just delete it? Ricky saw it already.” 

“I saw what?” A voice comes from behind them. 

Gyuvin's fingers freeze mid-air above his phone screen, his eyes wide with the kind of panic that only a caught mischief-maker knows. And Gunwook feels his stomach drop, an unpleasant swirl of dread mixing with the embarrassment heating his cheeks. He slowly turns, his movements stiff with apprehension, to face the source of the voice.

Ricky stands there, an eyebrow quirked, his posture relaxed yet undeniably imposing. The bemused tilt of his lips doesn't quite reach his eyes, which flick between Gyuvin and Gunwook with sharp curiosity.

Wow. He moves fast. 

Gunwook’s eyes dart to Gyuvin, silently pleading for some miraculous intervention that would salvage the situation.

“Oh hey, Ricky!” Gyuvin chuckles nervously. “Did you just leave class? How was it?”

“It went good,” he replies quietly, now shooting Gunwook a meaningful glare — something Gyuvin seems completely oblivious to. “But you would have known if you’d gone. What are you doing here?”

Before Gyuvin can incriminate them further, Gunwook clears his throat, and with his voice low, “Just studying,” he motions towards the shut textbooks before them. 

With a raised eyebrow, Ricky simply hums and takes a seat next to Gyuvin. Before Gunwook can continue in an attempt to get himself out of the equation, his phone vibrates again. 

Matthew Hyung 🏀

wait sorry. r u gonna be busy with gyuvin ?

we can go another day

i just haven’t seen you in so long..

Why must he phrase it this way? Gunwook can’t help but read too much into it because friends don’t word things that way. 

But when he looks up to catch Ricky and Gyuvin in what seems to be a hushed, but tense, conversation, he realizes that Gyuvin has told him things like this before…

And if Gyuvin can say these things, Matthew definitely can, too. He probably talks this way with everyone. 

Me

oh no hyung

it’s fine

i’m going to leave rn anyways

ricky came 

so they’re gonna hang out

and i’d rather not be there with them

cause yk how they are

haha 😣

A bit mortified over his rambling, he looks away from the screen. “Uhm, guys. I’m gonna have to leave,” Gunwook interrupts quietly, beginning to put his things away. 

Gyuvin furrows his eyebrows, “Didn’t you want to go eat? Continue our date?”

Gunwook resists the urge to jump over the table and strangle him, but he’s a bit too afraid that Ricky will take the initiative and do just that to him . 

Matthew Hyung 🏀

then you want to go eat with me? 🥰🥰🥰

At least the emojis are back. 

Addressing the nosy pair before him, “Uh,” Gunwook grins wryly. “I’m going to…Ima…”

“Oh…I see what's going on,” Gyuvin crosses his arms inquisitively. “You’re leaving me for another man.”

“Oh my god. Shut up,” Gunwook rolls his eyes, standing up. “I’ll text you two later after you figure your shit out,” he says simply, turning around to exit before the pair can counter him. 

It would be a lie to say that Gunwook isn’t disappointed when he shows up to the campus restaurant to see someone more than just Matthew at the table. Gunwook had hoped foolishly that it would just be him and Matthew having lunch together. 

Gunwook hesitates at the threshold of the restaurant, his eyes scanning the group gathered around the table where Matthew sits. Laughter and lively conversation flow easily among them, and while Taerae is animatedly recounting a story, Matthew waves Gunwook over with a bright smile.

“Gunwookie, over here!” Matthew calls out, his voice cutting through the ambient noise of the busy restaurant.

With a forced smile, Gunwook approaches, his heart sinking slightly with each step. He had imagined a quieter setting, perhaps a chance to talk more privately with Matthew, but reality paints a different picture. 

As he sits down, the familiar faces of Taerae, Zhang Hao, and Hanbin greet him, each offering a warm welcome that does little to ease the twist of disappointment in his stomach.

“Hey, hyungs,” Gunwook greets as enthusiastically as he can, shooting Matthew a quick glance before he clears his throat. “How have you been? Have you ordered?”

Hanbin nods, “Yes! We didn’t know if you’d come since you were with Gyuvin, but I’ll go with you right now to help you order.”

“Oh,” Gunwook tilts his head at the mention of the disaster he left back in that library. “Yeah…”

Nosy in his own right, Zhang Hao pokes Gunwook’s shoulder, “Which is something I am curious about actually. Because I’m wondering if you being in that library has anything to do with all the messages our Ricky was spamming me with, talking about, and I quote, ‘Traitor friends’ and ‘You really think you know someone.’” he recites dramatically. 

Matthew laughs silently behind his hand while Gunwook grimaces slightly, an embarrassed chuckle escaping him as he fidgets with the napkin in front of him. 

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Gunwook admits, his voice tinged with resignation. “Gyuvin was... being Gyuvin. He thought making Ricky jealous in the library with a fake date post would somehow spark some grand romantic revelation.”

“Oh, so he really was joking?” Matthew interjects, curiosity evident.

Breathless, “Of course…” Gunwook replies, but before he can think it over further, Taerae raises an eyebrow, his interest clearly piqued. 

“And let me guess, you were the unlucky co-star in this drama?”

Gunwook nods, his cheeks heating at the memory. “I didn't know he'd actually post anything. I thought we were just joking around until I saw my phone blowing up.”

“Well, knowing them, even this won’t get their heads out of their asses,” Zhang Hao sighs tiredly. The reason is obvious enough. Even now, they’re probably making excuses for themselves and Gunwook harbors the hope that Gyuvin isn’t implicating him as one. 

Matthew moves in his seat, his movement drawing nearer to Gunwook as he loops an arm around his. “At least you’re here now.”

The tiny, rebellious part of Gunwook’s mind that’s been growing overly audacious lately nearly bellows, is this his way of being possessive???  

Yet, Gunwook quickly grounds himself before the thought takes root. “In one piece, thankfully,” Gunwook replies, his laugh tinged with nerves, his pulse quickening as Matthew offers him a tender smile. Ahhhh. Why does he do this?

Before Gunwook can add on, Matthew begins to stand up. “Come on, I’ll go order with you,” he tugs on Gunwook’s arm. Out of the corner of his eye, Gunwook catches Hanbin exchanging a swift, inscrutable glance with Zhang Hao, which dissipates before it can be deciphered.

“Sure, hyung,” Gunwook responds, offering a fleeting wave to the remaining trio before being led away by Matthew.

As they approach the counter to order, the hustle of the campus restaurant hums around them, a background noise that seems to momentarily isolate them in their own little bubble. Matthew scans the menu posted above the counter, his arm now casually draped around Gunwook's torso.

“What are you in the mood for?” Matthew asks, glancing up at him with a curious tilt of his head.

Gunwook points towards one of the meals, “Thinking of trying that today. It looks good.” Matthew smiles approvingly, giving Gunwook's shoulder a gentle squeeze before letting go to talk to the cashier.

Once their orders are placed, they step aside to wait, and Matthew leans against the counter, facing Gunwook. “How are you holding up though? Actually. We have our scrimmage coming up and all I know is you’ve been studying like crazy.”

A bit sheepish, Gunwook looks down at his shoes. “Not really…”

But Matthew shakes his head and steps closer. “Who knew you were so studious, too? On top of being one of our best players,” Matthew trails off. 

It’s scary how fast it happens, how one moment he feels perfectly fine, and in the next, he’s over analyzing every single word he’s uttered. 

And to think that maybe Gunwook would be over it by now. But maybe it was his tone, or how often Gunwook has been thinking about him as of late. Maybe he’s been too stressed, or too disoriented. He’s had to worry so much over both school and basketball these past few weeks. This is probably nothing. Right?

“Best?” Gunwook exhales mainly in shock. Now Matthew is just messing with him. “Hyung…”

“What?” Matthew shrugs shamelessly instead, like the implication doesn’t affect him. 

Matthew's playful smirk pulls a reluctant grin from Gunwook. "Don't inflate my ego too much," Gunwook chuckles nervously, warmth flooding his cheeks.

Matthew’s laughter is easy and comforting, closing the small distance between them even as they speak. “But it’s true. You balance everything so well. It's impressive, Gunwookie.”

Out of his element, Gunwook shifts uncomfortably, not anymore used to such direct praise from someone he respects in this way. The shadow attached to his back shifts with him, beginning to twist those initial butterflies into something nasty. 

Matthew is simply complimenting him. He’s simply hyping up a teammate. Is there anything wrong with that? There shouldn’t be. 

Their conversation is interrupted as the cashier calls out their order number. 

“Come on,” Matthew directs before rushing forward to the worker with a smile.

Gunwook follows, his thoughts racing. Each step feels heavier than usual, burdened with the weight of his past — a past where praise was a precursor to manipulation and control. He watches Matthew's easy demeanor, the effortless way he interacts with the staff, and for a moment, Gunwook allows himself to bask in the simplicity of their interaction.

As they walk back to their table with trays laden with food, Gunwook can't help but replay Matthew's words in his mind. It's impressive, Gunwookie. 

Such simple words, yet they echo loudly in his ears, mingling with memories of a time when such compliments had a price. 

Why does this feel like walking on a tightrope? The internal struggle to accept genuine kindness without suspicion is gnawing at him. 

Matthew seems oblivious to the turmoil he’s stirred within Gunwook. He’s just being friendly, just being Matthew, with no hidden agendas — at least that’s what everything apparently suggests. 

Shouldn’t I be used to this by now? Gunwook chides himself silently. Shouldn’t I be able to accept that not everyone has a motive behind their kindness? But old fears are hard to shake, and Gunwook finds himself analyzing every gesture, every word, as if they might reveal a deeper, darker motive. 

He hates that he does this, hates that his past still has such a firm grip on his present, coloring his perceptions and interactions.Maybe this is what they mean by 'old habits die hard’. 

Attentive, he sets the tray down on their chosen table. He offers Matthew a smile, one that doesn't quite reach his eyes but serves its purpose — to mask the confusion and caution swirling within.

As they settle into their seats and Matthew joins in on their hyungs who had continued chatting about a funny incident from their last practice, Gunwook tries to anchor himself in the present, in the reality that not everyone is like him . 

But just his luck…

“And since that last game,” Hanbin sips from his drink loudly and absentmindedly. “ Especially after SeokMae’s little tumble,” he smiles when Matthew sends him a pout, “we’ve been getting pretty much all wins.”

“Really?” Taerae gasps genuinely. “Wait, haven’t there just been two games?”

“You would have known that if you went to the last one,” Zhang Hao muses.

“I missed only one game.”

“One game too many. How could you not go and support their fake games?”

“They’re not fake ,” Matthew retorts.

Zhang Hao rolls his eyes. “You’re not in season yet.”

“But it’s still a game.”

“With no stakes,” Taerae deadpans.

“Except for our dignity.”

“Which you also do not have,” Taerae says undeterred.

They’ve had only two of the four scrimmage games their team had decided to have before the end of the semester. Which brings forth the one ordeal Gunwook had not wanted to deal with — his old school.

“And next week is against KU,” Zhang Hao points out to a disgruntled Taerae, “so you better be there, and I think since the rest of the school got wind of it, everyone else will be.”

“Woah,” Gunwook interrupts, “The whole school?”

Perhaps understanding, Hanbin lets out a quiet wince. “Yeah,” he addresses Gunwook. “And while I usually would not see it as a problem, I know this game might be very uncomfortable for you already given the….uhm… the circumstances.”

“The circumstances,” Gunwook repeats dumbly, inhaling heavily as he picks at his food. 

“Would you…” Zhang Hao pauses, but Gunwook recognizes his worry immediately. “Is he able to just….not go?” He directs this question to the captain beside him. 

Hanbin remains silent for a moment, mulling the possibility over. “On one hand,” he clears his throat as he straightens his posture. “I think it would be fine, but I know Coach wouldn’t like that.”

“Why not?” Zhang Hao asks, as if offended for Gunwook, uncaring if it’s Hanbin who is on the receiving end. 

“Because…KU is a school right here in Seoul. It’d be pretty hard to avoid them for the next couple of years,” Hanbin reasons. 

“That’s not what—”

“But still. Is the issue considered resolved?” Zhang Hao probes, eyes fixed on Gunwook. A couple of weeks ago, Gunwook had hinted to Zhang Hao very, very vaguely about what had really occurred at KU. They were minute details, ones that didn’t say the entire story, but they laid the ground for the full picture enough that Zhang Hao seemed to understand it all perfectly. 

“Technically,” Gunwook inhales heavily, steeling himself, “it is. So, it’s no problem, hyung. I’ll have to do it someday anyways.”

“Let me finish,” Hanbin muses with a smile. “On the other hand, you aren’t a starter,” he points out, “So having you missing won’t be much of a problem.”

A sense of relief rushes through Gunwook. But it doesn’t last long. 

“But the caveat, is that…” Hanbin’s gaze drags to Matthew with a hint of regret. 

“I’m out,” Matthew picks up, somber. “And considering Coach subbed you in twice now…” That is true. The last scrimmage game, Gunwook was put in for the majority of the game, which isn’t peculiar in itself, but considering he’s about to plan an escape…

“But don’t you think he’d understand?” Taerae chimes in, taking a sip from his drink before shrugging. “He isn’t heartless, you know.”

“Coach would be more likely to tell Gunwook to show them he isn’t affected,” Hanbin explains, before addressing Gunwook, “which…I would agree with.”

A blanket of silence settles around them, the background noise of students hustling about the restaurant filling their ears. It’s like a moment suspended in time, Matthew and Taerae glancing between a frozen Gunwook and a sheepish Hanbin, with a fuming Zhang Hao. 

The tension clings to Gunwook like a second skin, thick and suffocating as he grapples with the thought of facing his past so publicly. “That’s not helpful,” Zhang Hao finally says, words clipped. 

“You could have worded that better…” Matthew mumbles. 

“Guys, it’s okay,” Gunwook intervenes hastily. “He’s…he’s right.”

But Matthew seems to have had enough. “Gunwook…Did you forget what happened at the party? When whatever-his-name-is walked up on us like that? I knew KU was full of pricks but…now the fact they know you joined SNU…I feel like it won’t be as clean of a game as it should be.”

“It’s never been a clean game with them…” Gunwook admits, forcing a strained smile. “Take that from someone who was KU.”

“I wasn’t gonna say it,” Zhang Hao mutters under his breath, raising his hands as if he would rather not touch the topic further. 

“Okay,” Hanbin exhales, a note of resignation in his tone. “I can try to talk to Coach. No promises though,” he points at Gunwook.

Grasping at any semblance of hope, Gunwook nods gratefully.  “Thank you, hyung,” he says. Yet, the dread remains, a constant companion whispering doubts and fears, as he forces himself to focus on the present conversation — a vain attempt to drown out the storm within.

With a heavy heart, Gunwook watches as Zhang Hao leans in to whisper into Hanbin’s ear, the topic forgotten. However, Matthew leans into Gunwook, lowering his voice, “You okay?”

Gunwook shrugs noncommittally, his eyes tracing the patterns on the tabletop. “It's just… a lot, you know?” 

It is stuff Gunwook should be able to handle on his own. And it's embarrassing that he isn’t able to. This was the game he started a year ago, one that he escalated since that last day in that locker room. It was one he was a willing player in. He’s lived a good couple months now, a short reprieve from memories better left forgotten. He shouldn’t be complaining. It isn’t as if he is being forced to return.

Seeing them in person again won’t do much. He just won’t go anywhere alone. He’ll stick to Gyuvin and Ricky like glue, he will make sure to avert his gaze, and keep any thoughts to himself. He can blend in — or at least he can try. It won’t be too difficult. It shouldn't be. 

“It’s ok,” Matthew attempts to reassure him, eyes desperately trying to meet Gunwook’s — but Gunwook knows if he succeeds, he won’t be able to hold back any longer. 

“I know,” Gunwook whispers instead before turning to Taerae. “Hyung, how’s your club doing?”

Amidst a relentless routine of studies and basketball practice, Gunwook barely finds a moment to breathe, yet his life is punctuated by a few precious constants that bring him some form of peace. 

Every evening, he unwinds over dinner with his roommates, their chatter a comforting ritual in the chaos of his daily life. He laughs over the bickering and arguments that run rampant in the second years group chat he had been dumped into a couple of days ago. He goes to practice with Gyuvin and Ricky, sits through their insufferable attempts at flirting (more like Gyuvin’s insufferable attempts), and goes through the drills as he always has. 

But it’s the text messages from Matthew that truly brighten his days, transforming routine into something more meaningful. Their texts, which began as simple check-ins, have woven into a fabric of deeper conversation. 

It isn’t much different than before. It really isn’t. But every time Gunwook waves at Matthew at practice, he knows a little more about how his day had gone without asking. It’s a bit exhilarating — knowing something everyone else at practice does not. 

Suck that, Mysterious Guy with a Crush on Matthew. 

That’s another thing. Gunwook has been thinking of Mysterious Guy with a Crush on Matthew more often lately. 

And it’s completely Gunwook’s fault. 

He’s let himself go these past few days. He’s allowed that feeling of possessiveness to fester and grow — as if he has any right whatsoever to do so. But it’s not like he can stop now — it doesn’t mean he has been able to quell the gnawing feeling of guilt that threatens to suffocate him every time he feels the jealousy take root. 

He knows it is probably irrational. He shouldn’t feel this way when he sees one of the hyungs allow Matthew to cling to them, or ask about their day. It’s not as if Gunwook has any right, and….look, he gets it. Matthew looks amazing. 

Gunwook knows looks aren’t everything but…God Damn. Matthew after practice, with his jersey and headband, is certainly a sight to behold, one that Gunwook tries his hardest to remain sane over. And in addition to the constant little comments Matthew makes throughout the day — as if he genuinely cares about how Gunwook is doing, how his class is going, if he ate yet — don’t help.

He feels like he is constantly walking along a tightrope, one stretching and rolling, threatening to unleash every impulse Gunwook has. But he knows how to behave. He won’t allow himself to go any further. Friendly conversations, exchanges are enough. They’re enough. 

That’s a line Gunwook recognizes. One he has learned his lesson over.

Hyung and dongsaeng. 

That should be enough. Nothing more.

Thus, their conversations never delve deeper into more serious topics, like their upcoming game. Matthew remains a bit more careful when it comes to that, something Gunwook is grateful for. Gunwook has tried his hardest to not think of the topic himself. After Hanbin had promised to discuss with their coach about it, he hadn’t received more word of it — which is code for he probably isn’t going to let that, Gunwook purposely missing the game, slide . 

And Gunwook has worked too hard to stay on Jiwoong’s good side to flip now. 

So on the unfortunate day when Matthew finally finds some form of incentive to ask…

Matthew Hyung 🏀

so… 😌😌😌

Me

yes, hyung?

Matthew Hyung 🏀

what r u gonna be doing this friday ? 😣

Me

friday?

we have the game, remember?

Matthew Hyung 🏀

gunwookie ‼️😧

that’s exactly what i mean 🙃

Yeah, Gunwook knows what he means. He just doesn’t think he can talk about this any more.

Me

I know….

Idk

I feel like there snt much for me to do anyways

i'll play as we should, as we have

Matthew Hyung 🏀

should we ditch? 😀

Me

ditch? you?

even when benched, i think coach will notice his first point guard missing

Matthew Hyung 🏀

No one has to know, gunwookie☺️☺️

you wouldnt want to go with me? 😣😣😣

Me

with u? of course.

with u? of co |

with u? |

|

coach wouldn’t like that

i have to pull my weight, yk?

Matthew Hyung 🏀

you don't have to do anythingggggg😉

I just don't want you to feel bad.

I don't want to see my gunwookie sad

‘my gunwookie’? Is he insane ? Gunwook's heart skips a beat, but he swallows the fluttering in his chest, trying to focus.

Me

hyung…..

idk

It isn;t that i don't want to go with u

but…. I think Coach would know

And i don't want u to get in trouble because of me

Matthew Hyung 🏀

u think too much ! >.< 🤪🤪

coach has a soft spot for me, yk?🥸

plus, he doesn't need me!!

Me

Hanbin hyung does

Matthew Hyung 🏀

hanbin hyung has hao hyung 😵🥱🥱🥱

he can make him feel better🤤

dont ya think?🙄

Me

true…..

but still

Matthew Hyung 🏀

or 

just forget i said anything

im sorry if i made u uncomfortable

Me

No

Hyung , u didnt

I just….its a lot to process

I hvnt rlly had a lot of time to think about this, yk?

and plus….i think hanbin hyung was right

Matthew Hyung 🏀

About what?

Me

About showin them i'm not affected

I think it would say more if they find out i'm not there

I was never one to miss a game before

And plus….i think enough time has passed. I shouldnt be this affected.

Matthew Hyung 🏀

but if u are

thats ok, too

u understand that, right?

tell me u do

Gunwook hesitates, a knot forming in his stomach. He's right. But still...

Me

yes

I promise

I know

Matthew Hyung 🏀

then ure sure?

super sure?

bc u know that ill help

Me

Yes

Thank u hyung

I rlly appreciate it

what would i do without u? |

Gunwook pauses, his fingers hovering over the send button. There's a lot he wants to say, a lot he wants to thank Matthew for, but words feel insufficient.

what would i d |

wha |

|

Matthew Hyung 🏀

i told u already

no need for thanks

I would do it bc i want to

Gunwook stares at his phone screen, the light casting sharp contrasts on his features as he contemplates the whirlwind of emotions Matthew's messages have stirred. A palpable mix of reluctance and temptation tugs at him — temptation, because the thought of dodging a painful confrontation with his past is more appealing than he'd like to admit; reluctance, because deep down, he knows evading this game might haunt him longer than facing it would.

Gunwook slides his phone into his pocket, the weight of the decision settling heavily in his mind. He pushes himself off the edge of the table where he'd been sitting alone, navigating his way through the bustling campus to a quieter spot. The cold autumn air bites at his cheeks as he finds solace on a secluded bench under a shedding tree, the rustling leaves a soft soundtrack to his tumultuous thoughts.

Just as he settles into the quiet, a familiar voice disrupts the calm. “Gunwook-ah!” Gyuvin calls out, jogging towards him with a bright smile that contrasts sharply with the somber tone Gunwook feels enveloping him.

“Hey,” Gunwook greets, managing a small smile as Gyuvin plops down beside him, slightly out of breath.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Gyuvin pushes Gunwook's shoulder lightly.

“You could have called me, you know?” Gunwook scoffs, checking his phone in case Gyuvin actually had. But to no surprise, he finds no missed calls.

“You were supposed to be in class, so I waited outside the lecture hall,” Gyuvin raises an eyebrow. “What was that about, huh?”

“Oh,” Gunwook says. “Nothing, just wasn’t feeling like sitting through that today.”

Gyuvin hums in thought, sliding off his backpack to look through it absentmindedly. “That’s unlike you.”

“What is?”

“Missing class,” Gyuvin bemuses before shaking his head. “But whatever, I was looking for you because I wanted to give you this.” He pulls out a bracelet from his bag, eyes wide in anticipation. “They’re for everyone on the team.”

Gunwook takes the bracelet, inspecting the braided threads of dark blue and white — the team colors. “These are nice, Gyuvin. Did you make them?”

“Yeah, sort of a good luck charm for the games coming up,” Gyuvin grins, clearly proud of his handiwork. “Thought it might help boost morale, especially with the big game against KU.”

Gunwook nods, the bracelet between his fingers suddenly feeling heavier than it looks. “Thanks, I’ll make sure to wear it,” he says, sliding it onto his wrist. The colors blend perfectly with the uniform.

Gyuvin pauses, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Oh, before I forget, Hanbin and Matthew are throwing another party this weekend, after the game. Just a team thing, you know, but we’re all invited to bring someone if we want. It’s at their place.”

Humming, “Just the team and a few others?”

“Yep,” Gyuvin nods. “Nothing big — just a good way to unwind after the game. Plus, Hanbin hyung says it’s been too long since we all just hung out without worrying about stats or strategies.”

“That’s a lie,” Gunwook laughs, remembering clearly their many hangouts tinged with Hanbin’s alcohol-induced antics. 

Gyuvin laughs along, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Okay, maybe not too long, but you know how he gets. He just loves playing the host.” Gunwook nods, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Well, hopefully it doesn’t get out of hand,” Gunwook intones. “It’ll be a difficult game anyways.”

But Gyuvin scoffs. “Oh, Gunwookie,” he shakes his head, “Have you forgotten who won last year?”

Gunwook rolls his eyes, “You did.”

“ We did. You’re part of us now,” Gyuvin attempts to lecture. 

“But last year, I wasn't,” Gunwook corrects. “Even if I didn’t step on the court. I didn’t become the third point guard until after.”

“And guess who will be the second point guard now,” Gyuvin wraps his arm around Gunwook.

“You?”

“No, you, idiot,” Gyuvin shakes him.

“I don’t think Eunseok hyung would appreciate that,” Gunwook chuckles, seeing through the joke. “But it doesn’t matter. Matthew hyung is still benched. Hopefully Coach calls you in instead for this game. I don’t know if I can play this time.”

Gyuvin hums, “And if he does?”

“Does what?” Gunwook furrows his eyebrows, sensing the shift in tone.

“If he calls you in. Would you still play?”

“I’m gonna have to,” Gunwook says slowly, the weight of the situation settling over him like a thick fog. “But I think Hanbin hyung had talked to him already.”

“Mhm,” Gyuvin says simply, but there’s a calculating look in his eye that makes Gunwook question what’s going on behind those casual affirmations.

Chapter Text

Breathe in. 

As Gunwook inhales deeply, the chill of the metal bench beneath him seeps through his basketball shorts, a stark reminder of the tension that hangs heavy in the air. 

Breathe out…

His fingers clench reflexively around the edge, a grip born of nerves rather than intention. The cold is grounding, a physical anchor in the swirl of his racing thoughts.

Breathe in. 

Breathe out. Good…

To his left, Gyuvin mutters under his breath, rummaging through his locker with a mix of excitement and frustration as he searches for the new shoes he purchased specifically for today's game. Ricky sits on Gunwook’s other side, watching Gyuvin with a soft smile he will try to hide when Gyuvin eventually catches him. 

Breathe in. Hold it. 

Breathe out. It’s shaky, but it’s progress. Gunwook’s fingers finally relax, easing their grip on the cold metal.

His teammates are loud around them, hyped just from the fact the KU team already arrived in the guest locker room. He hears Jaehyun bickering with Sungho in the corner as they fight over a water bottle. 

Breathe in… 3…2…letting the air fill his lungs to capacity, holding it as if he could hold onto the moment.

Breathe out. Good. Just like he practiced. 

Gunwook steadies himself with these measured breaths, readying his mind and body for the court. This is just another game. 

It doesn’t matter that over in the other locker room, boys he would rather never see again are preparing for their game that’ll start soon. It doesn’t matter that the boy that has haunted his mind for months is probably giving his speech to the team, and Gunwook wonders if he mentions him at all. Would he use Gunwook as some form of jab to SNU? 

He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t, but he can’t help it. 

One more time. 

Breathe in. 

Breathe out. 

The thought flickers briefly — does his ex even spare a thought for him now? Is there any regret in the corners of his mind for how things ended, for the pain inflicted?

It's a fruitless line of thinking, Gunwook knows. 

Dongmin, with his unwavering pride and sharp edges, likely remains unbothered by the fallout of their past. The realization sits heavy in Gunwook's chest, a leaden weight that's hard to shift. He knows, deep down, that expecting acknowledgment or regret from Dongmin is nearly laughable. 

With a final exhale, Gunwook turns to Ricky. “You’re sticking with me today,” he decides. He knows Ricky understands when he nods, apparently not needing further explanation. Ricky's nod carries a depth of understanding that steadies Gunwook's nerves slightly. 

“How do they look?” Gyuvin calls for them, showing off his shoes. “Like them?” He looks a bit silly, holding out his foot like that, eyes wide to gauge their reactions. 

Gunwook says, “They’re nice.” 

Gyuvin beams at the approval, though his smile seems a bit forced — perhaps from the nerves or the underlying tension that hangs in the air, thick and unspoken. Ricky finally chimes in, his voice softer than usual, "Yeah, they look great."

Gunwook notices the way Gyuvin's smile becomes more genuine at Ricky's words, a hint of color blooming on his cheeks. Okay. Gross. 

But at least Gunwook feels sobered up now. 

He watches as Gyuvin hops back, satisfied, integrating back into the conversation of the team preparing around them. Gunwook turns his attention back to Ricky, finding a quiet reassurance in his steady gaze. 

Before Gunwook can say anything else, Hanbin clears his throat, capturing the attention of the entire locker room as he steps forward. The chatter fades into silence, all eyes on him as he clasps his hands in front of him, his expression serious yet encouraging.

“Alright everyone!” Hanbin bemuses. “While today might just be a scrimmage game,” he starts. “This game is more than that for us. It's about showing what we've built together, the strength and unity of our team. We're not just playing for points; we're playing to prove that our spirit and our skills are unmatched.”

As the words settle around them, the corner of Gunwook’s mouth tugs up into a small smile. He sees Jaehyun throw a fist pump in the air as Sungho shushes him before Hanbin can reprimand him. 

“We know we're up against a tough team, but we won last year,” Hanbin continues, his gaze sweeping across his teammates. “And they haven't seen what we can do when we're pushed to our limits. Remember, we play as one. We support each other, and we leave everything on that court.” The room erupts in cheers and claps, the team rallying around Hanbin's words. 

“Let’s show ‘em which school represents Seoul the best,” Taesan sneers competitively, “and which school is worth choosing over.” 

More like showing them why SNU was Gunwook’s pick — even if it wasn’t his choice at first. It’s a choice Gunwook feels grateful to even have had the opportunity to ponder. 

A murmur of agreement ripples through the room, and several heads turn towards Gunwook, their expressions a mix of determination and silent support. Gunwook feels a knot tighten in his stomach, the weight of their expectations and his own nerves battling within him. He nods slowly, acknowledging their looks with a firm set to his jaw.

Breathe in. 

Breathe out. 

As Hanbin concludes his speech with a resounding, “Let’s go out there and make every moment count!”, the team's spirits soar, their cheers filling the locker room.

Gyuvin, ever the catalyst for motion, grabs Gunwook's arm, pulling him toward the door. “Come on, it's game time!” he says with an infectious grin. Despite the heaviness that lingers in Gunwook's chest, the excitement from his team is contagious, and a small smile finds its way onto his face.

They jog out together, the stadium lights bright above them, casting long shadows on the court. As they line up along the sidelines, Gunwook takes a moment to glance around. The stands are filling up, the buzz of the crowd growing as game time approaches. He spots banners and flags, hears the murmur of conversations and the occasional shout of encouragement.

On the sidelines, Matthew sits, waving at his team enthusiastically. He doesn’t have his jersey on, it’s not like he would need it anyway. But he still showed up to support — and Gunwook selfishly supplies: he stayed to support me. Delusional. 

As Jiwoong signals for them to start their warm-up drills, Gunwook focuses intently on his movements, trying to channel all his energy into each stretch and sprint. The rhythmic sound of basketballs bouncing and sneakers squeaking against the polished court floor helps to center his thoughts.

However, the moment the KU team emerges from the opposing locker room, a murmur sweeps through the crowd, and Gunwook feels an involuntary twitch in his muscles. He resolutely keeps his eyes forward, determined not to look at them, especially not seeking out the familiar faces he once knew so well.

But it’s no help. 

Gunwook's heart hammers against his ribcage as he inadvertently locks eyes with Dongmin. 

There, standing amidst the booing crowd and the buzz of the stadium, Dongmin remains unbothered, his posture relaxed and face unnervingly familiar. The sight of him — a ghost from Gunwook's past, draped in the colors of their former team — stirs a tumult of emotions within him. 

He looks as good as he always has. His hair is picked up in a small ponytail, his headband accentuating the frame of his face. But deep down, Gunwook counters, Matthew makes headbands look better .

And then there’s that stupid smile, that smirk, that Dongmin directs to Gunwook like a damn taunt. It doesn’t feel real. It’s as if Gunwook isn’t actually here — staring at the caricature of a man he never wanted to see again.

For a moment, everything else fades into the background: the sounds of the game preparations, the calls from his teammates, even the drone of the crowd.

It's just him and Dongmin, separated by the court but connected by a shared history that Gunwook wishes he could forget. Dongmin’s gaze is steady, almost challenging, and it's all Gunwook can do not to look away first.

A whistle from the coach snaps Gunwook out of the brief trance. He forces his gaze to shift, focusing on the basketball in his hands. The weight of the ball grounds him, reminding him of where he is now — far removed from the shadows of his past relationship. 

With a deep, steadying breath, he turns back to the warm-ups, throwing himself into the motions with renewed vigor. 

Each dribble and shot becomes a statement, a declaration that he is no longer the same person he was at KU. Each thud of the basketball on the hardwood echoes a bit louder now, the presence of his old team amplifying the sounds around him. Gunwook throws himself into the layup line, focusing on the backboard, the rim, the way the net swishes with each successful shot.

He knows he's here to prove something — not just to his team or to the spectators, but to himself. He's no longer the vulnerable player he was at KU, no longer subject to Dongmin's manipulative affections. 

Sweat beads at his temples, the cool droplets a stark contrast to the heat flooding through his veins. His limbs move mechanically, muscle memory guiding him through the motions while his mind races, tangled in a web of anxious thoughts.

With every glance he dares to steal towards the KU team, a wave of nausea threatens to overcome him, yet he pushes it down, determined not to show any weakness.

No. He can’t let Dongmin win. He can’t let him take his resolve and crack it in the way he has always been able to. 

Biting the inside of his cheek, Gunwook follows as the rest of his team move to the sidelines. The movement makes it impossible to not pass by the KU team still working on their own drills. But Gunwook uses everything in him to ignore them, even when he can feel the stares he is receiving. 

It isn’t a secret anymore. Everyone knows Gunwook is SNU now. Well…fuck. 

“Gunwookie!” Matthew calls for him, tapping the space next to him. His enthusiasm is almost infectious, his grin wide. “Come, come.” 

Gunwook contemplates for a second that maybe he shouldn’t. There’s a nasty thought in his head that being seen with Matthew like this would have the KU team gossiping. But…thinking with rationality, it’s not like KU would know much about them anyways. 

So Gunwook agrees. Settling down, Gunwook wrings his hands together. He flinches when Matthew knocks their shoulders together. “Feeling good?” Matthew asks more seriously.

“Yeah,” Gunwook replies, because that is all he really can say. “Let’s just get it over with.” Matthew seems to share the sentiment, nodding his head in agreement. With a final smile, Matthew turns back to face the court once the starters stand to meet with Jiwoong.

Ricky and Gyuvin find their way to Gunwook’s other side, bickering to themselves as the teams begin to situate themselves. But Gunwook has and is trying his hardest to not look up, to not let anyone see him. And he hopes most of all that Jiwoong doesn’t sub him in. Ricky is a better player anyways. 

Plus, there’s no doubt in his mind that having Gunwook on the court with the boys he had nearly fought one year ago is breeding grounds for an actual fight — or even dirtier tricks. It won’t be wise. So that is why Gunwook exhales heavily in relief, a burden lifting from his shoulders, when Jiwoong motions towards Jaehyun. 

“Hey,” Ricky nudges Gunwook with his elbow, his voice hushed yet audible over the mingled cheers and jeers of the swelling crowd. It isn't packed, but it's certainly a larger audience than they'd anticipated for an offseason match. “Who is that?”

The question sends a chill down his spine, encouraging the tension of his muscles as he realizes that Ricky is looking in the direction of the KU team. His mind pulses through as many possible scenarios as possible. Yet in every one, he isn’t prepared for the revelation. 

Despite his reluctance, curiosity gets the better of him, and Gunwook slowly raises his head, his eyes slightly reddened. Fortunately, it isn’t Dongmin he sees. Instead, it's Hyunwoo.

“Isn’t that the asshole from the party?” Gyuvin interjects, his brow furrowed in distaste. “What’s his fucking problem?”

Gunwook stays mute, his jaw tense.

“How about he keep an eye on the ball of the game that’s about to start instead of staring at us?” Matthew scoffs before shrinking in on himself. “No, seriously, why isn’t he looking away?”

“Don’t pay him attention,” Ricky advises, shifting his gaze away determinedly. “The whole day that team is going to be acting up. Better not start anything with them now.”

As the teams begin lining up for the tip-off, the atmosphere around Gunwook thickens with tension. He watches as Hyunwoo, still casting glares in their direction, positions himself on the court. Gunwook feels a mounting pressure at the back of his neck, the stares almost palpable in their intensity.

The shrill blast of the referee's whistle slices through the charged atmosphere of the gym, signaling the start of the game. Gunwook, stationed on the sidelines, feels the familiar flutter of adrenaline mixed with a pang of disappointment. He's not on the court; not this time. He watches as his teammates take positions, the bouncing of the ball and the shuffling of sneakers filling the air.

From here, he has a clear view of the entire court, the players moving like chess pieces in a game much bigger than just basketball. It's strategic, every move critical, and though he's not playing, the intensity doesn't elude him.

As KU takes possession, his stomach tightens. Each pass they make is a reminder of games played in the past, of a version of himself he's no longer tethered to. He watches as Dongmin, a ghost from his past life at KU, maneuvers with confidence, the crowd reacting to every slick move. The sight of him — so familiar yet so detached from his current life — stirs a complex whirl of emotions in Gunwook.

Focus on what you can control , Gunwook tells himself. 

The game unfolds, SNU and KU neck and neck, the cheers and jeers of the crowd a pulsating backdrop to his focused observations. His eyes track the play, analyzing moves, imagining himself intercepting passes, making shots. 

As expected, KU isn’t letting up. There’s the sharp advances, the sneering comments the guys on the sidelines cannot decipher well — but given by how the hyungs’ expressions twist, they probably aren’t in good faith — and the plays that Gunwook realizes have been explicitly made to counteract SNU’s. They know SNU well. 

But Gunwook knows KU better. 

And it’s this fact that has Gunwook’s breath hitching. What if this is something Jiwoong would use to reason a choice on subbing Gunwook in? It’s almost the end of the first quarter and there hasn't been any inkling of Jiwoong using Gunwook any time soon. But that doesn’t mean that won’t be very soon. 

His fingers tap against his thigh, a nervous habit he hasn’t quite been able to shake. The idea of stepping onto that court, facing off against his past team — against Dongmin — sets his nerves alight. Yet, he can’t help but feel a gnawing desire to prove himself, to show that he’s more than the history that haunts him.

As the cacophony of the game drones on, Matthew notices Gunwook’s tension, seeing his hands clench and unclench as if grasping for calm. 

Leaning closer, the noise of the surrounding environment dimming as he focuses solely on Gunwook, Matthew’s voice cuts through the chaos with a calm, grounding presence. “Gunwook,” he murmurs, his tone infused with genuine concern, “are you holding up alright?”

This simple inquiry, softly spoken, draws Gunwook's gaze away from the intense game. He finds himself momentarily lost in the sincerity and warmth emanating from Matthew's eyes. It’s a sharp contrast to the competitive fervor on the court, offering him a lifeline back to stability. 

“I'm trying to keep it together,” Gunwook confesses, his voice a low, strained whisper, barely audible above the commotion of the crowd.

Matthew’s response is immediate and instinctive; his hand finds its way to Gunwook’s back, a firm and reassuring touch that anchors him amidst his spiraling thoughts. The pressure of Matthew's hand is both a comfort and a catalyst, helping Gunwook to slowly exhale the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. 

“Shit,” Ricky curses as he focuses on the game, followed by Gyuvin’s lengthy commentary as Hanbin loses possession of the ball. 

On the court, the game intensifies. SNU's team is on the defensive, struggling against KU's calculated plays. Gunwook watches, analyzing each move with a critical eye, his mind automatically dissecting strategies and countermoves. It’s a skill honed from years of practice and painful memories associated with his former team.

Gunwook’s heart races; the possibility of being called in is both a dread and a silent plea. He knows the plays, the counters to KU’s strategies — he could make a difference, if given the chance.

As the buzzer sounds to end the first quarter, the team huddles up, and Jiwoong calls out instructions, his voice stern and focused. Gunwook’s nerves spike with each mention of potential player rotations, his gaze flickering between the coach and the court.

As Jiwoong turns away, scribbling something on his clipboard, Gunwook forces his attention to watch as his teammates regroup. The grip of anxiety tightens around Gunwook's chest as he catches Jiwoong’s discerning eyes. In that moment, every ragged breath feels like a fight, his lungs gasping for air that seems too thick to breathe. 

“Are you okay?” Matthew asks, clearly more worried than before.

Pathetic. No one from KU is even looking his way; they're huddled around their coach, the very man who had expelled Gunwook from the team over misconceptions and hearsay.

Memories surge unbidden, a flood of past grievances and bitter departures, each one pulsing through Gunwook's veins like a venom. He feels the heat of Matthew's hand on his back, grounding yet burning, a paradox that both steadies and unnerves him.

“Focus on the here and now,” Matthew murmurs close to his ear, his voice a low anchor in the tempest of Gunwook's thoughts. The sound is almost enough to pull him back from the edge, a lifeline thrown across the dark waters of his panic.

“I don’t know if-if I can,” Gunwook whispers back as quietly as he can. His vision blurs at the edges, replaying only the image of Jiwoong's assessing gaze.

He feels the heat of Matthew’s breath fan against his ear, his hyung’s presence inching closer. But he doesn’t have the focus to freak out over this fact in the way he usually does because his fists are clenched and eyes fixed on the players on the court.

His hand tightens around the hem of his jersey, the fabric crumpling under his grip. Gunwook's breath becomes shallow, each inhale sharper than the last as his chest tightens, a vice-like grip that makes it hard to breathe, hard to think. The sounds around him — the squeak of sneakers, the thud of the basketball, distant cheers — start to blend into a mix that pounds against his skull. 

He tries to ground himself, to find a focal point that isn't the chaotic motion of the crowd or the sea of faces that seem to swirl around him. But a cold sweat breaks out across his forehead, his hands tremble uncontrollably, and a nauseous feeling swirls in his stomach. It's overwhelming, suffocating, like he's drowning on dry land. 

And then, his eyes find Dongmin across the court. The former captain's gaze is piercing, loaded with an unreadable expression that sends a jolt of panic through Gunwook's already frayed nerves. That gaze, that moment of recognition, is the last straw.

Without a word, Gunwook stands and stumbles away from the bench, his steps quick and uneven as he heads straight for the locker room. He ignores the distinguishable calls from Zhang Hao and Taerae on the sidelines, and he thanks any entity up above that his own family couldn’t come today to see him like this .  

The door slams behind him with a resounding echo, a temporary barrier between him and the past that's threatening to swallow him whole. In the dim light of the locker room, he leans heavily against a wall, struggling to catch his breath, to regain some semblance of control.

Gunwook doesn’t know how long it is until Matthew hurries into the locker room, the door shutting with a muted thud behind him. The echo of the crowd's roar is muffled here, replaced by the hushed urgency of their breaths. 

“Hey,” Matthew's voice is soft but firm, pulling Gunwook from the precipice of his spiraling thoughts. He steps closer, his presence a steady force in the confined space. “Talk to me, Gunwook. What’s going on?”

Gunwook leans back against the cool metal of the lockers, the chill grounding him slightly as he avoids Matthew's concerned gaze. "It’s nothing, hyung," he tries, his voice a mere whisper, barely audible over the ringing in his ears and his eyes glistening with unshed tears from the overwhelming mix of emotions. The presence of his old coach, the intensity of the game, and the weight of past regrets converge into a suffocating cloud around him.

But Matthew isn’t buying it; he steps even closer, reducing the distance until he’s only an arm’s length away. “It doesn’t look like nothing,” he says quietly, reaching out to gently tilt Gunwook’s chin down, forcing their eyes to meet. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”

The sincerity in Matthew’s eyes is almost too much, and for a moment, Gunwook considers spilling everything — the fears, the past, the dread of facing what he left behind. But the words lodge in his throat, unspoken yet palpable between them.

“Don’t focus on the past,” Matthew advises softly, reading Gunwook's distant look. “You’re here now, with us.”

The simplicity of the statement, the inclusion of "with us," wraps around Gunwook like a shield. It’s a reminder of his current place, his new team, his escape from the past that haunts him less with Matthew by his side.

Seeing his distress, Matthew's arms wrap around Gunwook, a steady embrace that feels grounding. Gunwook, usually the taller and broader of the two, finds himself shrinking into the warmth offered, his face buried in the crook of Matthew's neck. Despite typically standing taller, in this moment, enveloped by Matthew's reassuring presence, Gunwook allows himself to feel smaller, more vulnerable. 

“Inhale with me,” Matthew murmurs, his voice a resonant calm in the storm of Gunwook's rising panic. They breathe in sync, Matthew's chest rising, a silent count keeping them tethered together in this small sanctuary. “Exhale... slowly,” Matthew continues, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Gunwook's back.

As they stand locked in the embrace, Gunwook's eyes are closed tightly, trying to etch this sense of peace into his mind, to carry it with him onto the court. He's aware of every point where their bodies touch, the warmth seeping into his bones, battling the chill that has nothing to do with the air-conditioned room.

The support doesn't erase the dread, but it filters it, makes it manageable. “You're stronger than you think,” Matthew's voice is low, meant only for Gunwook, a private affirmation amid the public chaos of the tournament. “And you're not alone, not anymore.”

In the quiet of the locker room, the chaos of the court seems miles away. Gunwook's grip on reality — or rather on Matthew — tightens reflexively, his fingers digging into the fabric of Matthew's shirt. 

Matthew's hands come up to cradle Gunwook's face, a gesture so tender it borders on intimate, setting Gunwook's nerves on edge. The proximity, the touch, it's all overwhelming. Gunwook's heart races, his breaths shallow; he's caught in the eye of a storm of emotions he's long tried to suppress. 

Matthew's eyes search his, filled with concern that Gunwook reads as something deeper, something more personal. “You're okay,” Matthew murmurs, his voice a soothing balm that somehow seeps into the crevices of Gunwook’s thoughts.

But what terrifies Gunwook the most isn't the game or his past — it's the longing that Matthew's touch awakens in him. The yearning for something as simple as this: care, concern, connection. It's what he needs yet fears the most, for every fiber of his being screams that it's too much, too soon, too close. 

Gunwook wants to speak, to tell Matthew everything — the fears, the past, the hope tangled up in dread — but the words lodge in his throat. Instead, all he can do is lean into the touch, allowing himself this moment of weakness, this sliver of comfort, even if his mind whirls with confusion and the echo of what if.

As Matthew continues to hold him, a silence envelops them, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the game outside. The locker room, usually filled with energy and strategy, becomes a haven for two souls momentarily detached from the tumult.

“Thanks, hyung,” Gunwook finally whispers, his voice barely audible over the din that has returned to the background of his senses. The words are simple but carry a weight that is palpable between them. Matthew’s hold tightens just a fraction, as if to solidify his promise of support.

“You don’t have to thank me for caring about you,” Matthew responds, his tone steady yet filled with an emotion Gunwook can’t quite decipher. It’s comforting and disarming all at once. Gunwook feels a shiver pass through him.

“Hyung,” Gunwook exhales in defeat. His eyes burn from the tears and his lips are chapped, but he still finds the energy to push Matthew lightly in the shoulder. “Don’t make me cry more.”

Matthew smiles, using his fingertips to wipe away the tears. “Let it all out, Gunwookie,” he says before shaking his head. “I knew…I knew we should have ditched.” Gunwook furrows his eyebrows but Matthew continues, “I should have kidnapped you myself.”

The imagery of Matthew kidnapping him sends a laugh to escape Gunwook. “Hyung,” he chuckles wetly. The sound must relieve Matthew because his features brighten. 

“What?” Matthew muses. “You don’t think I can do it?” Gunwook shakes his head, sniffing. “I can be convincing, you know?”

“You can try,” Gunwook mumbles. Matthew hums, wiping away the remaining tears that stream down Gunwook’s flushed cheeks. 

“I feel like I wouldn’t have to try too hard,” Matthew whispers before he pulls away. “Now, come on. Let’s sit down.” 

In the relative silence of Jiwoong's office, Matthew closes the door with a gentle click, casting a thoughtful look back at Gunwook. He hands him a bottle of water, his movements deliberate and calm. “Here, hydrate. It’ll help,” he advises softly, pulling up a chair close to Gunwook.

Gunwook accepts the bottle, his fingers brushing against Matthew’s, sending an unexpected jolt through him. He unscrews the cap with slightly trembling hands. Matthew watches him take a few sips, his expression unreadable yet undeniably concerned.

“Better?” Matthew asks, leaning back in his chair, the air around him shifting to one of comfort rather than the earlier tension of the sidelines.

“Yeah, better,” Gunwook manages, his voice steadier than he feels. He sets the bottle down. His body feels exhausted, weighed down on the seat from all the effort he exerted to keep himself together. He hasn’t felt this way in months. And he hopes it doesn’t get worse.

Because the game is still going on and Gunwook and Matthew are locked inside Jiwoong’s office hiding from it all. Gunwook doesn’t even want to know how it’s going out on the court. 

“Let’s stay here for now,” Matthew says. Gunwook hums, allowing himself a moment to really look at Matthew, to see the genuine worry etched across his features. “We can wait until the game is over and talk to Coach, say sorry for leaving and all that,” he waves off with his hand. 

“I knew this wasn’t a good idea,” Gunwook palms his face with his hand. “I’m sorry, hyung. I didn’t mean to overreact.”

“Overreact?” Matthew repeats, as if offended. “Gunwookie, take that back.”

“I just… I didn’t mean to run out like that,” Gunwook clarifies as he clears his throat, embarrassed. 

“You never learn, do you?” Matthew tsk-s. 

And Gunwook feels himself pause. 

You never learn. You never listen. You never obey. 

But the way Matthew says it is different, like it’s an actual joke. A harmless one. 

“How many more times will you dismiss your own feelings?” Matthew inquires seriously. He leans forward and grabs onto Gunwook’s hands, wrapping his fingers tenderly around them. “Gunwook. You just had an anxiety attack.” 

“I know,” Gunwook shifts his gaze stubbornly to the ground — like a kid being lectured. He’s had many more. Worse ones, even. This one doesn’t even cut it. 

“I’m not trying to overstep,” Matthew licks his lips. “I just worry about you, you know? You keep it all to yourself and stuff everything away, and those feelings build until it blows up. And that is the last thing I want for you. You deserve to have that space to unwind. And if I can be that for you, if you ever feel comfortable enough with me, then I’ll be it.”

It isn’t that Gunwook is uncomfortable. He’s just afraid. 

“I know,” Gunwook says instead. 

Matthew presses his lips together with an analyzing eye. “Okay,” he says. 

Later, when the team files into the locker room, loud and cheerful, Gunwook deduces quite easily that they must have won. All more reason for them to yell and laugh wholeheartedly as they circle around Hanbin. He must’ve saved their asses in the middle of the game. 

Matthew and Gunwook sit patiently, watching their team through the wide window that allows visual into the locker room. Matthew has Gunwook’s hand in his, his thumb rubbing lightly against the back of his palm. 

Consequence of the fact that it hasn’t been that long since Gunwook first stumbled in here, he still has tremors that feel more like aftershocks from his anxiety attack earlier. It’s like shivers that travel throughout his body every minute or so and he feels like it’ll be never ending. 

Oh fuck. Hopefully his team doesn’t make fun of him later over this. They’re nice guys, but they sometimes like to joke a little too much. But…whatever. Gunwook knows how to deal with things like that. 

What he is more worried about now is Jiwoong opening the office door, looking surprised to see Matthew and Gunwook sitting in the chairs. Gunwook sheepishly grins while Matthew smiles widely. 

“Coach,” Matthew calls. “Sorry we busted in here, but Gunwook just needed some space.” 

Jiwoong nods simply, setting his clipboard down on the desk before sitting down on his own chair. “Are you feeling okay? We missed you out there,” he asks Gunwook. 

Head hanging low, Gunwook nods. “Sorry about leaving in the middle of the game,” he apologizes. He ignores the warning squeezing of his hand from Matthew. “It won’t happen again.”

“Don’t worry,” Jiwoong says with a tilt of his head, understanding. “It was KU. I kind of expected it. I wasn’t going to put you in the game anyways. As always, they were playing dirty with us.”

“Playing clean with everyone else, but with us it’s as if the rules are out the window,” Matthew mutters under his breath. Gunwook hums in agreement. 

“I think they had more of a grudge this time,” Jiwoong adds knowingly. It’s obvious why. “The good thing is our ref wasn’t being lenient. Let’s hope that it’s the same during the season.”

“Did it go well though?” Gunwook sheepishly inquires. 

“Went perfectly,” Jiwoong chuckles earnestly. “Hanbin and Jaehyun were really laying it on thick for them. And all the penalties KU was getting definitely helped. Their coach didn’t seem too happy about that.”

“Their locker room is probably quiet as heck right now,” Matthew comments, mindful of his language. 

“Definitely,” Jiwoong nods. “But the point is that it went well. And I won’t blame you for stepping out to get some air. It was pretty intense in there. And I’m sure things would have escalated had you played.” 

“True,” Gunwook nods in agreement before he pauses. “It would’ve been perfect if I had though. No one knows their plays like me.”

“Gunwook,” Matthew warns softly. But the message is quite clear, did you not see how you reacted? You wouldn’t have lasted. 

Jiwoong mulls over his thoughts before shaking his head. “Not worth it enough. Who knows? Maybe by the season game you can. But it is only our third real game outside practices. I’m already keeping Matthew as an element of surprise for later. Might as well keep you that way, too.”

“So my wrist has nothing to do with it?” Matthew intones petulantly. 

“It has everything to do with it,” Jiwoong replies with a teasing tone. “As long as you’re resting and being our secret advantage at the same time, it’s worth it.”

Matthew doesn’t have anything to retort, so he just looks back at Gunwook with a smile. 

“Gunwook, for now, just rest. You’re not coming for next practice, okay? Take some time to sleep it off,” Jiwoong orders. 

But Gunwook shakes his head. “Coach, I’ll be fine.” 

“It’s the only practice you’ll be missing,” Jiwoong lectures. “You’ll be worked to the bone enough during winter break. Might as well get some rest now.”

Gunwook only nods. 

After parting ways with Matthew and the team, Gunwook sees Zhang Hao and Taerae back at the apartment — as they had apparently left the game quite early. He kicks off his shoes and inhales sharply as he makes his way down the hall into the middle of the apartment. As expected, Zhang Hao and Taerae are lounging around. 

“Gunwook,”Zhang Hao calls him from the living room, his voice tinged with urgency. A book is hastily abandoned, and his glasses perched haphazardly atop his head as he stands, signaling a break from his reading. Gunwook adjusts the strap of his duffle bag, feeling the weight more than usual. “You’re back, feeling better?” Zhang Hao inquires, his brows knitting in concern. “Want me to get you some food?” 

His attentiveness has Gunwook do a double take. “It’s okay, hyung,” he replies with a dry chuckle. “I think I’ll just sleep.”

From his perch on the sofa, Taerae, eyes glued to his phone, chimes in without looking up. “Let him. He’s been pacing around the apartment for the past fifteen minutes waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me?” Gunwook frowns, confusion etching his features.

Zhang Hao shakes his head, a dismissive gesture that does little to hide his worry. “Just didn’t know when you were going to come home. You left with Matthew pretty early so I thought you came back here,” he shrugs, then gestures for Taerae. “Go get a cup of water for him.”

Taerae stands without a fuss, sending Gunwook a thoughtful gaze before doing just that. 

“What’s wrong?” Gunwook asks instead, feet dragging as Zhang Hao leads him to the kitchen table. His behavior is a little weirder than usual — he sounds more worried than usual. Did someone tell him anything? 

“Nothing,” Zhang Hao grins, directing Gunwook to sit down. “We won the game and I was just thinking that you should relax and celebrate!” 

“I was going to relax by sleeping,” Gunwook finds the energy to tease. 

Gunwook hears a scoff from the kitchen. “Not sure if locking yourself in your room and sleeping it all off after seeing your ex boyfriend again almost a year after a nasty breakup constitutes as relaxing,” Zhang Hao counters with disbelief, settling down next to him. 

“Hyung,” Gunwook nearly whines. He’s right but still. 

“I just don’t want you to hide away again,” Zhang Hao exhales shakily. “You worried me last time, too.” 

“I’m doing okay right now,” Gunwook replies quietly. 

“That’s fine,” Zhang Hao responds as Taerae returns with a glass of water and joins them at the table.

“I heard the team is doing a celebratory dinner tonight?” Taerae interjects, trying to lighten the mood. “Are you going?”

Gunwook fiddles with his phone, his discomfort visible. “Probably not,” he admits. “Not really feeling up for it, you know?”

“Then we can celebrate here,” Zhang Hao offers with a warm smile, the atmosphere in the room shifting towards something more comforting.

As they settle in, Taerae’s curiosity gets the better of him. “So, what happened with your ex? You never really talked about it.”

Zhang Hao shoots Taerae a sharp look, his voice low but firm. “Not the time, Taerae,” he chides, glancing at Gunwook to gauge his reaction.

Taerae, realizing his misstep, holds up his hands apologetically. “Sorry, sorry. Just never got the full story, you know?” He tries to lighten the mood with a weak chuckle.

Gunwook remains silent, his gaze fixed on the cup of water before him, avoiding the weight of the conversation. His mind, however, can’t help but drift back to those days, the confusion and hurt still vivid as if freshly imprinted.

“It’s okay,” Gunwook inhales heavily. Gunwook’s gaze drifts to the window, where the city lights blur into streaks of color against the night sky. “I might as well tell someone the full story.”

With a hesitant start, Gunwook begins to unravel the beginning of his story, the words heavy and slow. As he delves deeper into the details that even Zhang Hao doesn’t know — details he hadn’t shared before — Zhang Hao’s expression darkens, and Taerae’s fists clench in anger.

But Gunwook’s voice remains steady, his story unfolding with a calm that belies the turmoil it had once caused. He concludes, the room heavy with the weight of his revelations.

Seeing their anger, Gunwook raises his hands, his tone soothing. “It’s okay, guys. Really, I’ve dealt with it. I’m okay.” Zhang Hao and Taerae exchange looks. 

“Are you, though?” Zhang Hao asks, his tone low, laced with concern that doesn’t quite mask the anger still simmering beneath.

Gunwook nods, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, I am.”

“Next time I see him…” Taerae cracks his knuckles, trying his hardest to look intimidating. But he just looks like a puppy, Gunwook thinks.

“You’ll have to get in line,” Gunwook takes a sip from his drink. “Matthew hyung called dibs already.”

“Oh?” Zhang Hao intones, raising an eyebrow. “Matthew…”

Gunwook almost chokes on his water. “Hyung,” he whines. “Not like that.”

Adding in, Taerae rolls his eyes but can’t suppress a chuckle. “Please, he’d trip over his own feet trying.”

Gunwook sends him a glare, “Hyung,” he warns.

Taerae holds up his hands in mock surrender, his smile widening. “Fine, okay, no more teasing about your non-romantic, totally platonic, basketball mentor hyung.”

“Okay, but in all seriousness,” Zhang Hao interjects. “That ex of yours was a real asshole. I can’t believe…” He bites his lip, as if stopping himself from saying anything further.

Brought back to the topic at hand, Taerae shakes his head. “Scum of the earth. Absolute dogshit. How can someone do something like that?”

Gunwook’s expression darkens momentarily at the mention of his ex. “He…he seemed like he didn’t care,” he recounts. “Like seeing me didn’t affect him as much as it did me.”

Zhang Hao and Taerae sit quietly, watching Gunwook as he thinks to himself. 

“It was as if he didn’t actually see me. But…we made eye contact. I know we did. He just didn’t care? Like the memory of me is so insignificant. Hyunwoo had a grander reaction than him. And I never really talked to him much,” Gunwook scoffs. 

“There are men like him in this world that just…they only care about themselves,” Taerae says softly. “He used you, Gunwook. Up to the end. It built up that way because he knew how to manipulate you. He knows how to control you. As he is doing even now.” 

Gunwook pauses, his fingers tightening around the glass cup. Because he’s right. Dongmin isn’t even here and he has Gunwook thinking of him like this — guiding his emotions as if he were in his life again. 

“And…as you’ve said. It’s almost been a year,” Taerae continues. “There’s this thing about traumatic experiences where every year, right on the anniversary of what happened, these memories and feelings rush back to you. And I think that asshole being physically here is just making it worse.”

“That’s a thing?” Gunwook whispers, resonating way too well with the statement. 

“Yeah,” Taerae says. “I just feel like there’s too many things around you right now reminding you of him. Basketball, the team, partying, even something as simple as a locker room, and seeing him on a basketball court again, in a jersey. All of this is bringing up memories you thought you wrote over.” 

Memories you thought you wrote over. Things Gunwook thought he redid. They’re elements that are familiar yet so new to him. 

Because now he has new memories. Basketball, with SNU. The team, with Hanbin, Gyuvin and Ricky. Partying, Eunseok and Jaehyun. Something as simple as a locker room, Matthew…. The basketball court…the jersey… Matthew. 

A hyung… Matthew. 

Gunwook squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t know what to make of that.”

“You don’t have to do anything, baby,” Zhang Hao says, patting his shoulder. “All you can do is wait, talk it out with people…and just not hide yourself away.”

Gunwook hums. Yeah…he can do that. He can try. 

“Now come on, let’s watch a movie or something,” Zhang Hao stands up, ruffling Gunwook’s hair. 

Gunwook doesn’t look at his phone until he is laying in bed that night, freshly showered and skincare routine done. He knows it’s been ringing for a couple hours now, but he had been too preoccupied with Zhang Hao and Taerae to care. 

The light from the screen illuminates the dark room as he unlocks it, around two hundred notifications taking up his lock screen. “What the…” he clicks on them. 

🏀⛹️ SNU BADDIES CLUB 🥱⛓️‍💥‼️🥂

Jaehyun Hyung

NO WAY

LOOK AT THIS

[link]

HANBIN HYUNG WE GOING VIRAL

bin hyung 🫘

Oh my god

WUT

Sungho Hyung

my mom just asked about you guys, hyung

you and jaehyun really helped us a ton out there

GYUB 🤡

OMG HYUNGS 😭😭😭😭😭

200K LIKES? 

THATS CRAZY!! WHATCTHE FUC

bin hyung 🫘

gyuvin, no cursing 

Matthew Hyung 🏀🤍

WHAT THE

FUCKING HELL

DON'T FORGET ABOUT US WHEN THAT FAME HITS

Jaehyun Hyung

hanbin hyung just audibly sighed

Ricky Rick

 snu on top

GYUB 🤡

“SNU tops KU”

SNU IS DOING WHAAAAT??????

Ricky Rick

😐😐😐

Matthew Hyung 🏀🤍

IK WHAT POST YOURE TALKING ABKUT

Gunwook clicks on the link himself, a video of Hanbin and Jaehyun working together on the court. They ease through the defenses, scoring point after point, working well with the rest of the team. All the replies are SNU fans, students, and alumni alike. 

And then there’s the coping…

Eunseok Hyung

take a look a this

[link]

💀💀💀💀 claiming we cheated 

as if they didn’t have the most penalties

Matthew Hyung 🏀🤍

sore losers 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

nothing new nothing changed🤯

they do this every time 🙄🙄🙄

bin hyung 🫘

and we will win again during season

Taesan Hyung

so does this call for celebration? 🥵🥵

Jaehyun Hyung

we are literally on the way to ur apartment

actually we outside open up

Sungho Hyung

i’ll have to celebrate w u guys tmrw 🤗

💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼

Gunwook smiles. 

Me

^ see u tmrw :)

GYUB 🤡

GUNWOOK 👹👹👹👹👹

ANSWER MY TEXT

Said text being a link to a rick roll. Gunwook memorized the link long ago. He shakes his head, adjusting his covers over himself. 

Me

y’all hear smth?

As Gyuvin spams his name, Gunwook gets another ping. 

Matthew Hyung 🏀🤍

gunwook ‼️

you sleeping yet?

Me

not yet. just got into bed

Matthew Hyung 🏀🤍

oh good :)

just wanted to say good night 💤 

Gunwook furrows his eyebrows, tapping the edge of his phone in thought. 

Me

good night hyung!

I’ll see u tmrw?

Matthew Hyung 🏀🤍

gn 🥱

will u feel better tho

Me

wdym

Matthew Hyung 🏀🤍

will u feel ok to party?

u don’t have to come yk! 

i'm the host anyways

I’ll understand 

Me

It’s ok, hyung

I don’t want to wallow away in my room

plus, it’ll be fun!!! 

I’ll drink to my heart’s content and forget about everything

Matthew Hyung 🏀🤍

alright slow down 🤯🥂

jk jk. u r welcome to go crazy 🙂‍↕️😝😝

it’s been a tough few weeks 😕😕

hanbin and hao volunteered to be designated walkers

so go CRAZY🤪🤪🤪🤪🥳

Me

designated walkers?? 💀💀

where they gonna walk you to?

ur room?

Matthew Hyung 🏀🤍

hey! it happened once 😔

and now they won’t let me live it down😠

Before Gunwook knows it, he feels a smile tug at his lips again, but this time he can’t stop it. That funny feeling in his chest is back, imagining a drunk Matthew clinging onto Hanbin, pouting, finally showing Hanbin a taste of his own medicine.  

Me

awww hyung

Matthew Hyung 🏀🤍 

but WTV 😍😍😍 

that’s besides the point 👏🏼

if u r sure then I’ll see u tmrw :)

will u come w Hao hyung and Taerae?

Me

yeah, most likely

Matthew Hyung 🏀🤍 

PERFECT ;)

have a good night sleep gunwookie 

sleep well 🤍

Gunwook inhales sharply, licking his lips as he hesitates. 

Me

gn

🤍

Much to his dismay, Gunwook wakes up the next morning with a raging headache. It’s when he walks into the kitchen to fetch some painkillers that he sees Ricky and Gyuvin take residence on the kitchen table.

“What are you doing here?” Gunwook grumbles, voice tired from sleep. He drags over to the cabinet, taking a pill with a cold glass of water. 

Gyuvin’s eyes light up at the sight of him, perhaps entertained by his bed head. “Look who decided to join us!” he intones. 

Gunwook rolls his eyes. “It’s way too early,” he says instead. 

“It’s two in the afternoon,” Ricky deadpans. He looks well dressed, hair and make up styled to perfection — a complete contrast to the ruffled hair and basketball shorts Gunwook wears as pajamas. “Hao ge just finished showering, so we have been waiting for you.”

Raising an eyebrow, “Waiting for me?” Gunwook questions. “For what?”

“To go eat!” Gyuvin smiles, like it’s obvious. “As a little celebration . You couldn’t join us yesterday so we wanted to come and have a small family lunch.”

Hearing the explanation, Gunwook’s ears burn. He sets down his empty cup onto the counter and clears his throat. “Oh,” he fidgets, smiling weakly. “Uh…thanks.” There’s a warmth in his chest threatening to swallow him whole. 

He should be used to Gyuvin and Ricky’s affections like this. They’ve become his best friends these past months; and even with the short spat he and Ricky had in the beginning, they’ve never hesitated to include him, to make sure he is doing alright. 

But there’s something different now. Maybe he’s still a little sensitive from yesterday — his body feels beat just from his incident at the locker room alone. 

“Of course we wouldn’t celebrate without you,” Ricky shrugs, like it’s nothing. 

“Even if I didn’t play?” Gunwook laughs. 

“I didn’t play either,” Gyuvin stands up to ambush him in a hug. Gunwook stiffens in the grip but exhales heavily.

“And even if I ran out in the middle of it?”

To this, Ricky adopts an expression that Gunwook interprets as sad…maybe miserable. “I’m sorry,” he replies hurriedly. 

Gunwook’s forehead scrunches in confusion. “For what?”

“Yesterday was hard for you,” Ricky says. “And I didn’t stay with you like you wanted me to.”

Shaking his head, “Ricky, don’t worry about that,” Gunwook counters. “I’m fine now,” he smiles. 

“Still,” Ricky nearly whispers. “Matthew hyung had told me he’d follow you instead but…yeah, sorry.”

“Hyung?” Gunwook manages to steer Gyuvin and him back to the kitchen table. 

“Yeah, everyone kind of saw you leave,” Gyuvin adds sheepishly. “Ricky and I were going to go after you but hyung told us to sit down. And that he’d go instead.”

“Oh,” Gunwook manages. Did he really? He wrings his hands together. He doesn’t know what to make of that. 

As if knowing exactly what is going through his mind, Gyuvin nudges him with his elbow sharply. “Guess we made a good choice then, huh?”

Gunwook rolls his eyes. “Don’t start,” he warns weakly.

“I didn’t say anything,” Gyuvin sing-songs. 

“Whatever,” Gunwook stands up. “I’ll get dressed then.”

“We will give you ten minutes tops!” Gyuvin yells as Gunwook runs back to his room. To Gyuvin’s disappointment, Zhang Hao takes twenty and Gunwook takes thirty and they run out of the apartment with an unbothered Ricky and Taerae in tow. 

He spends the afternoon with a smile permanently etched onto his face. And for the time being, everything that's been plaguing his mind is set on the back burner. 

Preparing for the party that night had taken longer than usual. Gunwook spent over an hour just focusing on his hair, being fussed over by an excited Zhang Hao. He doesn’t know why he is as nervous as he is. 

Well, maybe he does. It’s the first party he’s been at that’s at Matthew’s apartment. He’s heard of his parties from the hyungs, and all the times many of the hyungs have been blackout drunk, and had seen from the videos Gyuvin and Jaehyun would share of the dumb things they would be influenced into doing. 

Tonight won’t be different. Everyone on the team has been hyped just from the KU game alone. It's been seen as a good sign, a prediction of how their season will play out. And Gunwook — even with all the anxiety plaguing his mind — has been feeling the energy as well. Their group chat has been busy all day and he’s gotten more OOTDs than he can count. 

He couldn’t help but send one of his own, taking a mirror picture with Zhang Hao and Taerae lounging in his room behind him. He received many compliments, Gyuvin sending too many 🤤 than Ricky is comfortable with. 

What irks him the most though is Matthew not sending anything in response. So he can like everyone else’s message but can’t for Gunwook? Okay….maybe he’s being jealous for no reason. But still, is a heart too much to ask for?

“Is everyone ready?” Taerae calls from where Gunwook assumes is the front door. 

“Yes!” Zhang Hao yells from his room before meeting Gunwook in the hallway. He has his makeup on, matching his velvet shirt that looks good with his black pants. 

Giving him a once over, Gunwook whistles in awe. “Damn, hyung,” he compliments. 

“We all have someone to impress,” Zhang Hao shrugs nonchalantly, like he didn’t just tip Gunwook’s world on its side. Because who is we?

“Uhm, we?” Gunwook stutters, following him as they join Taerae. 

Either annoyed they have taken too long or maybe just jealous, Taerae stares at them blankly. “Definitely not me,” he scoffs. “My man isn’t even invited.”

“Well. I don’t think having our coach at a party would be a good idea,” Gunwook replies. He shudders, having imagined Jiwoong drinking it up right with them. 

“I’m sure he will get fired if he’s found partying with his players,” Zhang Hao chuckles as they all begin to walk down to the floor elevator. “He does seem like he can hold his liquor though.”

“Coach? Yeah maybe.”

“Wine probably,” Taerae hums, holding the elevator door before it hits Gunwook. “Either way, I’m only going to see all those guys plastered. It’s always fun recording them and blackmailing them the next day.”

“Didn’t you get Jiwoong’s number that way?” Zhang Hao says as he presses the button for the ground floor. 

“No comment,” Taerae responds with a finger to his lips. 

They make it to the parking garage soon enough, piling into the car ceremoniously with Zhang Hao in the passenger seat and Gunwook in the back. They play some girl group songs as they drive, arriving at Matthew's apartment before they know it. 

As they get out of the car, Gunwook’s phone pings. 

Matthew Hyung 🏀🤍

u on ur way?

Me

I’m here

You have a sensor on me or smth 

Matthew Hyung 🏀🤍

u r?!?!?

ok on my way :)

The door to the apartment opens before Taerae has a chance to knock. Matthew stands there with a wide smile. And oh… he looks so good. 

Gunwook practically short-circuits, almost forgetting to hug back when Matthew goes to greet him. “You guys are here!” He exclaims, ushering them through the door. 

By the sounds of guys cheering inside, it seems they must be the last ones to arrive. Matthew grabs onto Gunwook’s arm once he finishes complimenting Zhang Hao and Taerae’s outfits… once again , ignoring Gunwook. 

Stubborn as he is, Gunwook won’t openly admit it but…he did spend a while too long thinking of Matthew when checking himself out in the mirror. Did he not work hard enough?

“Where’s Hanbin?” Zhang Hao asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet with anticipation. 

With a smirk, Matthew motions to the kitchen with his head. “Preparing some drinks,” Matthew informs him. “He’s dead set on having Gunwookie and Ricky on his floor by the end of the night.” 

“Me?” Gunwook lets out a chuckle as Zhang Hao leaves them quickly. 

“Yep,” Matthew finally acknowledges Gunwook with a grin. “Gyuvin is in on it, too,” he leans in with a loud whisper, “but don’t tell him I told you.”

“Okay, I won’t,” Gunwook whispers back, returning the giddiness unabashedly. 

“Ew,” Taerae says under his breath, calling the attention of the pair before him. “Well, I’m gonna go join everyone,” he motions to the living room with his thumb. 

“Let’s all go,” Matthew says, leading them to the living room where a group of guys, and a few girls sit on the floor. They pause soon enough, Gunwook almost running into Taerae as they witness the argument taking place, volume overcoming the music playing.

“No!” A girl with long black hair shakes her head. Another girl beside her laughs wholeheartedly.  “I’m not doing that!”

“You lost!” Jaehyun rebuttals, pointing at her. “It’s just a text, nothing much! I’m going easy on you.”

“Easy on me?” She scoffs even as she takes out her phone obediently. “Sure, texting my ex girlfriend who I dated for three years that I’m pregnant and I think it’s hers is nothing!”

“You’re still doing it though,” Eunseok muses from the side with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“She’s been wanting to text her for weeks now!” Keeho, who looks amused from the sofa, reveals. 

“Keeho!” she yells, cheeks burning. 

“Giselle, it’s fine!” Keeho laughs, looking like he’s having the best time of his life. 

“I’m going to kill you,” she seethes before doing her dare without hesitation. She brushes away Jaehyun who looks over her shoulder to check she’s actually typing it, clapping when she hits the send button. 

Matthew whispers to Gunwook, “Jaehyun was planning this,” he giggles. “She’s annoyed us all for weeks now.”

“How do you guys know her?” Gunwook asks, tone flat. 

“She’s from KU,” Matthew explains calmly. “But she and Keeho collaborate a lot with their clubs and now she always joins us when we are out. You didn’t meet her at Keeho’s party, then?”

“No,” Gunwook grumbles against his will. 

If Matthew notices, he doesn’t say anything. “Come on, let me introduce you.”

Seeing them approach, “Look who arrived!” Jaehyun stands, rushing to greet them excitedly. 

“Hey guys!” Gunwook says, finding a spot on the floor. Matthew follows him, still holding onto him, like it’s nothing , like it’s normal. And maybe it is. Matthew loves skinship, it’s how he shows his affection — with physical touches. But really, seeing the blush on his cheeks and his wide smile, it’s doing too much to Gunwook’s poor heart. 

“This is Gunwook,” Matthew interjects, then gesturing to the girls. “This is Giselle and Wonyoung,” he says. 

“Here, join us,” Sungho hands Gunwook a drink. 

“Thanks,” he accepts it, looking at it cautiously.

“Hanbin hyung made it,” Sungho nods his head in encouragement. 

“Are we getting bartender Hanbin again?” Giselle laughs, sipping from her own cup. 

There’s a series of exclamations from the other side of the living room where some of the older guys are playing a drinking game. Gunwook purses his lips as he looks at them. Maybe he can join them later. 

“I’m out of commission now,” Hanbin appears, finding a spot to sit, handing some of the guys some cups. Following him, Zhang Hao sits on his lap shamelessly. 

“Thanks, hyung,” Matthew accepts a cup himself. “Bottoms up?” He nudges Gunwook with a smirk. Damn it. He looks so good. Gunwook bites the inside of his cheek. He would do anything Matthew asks. 

Last year, Gunwook was a party animal when influenced. He hasn’t drank much this entire past year. His anxiety sometimes get worse when drunk, a certain panic attack after chugging an unknown number of shots a blaring reminder in his brain of what could happen. 

But now, surrounded by people he trusts more than anything, Gunwook nods his head in agreement. With a final look into Matthew’s smug eyes, the pair begin to chug the drink down. 

The drink is fruity, the taste of alcohol strong. Gunwook, a crush to his ego, wrinkles his face. “Hyung,” Gunwook coughs, looking at Hanbin with surprise. “What is in this?”

Matthew, on the other hand, takes it with ease. “Woah,” he laughs with astonishment. “You’ve got a career in bartending, hyung.” Hanbin just smiles at the praise. 

“Let’s continue the game!” Jaehyun interrupts. “Wonyoung! You’re up next.” The girl simply smiles as Sungho begins the cham-cham-cham game. 

As he watches everyone continue the game, Gunwook sets his empty cup aside, gracefully taking another cup one of the guys hand him. “Do you want to play?” Matthew asks lowly, his ears now flushed. He definitely had a drink before Gunwook arrived. 

“Maybe,” Gunwook replies with a half shrug. Looking up through his eyelashes, Matthew hums. Fuck…. “Will you?” Gunwook asks back, eyes glancing along the man’s features, as if desperate to take him all in. 

“Maybe,” Matthew parrots, tilting his head. “If you’re up for it.” He says it as if he will only play if Gunwook does. He needs to stop feeding into Gunwook’s delusions. It’s getting out of hand. 

But Gunwook is at fault, too. The drinks he’s had must be taking a toll on him — given his tolerance is probably shit now — because he grabs Matthew's hand, the sounds of the people playing the drinking game muting into the background. 

Matthew takes the gesture easily, sliding his fingers into his. The skin of his hand is warm to the touch, his hand small enough that it does wonders to the butterflies in Gunwook’s stomach. The pit of Gunwook’s stomach squeezes and warms, attention solely on their joined hands. Wow. Maybe Gunwook should allow himself this more often. 

And he gets the fright of his life when Matthew leans against Gunwook’s side, check smushed against his bicep. It’s so cute that Gunwook's alcohol muddled mind is tempting the idea of just squeezing Matthew’s cheek from cuteness aggression. 

But that’d be inappropriate. Matthew is maybe just cold, right? Ugh. Why is he like this?

“Matthew,” Zhang Hao calls, cutting through their little bubble, sounding way too amused for Gunwook’s liking. “You’re next.”

Matthew shakes his head further into Gunwook’s side, hair more ruffled than before. “I’m okay, you continue,” he rejects absentmindedly, now playing with Gunwook’s fingers. 

And Gunwook is way too focused on Matthew to care about the way everyone stares at them. He thinks he hears someone laugh, but Gunwook pays them no mind. 

It takes around five minutes of them just sitting in their own silence before Matthew sits up, much to Gunwook’s dismay. But the disappointment doesn’t last long. 

“Come on,” Matthew begins to stand, grabbing onto his hand with a tighter grip. He has an eager expression, his bangs falling into his eyes. Gunwook thinks he looks utterly alluring, like a siren no one can possibly resist. 

He understands why Matthew has so many people around him, fawning over him all the time. Because there’s so many sides to Matthew Gunwook is beginning to learn — more he wants to see that he hasn’t yet. 

And hopefully that day will come. Hopefully, one day, Matthew will trust him more, and will let Gunwook in instead of always worrying about him. Hopefully. 

“Okay,” Gunwook obeys, like he always does. Now is no different. If anything, it’s worse. 

Almost hurriedly, Matthew leads them to the empty couch, the spot where Keeho once sat now vacant as he gossips with some of the guys in the corner. Matthew practically pushes Gunwook down on it, the boy almost having the breath knocked out of him from the force. 

Gunwook expects Matthew to curl up on his side, right as he has been for a while now, as he had the last time the pair had taken residence on the couch for a movie. But he almost stops breathing when Matthew sits right on top of him, taking his lap as a seat — like his name was written on it this whole time. 

And maybe it was. Because Gunwook doesn’t resist, doesn’t falter when his arm naturally curls around his waist. Matthew latches onto his free hand in succession, face smug. “Is this okay?” He asks, as if he hadn’t already gone ahead and gave himself permission. 

“Yeah,” Gunwook sighs almost dreamily, his hand tightening slightly around the man’s waist, like he has a right to be possessive. “Of course,” he adds selfishly. 

Matthew looks content with that answer, smiling as he settles back enough for Gunwook to be looking over his shoulder. Having that weight on him is relieving, kind of, especially having a man like Matthew in his arms. Who wouldn’t feel short of breath? 

Then, Matthew begins to play with his hand, looking over it as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. Intertwining and separating their fingers, Matthew settles and places their hands together. 

“Your hand is really big,” Matthew comments, voice faint. He doesn’t stop observing their hands. “Mine looks tiny against yours.”

Overwhelmed, Gunwook gulps, “Yeah,” he replies pathetically. 

“You don’t think so?” Matthew prompts, like his answer wasn’t enough. 

“No, I do,” Gunwook stutters. “You’re tinier than me anyways.”

The corner of Matthew’s mouth lifts. “Of course I am,” he whispers before letting go of their joined hands and turning to face him to place his own on Gunwook’s shoulders. He rubs Gunwook’s shoulders lightly. “You’re very tall,” he inches forward, just enough that Gunwook can smell the alcohol on Matthew's breath. Then, Matthew slowly drags his hands down Gunwook’s arms. 

Is this really happening? His heart quickening, Gunwook is just glad it’s dark here, the living room lights turned off save for the string lights decorating the walls. He shoots a quick glance around the room, and lets out a soft exhale when he sees no one is looking at them. 

Gunwook is left speechless, the warmth in the bottom of his stomach burning and growing and almost overwhelming enough to swallow him whole. He needs him. And the shame really does go out the window because he doesn’t care that they’re doing this here — well, it’s innocent enough, isn’t it? 

It’s not like they’re doing much; simply looking into each other’s eyes as Matthew basically caresses his arms, squeezing along the goosebumps that rise on Gunwook’s skin. It’s almost too much and not enough at the same time. Because what does this mean?

Gunwook isn’t stupid. He can see signs when they’re there. But the hard part is interpreting them correctly. Many times before, Matthew has confused him. This time though, it seems clear enough. Matthew feels something?

Whether that be the alcohol encouraging a one time thing — like when people become a little too risky and touchy when they’re drunk — or he’s just teasing him, Gunwook thinks he wouldn’t mind either way. This privilege is a preview of heaven, if it isn’t heaven itself. 

Gunwook’s eyes trace along Matthew’s face, his nose, his blazing cheeks, his lips. His lips. Oh… oh what Gunwook would do to see them red and plump, to take them in between his teeth, to bite until it hurts. Would Matthew let him? Would he let Gunwook cut right through him, consume him whole?

Matthew sure looks like he would. His eyes are half lidded, lips pressed together as if in thought. He looks so good, so enticing, and Gunwook kind of wishes the lights were on so he can see him better. 

And it wouldn’t be fair to allow Matthew all the fun. So Gunwook traces patterns into Matthew’s sides, satisfied with the shiver that runs through the man’s body. If only they weren’t surrounded by so many people. If only Gunwook didn’t hear the soft thrumming of guilt pulsing, threatening to overcome the feelings the alcohol has let loose. 

But one more look at Matthew and that guilt is subdued, his delusions allowed to run wild, free. 

“Hyung,” Gunwook whispers, and the tone is familiar to him. He hasn’t said it this way in so long — with so much yearning. But he says it now with his whole chest. 

“Yeah?” Matthew replies coarsely, eyes wide as he looks up at him. Fuck. Gunwook is a weak man. 

But Gunwook doesn’t get to say what he’s been meaning to say because there’s suddenly a cold liquid that splashes onto them, landing on Gunwook’s arms and Matthew’s back. 

“Fuck,” Matthew curses in English from surprise. 

The pair turn back to find a guilty Jaehyun standing in front of them. His eyes are wide in fear, enough for Gunwook to know it truly was an accident. 

“Hyung! Oh my god. I’m so sorry,” he slurs, waving his empty cup frantically. It’s obvious how drunk he is now, evident enough with the way he stumbles. 

But Matthew simply shakes his head, clearly not mad. “It’s okay, Jaehyun-ah,” he reassures, looking down at his white shirt, now stained red. “I’ll just go change.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun repeats, bordering a sob. Sungho appears behind him with an apologetic smile, taking the boy into his care. 

But Gunwook only looks at Matthew with worry. “Are you okay?” He asks, sitting up as Matthew begrudgingly begins to stand. 

Matthew nods, immediately latching on his hand. “Yeah. Come on,” he says simply, now leading Gunwook down the hall. Gunwook stumbles as he follows, catching the eye of Zhang Hao across the room. Gunwook tries to ignore the pointed raise of an eyebrow he sends him. 

They make it to Matthew’s room in one piece, Gunwook bearing on a pant as the door shuts closed behind them and Matthew pulls him in closer. 

“Hyung.”

In response, Matthew hums, glancing up at him before walking in further into the room. “I’ll be quick,” Matthew remarks, detaching himself for the moment to look through his drawers. It takes less than a couple seconds for him to find a shirt to replace the dirty one on him. And Gunwook walks closer to him, eyes never peeling off of him. 

It’s like he’s a magnet. Gunwook can’t fathom being apart from him right now. Damn…that alcohol really caught him off guard. 

“You going to let me change?” Matthew teases with a hushed tone, regarding their close proximity. He takes off the jacket he had on, never once breaking the eye contact between the two. 

His arms are now let out free, free to be gawked at by one pathetic little gay boy with the name Park Gunwook. 

Gunwook can’t find the will to be embarrassed when he takes an extra step forward. “I’m not stopping you,” he surmises. 

A line appears between Matthew’s brows. “Oh?” he croaks. 

“I mean,” Gunwook clears his throat, straightening his back. “You don’t need help?” Ah, how pathetic. 

Matthew allows a smirk to paint along his expression, even while fidgeting with the shirt in his hands. He doesn’t say much else, simply grabs onto Gunwook’s right hand and directs it to the hem of his shirt. 

Turning scarlet, Gunwook isn’t stupid. He knows what Matthew wants Gunwook to do. And so Gunwook follows through. 

His hand makes contact with the fabric, fingers dancing along the hem at an agonizing pace. But Matthew remains patient throughout, his pupils flared as they take in the sight of Gunwook standing above him. It’s a look that would send Gunwook running for the hills if he were sober, but now — even with his trembling knees — it gives him more confidence than fear. 

His fingers make it under the shirt, accidentally making contact with the warm skin underneath. It sends a shiver down Gunwook’s spine. He remains undeterred though. 

With a slow movement, he begins to lift the stained shirt, the cool air making contact with Matthew’s torso. And even in the dark, Gunwook knows it’s a treat to behold. So as he continues to lift it up, his other hand forgets being shy. He places his fingers along Matthew’s bare side, his coldness contrasting against the flushed skin. 

Matthew hums softly, as if content, and his expression says the same. He doesn’t look uncomfortable. He looks the complete opposite in fact, leaning slightly forward, torso flexing with each labored breath. 

Gosh. Is this really happening? Granted, Gunwook simply made the excuse of helping him remove his shirt — something Matthew is nowhere near drunk enough to be incapable of doing. Never would Gunwook had let this happen if he was sober. But hey…he isn’t….. so might as well. 

Finally, Gunwook manages to get the shirt by Matthew’s neck and he has to remove his wandering hand from Matthew’s skin to help pull it over his head. Once the shirt is completely off, Gunwook tosses it aside onto the bed and is left with a shirtless Matthew in front of him. 

Perhaps having been staring too long along the subtle abs Matthew adorns and his muscular chest, Matthew says, “Will you help me put this on?” He gestures to the forgotten shirt in his hands. 

But Gunwook would rather do anything but that now. This is probably the only chance Gunwook will see Matthew like this — bare just for Gunwook to look at. He can’t rid himself of the chance now. 

He doesn’t quite know how to word this in a manner that will have Matthew understand and not see him in a creepy desperate way. But Gunwook doesn’t have time to think when Matthew places his hand on Gunwook’s hips and pulls him ever so closer. “Or will you leave me here like this?” 

Um, yes please?

“I’ve never seen you like this,” Gunwook tries to explain, but he cringes internally at the small crack in his voice. 

Matthew seems to find this funny, chuckling lightly. “You’ve seen me change before, though,” he counters playfully. “We share a locker room, you know?” That’s true. But Gunwook has tried his hardest not to look Matthew’s way at all. They change in different locker rows anyways. 

“Does that mean you’ve seen me change then?” Gunwook decides to change the focus. 

This has the smug expression wiped off Matthew’s face in an instant, replaced by a bashful one. “Of course,” he relents immediately, hands now gliding to clasp around Gunwook’s neck. 

“And did you like what you saw?” Gunwook’s hands return to their rightful place — along Matthew’s sides. They trail along, warmed by the heat radiating off of him. 

“Of course,” Matthew exhales. 

“And as I do now,” Gunwook admits, voice frail. Gunwook leans down to match Matthew’s eye level, never parting from them for a second — lost in a haze that encourages the quickening of his heart. The energy in the room is charged with a vibe that flips Gunwook’s stomach inside out. 

Matthew hums again, low eyes flickering along Gunwook’s face. It’s surreal — the expression Gunwook had never seen before. Is this another side of Matthew Gunwook hasn’t been privy to? A drunk, flirtatious Matthew that is dead set on ruining Gunwook. 

The hands around Gunwook’s neck guide Gunwook closer, their noses nearly touching. It’s so tempting. He only needs to move an inch closer and their lips would connect. Only an inch and then Gunwook can take those lips into his and devour Matthew whole. 

Matthew seems to have the same idea, eyes flickering down to Gunwook’s mouth almost curiously.  Feeling the haze of the alcohol at the edges, movements guided now by his every want and need, it’s Gunwook who leans in first. 

It’s slow, soft. And just right. Gunwook allows himself to just feel Matthew’s lips against his, meticulously engraving it into his memory. Matthew stands there still for a second before his lips are on the move too. It’s  sweet, this kiss. It’s like they’re both wanting to remember it, how Matthew pulls Gunwook closer, how Gunwook squeezes Matthew’s bare sides. 

He can taste the alcohol on Matthew’s lips, sure that his are the same. When Gunwook finds the courage to lightly bite Matthew’s bottom lip, Matthew lets out a sharp exhale, perhaps a bit surprised by the boldness. 

But Matthew lets out a pleased noise when Gunwook licks along the spot he bit, like a silent apology. They continue like this — languid and slow, burning and hot. The squeezing of Gunwook’s lungs only seems to grip tighter. 

“Gunwookie,” Matthew murmurs against his lips, husky and low. It’s a complete contrast to the bubbly image Matthew upholds for himself. And it does things to Gunwook’s heart. 

Gunwook doesn’t settle with a reply, simply deepening the kiss further, brazen. The movement of his lips are impassioned, becoming more unrestrained as Matthew follows along easily. He pushes forward further into Gunwook’s hold, like he belongs here, he does. 

The bare chest of Matthew presses against him and Mayday! because Gunwook isn’t quite sure how to react. The sensation sends a heat throughout his body — lighting up his skin. 

He wants to go further, to press Matthew against the mattress behind them, to devour him, to have Matthew succumb to Gunwook’s wants. But maybe that’d be too far. As if they haven’t gotten to this point now…

However, the universe decides for them when there’s a loud knock on the door. 

The pair jump, but they never leave each other’s hold — a fact that eases Gunwook’s nerves. Instead, Matthew shoots Gunwook a worried look, before he yells out, “Yes?” 

“Hyung!” A voice calls — sounding suspiciously like Gyuvin’s. “I’m sorry but we kind of need you out here. Jaehyun hyung is kind of uhhh….” The end of the sentence is cut off by some cheers from the outside. 

“Okay! I’ll be out,” Matthew says, even though a tinge of annoyance colors his words. He then looks back up at Gunwook, the beginnings of a pout sprouting on his lips, now red and swollen from Gunwook’s insistence. 

“Hyung,” Gunwook plaits, his thumb coming to touch along the pout languidly, almost appreciatively. 

Matthew doesn’t say anything else, deepening his pout before he steps back. He stumbles, balance definitely impaired, but is caught by Gunwook immediately. “Sorry,” Matthew murmurs, embarrassed, but Gunwook only smiles wider. How is he so adorable?

The older man then proceeds to finally pull the shirt over his head, his head peeking out through the hole, hair ruffled now all over the place. Gunwook helps him once he notices his delayed movements. Soon enough, Matthew is dressed again — much to Gunwook’s disappointment — and holds onto Gunwook’s hand. 

They make their way out of the sanctuary of Matthew’s room, annoyance clearly taking up their stances. But Matthew seems content enough to latch onto him. 

It’s when they come out back to the rest of the world that Gunwook understands Gyuvin’s worry. Jaehyun is sprawled on the ground, trying to be helped up by a laughing Sungho, a panicking Gyuvin, and a worried Hanbin. There's another circle of people in the middle of the living room, exclaiming loudly. There’s another small group of people arguing over the aux, claiming their playlist is better than the other. And then there’s Ricky and Taerae sitting on the couch, unbothered as they watch the chaos around them.  

Matthew sighs, squeezing Gunwook’s hand once, shooting him a meaningful glance before he separates from him begrudgingly. With his absence, Gunwook is left cold, stuffing his hand into his pocket. 

“Gunwookie!” he hears a certain Zhang Hao yell for him by where he’s now joined Ricky and Taerae on the couch. He waves him over insistently so Gunwook has no option but to obey, sitting down on the armrest. 

“Hey hyungs,” he grumbles, eyelids now heavy. 

For the next two hours, he is bombarded with teases that he ignores, is handed more fruity drinks, joins the big circle where a drinking game is causing havoc to everyone, hugs Ricky without being shoved off, blabbers to Taerae and who knows what, and most devastatingly, doesn’t see Matthew for the rest of the night. 

Gunwook is too far gone to pinpoint where he is — maybe he’s with Hanbin, or still helping Jaehyun. Or maybe he decided he’d had enough and went to bed (unlikely). 

But Gunwook forgets all about that incident in that room, the kisses, the caresses, because with every shot and every loss in the stupid drinking game Gunwook can’t seem to recall, he feels himself fall deeper into the haze. 

And just like that, Gunwook joins his hyungs on their drunken shenanigans, lost to the commotion and fun. The next morning, though, he will wake up in a bed with an exhausted Gyuvin by his side, memories and regrets intact. And learning from Gyuvin everything Gunwook had missed while he was out, to his dismay, his headache becomes the least of his worries. 

Chapter Text

Gunwook awakens unexpectedly, his head throbbing with the dull ache of a hangover and his mouth parched like a desert, it's a surprise that unsettles him. He groans, his face contorting in discomfort, pressing his palms into his eyes as if he could physically squeeze out the pain. 

His confusion deepens and heart skips a beat when he senses movement beside him. The bed sheets, scantily covering his chilled skin, are suddenly tugged away by a curled up Gyuvin to his side. 

Panic flutters in his chest as Gunwook then scans the room. It doesn't take long for the surroundings to register — this is Matthew’s room. The walls are adorned with familiar posters and action figures. His mind races, trying to piece together the fragmented memories of the night before. How did he end up in Matthew's bed, with Gyuvin of all people?

A sudden realization cuts through the fog of his hangover. Gyuvin, always the responsible one, must have been tasked with looking after him once the evening spiraled into chaos — a night that Gunwook can barely recall, save for the reckless consumption of alcohol. 

Amidst the haze, a vivid memory flashes — a moment with Matthew in this very room, so intense and personal that it sends a wave of heat across Gunwook's cheeks. The kiss — they had kissed. Matthew’s lips had been soft and tender against his, a contrast to the pained expression that followed their separation.

But….ahhhh. Gunwook’s face flushes dangerously. He definitely remembers his escapade with Matthew, right here in this very room. Slapping his palms to his face, Gunwook muffles a groan. 

What the fuck. What the fuck . 

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, a mix of awe and horror. His palms press harder against his face, trying to smother the groan that escapes him.

“Gunwook?” Next to him, Gyuvin is rubbing his eyes, perhaps awakened by Gunwook’s gay panic. “You feeling okay?”

Gunwook nods, more out of reflex than honesty because physically he’s fine. He doesn’t feel sick, Gunwook deducing that he must’ve thrown everything up last night. He only feels embarrassment and … confusion. A sense of doom would probably be a better fit. 

“What’s wrong?” Gyuvin croaks, looking worried. Gunwook furrows his eyebrows. Is he that obvious? “You look weird,” Gyuvin comments, beginning to sit up. 

“I feel like shit,” Gunwook replies. “I think I’m still drunk.”

“You’ve been sleeping for like ten hours,” Gyuvin chuckles, voice husky. 

“Ugh,” Gunwook steals back the blanket to cover his face. Gyuvin, the kind soul he is, lets him.  “Where is everyone?”

This question has Gyuvin grinning wide. “They either went home or passed out somewhere in the apartment. I think Jaehyun hyung and Matthew hyung are best friends with the bathroom floor right now.”

The mention of Matthew has Gunwook pausing, breathing heavily. So Matthew got wasted. Would he remember?

“H-How much did they drink?” Gunwook gulps, finding Gyuvin’s eyes in the dimness. 

“A lot,” Gyuvin sighs, running his hand through his hair. “Thank god I got stuck with you. You’re easy to handle when you’re gone, even as crazy as you can get.”

As Gunwook's mind churns with recollections of the previous night, a gnawing anxiety tightens in his chest. The brief moments of joy and abandon, now mere echoes in his throbbing head, feel surreal against the sobering light of day. 

“Oh no,” he murmurs, dread coloring his tone, the memories painting a picture he's not sure he wants to see. “What did I do?”

Gyuvin, ever observant, catches the slight tremor in Gunwook's voice, his smirk broadening as he teases, “What didn't you do?” His laughter, light and carefree, contrasts starkly with the heaviness settling over Gunwook.

Gunwook sits up abruptly, his eyes wide and earnest. “What does that mean, hyung?” he asks, his voice tinged with worry. "Did I do something stupid?" The weight of potential regrets presses down on him, his heart pounding with the fear of what he might have unwittingly unleashed in a moment of unguarded revelry.

“Nah,” Gyuvin responds, shaking his head with a dismissive flick of his wrist. He recounts the night's escapades, from the harmless dares to the emotional pivot that had turned joviality into vulnerability. “You went along with it real easy until they... well, they kind of mentioned a sensitive topic and then that's when you became the crying drunk.” His tone softens as he recalls how he and Hanbin had shepherded Gunwook out to the balcony, seeking refuge in the cool night air.

Gunwook's expression morphs from confusion to astonishment as Gyuvin continues, “But half an hour later you were breakdancing with Eunseok hyung in the living room.”

A dramatic “Huh???” escapes Gunwook, his jaw slack with disbelief. The mental image of himself, caught between tears and dance moves, is both comical and cringe-worthy.

Gyuvin's smile grows tender as he relives the memory, the fondness evident in his voice. “It was funny, to be honest. You switched from one emotion to the other.”

As the narrative shifts, Gunwook's thoughts snag on a more troubling thread. “Wait, then how did we end up here?” he wonders aloud. “Why is Matthew not in his own room?”

Gyuvin, now reclining comfortably back on his pillow, explains calmly, “Oh, well Hao hyung told me to take care of you and just make sure you find some place to sleep. Matthew hyung told us to take his bed.”

“He… did?” Gunwook murmurs to himself, a mix of gratitude and confusion swirling within him. The memory of their kiss — a moment of startling clarity amidst the blur — suddenly sharpens in focus. He recalls the soft pressure of Matthew's lips against his, the look of concern that had creased Matthew's brow when they parted. The intimacy of that memory sends a flush of warmth across his cheeks.

Gyuvin watches him closely, sensing the undercurrents of emotion that Gunwook is struggling to navigate. “Did… something happen?” he probes gently, mindful of the delicate ground he's treading. “You and hyung were… uhh. Uhm. Well…”

“Yes,” Gunwook admits, his voice barely above a whisper. The shame he had braced for melts away in Gyuvin's nonjudgmental presence, leaving him feeling exposed but not alone. “I remember it clearly. We kind of… kissed.”

Gyuvin's pause is palpable, his question hesitant yet necessary. “What's the problem then? Was it… did hyung not like it?”

Gunwook meets his gaze, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m more worried about whether he will… remember.”

“Oh, I see,” Gyuvin responds, his tone thoughtful as he considers the implications. “Both of you did get pretty wasted... but more you than him, that’s for sure.”

At the mention of his tearful outburst, Gunwook winces, his discomfort tangible in the tightness around his eyes. “Yeah, hyung, sorry about that,” he murmurs, the words laced with genuine remorse. He's always despised the idea of being a burden, of needing to be cared for. It clashes violently with his desire to be seen as strong and self-sufficient.

But Gyuvin's response is swift and dismissive, a scoff that cuts through Gunwook's self-reproach. “Stop that,” he insists. “That was our plan anyway. We wanted you to let loose a little. Have some fun...and you did, besides that crying session you had.”

“Oh, yeah. I cried,” Gunwook acknowledges, a flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. He dreads the answer but needs to know. “What was I saying?”

Gyuvin fidgets, his fingers twisting together as he hesitates. “Well...” he starts, clearly uncomfortable, “one of the hyungs kind of dared you to text your ex something... I don’t remember what, but it was something dumb.”

The simplicity of the explanation does little to assuage Gunwook's burgeoning panic. “Oh no,” he groans, burying his face in his hands. “Fuck.”

“It’s okay,” Gyuvin reassures, his hand firm on Gunwook’s shoulder, grounding him. “Hao hyung intervened before you could send anything. Then I just took you outside.”

Gunwook lifts his head, a sliver of relief piercing through his anxiety, only to be replaced by a new wave of apprehension. “Did… did I say anything else?”

The room grows eerily quiet, the silence stretching between them like a chasm. Gyuvin’s expression is unreadable for a moment, weighing his next words carefully. Gunwook’s eyes, wide and imploring, urge him to continue.

“Yeah,” Gyuvin finally says, his voice soft but clear. “About… KU. Your ex, the captain...and what happened in the end.”

“Gunwookie,” Gyuvin scoots closer, his eyebrows furrowed with a palpable concern that etches deeper lines across his forehead. He fumbles with his words, the difficulty of the conversation stifling his usual eloquence. “Why...how did you…” His voice trails off, surrendering to the weight of the unsaid. “Are you okay?”

The question, simple yet loaded, hangs between them. “I am now,” Gunwook replies, his voice thin and a bit distant — a rehearsed line that he's used too often, a shield to guard against further inquiry from those who wouldn't understand.

“He’s…he’s evil,” Gyuvin whispers, the words barely escaping his lips, his disgust palpable. He pauses, licking his lips nervously, the bitterness of the situation palpable in his expression. “How could he…force…” His apology follows, delivered with a quiet intensity that speaks volumes of his empathy and anger on behalf of his friend.

As Gyuvin’s gaze meets his, filled with a pain that mirrors the dark clouds of his own troubled thoughts, Gunwook feels a weight begin to dissolve, slowly but surely. He bites the inside of his cheek, a small, self-soothing gesture. 

He doesn’t want Gyuvin to worry, to carry the burden of his past horrors. Yet, he knows how deeply his friend cares, how the concern etches into his features, reflecting a sincere solidarity.

“Hyung,” Gunwook exhales, scooting closer. “Don’t worry about it. It’s resolved, remember? I’m here now. I’m not at KU anymore.” 

Gyuvin’s response is hesitant, his weak smile a testament to his internal conflict — wanting to believe yet haunted by the shadows of Gunwook's past words. “Just know that I'm here for you, okay?” His voice carries a raw earnestness, a pledge, a promise. “Teammate or not. You’re my friend first.”

“Thank you, hyung,” he manages, his voice steady but soft, a testament to the tumult of emotions still churning within him. “That means a lot.”

Gyuvin places a gentle hand on Gunwook's back, a simple touch that speaks volumes. No other words need to be said for Gunwook to understand that maybe opening up like this, being left raw and vulnerable to another isn’t so bad. 

And just like that, the walls that Gunwook has meticulously built around himself, already trembling under the weight of his guarded emotions, continue to crumble, brick by brick. He senses a shift within, a softening — a hope that soon, when he's truly ready, he might let go completely and embrace a semblance of normalcy.

But for now, as a tangible expression of his appreciation and a way to regain some semblance of control, Gunwook decides it’s time to step outside the confines of these walls as fast as possible. 

As the semester winds down, the buzz of final exams fills the air, palpable tension mixed with the relief of nearing the end. For Gunwook and the rest of the basketball team, however, the conclusion of exams doesn't bring the usual respite. 

Instead, it marks the ramp-up to the official basketball season, a time when the rhythm of dribbling balls and squeaking sneakers on the gym floor becomes the soundtrack to their days.

Leading up to the break, Gunwook doesn’t reply to Matthew’s messages.

Practices are suspended for the week either way, and the first week of break as well — which works perfectly. Gunwook had decided that he’d use this time to get his head straight, to figure out what exactly he wants to do with Matthew, or how he’d approach the situation. 

And maybe it’s immature to not respond to Matthew’s messages of funny videos and occasional check-ins. It isn’t easy. In fact, it hurts his heart so much. But to him, it’s necessary. Studying for exams is already energy consuming on its own, and Gunwook just wants to make it through in one piece. 

Each unopened message from Matthew feels like a small betrayal, but Gunwook convinces himself that this space is essential for clarity. During this self-imposed isolation, Gunwook dives into his studies with a fervor, using the workload as a distraction from the emotional turmoil bubbling just below the surface. 

Each chapter read, each problem solved, is another moment spent not thinking about Matthew. However, the silence he's created is also deafening, being constantly reminded of times when Matthew would send a funny picture, wrap Gunwook in a hug, and give him his leftover coffee. These things were a lot harder to smother. 

Now… Gunwook hasn’t been able to concentrate for the past hour. His fingers have been aimlessly tapping on his laptop, flipping through his notebook, and reaching for a drink that had run dry twenty minutes earlier. The bench he’s sitting at creaks underneath him. 

Across from him, Ricky seems equally disengaged, swiping on his phone, both of them having neglected the homework that had been forgotten in the aftermath of the tumultuous KU game a week ago.

Finally, Gunwook’s patience wears thin. With a mix of frustration and resignation, he closes his laptop with a gentle yet firm snap — a measured attempt to exhibit control over at least one aspect of his life right now.

“Have you heard from Gyuvin?” Gunwook interrupts the settled silence that had permeated the campus field around them, trying to sound casual but desperate to distract himself. They had talked about Gyuvin and Ricky’s vague plans, something that had sounded suspiciously like an unofficial date, and Gunwook can't help but wonder how that's unfolding.

Ricky pauses, his thumb hovering over his phone before he sets it down, facing Gunwook with a thoughtful expression. “We’re figuring things out,” he says, and Gunwook notes the emphasis on ‘we’  that sounds more like ‘Gyuvin is figuring things out.’

Gunwook nods, absorbing the non-update with a resigned air. But Ricky isn’t done. Leaning forward, he fixes Gunwook with a curious stare. “You’ve been weird lately,” he observes, his tone more concerned than accusatory. “What’s up with you?”

The question catches Gunwook off-guard, and he hesitates, caught between the desire to open up and the fear of how his problems might be received. He thinks about Matthew, about that night, and the chaos of emotions it had stirred. 

Should he mention it? Would Ricky understand?

Gunwook swallows, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. “Actually, there’s something...” He trails off, unsure. He wants to ask Ricky what he would think if Gunwook revealed what happened with Matthew, but the words stick in his throat, tangled up with worry and doubt.

Ricky waits, patient and silent, giving Gunwook the space he needs to sort through his thoughts. The atmosphere thickens with anticipation, each second stretching longer as Gunwook wrestles with his uncertainty.

Taking a deep breath, Gunwook decides to dive in, albeit cautiously. “What would you say if...” he begins, his voice barely above a whisper, “if something unexpected happened between two friends? Like, something that could change everything?” He doesn’t specify, but the implication hangs heavily between them, a veiled reference to his own dilemma.

“Something unexpected…” Ricky repeats, as if prompting him to continue. 

Gunwook’s hands clench and unclench around his coffee cup, a silent testament to his nerves. He draws a deep breath, eyes locked on the table before meeting Ricky's gaze with an earnestness that underlines the gravity of what he's about to share.

“So, the other night... something happened," Gunwook begins, his voice tinged with hesitation. “At the party…after the game.”

Ricky nods, signaling him to continue, his expression encouraging.

“I got drunk, as you can remember and… I was hanging out with Matthew hyung the first part of the night,” Gunwook continues, his eyes darting away momentarily as he gathers his thoughts. “And, well, we were just talking, and then suddenly, it wasn't just talking anymore.”

Ricky's eyebrows rise slightly, prompting Gunwook to elaborate without interruption.

“I mean, we kissed,” Gunwook blurts out, the words rushing out faster than he intends. His gaze flicks up to Ricky, gauging his reaction. “It just happened, out of nowhere. And now, I'm not sure what it means, or what I should do about it.”

Ricky remains silent for a moment, processing the information, his demeanor thoughtful. “You like him then?” he finally asks, voice gentle yet probing, setting the stage for the deeper conversation that follows about feelings, friendship, and the possibilities that lay ahead for Gunwook and Matthew.

“I….” Gunwook pauses. 

“I know we had joked about it before,” Ricky continues. “But there’s nothing wrong if you do.” 

Gunwook's denial comes swiftly, almost instinctively, “No.” He pauses, considering the implications of his own response, his brows knitting together in confusion and self-doubt.

Perhaps perplexed by the suddenness, Ricky chuckles softly, leaning forward, his eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and wisdom. “Yes, you do. I’m telling you now. Kissing him? Thinking about him? And remember you being jealous because you thought someone might like hyung? That’s the definition of whipped — and take that from me.”

His cheeks flushing, Gunwook tries to grasp at straws. “But we aren’t super close,” Gunwook counters weakly, his argument sounding feeble even to his own ears.

Ricky’s expression turns serious, his voice earnest as he leans in closer. “You’ve known each other for some months, not years. Obviously, you don’t know every single thing about him, but isn’t that the fun of it? You are clearly interested in him, in learning more about him. Why don’t you give it a try?”

Gunwook’s voice is tinged with uncertainty, the edges of his words colored by a nagging fear. “I’m just scared he’s just being friendly.”

Ricky snorts, quick to dismiss Gunwook’s doubt with a dose of reality. “Well, he isn’t letting anyone else kiss him in his room, that’s for sure. He isn’t one to do that on a whim, Gunwook. We all know how he is.”

Gunwook chews on his lip, still unconvinced. “Okay, so maybe he doesn’t do that with others. But what if I’m just like a little brother to him?”

Ricky raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he recalls a previous confession from Gunwook. “Which little brother would he let ogle at his—” he begins, referencing the times Gunwook had mentioned staring admiringly at Matthew’s muscles.

Gunwook cuts him off, a flush creeping up his cheeks, but his tone is laced with reluctant acceptance. “Okay, okay, I get it,” he concedes, the reality of Ricky’s words sinking in.

Ricky leans forward, his tone genuine as he sees an opportunity to return the favor of tough love that Gunwook once offered him. “Take your own advice for once. You tried to knock some sense into me, now let me do that for you. It’s obvious you like him, or find him attractive. And it seems like he does too. It’s worth trying, isn’t it? I’m trying with Gyuvin and although he’s been a little scared about it, we are working through it.”

Gunwook sighs, the weight of his situation settling back on his shoulders. “I just... what do I do though? Like, should I tell him?”

Ricky contemplates for a moment before responding. “Maybe don’t tell him straight up yet. You have to let it marinate.”

“Yeah, I’m not waiting years like you and Gyuvin did,” Gunwook retorts.

Ricky rolls his eyes, exasperated. “Ugh. That’s not what I meant. Just... win him over. Do some things for him. Make him realize that you aren’t just a junior, that you’re someone he can actually see as a boyfriend.”

“I’ve never…done stuff like that…”

Ricky raises an eyebrow, a bit taken aback by Gunwook's admission. “You’ve never dated anyone?”

Gunwook's face clouds over with a mix of discomfort and fear. “No, I have. It's just…” He pauses, the memories of his last relationship threading through his mind. “I was the one being sought after. So, I don't have much experience with... you know, doing the pursuing.”

He remembers every time Gunwook was coerced into situations he had no control over, how he felt pressured and influenced by Dongmin. 

Ricky's expression softens, “Okay, that makes sense. But look, this is your chance to try something different,” he encourages, leaning forward to emphasize his point. “ You get to decide how you want this to play out. You’re not just waiting to be chosen — you’re doing the choosing this time. And that means you get to set the pace and the time."

For so long, Gunwook has been accustomed to a passive role in relationships, a spectator in his own romantic life, where the acts and affections of others dictated the course of events. He is familiar with the role of being pursued, the object of someone else's desires and decisions. 

But now, Ricky's advice echoes in the caverns of his mind, stirring a silent shift. 

You get to decide how you want this to play out.  

The words feel heavy, as a call to step into the arena himself, not as a prize to be won, but as a contender in his own right. The concept of choosing rather than being chosen is daunting.

For the first time, he can initiate, steer the interactions in desired directions, crafting moments and memories from a place of agency rather than acceptance. 

This narrative is his to write, his story to tell.

Sitting there, absorbing Ricky's words, Gunwook experiences a mix of exhilaration and fear. He imagines simple coffee dates, walks through the park, movie nights — all mundane activities, yet brimming with potential through the lens of intentionality. Each gesture, each invitation, is a step closer to revealing his heart, a subtle dance of disclosure and discovery.

Yet, amid the excitement, a quiet trepidation lingers. What if his advances aren't reciprocated? What if, in choosing to step forward, he only sets himself up for rejection? 

The stakes are higher when the heart leads, but so are the rewards. To love boldly, to pursue what he truly wants, means embracing both the potential for heartache and the promise of genuine connection.

This is about more than just romance; it's about growth, about challenging the old narratives that had confined him to the sidelines of his own desires. 

It's about asserting his worth, affirming that he has something valuable to offer — not just to be chosen, but to choose with purpose.

Fuck. Why is it hard?

“I can’t help you,” Ricky admits with a shrug. “Gyuvin usually has done things like that, although unknowingly. Maybe you should talk to... uh.”

“Hanbin hyung?” Gunwook interjects, the name slipping out before he fully considers the implications.

“Yeah, the things Hao-ge has said Hanbin has done are actually kind of romantic. Maybe he can help,” Ricky suggests, nodding thoughtfully. “Plus, they had their ‘friends to lovers’ era.”

Gunwook chews on his lower lip, wrestling with the idea. “Wait, but he’s Matthew hyung’s best friend. Are you sure that’s a good idea?” The potential for awkwardness — or worse, jeopardizing his slowly evolving relationship with Matthew by bringing his best friend into it — makes him wary.

Ricky pauses, the complication clearly dawning on him as well. “Oh... um. Actually, maybe just ask Hao-ge. I’m sure he and his romantic ass will have something to say.”

“Yeah, that might be better,” Gunwook agrees, feeling a bit more at ease with the plan.

Maybe, when he has the time, Gunwook will spill his heart out. When he has the courage, he will reply to Matthew’s text message that sits unread in his phone. When he figures out a plan, he will go ahead with it. 

Maybe what he needs is time. But…to him, it feels like he doesn’t have much left of it. 

The brisk winter air bites at Gunwook's cheeks as he makes his way towards the gym for the first practice session of the break. It's been nearly three weeks since he last saw Matthew, three weeks filled with silence, study, and solitude. 

The first week of break had been especially healing for Gunwook. With everything that occurred during and after the KU game, along with exams and quarter life crises, being home was what he needed. It gave him a small hideaway, a space where he could pretend everything in Seoul wasn’t actually happening. 

But now, being back in the city with his bag on his shoulder and practice jersey under his hoodie, it all feels too real again. 

As he pushes through the double doors of the gym, the familiar scent of polished wood hits him. He pauses just inside the entrance, his eyes scanning the large space, taking in the sight of his teammates already gathered on the court. 

Gunwook steps further inside and he absorbs the scene before him. Each player seems to have come back from the break with stories to tell, their bodies animated with gestures as they recount their adventures. 

But then….

Fuck . He had hoped he wouldn’t have seen him straight away, maybe Gunwook could’ve hid out in the locker room and distracted himself with Gyuvin or Ricky. But said distractions were enthralled in a conversation with the man Gunwook has been avoiding. 

Thus, Gunwook's gaze inevitably drifts to Matthew, who is in the midst of a group, animatedly describing something with his hands. Matthew's expression is one of excitement, his eyes lighting up as he speaks, pulling his audience in with the charisma that Gunwook knows all too well. 

It's the same enthusiasm that drew Gunwook to him in the first place, that magnetic pull that now tugs at his heartstrings with a mixture of fondness and trepidation.

As if sensing the weight of Gunwook's stare, Matthew looks up. Their eyes catch — just for a split second — and something unspoken passes between them. 

His heart pounds louder in his chest, and he can almost hear the whoosh of blood in his ears. Gunwook quickly looks away, feeling a familiar stir of emotions churn within him.

Seeing that everyone is already ready to practice, Gunwook beelines for the locker room. He dresses quickly, shoving his street clothes into the locker with a little more force than necessary, his mind swirling with the fleeting encounter with Matthew. 

Despite his desire to avoid the practice floor and the inevitable interactions it would bring, he knows delaying is not an option. Squaring his shoulders, he jogs back to the gym, his determination masking the reluctance that tugs at every step.

As he re-enters, Jiwoong blows his whistle, calling everyone to center court. Gunwook immediately attaches himself to Gyuvin who shoots him a welcoming smile. Ricky regards him with a concerned look but they say nothing as they follow their teammates to form a huddle around Jiwoong. 

“Welcome back,” Jiwoong begins with a warm smile, addressing his players. “I’m sure you enjoyed the start of the break, but as everyone knows, the season is beginning and we cannot afford to waste any time. Today, we will start easy, get those drills and conditioning in before we really start training tomorrow,” he decides firmly. 

There’s a combination of drawn out groans and cheers from the boys, but Gunwook doesn’t participate. He is a bit preoccupied. He glances every now and then at Matthew, who sits right next to Jiwoong’s feet. He leans into Hanbin’s side, looking utterly unbothered. 

Matthew listens to Jiwoong with rapt attention, nodding when prompted and snickering when one of the guys says something funny. And throughout it all, he doesn’t look at Gunwook once. And well…Gunwook deserves that, doesn’t he?

It’s been a long time without contact, and this avoidance comes after a kiss they shared…Matthew must be hurt. He must be angry even. Gunwook bites the inside of his cheek. And that hurts more than anything. 

“So, how about we get started? Everyone on the line,” Jiwoong claps with finality. Just as the team starts to disperse, Jiwoong calls out, “Matthew, Gunwook, I need you two to grab some extra gear from the storage closet. We’re short on practice balls.”

Gunwook's initial reaction is a visceral tightening in his chest. His pulse races, a familiar apprehension flooding through him at the thought of being in close proximity to Matthew under the pretext of a mundane task. 

Well…

Matthew appears unaffected by the tension, simply nodding and leading the way to the storage closet with an air of nonchalance. This only heightens Gunwook's anxiety, as he follows behind, trying to read any hint of emotion in Matthew's casual demeanor. 

Inside the dimly lit storage room, filled with stacks of equipment and the faint smell of rubber, the close quarters seem to amplify every small movement and sound. Matthew moves confidently, reaching for the basketballs with practiced ease, while Gunwook finds himself hyper-aware of every shift in Matthew's posture and every brush of his hands against the sports gear.

Gunwook struggles to find the right words to break the ice. The weight of everything unsaid seems to loom larger in the confined space, making it harder for him to breathe or think clearly. Matthew's apparent indifference, whether real or feigned, leaves Gunwook feeling uncertain about whether to voice his thoughts or keep them buried.

As they maneuver around the cluttered storage closet, Matthew's foot catches on a loose strap from a duffle bag, sending him stumbling forward with a surprised grunt. His shoulder collides with the wall, and a thud echoes through the tight space. Gunwook reacts instinctively, reaching out to steady him.

But at the last second, he hesitates, his fingers hovering over Matthew's exposed arm. Gunwook’s eyes are wide in surprise. At least it isn’t his wrist again. “Okay?” Gunwook whispers, so light and so fragile that he might as well have not. 

But Matthew hears him. “Yes,” he whispers back, just as light, just as wobbly. He exhales, the tightness around his eyes suggests the impact might have stung more than he lets on.

Gunwook doesn’t reply. He doesn’t know what he would say anyways. The first time they’ve spoken and it’s been singular words to each other. How could he breach a line he had drawn? One that Matthew has respected without even knowing why it is there in the first place. 

The quiet around them feels charged, each breath sounding louder in the silence that follows. Gunwook finds himself momentarily lost, unable to move, to speak. 

His heart races, each beat echoing loudly in his ears as he stands so close to Matthew, who looks slightly embarrassed by his stumble. The fall, trivial as it might be, has opened a small crack in Matthew's usual composed demeanor, revealing a more vulnerable side.

Gunwook, acting on an impulse, reaches out and brushes a strand of hair from Matthew's face. It's a gentle, almost tender gesture, one that might seem too intimate for their current relationship, but it feels right in the moment. Matthew pauses at the contact, his eyes locking with Gunwook's and there is a softness, a momentary drop in his guarded expression that speaks volumes.

Instead of commenting on the touch, Matthew reacts in a way that surprises them both. He hurriedly wraps his arms around Gunwook’s waist and pulls him a step closer. 

The move is bold, perhaps driven by a mix of adrenaline from the fall and the charged tension between them. Gunwook's breath catches in his throat as he feels Matthew's arms encircling him, the warmth of his body against his own making his heart thump erratically.

It’s just like that night. Gunwook’s cheeks burn and burn, the warmth of the boy that fits so perfectly in his arms encouraging that heat and bringing tears to his eyes. 

Matthew hasn’t said more than one word, but here, now, this hug… it’s enough for Gunwook to know that maybe Matthew understands. Whichever explanation Matthew has in his head, he must be okay with it. 

But that doesn’t comfort Gunwook.

He almost wants Matthew to be angry at him, to stand up for himself and his feelings the younger had played with. 

Gunwook deserves that much. He deserves that punishment, even if it hurts him. Gunwook ignored him, had gone home to his parents without an explanation, had taken and relished in that support Matthew offered and repaid him in this way. 

Matthew deserves more. 

For a few heartbeats, they stand there in the dim light, locked in an embrace that neither had anticipated but neither seems willing to break.

The closeness feels right, yet Gunwook's internal conflict casts a shadow over the moment. He can’t help but run his hands along Matthew’s shoulders and arms, feeling the muscle there — a physical connection that momentarily distracts him from his swirling thoughts. 

Matthew doesn’t react outwardly, pulling back with his gaze on Gunwook unreadable, deep and probing, leaving Gunwook unable to decipher what might be going through his mind. They remain silent throughout this, the air filled with tension and unasked questions.

Gunwook starts to rethink everything. His mind races back to previous experiences, to times when closeness meant something else, something less sincere. But he pushes these flashbacks away, focusing on the here and now, on the fact that his feelings in this dimly lit storage closet are different. 

The man before him — this hyung with wide, innocent eyes that Gunwook finds himself drawn to — offers a kindness, a sincerity that Gunwook cherishes. 

However, reality intrudes as the weight of their situation and the need to return to practice settle in. Matthew clears his throat, the sound sharp in the close space. “We should get back,” he murmurs, the words sounding inadequate but necessary. 

They separate slowly, the physical distance mirroring the emotional barrier that Gunwook knows he must eventually confront. They don’t say much else, like the moment together here is enough. But it isn’t. It isn’t at all. 

Matthew is the one that moves first, pushing Gunwook away with trembling hands, unclasping his hold. Gunwook obeys reluctantly, watching as Matthew hangs his head low and intakes a sharp breath. 

“Hyung,” Gunwook tries but Matthew doesn’t let him continue. 

Matthew sidesteps Gunwook, his movements quick and a little unsteady as he reaches for the heavy bag of basketballs that Jiwoong had sent them to retrieve. He lifts it with a grunt, the weight of the bag perhaps less than the weight on his shoulders.

Without another word or backward glance, Matthew walks out of the storage closet, his posture stiff and his steps purposeful. Gunwook stands there for a moment, frozen, the chilly air of the room suddenly more pronounced. The door swings shut with a click, leaving Gunwook alone in the dimly lit space. 

The stillness of the closet feels oppressive, and Gunwook realizes he can't stay there, wallowing in his confusion and disappointment. With a deep breath, he forces himself to move, to follow Matthew out, though at a distance. 

He needs to respect the space Matthew seems to require, but he also knows he can't let the situation fester without trying to understand, without attempting to reach out again, even if it must be later.

As Gunwook steps back into the gym, the noise and activity are a stark contrast to the quiet tension of the storage room. He spots Matthew across the court, already integrating back into the drills with a forced focus. 

Gunwook knows they need to talk, that whatever is happening between them needs to be addressed. But he also understands that timing is everything, and for now, he must wait, observe, and find the right moment to reopen the conversation that had been so abruptly cut off.

As the whistle blows signaling the end of practice, Gunwook's body feels the ache of exertion, but it's the emotional turmoil that weighs more heavily on him. 

He gathers his gear slowly, his movements a bit more sluggish as he processes the rollercoaster of emotions he's experienced. Nearby, Gyuvin and Ricky are bantering amongst themselves before spotting Gunwook. 

“Hey, you coming with us?” Gyuvin calls out to Gunwook, slinging his towel over his shoulder. “We’re thinking of grabbing some dinner. You in?”

Gunwook is about to agree, the prospect of a distraction welcome, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. 

Turning, he finds Matthew standing there, a tentative expression on his face. His presence immediately shifts his mood, and Gunwook's attention snaps fully to him, the noise and chatter of his friends fading into the background.

“Can we talk?” Matthew asks quietly, his eyes searching Gunwook’s for a sign of receptiveness. 

Gunwook glances back at Gyuvin and Ricky, who watch the exchange with a mix of curiosity and concern. 

Fuck. Maybe he isn’t ready yet. 

“Yeah, let's talk,” Gunwook responds, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his stomach. He gestures slightly to Gyuvin and Ricky, signaling a rain check. “I'll catch up with you guys later.”

Gyuvin nods, understanding the situation, and with a supportive squeeze on Gunwook’s shoulder, he backs away with Ricky, leaving Gunwook and Matthew in a suddenly quiet bubble of space amidst the departing athletes.

Matthew leads the way out of the gym, the darkness of the evening greeting them coldly. Gunwook keeps quiet, allowing Matthew the stage to speak as he wills. 

The silence between Matthew and Gunwook stretches taut as they walk through the darkening campus, each step echoing a mix of anticipation and apprehension. Matthew’s focus remains forward, his steps deliberate, leaving Gunwook to stew in a silence that feels both oppressive and necessary. 

It’s a quiet that allows Gunwook's thoughts to spiral, wondering why Matthew isn’t expressing the anger or frustration that Gunwook feels he deserves. This treatment — this withholding of words — stirs something deep and uncomfortable within him.

As they pass the softly lit buildings of the campus, the ambient light casting long shadows on their path, Matthew finally stops. He gestures towards a bench by one of the quiet campus fields. 

“Let’s sit here,” he suggests with a subdued tone, breaking the silence for the first time since they left the gym. Gunwook nods, feeling a heaviness settle around him as he follows Matthew to the bench.

They sit side by side, the cold metal of the bench chilling through their athletic gear. Matthew takes a deep breath, finally turning to face Gunwook. 

His expression is serious but not harsh, concerned but not accusatory. “Are you okay?” he asks gently, his voice carrying a sincerity that feels disarming.

The question hangs in the air, and Gunwook feels tears prick at the corners of his eyes. What?

Matthew pushes on before Gunwook can stutter out a response. “Have you been feeling okay?” he continues, exhaling shakily now. 

“Hyung…” Gunwook mumbles in confusion, eyebrows furrowed. Why aren’t you mad at me? Why aren’t you screaming at me? Why aren’t you ignoring me more? But instead he says, “I am now.”

Matthew’s reaction is immediate and visibly relieved; a small grin breaks through, softening his features. “That’s good,” he says, clearing his throat while his fingers fidget nervously. “I was worried.”

Gunwook's heart tightens. Worried? The thought that Matthew had been concerned during his silence, during his withdrawal, adds a new layer of guilt to his already heavy conscience. He doesn’t understand — why the patience, why the concern, why this gentle handling?

Matthew, seeming to sense Gunwook's inner conflict, elaborates. “You were buried in studies and… I know you were busy. I had asked Gyuvin if you were doing okay and he said that you were just, uhm, busy. I didn’t know how else to help, or if you even wanted my help.”

He was trying to be there for me, and I just shut him out. Gunwook feels a choke of emotion, his previous actions now painted in a stark, remorseful light.

“Hyung, I—” Gunwook struggles to find the words, his throat tight with emotion. “I didn’t know. I thought... I thought giving space was what I needed, but I didn’t consider how it would affect you. I’m sorry. I was so wrapped up in my own head, in my own problems...”

Matthew's firm yet gentle grip on Gunwook's hand halts all the burgeoning apologies about to tumble from his lips. “Stop,” Matthew insists softly, his fingers tightening reassuringly. “What did I say about saying sorry to me?”

And Gunwook… he’s speechless. 

His past relationship flashes through his mind, where his ex would have punished him for far less, using silence or cutting remarks as weapons. That toxic cycle had taught him to expect pain as a consequence of needing space, of asserting his own needs.

He looks into Matthew's eyes, searching for the usual signs of frustration or disappointment he had come to expect from others in the past, but finds none. Instead, there's only an unwavering kindness, a patience that feels both foreign and immensely soothing. 

Matthew’s grace is something new, something profoundly different from what Gunwook has experienced. It’s a treatment laced with genuine concern that doesn’t demand reciprocity or penance. 

Instead of reprimanding him, Matthew asked if he was okay. As if Gunwook hadn’t acted like an asshole. It's a response so devoid of ego, so full of empathy, that it disarms Gunwook completely.

“You’re too kind,” Gunwook repeats, a thought he had voiced to Matthew long ago. 

Like the phrase pains him, Matthew looks down at their connected hands. “I’m not,” he counters simply. “I’m not what you think I am, Gunwookie. I just…I care about you.” Gunwook looks at Matthew, really looks at him, seeing past the facade of unerring kindness to the genuine concern etched into his features.

“I ignored you…” Gunwook admits. “I disappeared off the face of the earth and here you are asking if I’m okay.” Matthew's face registers a momentary sadness as Gunwook's words sink in, not because they are harsh, but because they touch a sensitive chord. 

“Gunwookie,” Matthew croaks, eyes open with sincerity. “You’re the one that isn’t being kind to yourself,” he rubs Gunwook’s palm gently. “Is it so hard to believe that I’m more worried than angry, hm? Seeing you in pain…it pains me, too. I know you were having a hard time…then. The least I could do was let you recover in the way you know how. Who am I to impose on that?”

Who is he? Matthew…is everything. 

“I’m sorry,” Gunwook manages. “I’m sorry….that I….” left you without answers after our kiss…that I ignored you….that I treated you like you never mattered to me. He hesitates, his confession tangled up with a mix of shame and fear. 

He licks his lips nervously, feeling the intensity of Matthew's gaze, which is filled with concern but lacking any judgment. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Gunwook finally admits, letting the truth spill out. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you in…after….” They never really breach the topic, never explicitly mention their kiss. But Gunwook hopes he understands. 

Matthew's response is gentle, his voice low and soothing. “I know it's been hard on you,” he says, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on Gunwook’s shoulder, grounding him. “I could feel you pulling away, but I wasn't sure why. I hoped you’d come back when you were ready to talk about it.”

“The more I thought about you, the more confused I got,” Gunwook continues, his eyes searching Matthew's for understanding. “I was afraid of what all of it meant — afraid of changing what we have, afraid of needing you more than I should. And... I didn’t want to burden you with my mess.”

Matthew softens and before any of them can reply, he curls into Gunwook’s arms, stuffing his face in Gunwook’s neck. The silence around them engulfs them, the stars up above shining and shining. Gunwook hesitates, the touch both tempting and burning. 

His first thought is that he doesn’t deserve his hyung’s touch, he hasn’t earned it yet. Yet, as Matthew tightens his hold, his grip firm and reassuring around Gunwook's torso, it's a silent plea, a wordless encouragement that speaks volumes. It's as if Matthew is saying, it's okay, I'm here, you can let go.

Encouraged by this gesture, Gunwook's arms, initially tense and unsure, begin to relax. They find their way around Matthew’s smaller frame, pulling him closer, enveloping him in a gentle yet firm embrace. 

“It’s okay,” Matthew murmurs, his voice a comforting rumble against Gunwook's chest. “No matter what, I’ll stand by your side.” 

Gunwook's reaction is instinctive, his body tensing slightly before he consciously wills himself to relax again. He squeezes his eyes shut, the darkness behind his lids a momentary refuge from the intensity of the moment. 

That’s what I’m afraid of….

Chapter Text

“Gunwook! What are you doing?” Jiwoong yells across the court, displeased as he watches his players play a quick game against each other. 

Gunwook bites his lip, irritation elevating within him — but not at Jiwoong, no. He’s irritated with himself. All day he’s been off kilter. He hasn’t felt like he usually would at practice, and now it’s showing in the way he plays. He keeps missing, making bad passes, and accidentally bumping into someone. 

He’s grateful he’s only getting yelled at instead of taken out. It’d be embarrassing to be benched during his own practice. 

But it seems everyone else is reaching their breaking point, too. Everyone is stressed on their own. It’s the end of the second week of break, one week before the new semester starts, and their training has been anything but easy. 

Yesterday they had a particularly harsh weight training session. And it would’ve been completely fine, okay , if Matthew hadn’t been messing with him. 

Matthew didn’t exactly intend to mess with him (maybe). But Gunwook is a weak man. Every time they would look at each other across the room, Matthew muscles just suddenly became very apparent and…. Gunwook didn’t know how to deal with that. 

Matthew seemed completely oblivious, smiling as if nothing was wrong. Even later, when he lightly touched Gunwook’s exposed arm, asking if he could pass by him, Gunwook practically felt his heart stop. He didn’t speak in coherent sentences to Matthew after that. 

But later in the night, Gunwook got the courage to send him a good night message. Without a heart, he was too scared to fall back into that habit. Matthew had no qualms about doing just that, though. He sent a 🤍 with no shame. 

And now, that stupid dumb heart's all Gunwook can think about. Because…where does this leave them? They never really breached the subject of their kiss the night they had talked. If anything, it left more questions than answers. 

But talking is uncomfortable. Confrontation is uncomfortable. 

And this — whatever they’re doing — is comfortable. It’s easy. It makes all the butterflies in his stomach flutter for a reason other than having to figure out just what they are doing. 

“You good?” Jaehyun elbows Gunwook as they jog to center court. 

Distracted, Gunwook nods. “Yeah,” he replies even as his eyes graze along the short man a few feet from them, running to score a point. Matthew pays them no mind, focused on the game. “Come on.”

Practice continues just like that. Gunwook tries his best to get his head in the game, to focus and not let any warning bells ring for the people around him. He isn’t successful. He’s self aware enough to know that. 

Ricky shoots him many concerned glances, enough that even Hanbin notices. And Gunwook doesn’t know what Matthew has told Hanbin, they’re best friends after all, but Hanbin gently asks him how he is doing once they get a break. 

“I’m okay,” Gunwook replies hesitantly, careful not to be loud enough that Matthew would hear him. 

Perceptive, Hanbin tilts his head, like he doesn’t believe him. “You’ve been off all day,” he raises an eyebrow. “Do you feel sick? Hao hyung had said you weren’t sleeping well lately.”

Of course Zhang Hao told him. Gunwook holds back an amused smile. 

“I am,” he exhales, fidgeting with his water bottle. He’d rather die than tell Hanbin the truth. “I promise. Just a bit tired maybe. I’ll get my sleep schedule fixed. Don’t worry, hyung.”

“Okay, then,” Hanbin pats his shoulder. “You’d tell me if something is up, right? Anything.”

Gunwook nods languidly. “Yeah. I promise,” he replies. 

Hanbin smiles weakly. “If you’re not feeling well, you can skip retreat. It might be a lot for you if you feel sick or whatnot.”

But Gunwook shakes his head almost frantically. There’s no way in hell he will miss retreat. He’s heard so many good things about the beach his team will be staying at for two days before the semester starts. And remembering his retreat at KU from last year, he’s sure it will be fun and a time to unwind. 

“I’ll be fine,” Gunwook reassures quickly before Hanbin can get any ideas. “I’ll be there.”

Hanbin must find his enthusiasm either endearing or funny because he stifles a laugh, eye crinkled. “Okay, Gunwookie,” he intones, reaching out to ruffle his hair. 

“Break Time over!” Jiwoong announces, calling forth all his exhausted players. “Let’s run some drills and then you can get out of here.” There’s a rumble of quiet celebrations and grumbles as everyone sits back up to move to the court. 

Practice continues like that, without much event or even a peep from Matthew. But Gunwook’s mind runs wild, distracted as he thinks everything over, trying to piece things together that never seem to fit well. But it’s okay, after this, he can go back to his apartment and crash into bed. 

He will do his nightly routine, put his pajamas on, call his mom, and snuggle into his covers before waking up and coming to practice all over again. Just a week before retreat, right before their season starts for the year. 

He’s anxious about it all. These last weeks have been a rollercoaster ride, in and outside of basketball. And there’s no clear answers yet, which makes it all a thousand times worse. 

It must be around two a.m when Gunwook startles from his sleep. His heart is pounding dangerously, sweat sticking hair strands to his forehead. “Fuck,” he grumbles, voice croaky. He palms his face as he attempts to calm his breathing. 

Nightmares are a rare occurrence for Gunwook. They have been for the past months. He likes to think he’s gotten better, that he has forgotten everything that occurred at his old school. But then there are times like now when he will wake up in cold sweat, sheets a mess around him, and breath shortened with the remnants of panic clinging onto his skin. 

This dream was new. 

Usually, his dreams would consist of memories. He’d be transported back into those events, the ones that led to his eventual expulsion from KU. And sometimes, the ending will be different. But each ending, no matter how optimistic, would always end up worse than the reality. 

But this time… the lighting was different. The way Dongmin spoke had been different. He was… eviler? He spoke with a darkness that rivaled the snarl that often accompanied his comments he’d direct to Gunwook. 

The ending. It was…. fuck . What does it all mean?

Without thinking much, Gunwook scrambles to grab his phone from the nightstand, disconnecting it from the charger and squinting when it turns on, the light too bright for the darkness of the room. He sees the time and curses before unlocking his phone. 

He doesn’t really know what prompts him to do this, maybe it’s the grogginess that makes his logical reasoning impaired, or maybe he’s vulnerable right now, and every want he’s harbored is winning against his restraint. But Gunwook bites his lip as he opens his messaging app. 

Me

Hyung are |

Hyung are you awake? |

Hyung are yo|

Hyung a|

Hy|

|

Gunwook shakes his head. No. That doesn’t sound right. 

Me

hyung  

The message is sent before Gunwook can chicken out. He lays impatiently, the rise and fall of his chest never ceasing to increase its pace. The reply comes quick enough, the sound of the notification startling him. His finger shakes as he opens the chat once more. 

Matthew Hyung 🏀🤍

hi gunwookie 

what’s up?

What should he say? “Uh,” Gunwook mumbles to himself, mouth dry. Scrambling to conjure up a decent reply, Gunwook places a hand on his chest as he texts with the other. 

Me

what r u up to?

Would it be so bad to simply ask for some company? Even if it's over text. Gunwook gulps, closing his eyes. He can’t fathom why Matthew is his first choice. He knows Zhang Hao or Taerae would gladly stay with him, even at this hour. 

Matthew… Gunwook hasn’t spoken to him with a decent, full conversation since that night at the bench. They’ve said hello to each other at the start of practices, but as luck may have it, they hadn’t been paired at all. So there was never opportunity to talk. 

But now, he just wants that comfort he so desperately misses. He imagines Matthew’s hand in his, rubbing the back of his palm, soothing him just with his touch. He imagines Matthew at his side, chattering aimlessly in an attempt to distract him from the storm in his head. 

But he isn’t here. All he has is his phone as his hand trembles. 

Matthew Hyung 🏀🤍

was just watching some videos :D

did you need something?

Did Gunwook need something? He tries to think of something tangible, something he can use as an excuse without breaching that topic. 

Me

nothing, was just wondering

I woke up suddenly and was curious

Matthew Hyung 🏀🤍

oh! 😣 r u okay????

Me

Yeah, of course |

Yeah, o |

|

not really, no

The moment the message sends, all Gunwook feels is a sense of dread. Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Matthew doesn’t have to know. He shouldn’t be subjected to deal with Gunwook’s angsty antics. Gunwook is fine . He can simply close his eyes and try to make himself go to sleep. 

But deep down, Gunwook knows it’s hopeless. He can’t go back to sleep now if he tried. 

Another ping. 

Matthew Hyung 🏀🤍

what happened??

Me

uhm

I had a nightmare 

just am not feeling well

Gunwook’s breath halts, paused as he waits for the response. He’s being too honest right now, the darkness of the night acting as a shield that this is real. 

[ Incoming call from Matthew Hyung 🏀🤍 ]

What. The. Fuck. 

Gunwook’s eyes open wide in surprise. Wait, wait, wait. This isn’t in the plan. He doesn’t even think he can speak coherently right now, much less hold a conversation. 

The ringtone continues for a few more seconds before Gunwook hesitantly presses answer. He slowly puts his phone to his ear, the cold of the screen against his cheek ignored as he braces himself. It’s stupid, probably. But Matthew has never called him like this, especially this late at night. 

“Gunwookie?” Matthew’s voice rings through the speaker, quiet and comforting. Gunwook lets out a small breath, not enough to relax, but enough to show that he is getting better right now. 

“Ye-Yes?” He stutters. He mentally flicks himself. How embarrassing. 

“Are you in bed?” The voice is sweet, gentle. Like he genuinely cares. It hurts Gunwook’s heart. 

“Yeah,” Gunwook replies dumbly. “And you?”

Matthew hums. “Yeah,” there’s a shuffle in the background, like he’s shifting in his covers. “Wasn’t doing much. I couldn’t really sleep.”

Gunwook presses his lips together, worried. Here he is, clutching the shirt on his chest, trying to regain some semblance of control, but still worried over the boy far from him right now. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Gunwook repeats. “Did you mess up your sleep schedule again?” The words fail to come off as playful as he intended. Instead, they’re thin, shaky enough to betray his cracked composure. 

“No,” Matthew responds with an elongated tone. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

A lot on his mind. Tell me about it…

Gunwook clears his throat. “Want to talk about it?” Gunwook offers shyly, hoping for the distraction. He moves so he’s lying on his side, looking out the crack of the curtain, taking in the beautiful lights of the city below. 

“Just been thinking a lot lately,” Matthew reveals with an exhale. “I feel like there are a lot of things I haven’t really thought through, you know? I’ve been feeling unsure.”

Unsure? Gunwook furrows his eyebrows, even though he knows Matthew can’t see him. “What do you mean?” He frowns. 

Matthew pauses for a moment. “The season. My injury. I don’t know if I’m improving fast enough, healing fast enough. The doctor gave me the go-ahead to continue practice but… I feel like I’m constantly over analyzing every movement of my wrist. And it’s probably nothing, you know? But it scares me anyways. The team needs me this season. Everyone is capable, I think we have the best team now compared to the past years, but… I want to be reliable,” he grouses. 

Gunwook is stunned. The vulnerability in his voice strikes a chord in him. He has seen Matthew cry before, and has hugged him while in this state. But Gunwook isn’t there with him right now. He can’t comfort him in the foolproof way he knows. 

“Hyung,” Gunwook mutters in disbelief. He clutches his covers closer to his body. “You’re one of the most reliable players,” he attempts to comfort. He doesn’t know if it’s working though. “You’ve been improving lately. Like the doctor said, you’re good to practice again as long as you let yourself rest every now and then…don’t worry about that.”

“Thank you,” Matthew whispers into the phone, his voice sending a shiver down Gunwook’s spine. “That…that means a lot coming from you.”

Coming from Gunwook? “I just don’t want you to feel bad about it, hyung,” Gunwook hushes back. “Like I said before…I look up to you and… know that no matter what, I-uhm. I always will.”

There’s a beat of silence. “You’re so cute,” Matthew chuckles weakly, soft as it flickers and dances like a candle flame, sending the blood rushing to Gunwook’s cheeks. “I know. I know how you feel,” he says, like he knows the answers to the world, like he means it more than it comes off. “But thank you for telling me anyway.”  

Gunwook licks his lips nervously. He’s never been good with words, expressing his feelings this way. And it brings some form of relief knowing that Matthew acknowledges his effort. 

“Don’t thank me,” Gunwook recites, remembering the same words Matthew told him. “There’s no need for that between us, hyung.” 

Matthew laughs wetly, like he’d been crying. “Force of habit,” Matthew says offhandedly. Gunwook and him are more similar than he thought. Even with Matthew’s endless insistence that Gunwook’s feelings should be first, he brushes off his own. 

“Hyung,” Gunwook almost whines, breathless. “Are you crying?”

Matthew hums, “Don’t worry about me,” he chides playfully, voice raspy. 

“How can I not?” Gunwook replies, frail. 

“You really are something, Gunwookie,” Matthew says, as if thinking to himself. Gunwook’s breath hitches. “I’m okay. What I'm more worried about is you. You said you had a nightmare?”

Oh. Yeah. That. 

“I did,” Gunwook answers, feeling inexplicably tired. “It wasn’t too bad just…haven’t had them in a while and I got a little anxious.” Scared sounds like a better description but he doesn’t say it out of embarrassment. 

“Anxious?” Matthew repeats. “How bad was it?” he inquires almost hesitantly. 

Gunwook thinks he can tell Matthew anything right now, the weakness he’s been fighting off winning this silent battle. He swallows the lump in his throat. “Just about…what happened when I left KU,” Gunwook mumbles, unsure if it’s understandable enough. But he continues regardless. “I haven’t had dreams about it in a while. So I was a bit surprised.”

“Was it new or like a recurring one?” Matthew asks quietly. 

“Both,” Gunwook replies, confused on his own. “I don’t know. I just… didn’t expect it at all and—”

But Matthew interjects. “You don’t have to tell me, you know?” he reminds him. 

Gunwook shakes his head, blushing when he remembers Matthew can’t see him. “It’s okay, hyung,” Gunwook hushes. “It just isn’t a pleasant memory. With everything happening lately…I’ve been preoccupied.”

“Do you want to walk me through it?” Matthew offers genuinely. 

“I…” Gunwook breathes. Does he? Would it be fair to trauma dump on him when Matthew himself is dealing with something on his own right now? “You wouldn’t mind? It isn’t a nice story, you know?”

There’s a noise similar to a scoff. “Gunwookie. I’ll listen to anything you say. I’ll be here if you need me…and even when you don’t.” 

Gunwook thinks he will always need him. 

“Well…” Gunwook clears his throat. “Last year….I’m not sure if you knew this but…I used to date the captain of the team,” he reveals nervously. 

He waits a few seconds, trying to gauge Matthew’s reaction. When he gets a simple hum prompting him to continue, Gunwook does. 

“We dated for a few months. He…really wasn’t a nice person. He wasn’t very good to me either,” Gunwook tries for a chuckle but it falls flat. “He would be pretty mean to me in front of others. He’d use my performance at practice against me and he’d punish me a lot of the time. But I admired him a lot. I thought that since he was older that he knew everything of the world that I didn’t. So I trusted him blindly. I would go along with everything he’d say, even if it never felt right.”

“Did he…hurt you?” The question quavers. 

Gunwook doesn’t think he can lie.

 “He did…once.”

Gunwook was exhausted. It was nighttime, the moon shining high up in the sky, and the gym empty as it always was at this time. Gunwook rummaged through his locker, looking for his clothes so he could leave back to his dorm without preamble. 

But his plan was soiled when footsteps reached his ears. He looked at the entrance of the locker room, breath hitching when he saw Dongmin standing there. They had been tense for the past couple of hours, their private practice particularly harsh today. 

“Leaving already?” Dongmin commented slyly, like it was meant as a tease. 

What else would I be doing?

“Yeah,” Gunwook replied, already slipping on his shirt. “A bit tired.” He was exhausted. 

“Won’t you stay a bit longer?” Dongmin asked, but it sounded more like an order. 

Gunwook knew what was expected of him and he shut his eyes in frustration, facing away from his boyfriend that had begun to annoy him more and more these past few days. “My mom wants me back to my room soon. She’s worried.”

Dongmin scoffed. “What are you? 12?” He laughed. “Why is your mom so worried about you?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Gunwook wondered if Dongmin’s mom ever worried about him. “She just wants to make sure I’m safe,” he explained. “She doesn’t forbid me from doing anything. You know that,” he almost spit. 

But Dongmin must not have liked his tone because he remained silent, footsteps clear as he approached Gunwook menacingly. Gunwook tensed, back almost curling in as he braced himself. He didn’t know for what though, but he got an answer when he was forcibly pushed against the lockers, the bang reverberating throughout the room. 

“What—”

“Are you not feeling safe with me?” Dongmin narrowed his eyes. “What lie are you spewing to her?”

But Gunwook didn’t understand at all. “What do you mean?”

“Does she not think you’re safe with me?” Dongmin enunciated. 

“She doesn’t…” Gunwook paused, fear overtaking him for the first time as he observed the hardened look on Dongmin’s face. “She doesn’t know about us.”

And Gunwook wished that Dongmin understood. It’s not like Dongmin was loud and proud about being Gunwook’s boyfriend. He forbade Gunwook from speaking about their relationship with the team, especially Dongmin’s father, the coach. 

So it truly shocked Gunwook when Dongmin snarled. “And why not? Are you ashamed to be with me?” He said. 

Gunwook didn’t understand why he was acting this way. He always talked like this, Gunwook noticed. Dongmin would find something small and let it build up until Gunwook was forced to apologize for something he realized later he didn’t need to. But now at this moment, with Dongmin staring him down, Gunwook didn’t know how to react. 

He was clear headed enough now to recognize this pattern. It’s something his brother had helped him figure out a couple of weeks ago, but Gunwook never had the courage to end things, too afraid of the repercussions. 

Angry, Dongmin slammed his fist against the lockers, right by Gunwook’s ear. Gunwook flinched horribly at the sound, breath hitched. What was his problem? “Answer me.”

“I’m not,” Gunwook stuttered pathetically. “That’s not true.”

Dongmin rolled his eyes. “You’re always like this,” he mumbled. 

Either brave or stupid, Gunwook replied, “Like what?”

Dongmin scoffed. “Why are you acting as if you don’t know?” 

Because he doesn’t. 

“Dongmin…”

But Dongmin doesn’t let him continue, surging forward to capture his resistant lips. Gunwook wanted to push away, to yell and scream to leave him alone. But he couldn’t because every word and insult Dongmin had ever thrown at him came to his mind quickly. 

“Dongmin—“ Gunwook panted. “Wait.” 

Dongmin pulled away enough to furrow his eyebrows with annoyance. “Why are you like this??”

Gunwook didn’t know. And he couldn’t react quick enough as Dongmin continued. His hands became braver, his grip stronger, and Gunwook refused and tried not to become pliant in his hold. He couldn’t allow Dongmin to try this again. 

When Gunwook had pushed his arm away, he gasped when Dongmin trapped his wrist against the locker. It was a struggle that Gunwook felt he couldn’t win. But he knew he had to free himself. He couldn’t let this man control him any longer. 

And with all the strength Gunwook had, he wrenched his hand out of Dongmin’s grip, and with a wind up, he pulled back and punched Dongmin square in the face. 

The impact of Gunwook's fist against Dongmin's face reverberated through the empty locker room, a harsh echo of the struggle and defiance that surged within him. It was a moment of raw, visceral release. 

Dongmin stumbled back from the force of the punch, shock and pain registering on his face as he clutched his nose, now bleeding. The sudden reversal of power stunned him, his eyes widening with a mix of anger and disbelief. Gunwook, panting from the exertion and adrenaline, stood his ground, his chest heaving. 

His fist throbbed, but so did his sense of righteousness. For too long, he had allowed Dongmin's intimidating presence to dictate his actions, to encroach upon his personal space and peace of mind.

As Dongmin regained his balance, his expression morphed into one of fury, but the blood streaming down his face was a stark reminder of his vulnerability and the consequences of underestimating Gunwook’s resolve. “You’re going to pay for that,” Dongmin hissed, wiping the blood with the back of his hand, his gaze menacing.

Dongmin took a step forward but before Dongmin could get far, Gunwook took quick, determined steps towards him and Gunwook’s fist connected again with his face. The impact was even more forceful than the first, fueled by all the pent-up anger and the desire to make a lasting impression that this behavior was unacceptable.

Dongmin stumbled backward, this time falling to the ground, clutching his face in shock and pain. The room echoed with the impact, a stark sound that seemed to slice through the usual background noise of the night.

Breathing heavily, Gunwook stood over Dongmin, his chest heaving with a mix of adrenaline and a profound, cathartic release. “Never again,” he breathed out, his voice low but fierce. “Do you hear me? Never again. You don’t get to hurt me anymore.”

But Dongmin had had enough. He stood up quickly, this time rushing to slam Gunwook against the lockers once more. “Let’s see how strong you are now,” he laughed and began to roam his hands once more in places that had Gunwook panicking. 

“What are you doing?” Gunwook seethed. He was powerless once more. 

Each attempt by Gunwook to maintain his newfound assertiveness seemed to falter under the weight of Dongmin's persistent aggression. As the tears began to stream down his face, a reflection of the internal conflict and the weariness from the constant struggle, Gunwook felt a weakening in his resolve.

However, as Dongmin continued, something within Gunwook snapped — a visceral refusal to revert to the victim he once was. It was as if a voice in the back of his head was yelling at him, jolting him back to the reality of his situation. Defend yourself! What are you doing?! The internal scream was deafening, drowning out his fear and reigniting his resolve.

With a surge of adrenaline, Gunwook's survival instincts kicked in. He couldn't allow himself to be subdued or humiliated — not again. He pushed Dongmin away. As Dongmin reached out to grab him again, Gunwook ducked under his arms and managed to sidestep, putting some distance between them. His heart pounded fiercely, a mix of fear and determined anger fueling his movements.

Dongmin paused, perhaps surprised by Gunwook's sudden resurgence of courage. The moment of hesitation was all Gunwook needed to reaffirm his determination not to fall back into old patterns of helplessness.

As Dongmin paused, caught off guard by the unexpected show of defiance, Gunwook seized the moment. His fists clenched, driven by a rush of adrenaline and a surge of raw emotion, he delivered another swift punch, fueled not just by the need to defend himself, but by the pent-up anger from all the times he had felt powerless. 

Gunwook didn't stop; he kept moving, his actions a flurry of desperation and release, each hit a statement that he was no one's victim.

Dongmin tried to retaliate, but the surprise and intensity of Gunwook's assault threw him off. The struggle became chaotic, a mess of swinging arms and muffled curses, until suddenly, they weren't alone. 

Out of nowhere, someone from the team burst into the locker room, their shout piercing the haze of Gunwook's frenzy.

“Stop! Stop it, both of you!” The voice belonged to one of his teammates who rushed forward and pulled Gunwook away forcefully, breaking up the fight. His grip was tight on Gunwook’s arm, restraining him from going any further.

The taste of adrenaline lingered bitterly on his tongue, mixed with a disturbing sense of satisfaction. As he looked back to see Dongmin, wincing as he touched his bloodied lip, a dark part of Gunwook's heart fluttered with a vindictive sort of pleasure. It was a feeling he hadn't anticipated, one that frightened him with its intensity. 

He deserved it, a voice whispered inside him, after everything he's done to you.

Dongmin had been a constant source of pain in Gunwook's life, a looming figure that had instilled fear and helplessness in him for far too long. Every shove against the lockers, every demeaning word, every moment Gunwook had felt small and insignificant flashed through his mind as he stood there, momentarily free from his aggressor's influence. 

The violence wasn't him; Gunwook knew that much. He wasn't someone who resorted to fists to solve problems. But today, he had been pushed past a point he didn't know he could go.

Yet, seeing Dongmin vulnerable and hurt stirred a complex whirlpool of emotions within Gunwook. There was relief and a primal sense of justice mixed with a profound unease. Is this who I am? Gunwook questioned himself, feeling the weight of his actions settle like a stone in his stomach. Am I capable of enjoying someone else's pain?

Now, he had allowed that pent-up anger to explode, and it terrified him.

But I had to do it, didn't I? Another part of his mind argued. Wasn't I defending myself? Haven't I had enough of being pushed around, of being scared?

As his teammate led him further away, his grip loosening, Gunwook realized things would never be the same again. 

The line is silent for a moment after Gunwook's admission, the weight of his words settling heavily between them. Matthew's breathing is audible, a soft, steady sound that contrasts sharply with the mess Gunwook feels inside. It's clear Matthew is processing, trying to find the right words to say next.

“Gunwook,” Matthew finally speaks, his voice low and careful, “I'm so sorry you went through that. No one should ever make you feel like that, use you or hurt you. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

Gunwook squeezes his eyes shut, feeling a mixture of relief and raw vulnerability. Hearing Matthew acknowledge his pain soothes a part of him, but it also rips open old wounds that he's tried hard to mend.

There's a brief pause, and then Matthew continues, his tone resolute. “I know I'm not him, Gunwook, and I know our situation is different. But I want you to know, you can trust me. I'm here for you, not to judge or control you but to support you. You're strong, Gunwookie,” Matthew’s voice trembles , “stronger than you were with him. And you’re not alone anymore.”

Gunwook's breath catches at Matthew's words, a mixture of surprise and a twinge of vulnerability flaring up within him. 

The mention, albeit indirect, of their evolving, yet unspoken, relationship tugs at a thread of anticipation and apprehension he hadn’t fully acknowledged until now. His heart races slightly, the implications of Matthew's words settling in. 

He decides to steer away from the depths they had nearly explored about their personal relationship and brings the focus back to his past experience with Dongmin.

“Yeah, he was... tough on me,” Gunwook admits, his voice a bit strained as he remembers. “He used everything he could to keep me in line. Made examples out of me in front of the whole team.”

There's a pause as Matthew absorbs this, and then he responds, his tone careful, “That sounds really rough, Gunwook. No one should have to go through that.”

Gunwook nods, even though Matthew can't see him. “It was,” he says, and there's a hint of something like relief in his voice, softening as he shares the burden of those memories. “It took me a while to see that it wasn't just tough coaching... it was something else. Something wrong.”

Matthew listens silently, giving Gunwook the space to articulate his thoughts, his gentle breathing a quiet support in the background.

“I kept thinking if I just did better, he’d stop. That it was my fault for not meeting his standards. But nothing ever changed, no matter how hard I tried,” Gunwook continues, his tone reflecting the realization of his past naivety.

“That's manipulation, Gunwook. It was him, not you. You know that now, right?” Matthew's voice comes through clear and firm, meant to reassure and reinforce.

“Yeah, I do,” Gunwook answers slowly. “It took me too long to realize and even longer to start standing up for myself.”

“It’s good that you did, though,” Matthew says. “You don’t deserve that treatment. You deserve more. You are more than what you were given.”

Gunwook feels a flutter of warmth at Matthew's words, a sense of reassurance that feels almost intimate given their shared history and the depth of understanding between them. 

“There's strength in you that you're just beginning to see, Gunwook,” Matthew responds, his voice carrying a tender note. “ You’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”

A gentle smile spreads across Gunwook's face, touched by the sincerity and perhaps something more — a hint of affection that seems to seep through the phone line. 

“Yeah. I’m starting to see that now,” he admits softly. 

As the early morning sun casts its warm glow over the school parking lot, Gunwook adjusts his duffel bag on his shoulder, anticipation mixed with a hint of anxiety as he prepares for the basketball team's retreat to the beach. It's meant to be a final bonding experience before the end of the break, and the buzz of excitement among his teammates is palpable.

Standing next to him, Gyuvin and Ricky are practically inseparable. Since they've finally gotten together, their dynamic has shifted into that of a couple that can't seem to stop playfully bickering and teasing each other — a stark contrast to their previous, more subdued (that’s a lie) interactions.

Gyuvin hangs onto Ricky’s arm, chattering in his ear about who knows what. Gunwook regards them with a look of disgust. 

“Hao hyung really went all out planning this retreat,” Gunwook comments to Ricky and Gyuvin, nodding towards Zhang Hao who is busy coordinating last-minute details with the bus driver. 

Hanbin stands next to him, a proud look on his face. Zhang Hao had apparently helped Hanbin plan this whole thing, but Gunwook thinks he did it just so he can join them. Taerae had helped as well…but…

“Where is Taerae hyung?” Gyuvin asks, focusing on grabbing Ricky’s bags for him. 

Ricky chuckles, glancing around. “Gyub, he snagged an invite to hang out at that fancy hotel with Coach and some of the other staff tonight.”

Nearly dropping his own bag, Gyuvin’s jaw drops. “Wait, for real?”

Gunwook rolls his eyes. “As if he needed another reason to gloat. Now he’s practically part of the staff royalty.”

Their conversation is cut short as the bus doors open with a hiss, signaling it’s time to board. The team starts funneling towards the bus as Gunwook hoists his bag more securely onto his shoulder and follows the crowd.

As they settle into their seats, the noise level inside the bus escalates with conversations and laughter filling the air. Gunwook finds himself a window seat in the back, hoping for a moment of quiet to watch the scenery blur by. He watches as Ricky and Gyuvin take the seats across the aisle from him, once again paying him no mind as they entrap themselves in their own little world. 

Couldn’t they wait a few more days to actually get together? Gunwook needs them as a shield right now. 

But Gunwook’s thoughts on the situation are interrupted as the bus door swings open one last time, and Matthew steps on board. The chatter dips for a moment as Matthew pauses at the entrance, scanning the bus with a relaxed smile. One of the hyungs calls for Matthew but the man just waves him off with a smile. 

Oh. Fuck. He’s walking straight toward him. 

Matthew spots Gunwook and approaches him with an excited stride. “Saved me a seat, right?” he asks with a beaming smile, though it's clear from his tone that it's more of an affectionate statement than a question. 

Without waiting for a reply, Matthew slides into the seat beside him and Gunwook can't mask his surprise. His first reaction is a slight stiffening; the sudden proximity to Matthew, especially given the unspoken undercurrents of their recent conversations, sends a jolt of apprehension through him. 

Gunwook spots Ricky and Gyuvin talking amongst each other, sending Matthew and him very telling looks. Gunwook wants to jump over and smack them. 

Since the last time he and Matthew had talked, over the phone, they’ve been casually texting. Not as often as before, but Gunwook counts it as a win in his book. At least Matthew doesn’t regard him with any form of awkwardness. 

“Hey,” Matthew says, seemingly oblivious to Gunwook's internal debate. He settles in, placing his bag down with a relaxed ease. Matthew glances over, catching the fleeting expression of discomfort on Gunwook's face. “Everything okay?” he probes gently, a hint of concern threading through his casual demeanor.

Gunwook clears his throat, attempting to shake off the awkwardness. “Yeah, just didn't expect you to sit here, that's all,” he admits, trying to sound nonchalant. His hands fidget slightly, betraying his nervousness.

Matthew nods, his eyes softening with understanding. “I figured we could catch up a bit,” he explains, his voice low enough not to carry over the buzz of conversations around them. “But, hey, if you need space—“

“No! No, it’s fine. I mean, I'm glad,”  Gunwook interrupts quickly, too quickly perhaps. He offers a more genuine smile this time, wanting to reassure Matthew — and maybe himself — that his company is more than welcome.

The bus lurches forward as they begin their journey, the steady hum of the engine a comforting background noise. Matthew leans back, observing Gunwook with an easy smile. 

“Did you sleep well?” Matthew asks softly. 

“Yeah,” Gunwook replies. “Did you?” Matthew nods, his gaze holding more weight than Gunwook can bear on his own. 

As the bus cruises along the highway, the conversation between Matthew and Gunwook flows effortlessly. Matthew is in the middle of recounting a story when, almost casually, he reaches over and takes Gunwook's hand in his. The gesture is gentle, but deliberate, catching Gunwook slightly off guard.

The warmth of Matthew's hand envelops his, and for a moment, Gunwook's breath hitches. The noise of the bus and the chatter around them seems to fade into the background, narrowing his world down to the intimate space Matthew has created between them. 

Gunwook looks down at their intertwined fingers, then back up to Matthew, searching his face for an explanation or perhaps reassurance.

Matthew's smile doesn't waver; it's soft and a bit enigmatic. “And I didn’t know what to tell Hanbin after that,” he says with a light chuckle, “I was lucky that Hao hyung helped me hide the evidence,” he adds, giving Gunwook's hand a gentle squeeze. His tone is casual, but his eyes hold a deeper, unspoken question, gauging Gunwook's comfort with the contact.

As Gunwook feels the comforting pressure of Matthew's fingers intertwined with his, he wonders if this is his moment to do just as Ricky had advised him before — to reciprocate the affection and perhaps, subtly, move their relationship beyond the boundaries of friendship. Ricky's words echo in his mind, urging him not to miss the opportunity to express his feelings, however tentatively.

Gunwook looks down at their intertwined fingers, then back up to Matthew, who is still sharing his story about Hanbin and Zhang Hao. Matthew's smile is easy, his demeanor open and inviting. 

Feeling bolstered by Ricky's advice and his own growing affection, Gunwook tightens his grip slightly, affirming his comfort and interest. He listens intently, now more engaged. Matthew practically beams, although no words are said, it seems they both understand what this means — as small as it may be. 

The ride continues just like that, with Matthew speaking while Gunwook listens, Ricky and Gyuvin in their own little world, and the rest of their teammates chatting loudly about god knows what. 

Pathetically, Gunwook is freaking out on his own…because fuck . No matter how many times this has occurred, having any form of physical contact with this man will send his heart pounding. 

And Matthew looks exceptionally good today (he always does). His blond hair is styled to perfection, his hoodie envelopes his entire body (Gunwook wonders what Matthew would like in one of his hoodies), and eyes are bright with excitement. 

Gunwook likes to think that Matthew is freaking out as well. Does he feel the same? Does he feel like the world can end right now and he’d die happy — just like Gunwook?

He doesn’t get his answers though, because before he knows it, Gunwook finds himself getting sleepy. Their conversation has ceased by now, with Matthew silent as he continues to hold onto Gunwook’s hand. They sit in relative quiet, the sounds of their teammates snoring around them clear to their ears. 

Gunwook doesn’t want to sleep, though. He wants to be in this moment. Just for a little bit. But his exhaustion seems to be winning and when he accidentally bumps Matthew’s head with his own as his eyes close shut, Matthew smiles. “Take a nap,” he says gently, bringing their joined hands into the pocket of his hoodie. 

And who is Gunwook to say no? 

His body follows the suggestion easily, head guided to rest on Matthew’s as his eyes slip shut. The last thing he remembers is the warmth of his palm as Matthew caresses the skin with more gentleness than Gunwook thinks he himself deserves. 

Walking out of the bus is incredibly humbling. 

Having to deal with the suggestive looks his own two friends send him and the silent questions Zhang Hao telepathically asks him is not easy when Matthew doesn’t let go of his hand. Gunwook feels a sense of panic at that because… does Matthew not mind at all?

Gunwook would have thought that Matthew would move away from him when any of their teammates spotted them holding hands. But Matthew doesn’t seem to give that a second thought. And Gunwook…he simply doesn’t know what to think about that. He’s never really been open about these things with people he isn’t close to. And it’s not like he and Matthew are a thing. If someone asked, what would Gunwook say?

But seeing Matthew not care when Gyuvin wiggles his eyebrows and instead laughs it off, Gunwook feels a flutter in his chest. Embarrassed, Gunwook’s face is also swollen from sleep, but Matthew simply boops his cheek and helps him walk out. 

The entire team files out of the bus with loud chatter and an argument between Jaehyun and Sungho that everyone overhears. 

“Sleep well?” Ricky slides next to Gunwook once Matthew goes to help Hanbin bring down one of his bags. They are gathered outside by the entrance of the airbnb they’ll be staying at. 

It’s bigger than Gunwook had expected. But granted, housing around fifteen grown men is going to need a lot of space. And by the shore, too? The school budget really helped…

“Don’t start,” Gunwook deadpans. 

Ricky shrugs. “I just asked a simple question,” he says. 

Gunwook narrows his eyes. “I can already tell what you’re going to say,” he scoffs. “But if I said something about you… ” he waves his hands as if to express the hypocrisy. 

“Well, Gyuvin and I figured our stuff out so I don’t care anymore,” Ricky counters nonchalantly. 

“Well, good for you,” Gunwook sighs, watching as Matthew and Hanbin look over some paperwork while Zhang Hao talks with the bus driver again. “Some of us aren’t that lucky,” he mumbles. 

“Gunwook,” Ricky starts. “What are you worried about now?”

But isn’t it obvious? Gunwook scoffs again. “Are you being serious? What should I not be worried about?”

“Here you are not taking your own advice again,” Ricky muses with a knowing glance. “I think you are on the right track.”

Frustrated, Gunwook bites the inside of his cheek. “Doesn’t feel that way,” he relents. “It’s just very confusing right now.”

“Did you talk about it?”

Gunwook keeps silent for a moment. “No…Yes? Kind of.”

Ricky arches an eyebrow with confusion. “Yes or no?”

“We talked but like…we also didn’t?”

“Then what did hyung and you discuss?” Ricky asks incredulously, referencing the time Matthew led Gunwook away after that one practice. “Did you just stare at him or what?”

“I didn’t stare at him,” he replies defensively. “We just…like we talked about it but never really addressed it? It seems like we came to a conclusion but never really said it out loud. I know now that…I mean…he obviously feels something, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” Ricky rolls his eyes. “Everyone does. You attract everyone’s stares at this point with how lovey dovey you two are.”

But Gunwook feels his breath hitch. “We are not, ” he attempts to defend. “We haven’t even talked that often lately.”

“I’m talking about today. Retreat started…” Ricky checks his watch dramatically, “like four hours ago when we left and everyone in a one mile radius probably knows you guys have staked a claim on each other.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Gunwook mutters with hardened eyes. “We ju-just held hands.”

“Bro,” Ricky deadpans. “Eunseok hyung asked me when you two got together.”

Gunwook’s jaw drops. “What did you say?” 

“I said I ain’t a snitch and walked away,” Ricky chuckles. “He seemed pretty curious though,” he trails off. 

And… alarm bells!!!!

“He did?” Gunwook repeats for confirmation. 

Like he’d successfully caught Gunwook in a trap, Ricky smirks. “He did,” he bemuses. 

Realizing that he probably has ill intent, Gunwook pushes Ricky lightly by the shoulder. “Forget it,” he shakes his head. Ricky laughs loudly, entertained by Gunwook’s embarrassment. 

Sliding next to Ricky’s side, Gyuvin smiles. “What’d I miss?” 

“Nothing, just talking about Gunwook’s big, dumb crush,” Ricky shrugs, like he didn’t just send Gunwook’s cheeks flushing. 

Understanding the reference, Gyuvin beams. “Ohhh,” he winks exaggeratedly. “I see.”

Gunwook just rolls his eyes, over their teasing at this point. “Whatever,” he exhales. “Let’s just get our room assignments and go.” 

Once Gunwook finds out that he would be staying with Ricky, Gyuvin, and Taesan in one of the rooms of the airbnb, he finds himself both disappointed and relieved. He understands that keeping everyone with those of the same age might make the experience a lot more fun. 

But deep down, very deep down, Gunwook had this silly fantasy of maybe rooming with Matthew. It’s a fantasy for a reason. Because Gunwook doesn’t know how he'd even react. He had a near breakdown just from holding his hand. 

“Did you bring a sleeping bag?” Gyuvin nudges him with his elbow as they make it inside the house first, their bags in hand. “I heard there’s only two beds in each room.”

Gunwook nods, “Yeah,” he affirms. “I wasn’t sure if we would all fit so I brought it just in case one of the guys would rather sleep on the floor.”

Taesan joins them as they finally open the door to their room. “Jaehyun might join us,” he laughs. “He and Sungho are having a petty argument, but to be honest they’ll be fine in an hour.”

Ricky, already flopping onto one of the beds, groans at the thought. “Well, if he does, he’s floor-bound because I am not sleeping on these floorboards.”

Gunwook rolls his eyes, amused. “Don’t worry, hyung, your beauty sleep is safe,” he teases. “You and Gyuvin get the bed.”

At the confirmation, Gyuvin lights up, wrapping an arm around Ricky playfully. “That’s right! Roomie privileges.” His comment earns a simultaneous groan from both Gunwook and Taesan.

Having seen enough of the pair, Taesan, unzipping his bag, suggests, “Can we separate you two? Just for our sanity.”

“Nope,” Gyuvin smiles innocently as Ricky tries to hide his own. Gross. 

Gunwook hums. “Hey, before we hit the beach, everyone got their swim shorts, right?” He starts digging through his own bag, pulling out a pair of brightly colored trunks. Gunwook finds his tucked away beneath a towel, the fabric cool and still folded neatly from when he packed it.

“Yep,” Taesan holds up his own. “First day is gonna be so much fun. Apparently we are having the bonfire today instead of tomorrow.”

From their position on the bed, unmoving, Gyuvin shifts to hug Ricky closer. “Wait, then what are we doing tomorrow?”

Taesan shrugs. “Hanbin’s boyfriend said it’d be cool if we just chill on the beach and maybe go to some bar.”

“Bar?” Gyuvin furrows his eyebrows. “Didn’t one of the guys suggest we stay in and play uno?”

“Uno?” Ricky repeats incredulously. 

“What do you have against uno?” Gunwook scoffs but Ricky simply rolls his eyes in response. 

“I mean, we can do that, too,” Taesan nods. “Point of retreat is to relax and stuff.”

“Last year, we did everything but relax,” Gyuvin shudders, the memory too horrendous to mention. 

By the time the entire basketball team finally spills out onto the sunlit beach, the clock is inching past noon. The sky is a clear blue, and the sun beats down warmly, promising a perfect day for beach activities. The sound of waves crashing against the shore and seagulls calling in the distance completes the idyllic scene.

Gunwook, usually not one to fuss over a sunburn, finds himself thoroughly coated in sunscreen, thanks to Ricky's insistence. 

“It’s so nice today,” Gyuvin stretches, a dot of sunscreen left over on his nose. Ricky reaches over to rub it in. 

“It is,” Gunwook grins before gesturing towards their teammates laid on some of the towels. “I might lay down, too. I’ll join you guys in the water later.”

Gyuvin doesn’t wait for another word, pulling Ricky along to go join some of the guys splashing around in the waves. Thus, Gunwook walks down to meet his team, immediately noticing Matthew’s absence. What is also noticed though is Zhang Hao’s presence. 

“Hyung,” Gunwook groans as he sits down in one of the empty lounge chairs. He graciously takes a drink one of the hyungs hands him, soft music playing from a speaker Jaehyun had brought. 

Zhang Hao is already lounging nearby, his face shaded by a pair of stylish sunglasses. He lets out a long, exaggerated sigh. “It’s hot,” he declares, the tone of his voice belied by the hint of a smile playing at the edges of his lips. “This was a horrible idea.” But Gunwook knows he doesn’t truly mean it. 

“You should have joined Taerae hyung and gone to that fancy hotel,” Gunwook muses with a sip from his drink. 

“Ew,” Zhang Hao responds instantly, his face scrunching up in mock disgust. “Taerae and Jiwoong? Hell no.”

Gunwook silently agrees. “The sun will set soon enough. And then we can do that tradition thing?”

“Tradition? For the team?” Zhang Hao asks, genuinely curious now.

As if on cue, Jaehyun plops down into the seat next to Gunwook, slinging an arm around his shoulder comfortably. “Yep,” he sighs contentedly. “Every year before the season we have a bonfire and go around telling each other what we're looking forward to, who we're grateful for, and all that sappy stuff.”

“Oh,” Gunwook nods his head as he intakes the new information. 

“Did KU not have something like that?”

“Similar,” Gunwook hesitates. “More like hosting a rager and getting wasted. The sappiest stuff we did was a toast.” He notices Jaehyun's slow nod, the understanding in his eyes hinting at more than casual interest. “What?” Gunwook probes, sensing there’s something on Jaehyun’s mind.

“Nothing,” Jaehyun replies quickly, leaning back into his chair as a light breeze toys with his bangs. “Just… kind of makes sense for KU,” he adds, a hint of teasing in his tone that makes Gunwook roll his eyes but smile nonetheless.

It's then that they spot Hanbin making a beeline for Zhang Hao, his steps quick and purposeful. He is dripping from the sea water, hair tousled. With a determined grin, Hanbin reaches them, grabbing Zhang Hao’s hand and practically dragging him toward the sea. “Hao-ge! Come on!” He pleads with him with a pout. 

Gunwook knows that it’s usually Zhang Hao who weaponizes the deadly pout to get what he wants. But seeing this new development where Zhang Hao looks contemplative — swayed by Hanbin’s dirty trick — Gunwook blinks exaggeratedly. 

“Bin…” Zhang Hao starts, his voice trailing off into a sigh that seems more resigned acceptance than genuine protest. He’s already halfway won over by Hanbin’s antics.

Just as Gunwook is about to tease them, he feels a firm tug on his arm. He turns to find Matthew standing there with a playful glint in his eyes. “Gunwookie,” he tightens his hold on Gunwook’s wrist before he can run away. “Come to the water with us.”

Oh. So this is what they’re doing…

Caught slightly off guard but intrigued, Gunwook lets out a half-laugh, half-sigh. “Hyung,” he exhales. 

But Matthew is undeterred. “Come,” he tugs on Gunwook’s hand again. “Just for a bit?”

Hanbin joins in with a wide smile. “Yes, come!”

Zhang Hao shoots Gunwook a meaningful look, as if gauging whether Gunwook will give in. And Gunwook — as previously established — is a weak man. 

So Gunwook doesn’t physically protest when Matthew pulls him from the chair, hanging onto his forearm as he begins to lead him down to the water. Hanbin succeeds in doing just that with Zhang Hao, laughing at his boyfriend’s complaints. 

They reach the edge where the cool water meets the hot sand. Matthew lets go of Gunwook's wrist as they see Gyuvin splashing around enthusiastically with some of the other players. The water erupts around him in joyful chaos as he throws a handful of water at a nearby teammate, his laughter carrying over the sounds of the waves.

The sight pulls a smile from Gunwook, and without a moment’s hesitation, he scoops up a handful of seawater, launching it at Matthew with a playful flourish. The droplets catch the light as they fly through the air, splashing across Matthew's chest and eliciting a loud, joyful laugh. “Gunwookie!” Matthew calls out, his voice booming over the roar of the waves.

The sound of Matthew's laughter is infectious, and Gunwook can't help but release his own, a sound mingling with the rhythmic crash of the ocean. He tries to maintain a semblance of composure, attempting to stifle his smile, but it's no use. 

As Matthew gathers water in his own hands, preparing to retaliate, his eyes glint with anticipation. However, before he can enact his revenge, Gyuvin spots the two from afar. With a mischievous grin, he charges towards Gunwook, his approach silent but swift. 

Suddenly, Gunwook feels a strong pair of arms encircling him from behind in what is ostensibly a hug but feels more like a playful tackle, sending them both stumbling further into the welcoming embrace of the sea. 

“Come here,” Gyuvin muses with mischief. The suddenness of Gyuvin's assault sends a splash of water up around them, drawing laughter and shouts from their nearby teammates. 

Gunwook can't help but laugh, his balance wavering as he splashes back at Gyuvin, who dodges with exaggerated flair. The warmth of the sun on his skin and the cool touch of the water create a delightful contrast that makes the moment all the more exhilarating.

Matthew, seizing the opportunity, jumps into the fray with a sly grin, his hands scooping up water and sending it flying towards both of them. The splash hits its mark, and for a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of water and their collective laughter filling the air. They chase each other through the shallows, water flying in arcs around them, each splash a burst of light against the ocean’s surface. 

As the sun starts to dip lower, painting the sky with streaks of orange and purple, their energy begins to wane. Some of the guys have gone back to the sand, building a sandcastle or simply talking amongst each other. Zhang Hao is definitely back up there, sitting graciously on Hanbin’s lap as one of the guys animatedly reenacts a story. 

Gyuvin wraps his arms around both Matthew and Gunwook’s shoulders, pulling them in for a soggy, half-hearted group hug. “Have I told you how much I love you guys?” Gyuvin declares with a big, theatrical sigh, squeezing them both a little tighter.

Gunwook's eyebrow quirks up, and he gives Gyuvin a skeptical look. "Okay, what now?" he teases. 

“Can’t I just say I love my friends without reason?” Gyuvin protests, his tone light but his eyes earnest.

Matthew's response is softer, a warm chuckle escaping him as he nods in agreement. “I love you, too,” he says, and there's a simplicity and sincerity in his voice. 

They continue to walk back to the dry sand, the cool evening breeze picking up and causing them to shiver slightly in their damp clothes. The setting sun casts long shadows on the beach, painting the scene in hues of gold and amber. 

As they reach their towels and belongings by where the rest of their team is laughing and talking, they each grab a towel, wrapping it around themselves against the chill. Gyuvin immediately skips towards Ricky, who is talking with Eunseok. 

Matthew, still close by Gunwook's side, seems almost reluctant to increase the space between them. His presence is comforting, and his proximity doesn't go unnoticed by Gunwook, who can't help but admire how the chilly breeze has brought a rosy flush to Matthew's cheeks and nose. Gunwook's smile grows as he watches Matthew adjust his towel, trying to ward off the cold.

Ricky's earlier encouragement to show how he feels rings in his ears, giving him a gentle nudge toward openness. Spurred on by the sheer amount of affection walking up within him, Gunwook lets his guard down. 

“You look so cute like this,” he remarks, his voice soft but clear over the sound of the waves and the distant laughter of their friends.

Matthew's reaction is immediate; his eyes widen slightly, taken aback, but then a warm smile spreads across his face, reaching his eyes and softening his expression. 

“Thank you,” he says, shyer than Gunwook has ever heard him to be. He then quickly latches onto Gunwook’s arm. 

Gunwook feels the warmth of Matthew’s hand through the fabric of the towel, grounding and nerve wracking. It amazes him once more how little Matthew cares about doing this in public. Granted, public affection is nothing new to everyone that knows Matthew. But considering how some of the guys have grown suspicious of them, Gunwook would think Matthew would be more reigned in. 

Instead, Matthew seems unfazed, his actions around Gunwook as natural and unrestrained as ever. Gunwook understands that if he showed any sign of discomfort, Matthew would withdraw without question — he's considerate that way.

But the truth is, Gunwook doesn’t want that distance. Despite the flutter of anxiety, the warmth of Matthew's nearness feels right; it's a caring that Gunwook realizes he's longed to experience openly, without shadows to hide behind.

Their quiet moment is suddenly interrupted by Sungho's loud call for help. “Hey! Someone come help out with the fire. It isn’t starting!” The urgency in his voice cuts through the calm of the evening. Jaehyun, the subject of a playful smack from Sungho, throws his hands up in mock surrender, adding a dramatic flair to the situation. 

Matthew's hand retracts from Gunwook's arm as they both turn their attention toward the commotion. “Looks like we're needed,” Matthew says, a grin spreading across his face. 

Gunwook nods easily. They walk towards the bonfire pit, seeing some guys hunched over the nonexistent fire with frustration. 

Eventually, the fire finally crackles to life, casting a golden glow that bathes everyone's faces in warm light. Matthew and Gunwook step back, joining the circle that forms around the newfound blaze. The light flickers across Matthew's face, highlighting a satisfied smile as he watches the flames dance.

As they settle back into their spots, the group's mood lifts visibly with the fire's success. Hanbin passes around a bag of marshmallows, and the focus shifts to toasting them. 

Gunwook skewers a couple on a stick, holding them out to the flames. The marshmallows catch fire, and he blows them out with a quick puff of breath, his cheeks puffing out comically.

Matthew laughs, a genuine, hearty sound that makes Gunwook's heart flutter slightly. He watches as Matthew attempts his own marshmallow roasting, getting a little too close to the flames and hastily retreating, a mock grimace on his face. Gunwook chuckles, nudging Matthew with his elbow, “Careful, you’ll burn more than the marshmallows at that rate.”

Matthew shoots him a playful glare, then his expression softens as he adjusts his skewer, more cautiously this time. 

“Oh hell no!” one of the older guys exclaims. “I’m not drinking that.”

“It’s not that strong,” another retorts, trying to persuade him with a mischievous grin.

A shake of the head accompanies the skeptical reply. “I’ve heard that one before.”

Eunseok, ever the opportunist, laughs and reaches over to snag the cup being offered. “More for me then,” he declares, raising the cup in a half-toast before taking a generous sip.

As the laughter and playful arguments continue, the group slowly gathers around the newly revitalized fire. The warmth of the flames casts a soft glow on everyone’s faces, setting the perfect scene for a more reflective moment. 

Hanbin claps his hands, drawing the group's attention. “Everyone, I’m glad that we are all having fun today,” he smiles widely. “It’s now that time of the night where we shed some tears and spill our hearts.”

“Kill me now,” Ricky murmurs, unfortunately heard by everyone, earning him a few laughs. 

“Let’s make a toast first,” Taesan proposes with a raised eyebrow. Everyone agrees easily, taking their own cup of either water or a drink and raising it high in the air. “Captain, will you do the honors?”

Hanbin shifts in his lounge chair with a smile, lifting his own cup. “I want to start off by saying how grateful I am for each and every one of you,” Hanbin begins, his voice carrying clearly over the soft murmur of the ocean waves. “This semester has been a rollercoaster, but every moment, every challenge, we’ve faced it together as a team.”

Everyone’s cups are held aloft, their faces illuminated by the flickering firelight. Gunwook finds himself feeling the beginnings of tears sprang to his eyes. It takes him a bit by surprise but…hearing Hanbin speak this way while being surrounded by a team he joined not so long ago that welcomed him with open arms…it makes Gunwook more emotional than expected. 

“To the victories we’ve celebrated and the losses we’ve learned from,” Hanbin continues, his smile growing broader with each word. “To the laughter that filled our locker room and the tough talks that made us stronger. May we continue to grow, not just in our skills but in our bonds with one another.”

The team listens, a respectful silence falling over the group as Hanbin speaks. Even Ricky, who had muttered his earlier complaint, now holds his cup a little higher, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

“Here’s to more wins, more memories, and more moments like these, where we can come together and just be ourselves. Cheers to us, to our team, and to a winning season. Let’s show them what we got!” Hanbin finishes, his cup thrust higher into the air.

The team echoes enthusiastically, the sound mingling with the crackle of the fire as everyone clinks cups with those nearest. Matthew shoots Gunwook a gentle gaze as he clinks their cups together softly, 

“To your first year with us,” he whispers, with me . Gunwook feels a warmth spreading within him. 

Chapter Text

“What are you doing?” A voice interrupts Gunwook’s train of thought. 

Gunwook flinches at the sound, turning around from where he sits on the porch steps, looking out to the beach. He’s been out here for the past hour, a beer in his hand and his hair freshly washed. The breeze sweeps past his exposed arms, but it doesn’t bother him as much anymore. 

“Nothing,” Gunwook replies softly. With a bated breath, he watches as Matthew takes a step through the back door, closing it behind him and drowning out the noise coming from the inside. “Just wanted some air. It was getting stuffy.”

With a hop, Matthew settles down next to him, their sides flushed against each other. “Mind if I join you?” he asks, light as a feather but weighing Gunwook’s resolve down and down. 

“Yeah,” Gunwook hushes, turning back to the sea with a sip of his beer. He doesn’t have much to say, chest constricting on itself. 

“Do you want me to be quiet?” Matthew inquires, genuine, encouraging a confused expression from Gunwook. Gunwook didn’t quite expect to be asked such a question. 

“I don’t mind.” In fact, he prefers it if he wasn’t. He doesn’t care if Matthew were to be listing the ingredients on the back of a shampoo bottle with the most boring monotonic tone of all. Gunwook would still listen. 

Gunwook gingerly takes Matthew’s hand into his, his stomach doing a weird flip. He held hands with Matthew for the better part of an hour earlier. He doesn’t quite know why it still affects him this way. Matthew purses his lips, as if observing Gunwook closely. 

Without a response to that, Matthew places his head on Gunwook’s shoulder, humming in acknowledgment as he gazes out into the calm waves of the sea. “It’s so nice out tonight,” he comments. “I’m glad we came all the way out here.”

“It's been a lot of fun,” Gunwook replies, meaning every word. A smile tugs at his lips. “I like hanging out with everyone like this. The bonfire was…it was nice.”

“Given you and Hanbin hyung cried talking about what you liked so far about the year, I would hope so,” Matthew teases, rubbing his forehead against the shoulder sleeve of Gunwook’s shirt. 

“Stop,” Gunwook chuckles nervously. His eyes still feel swollen. “I cry easily, okay?”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Matthew comforts. “It’s adorable, actually.”

Mortified, Gunwook squeezes his eyes shut momentarily, wishing there was a way to hide the blush of his cheeks. “Ah, hyung.”

But Matthew only smiles warmly. “But I’ve had fun, too,” he affirms. “I love our team this year,” squeezing Gunwook’s hand. “And I feel like we will be doing so much better this season. We have what it takes to win championships. Especially against the other schools. And…I don’t know. Just the energy we all have with each other. There’s none of the drama from last year. It’s…refreshing.”

Attention piqued, Gunwook elicits a noise of confusion, furrowing his eyebrows. “Drama?” He questions lightly. 

In confirmation, Matthew nods. “Yep,” he exhales heavily. “Poor Hyunjin hyung, our captain last year. He had gone through hell and back trying to sort all that out.”

“What happened?” Gunwook pushes on. 

“One of the guys had a… uhm… he had a disagreement with one of the other guys,” Matthew clears his throat. “Over this person they both liked.”

“Oh ...that type of fight,” Gunwook’s face wrinkles in a grimace. Kind of immature. 

“Yep,” Matthew presses his lips together, eyes darting nervously between Gunwook and the sea. “It was a lot for everyone. Kind of put a lot of tension between us since they made it seem like they wanted everyone to pick sides.”

“Really? Were they seniors?”

Matthew shakes his head, pulling back to look up at Gunwook more clearly. “No. Don’t tell anyone I told you this but,” he replies. “Uhm, it was Eunseok hyung and Sungchan hyung.” 

“Oh,” Gunwook responds. He never expected those two to act in that way. Maybe he can see them fighting and being a bit frustrated with each other, but making the team choose sides? “But they’re like…best friends now.”

“Yep,” Matthew laughs, but it falls flat. “Yeah, once the person rejected both of them and Hyunjin hyung settled everything, they apologized and got close again. So no harm done really.”

“Who did they like?” Gunwook takes a sip from his nearly abandoned beer, curiosity coating his light question. He will have to tell this story to Zhang Hao and Taerae later, so he needs all the details he can get. 

“Uhm…” Matthew tightens his hold on Gunwook’s hand. A couple seconds pass as Gunwook waits for Matthew to continue, finding his pause a bit strange. 

“Do I not know them?” Gunwook proposes, willing to back off. This makes Matthew’s jaw tense, looking more anxious than before. Concerned now, Gunwook sets his beer to the side and turns slightly to look at him. “Hyung?” he asks with genuine concern. 

“Uhm, it w-was, it was me,” Matthew reveals anxiously, as if he’s waiting for Gunwook to react dramatically. He scoots a bit closer to Gunwook, like he doesn’t want him to rashly pull away. 

And…wow. That’s… quite a revelation. 

“Oh,” Gunwook murmurs under his breath, more astonished than anything. Everyone has had a crush on Matthew. 

And that… doesn’t quite sit well with him. But it isn’t Matthew's fault. Nor his responsibility. So there’s no point in showing how uncomfortable it makes him feel to even think about one of the hyungs liking Matthew like this. 

“Ah, sorry,” Matthew winces, truly apologetic. 

Startled, Gunwook shakes his head. “No, no,” he attempts to reassure. “No, uh, I didn’t mean it like that. Just that…I’m a little surprised. I didn’t uh think they would…you know. Especially, since…uhm, especially since they don’t act in any certain way with you now. So, just. Yeah.”

Embarrassing. Get it together, Gunwook. 

“Yeah, uhm. After that, we kind of just went back to being friends. Everyone did. And we all just really forgot about it,” Matthew explains, voice uncharacteristically tense. “I promise. Nothing is happening now.”

Gunwook pauses, the honesty, the desperation for Gunwook to believe him, catching him off guard. “Hyung, it’s okay,” he pulls their intertwined hands into his lap, enveloping Matthew’s smaller hand with both of his own. “I wasn’t going to say anything… it’s not like uhm….” It’s not as if we are together like that . 

But Gunwook bites his tongue. He can’t find the will to speak the words as he wills. 

Matthew seems to fill in the blanks. His facial expression falls even further. “I know,” he whispers, as if pains him. And it pains Gunwook too; it feels like the knife dislodged in his heart is being twisted and turned, rubbing against his ribs and lungs, lingering and allowing the bitter blood of his love spread through his body. 

However, Gunwook may be a little insecure. He may be a little anxious all the time. But he thinks he knows what the miserable expression Matthew tries to hide means. 

“Hyung,” he rushes, the word imploring. He has many confessions he wants to say. He has many questions he wants to ask. He has so many insecurities he wishes he could dispel from his mind. He wishes he can fully believe that Matthew wants more than this. But it feels like this one word carries that desperation heavily. And maybe that’s enough. 

Matthew hums. “Yeah?”

Gunwook doesn’t say anything else. He simply reaches out to grasp Matthew’s chin, directing him to face upwards, their noses grazing upon each other. Gunwook can see every eyelash of his from here. He can see his pupils, his eyes widened. He can feel Matthew’s breath fan against his mouth. 

Feeling braver by the second, his hand finds its place on Matthew’s thigh as he pulls him closer, close enough that he can hear Matthew breath hitch slightly. And Gunwook…he’s mesmerized.

He feels himself getting lost in his eyes, as corny as it may sound. Gunwook never really liked that phrase, thought it was cringe. But now, he feels it wholeheartedly. Because he thinks he can sit here, have Matthew in his arms, and find the answers to the universe in Matthew’s eyes. 

Matthew takes the initiative, moving in closer to connect their waiting lips. The kiss is short, but it's so soft that Gunwook melts from it. They pull away slightly, never leaving each other’s space. It’s silent except for their breaths and the soft sounds of the waves. 

Gunwook smiles before diving in again, allowing the warmth to consume him completely. It feels so right — the way their lips touch and savor each other. Matthew’s hand moves to Gunwook’s shoulder, kneading the skin there, pulling him closer and closer . 

Feeling a hot deep pool of want settle in his stomach, Gunwook slides his other hand around Matthew’s waist, right where it belongs. And Matthew moans quietly when Gunwook licks along his lip, tentative and cautious. But Matthew doesn’t allow him to hesitate, sliding his tongue into Gunwook’s mouth, sliding his hand into Gunwook’s hair, like he wants to ground himself in the moment. 

Gunwook gasps softly, the action more than needed . And this feeling…the one settling in his chest is growing so intense that Gunwook finds himself worrying a bit. 

He’s never felt something so grand…so right . He’s never felt this safe, this wanted . It brings tears to form at the corner of his eyes, but he holds them back. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?

Love. 

Because what is love?

Gunwook once thought love was just not for him. It would never be. He didn’t know what it meant. 

But now…as he kisses Matthew with an increasing fervor, the concept starts to make a lot more sense. It’s scary — the thought that that is what this can develop into. However, Gunwook wants to learn more about Matthew, to see him in every light possible, the good and the bad. He wants all of it. 

There’s so much more to Matthew that Gunwook needs. And that’s the thing. More. More. More. Does Gunwook deserve that? How could he ask for it when Matthew has given his all? So willingly. 

Gunwook forgets in this moment that they’re outside, in the open, where any of their teammates can come out the back door and see them enthralled with each other, unable to separate even for just a second. Yet, Gunwook doesn’t care now, every reservation slowly melting away in favor of having this. He scoots closer, if possible. 

Their mouths move with a burning desperation, desire encouraging the flame to grow and grow. The kiss becomes slightly more sloppy, but it teeters between the gentleness it started with and the passion swelling within them. Matthew unceremoniously explores Gunwook’s mouth with a pleased hum. Gunwook feels weak, the feeling starting a butterfly effect of fluttering in his stomach. 

With a click, Matthew pulls back, smiling when Gunwook tries to go in again. “Eager, huh?” he teases, out of reach. Surprising himself, Gunwook elicits a soft whine. 

So Gunwook goes for the best next thing, nosing along Matthew’s jaw, even as his lungs burn from the lack of air. And Matthew lets him, wrapping his arms around Gunwook’s neck, inviting him in. Gunwook gives kisses on every part of skin he can, tasting and sucking along his neck, hoping Matthew can feel everything threatening to burst from his chest. 

Matthew once again slides a hand through the hair on the back of Gunwook’s head, lightly pulling Gunwook away, halting his attack. His hunger unsatisfied, Gunwook’s red bruised lips curl in a small frown, observing Matthew’s excited eyes. “Gunwook,” Matthew pants his name, voice hushed among the sound of the waves. 

Gunwook pecks Matthew’s lips softly, “Yeah?”

Seeming a bit distracted from the kiss, Matthew stutters, “Just…” he inhales sharply when Gunwook delivers another one. “I’m just… I’m glad you’re here..that uhm…that you transferred to SNU. And that you joined us.”

Eyes dancing along Matthew’s features, Gunwook concludes that Matthew means it with his entire being. His heart pounds and pounds, the back of his neck where Matthew caresses the skin flushing hot. “I’m glad I met you,” Gunwook blurts. Even he himself didn’t expect to say such words, but the moment they leave his mouth, he feels instantly better. It’s like a secret he’s carried for too long. “I’m glad I came here. I’m glad you approached me that first day.”

Looking endeared, Matthew grins with his swollen lips, his tousled hair. “I’m glad, too,” he whispers. 

But they still don’t talk about the implications…about what all of this may mean. Maybe they both aren’t ready. Maybe it’s scary for them both. Matthew just dives in again, their mouths connecting, sighing when Gunwook’s hand travels to Matthew’s upper thigh, tentative and hesitant. 

“Hey—oh! Uhm,” someone opens the door, the noise from inside instantly startling them. 

Seeing Hanbin there with a weak smile — one foot outside, ready to approach them — Gunwook has the instinct to pull away, to make what has transpired as inconspicuous as possible. 

But Matthew doesn’t allow that. In retaliation to Gunwook’s instant reaction, he tightens his hold on the back of Gunwook’s neck, bringing him closer again. Addressing their captain, Matthew grins. “What’s up, hyung?” 

So nonchalant. Without a care in the world. He isn’t ashamed to be seen with Gunwook like this, and that just confirms that Hanbin must know about everything that’s happened between them if Matthew is this comfortable with his roommate seeing them like this. 

“Sorry,” Hanbin says, frail, but he continues nonetheless, “Hao hyung wanted to ask if you guys want to join everyone and go to this bar they found.”

Matthew hums, contemplative. He addresses Gunwook, “What do you think?” 

Gunwook stutters pathetically, “Whatever you want, hyung.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Half an hour?” Hanbin replies, unsure. “They’re getting ready right now. If you take longer we can definitely meet you there?”

Matthew shakes his head, his fingers tracing patterns along the skin of Gunwook’s neck. “I can get ready quickly,” he explains. “Tell hyung we will go, just give us a minute.”

With a soft smile, Hanbin nods, retreating back to the safety inside, away from the blushing Gunwook and smug Matthew. 

“Don’t force yourself if you don’t want to,” Matthew chides, perhaps interpreting Gunwook’s tension for hesitance. “I can stay with you.”

“No, I’ll go. I don’t want to miss it,” Gunwook affirms. “It’ll be fun.”

Humming in acknowledgment, Matthew doesn’t question him further. As if signaling a goodbye, Matthew leans in to deliver a kiss, slow and fleeting, that it’s gone before Gunwook can savor it. “Then let’s go,” Matthew taps their foreheads together fondly. 

Gunwook doesn’t hang out with Matthew after that. He’s swept away by Gyuvin and Ricky before he can even think about approaching Matthew. He’s a bit disappointed but the relief he finds is only because he is still mortified that Hanbin had seen the pair practically making out. 

However, Hanbin doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t regard Gunwook with any awkwardness or judgment. If anything, he talks to Gunwook fondly (even before the alcohol takes its toll on the captain). So Gunwook feels more relaxed after that. 

The night goes quite smoothly. The team ventures to the bar by the beach they found, smiling and laughing as they look out to the view, drinking overpriced drinks. They make bets on whether one of the guys can get a girl or guy’s number. And Eunseok manages to get more correct guesses than Matthew, starting a playful fight between them. 

Zhang Hao makes his input every now and then, whispering comments to Gunwook’s ear. The roommates watch as Jaehyun hugs Hanbin tight, everyone laughing as they see how red their captain becomes because of the attention.  

Gunwook takes careful sips of his drink, savoring his sobriety before they all travel back to the place they’re staying at and drinking more. 

“How’s it going with…” Zhang Hao discreetly gestures to Matthew, who is being fawned over by the hyungs. 

Gunwook bites his lip. Everyone knows by now anyways — according to Ricky. “Okay,” he answers vaguely. 

Unimpressed, Zhang Hao flicks his forehead. “I’m going to need more than that.”

Gunwook sighs, defeated. “Right now, it’s like… like we know what we are doing but haven’t really talked about it yet.”

“What do you mean?” Zhang Hao hushes, confused. 

“I know he has got to like me, at least a bit,” Gunwook clears his throat. “It’s just we haven’t really talked about what it all means. And what we want.”

“Have you guys kissed?” Zhang Hao delivers the question quietly, mindful of the eavesdropping menaces that are Gyuvin and Ricky beside them. He asks with carefulness, devoid of any teasing Gunwook had honestly expected. 

“Yes,” he replies. “Hanbin hyung caught us earlier.” Zhang Hao presses his lips together, as if trying to hold back a squeal. “Hyung, don’t,” Gunwook pleads, even though seeing Zhang Hao excited like this warms his heart. 

“Oh my god,” Zhang Hao places a hand to his mouth, the words mumbled. “My sweet Gunwook.” Gunwook rolls his eyes at his giddy tone. “This is so exciting. You bagged everyone’s number one crush. That’s so sweet,” he whispers, not as quiet as before though. 

It calls the attention of a confused Gyuvin who looks over with a raised eyebrow. “What are you guys gossiping about without me?”

“Nothing,” Zhang Hao sing-songs with a smirk. “Actually… you know what. I’ve heard rumors about you and a certain someone. How about you tell me how you and Ricky got together?” 

At the mention of his boyfriend, Gyuvin is successfully distracted, sliding his hand into the hand of a tipsy Ricky. “Okay, so—“ he starts with a beaming smile. 

Having heard the story a million times before, Gunwook checks out of the conversation immediately. 

The rest of the retreat passes quite quickly. Gunwook is either drunk or taking care of someone else, he and Ricky have had enough drunk deep talks to last a lifetime, and Gunwook now has more blackmail threats (due to the sheer amount of videos everyone took of him dancing in the middle of the house) than anyone. 

And by the time they all manage to get back to campus, the beginning of the school semester creeps up on them. 

Gunwook has his family visit, showing them around the school, introducing them to places he wholeheartedly believes is more aesthetically pleasing than at KU. His brother denies and rejects that opinion though. They agree to disagree in the end. 

maechu hyung 🤍

r u ignoring md now 😭

I said sorry!!! 🥺🥺🥺

Gunwook stifles a chuckle, stepping aside to lean against the wall. The hallway is bustling with students trying to find where their classes are, laughing and discussing amongst each other. Gunwook taps the screen with excitement. 

Me

I’m not

I promise

maechu hyung 🤍

That doesn’t sound convincing 😔

gunwookie 🥺🥺🥺 pls

I’ll make it up to you😢

I RLLY DIDNT mean to spoil the ending😰😰😰😰

i was just excited !!! 😖😖

I haven’t seen u since retreat and i wanted to talk to u about it

honest!!!!🥺🥺🥺

Me

i mean

u did sound passionate about it

maybe i can forgive you 

maechu hyung 🤍

“maybe”???

what do i have to do 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Matthew loves the 🥺 emoji, Gunwook concludes. It’s adorable. 

Biting his lip, Gunwook decides maybe he can play difficult. 

Me

hmmm

maechu hyung 🤍

what if we have another anime night?😜

how does that sound?😣😣😣😣

Me

how is that making it up to me

maechu hyung 🤍

don’t tell me u don’t miss me

bc i miss u..

it’s been so long without my gunwookie 

The softness in Matthew’s words, even conveyed through a screen, warms Gunwook from the inside out.

Me

hyung what the|

hyu|

…

With a fit of courage, Gunwook finishes typing what he has been meaning to say. 

Me

i miss u too

Ofc i do

It’s been so long without u~~~

Gunwook quickly locks his phone and slips it into his pocket, biting his lip. A small dumb message has him acting all shy. It has been around a week since they last saw each other — arriving on campus after retreat. Matthew had held his hand most of the time, but they didn’t kiss again after Hanbin had caught them. 

And since then, Gunwook has been deprived of his hyung. He would be lying if he said his entire being doesn’t yearn for him. Yearn might be too strong of a word, but it feels just right. 

He’s held himself back, trying to give himself space while not ignoring Matthew like he did last time. And Matthew has taken the liberty to send messages throughout the day. Gunwook reads them over and over, each word pulling at something deep inside him. The sweet ones make him smile, lighting up his day, but it’s the suggestive ones that leave him pondering in the quiet of the night. 

Gunwook can’t decide which one is worse. 

“There you are!” Gyuvin skips towards him, nearly bumping into someone. “Did you find the room yet?”

Grateful for the distraction, Gunwook pushes himself off the wall with a smile. “No,” he says. “But I think it’s that way,” he points down the long hallway. 

Gyuvin nods and motions with his head. “Let’s go then,” he begins to lead them through the throng of people. “Heard it gets packed so let’s hurry.”

However, Gunwook’s eyebrows furrow. “Where’s Ricky hyung?” he asks carefully. The man was supposed to join them — even though he doesn’t take this class. They had plans to eat lunch together after. 

Gyuvin’s back tenses, but he continues walking without looking at Gunwook once. “He’s busy,” he clears his throat. Suspicious. 

Deciding not to push, Gunwook hums. “Okay,” he trails off. He will corner him later. 

Class ends far too late for Gunwook’s liking — syllabus day is always the worst. He and Gyuvin have lunch together, Ricky nowhere to be found. Gyuvin once again doesn’t elaborate on his absence, only saying they had a disagreement and that was that. Gunwook doesn’t ask for more details, if he needed help, Gyuvin knows how to ask for it. 

But it doesn’t stop him from worrying. Gyuvin and Ricky have had a long journey together now. They love each other. That’s a given. So all Gunwook hopes for is that they figure their stuff out quickly — just so Gyuvin can stop poking at his food with sad puppy dog eyes. 

“Hey,” Gunwook clears his throat, nervous for some reason. He shifts in his seat, words barely carrying through the loud noises of the cafe around them. 

Gyuvin stops his mindless poking at his croissant, looking up with sad eyes. “What?”

Here goes nothing. “I have something to tell you,” Gunwook spits out, fiddling with the end of the scarf he is wearing. He waits for Gyuvin to process the words, and he knows Gyuvin is officially distracted from his dilemma when his eyes widen in suspense. “I haven’t updated you much but…”

“What?” Gyuvin presses, seeming impatient. He moves aside his croissant, disregarding it completely. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah,” Gunwook exhales heavily. “It’s about uhm, Matthew.”

Gyuvin deflates, “Not surprised,” he mumbles. 

Gunwook decides to ignore that and continues, “Lately, we have kind of been like… together but not together? You know… and I just am very confused right now.”

“Together but not together?” Gyuvin repeats slowly. “Doing stuff but not dating?”

“We haven’t done that stuff ,” Gunwook scoffs, nerves forgotten and replaced with embarrassment. “Just… kissed here and there. And like uhm… he might have insinuated for us to do more? I don’t know.”

And just like Zhang Hao, Gyuvin tries to hide his smile. His interest is palpable, almost enough to make Gunwook regret bringing it up in such a public setting. But it's too late now; he's plunged into the depths of this conversation and there's no swimming back to the surface without spilling everything. 

“Oh my god,” he murmurs, excitement poorly concealed. “What did he say? Tell me everything,” leaning onto the table. 

“Nothing, just, he wants me to stay over and he hadn’t explicitly said anything but… that’s gotta mean something right?” Gunwook pants. 

Gunwook remembers the moment he read Matthew’s text and felt like his heart stopped from the shock. It was a few silly words: “how about you stay over and I can show u?” in reference to a scene Gunwook had mentioned. A scene from a romcom . 

With quick fingers, Gunwook changed the subject, panicking in his own right and Matthew didn’t bring it up after. It didn’t stop Matthew from making small comments here and there though. 

“Stay over?” Gyuvin intones. “He definitely likes you.”

“Stop that,” Gunwook blushes. 

“I’m being serious,” Gyuvin stresses, playfulness gone. “We haven’t heard of hyung being with anyone like this. He usually brushes people off. He isn’t one to play around.”

“He… rejects people often?” That must mean he gets confessed to often. 

“Yep,” Gyuvin confirms before smiling. “That just makes this so much cuter. Awwww. He’s so down bad for you. He’s all over you, too. Not surprised you two have been sucking face for a while.”

“Don’t say that again,” Gunwook deadpans. 

“Look, it's okay to be scared. But from what you're telling me, Matthew is trying to take things to the next level because he cares about you. And those little comments? He's just trying to see how you react, probably scared of pushing too hard.”

Gunwook nods slowly, absorbing Gyuvin's words. “I just… Moving from just... whatever we were, to something more. It’s terrifying to me.”

Gyuvin observes him carefully. “Then what are you going to do now? Are you going to talk to him?”

“That’s what Ricky hyung keeps saying,” Gunwook groans. “I just… don’t know how to do it. I’ve never had to take initiative like this.”

“Really?” Gyuvin trails off. “I would’ve thought you were someone who just went for it.”

Now it’s Gunwook’s turn to be confused. “Really?” He parrots. “What gave you that idea?”

“I don’t know, you’re usually very mindful. I know you had a rough start, and you shied away from us in the beginning, but once you open up, you open up. I don’t think you have much to worry about.”

Gunwook hums in thought. It has been a lot easier to talk to his friends now. He doesn’t feel that incessant clawing at his chest when he would want to spill everything that happened to him in the past. Even talking with Matthew about it had been easy. “Right,” he mumbles. 

He really has changed since the start of the year. 

“You’ve changed for the better. You’ve been so kind to everyone, even after everything you’ve been through,” Gyuvin comments, as if he read his mind. “Which is why I think Matthew hyung likes you so much. Matthew sees something special in you, Gunwook. Something he's genuinely interested in.”

“Really?” Gunwook lets out quietly, half in disbelief, half in wonder.

Gyuvin purses his lips before leaning in with a hushed whisper. “Don’t tell anyone I told you this but… hyung had said once that he wants to get closer to you, and like, get to know you better under that shell you hide in,” he reveals. “And he meant it in a good way, I promise.”

“I guess… we have gotten closer.”

“Close enough to be sucking each other's face.”

“Why do you have to say it like that?” Gunwook groans, pinching the bridge of his nose exasperatedly. 

Gyuvin chuckles. “What I mean is that you guys are doing well,” he explains. “I feel like you two will be just fine. You’ll be better off the faster you talk to him about everything, though. Learn from Ricky and I.”

“Oh, I know,” Gunwook rolls his eyes, referencing his hyung’s long relationship story. 

“Then…What do you think?” Gyuvin nudges him, breaking into his thoughts.

Gunwook hums. If he can find the courage to. 

“Yeah, maybe.”

Gunwook stands outside the door, his nerves causing him to rub his hands together anxiously. He knocks and then waits, each second stretching longer than the last, his heart thumping in his chest. Just as he's about to knock again, wondering if perhaps Matthew hadn't heard him, the door suddenly swings open.

Matthew stands there, slightly breathless and looking a bit flustered. His hair is tousled as if he’d rushed to answer the door, and there’s a hint of surprise in his eyes as they focus on Gunwook. 

“Hey, you made it!” Matthew exclaims, his face lighting up with a broad smile as he steps aside to let Gunwook in. The relief in Matthew's voice is grand, mingling with an excitement that seems to fill the small entryway.

Gunwook steps inside, his nerves tingling as he enters the warmly lit apartment. “Sorry I’m late,” he clears his throat, addressing his hyung who follows after him. “Got caught up.”

Matthew shakes his head, “it’s okay,” he smiles. He closes the door behind them with a click and watches as Gunwook slips his shoes off. “I’m just happy you’re here.”

The words do wonders to Gunwook’s heart, hiding a giddy smile that will most definitely mess up his image. But, Gunwook can’t help but feel a rush of warmth flood through him, and despite his attempts to maintain a composed exterior, a smile breaks free. 

Look, Gunwook’s trying his best to swoon him, okay? He needs to be mysterious and cool. 

Matthew watches him with a gentle smile, clearly noticing Gunwook's struggle to play it off. “Come on, let’s get comfortable,” he suggests, leading the way into the living room.

As they make their way to the middle of the apartment — where Gunwook notices blankets laid out on the couch and the tv on — “No Hanbin hyung?” Gunwook asks weakly, expectantly.

“Nope,” Matthew chirps, as if entertained. “Why? Did you want him to be here?” He raises an eyebrow as a tease. 

With a weak scoff, Gunwook tries to control himself. “No,” he admits with a pout, allowing Matthew to sit him down on the couch by the arm. “Of course I want to be with you here,” he says. “Just want to make sure we won’t get interrupted this time.”

The words are out before Gunwook can realize what it might sound like and he doesn’t get it until he sees Matthew’s flushed ears and small smile. And his first instinct is to run away, to deny and reject the idea entirely. But he remembers… he can play this game, too. He can make his own advances, too — make moves in this push and pull he finds himself in with Matthew.

So he doesn’t deny it. He lets the implication settle around them. As the moment drags on, Matthew's cheeks tint slightly pink, his usual composure slipping. “You came here with a motive, then,” he hushes, voice lower than usual. 

“Well… I did hear someone is supposed to be making it up to me,” Gunwook scoots closer to Matthew on the couch. Matthew meets his stare, a quiet acknowledgment passing through his expression before he smiles, a soft, knowing curve of his lips.

“I will,” Matthew replies with a teasing smile. “Be patient.” He doesn’t say anything else, turning to set up the tv for the episode Matthew had spoiled earlier. Gunwook presses his lips together, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He isn’t used to this.

As Matthew drapes the blanket over them, he doesn’t hesitate to sit right against Gunwook’s side, setting his head on his shoulder. Maybe it’s the way Matthew isn’t afraid to show his affections like this, or maybe it’s just anytime Matthew is in the proximity, the fluttering in his chest, a wild, delightful sensation, returns with renewed vigor, a reminder of the deepening affection he’d acknowledged during their retreat. But he ignores it now, there are better things to focus on — like the episode that just started.

Gunwook takes a deep breath, trying to steady the rapid beat of his heart. He lets himself relax, one arm coming to rest around Matthew’s shoulders, a protective yet affectionate gesture that Matthew seems to welcome, snuggling closer in response.

And… don’t ask Gunwook anything about what happened in this episode. Throughout it all, his mind is filled with a vivid awareness of Matthew's every movement, each one sending ripples of contentment through his already overwhelmed senses.

For Gunwook, the real story is right here, in the quiet sharing of space and warmth, in the unspoken words hanging in the air between them. 

It’s a story he finds himself wanting to dive into, with all its potential for joy and the unknown, far more intriguing than any scripted show unfolding on the screen. His mind replays every moment leading up to now, each memory tinged with the growing realization of how much Matthew means to him.

By the time the credits roll on the episode, they’ve shifted closer, an unspoken mutual decision that has their sides pressed gently together. Matthew’s head tilts slightly, resting against Gunwook’s shoulder in a moment of comfortable silence. 

“Didn’t expect that ending,” Gunwook says, knowing full well that Matthew had told him about it already. 

Matthew seems to find this funny, his laughter vibrating softly against Gunwook's side, a warm, comforting sound that fills the space between them with an easy comfort. “You weren't paying attention, were you?”  Matthew teases, lifting his head to look up at Gunwook with a knowing smile.

Gunwook can't help but return the smile, a touch of sheepishness in his expression. “Maybe not as much as I should have,” he admits, his gaze meeting Matthew's with a playful glint. “But in my defense, I had better things to focus on.”

Matthew's eyebrows raise in amusement, his lips curving into a wider grin at Gunwook's words. “Oh, really? Better things, huh?” he asks, his tone light and teasing. The proximity of their faces, the shared warmth under the blanket, and the dim lighting from the TV screen combine to send Gunwook’s cheeks blushing.

“Yeah, really,” Gunwook affirms, his voice lower now, more serious than previously. He shifts slightly, turning to face Matthew more directly.

Even as they get closer, Matthew doesn't pull away; instead, he settles more comfortably against Gunwook, “Me too,” Matthew finally responds, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Unable to hold himself back, Gunwook pushes forward to connect their lips gently. Matthew’s hand sliding up to caress the back of Gunwook’s head. Matthew elicits a sigh, like it’s of relief. Here, Gunwook can feel Matthew’s soft lips against his, carefully moving against them. 

Gunwook never thought kissing could feel this good, having someone’s mouth invading his. But maybe it’s different when you actually like the person you’re kissing. Gunwook thinks he can kiss Matthew for hours and never get bored. 

As the seconds pass, there’s a certain type of want that grows between them. When Gunwook’s hand comes to touch along Matthew’s back, moving his hyung’s leg into his own lap, Matthew’s jaw slacks with a whine, enough for Gunwook to lick into his mouth. It’s so easy this way, exploring each other, getting lost into this feeling of bliss. 

Gunwook’s palm rubs against Matthew’s outer thigh, gripping as he tries to ground himself. Matthew eventually takes the hint, mouth never stopping its ministrations along Gunwook’s lips as he shifts so he straddles Gunwook. And oh. This position is so much worse. 

Gunwook can feel Matthew’s thighs so well against his own, the warmth radiating from his skin igniting a fire in Gunwook’s lower body. He can feel himself harden in the sweatpants he decided to wear and he hopes out of embarrassment that Matthew doesn’t notice. 

But when Matthew fully settles in his lap, Gunwook knows it’s impossible to hide, especially when Matthew’s breath hitches at the feeling. Frozen, Matthew immediately pulls away, lips swollen, panting. His eyes are half-lidded, lost as he looks over Gunwook. 

Running his fingers through the hair in the back of Gunwook’s head, Matthew gulps. It’s then when Gunwook notices Matthew’s cock in his shorts begins to follow suit. 

That’s enough for Gunwook, pulling Matthew back into his hold, their bodies flushed together as their mouths are quickened now. Matthew ventures into Gunwook’s mouth feverishly, gasping when Gunwook’s tongue moves along his. 

Experimentally, Matthew rolls his hips against Gunwook’s. It’s careful, slow, but it’s enough to elicit a groan from Gunwook, uncontrolled and undeniable. No words are said, Gunwook’s hands wandering all over Matthew’s body hopefully enough to show how needy Gunwook is becoming now. 

Like before, he is afraid of how easily he loses himself, spacing out as Matthew invades all his senses. 

But then Matthew rolls his hips again, their clothed cocks making contact and Gunwook forgets everything. Because it feels so good . Gunwook whines again, frustrated when he feels Matthew’s lips curl up in a smirk. He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know how excited he must be to see Gunwook like this. Because he’s weak under him. 

Continuing his movements, Matthew thrusts his lower body forward again, mouth loosening its control over Gunwook’s. “ Ah,” he lets out, exhaling. Gunwook grips Matthew’s hips, tightening his hold. Wanting to just see him, Gunwook pulls back slightly, gauging how Matthew’s eyebrows are pulled together, as if concentrating to find the right pace. 

He still moves with control, angling his hips with precision, rubbing against Gunwook’s cock deliciously. Gunwook hungrily trails along Matthew’s neck, his hyung giving him more access to explore. “ Oh— ah,” Gunwook lets out when Matthew circles against him, Matthew squeezing his shoulders. 

Matthew pants, continuing to thrust forward. That’s when Gunwook helps him out more, using his hold on his waist to push him harder against him. It’s a move that causes both of them to let out a sharp exhale. Gunwook sucks at a particular spot on Matthew’s jaw, relishing in the way Matthew’s hands run along his back, hair, and the nape of his neck. 

“Fuck,” Gunwook mumbles, absorbing the pleasure every time their cocks collide and rub, a tease that makes Gunwook anxious. It’s the first time Gunwook has done something like this on his own accord, making the jump to do something with someone he likes so much . 

Gunwook worries whether he’s doing a good job, kissing Matthew with want, encouraging Matthew’s movements with desperation, chasing that release with each pant and whining that comes from both their mouths. Matthew grips the bottom hem of Gunwook’s shirt, hand venturing underneath it, fingertips trailing along Gunwook’s side. 

“Baby,” Matthew calls him, voice husky and shaky. Even just the word sends shivers down Gunwook’s spine. Matthew gives the word a whole new meaning, a new memory that Gunwook is writing over in their own story, at their own pace. “Fuck— you’re so good, ah,” he groans at a particularly hard thrust, Gunwook gripping Matthew’s waist without hesitance. They rut against each other, Matthew lost in the feeling. 

Gunwook hums, kissing up Matthew’s neck, ending up at his mouth, deepening the kiss until their teeth clash, minds focused on how their cocks glide against each other, the stain of their precum now visible.

That’s when Matthew takes it further, gliding the globes of his ass against Gunwook’s cock, the feeling that has Gunwook inhale sharply. His cock fits perfectly between them, “Baby,” Matthew leans forward to whisper into his ear. “Is this okay?”

Gunwook swallows, vision hazy as he sinks further back into the couch. Matthew is going to kill him if he keeps going like this. “Oh, hyung,” he lets out an embarrassing whimper, his cock aching and pleading. He ruts his hips up, trying to get more of that contact. “Yes.”

Before Matthew continues, he gives Gunwook’s ear a kiss. “Further?”

“I— ah ,” Gunwook breathes, anxiety clouding the words. He worries Matthew will be a bit annoyed if he caps it here. Matthew had insinuated something more, didn’t he? Wouldn’t more be something Matthew expects? “L-Like this.”

But Matthew surprises him again when he simply continues his movements, humping against him with new fervor — like a man on a mission. “So good,” he moans, breaths shaky and short. “You’re so good, oh ,” his head hangs low to meet Gunwook’s shoulder. 

The fire in Gunwook’s belly continues to burn and burn, consuming him completely as his eyes roll back on one particular thrust. The pleasure spreads throughout his body, Matthew moving with precision. 

“My sweet baby,” Matthew mumbles against Gunwook’s shoulder, stuffing his face into his neck, mouthing at the skin there. His spit paints Gunwook’s throat, a product of how Matthew sucks and bites with no mercy. “Come on, you’re doing so well for me. Such a good boy.”

And that last sentence… that’s talk Gunwook always thought he wouldn’t be into, but hearing it from Matthew’s mouth, his jaw slacks open, his own movements upward stuttering. “Hyung,” he manages, gripping Matthew’s hair, as if pushing him further into his neck. “ Oh,”  he moans again with each thrust. 

Seeming amused, Matthew pulls away momentarily with a lick, “You like that? You like being hyung’s good boy?” 

If it were anyone else, Gunwook would’ve cringed. But now… Gunwook can’t answer, shocked now that he’s discovered a new dirty talk he hadn’t realized does things to him. 

“Yes— fuck ,” Gunwook lets out a loud moan, more drawn out than before. But he can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed when Matthew reattaches their lips instantly. 

Both of his shorts and Gunwook’s sweatpants have been defiled at this point and Gunwook wants more than anything to take them off and have Matthew’s cock in his mouth. But he holds himself back, willing himself to enjoy the beautiful drags of Matthew’s ass against his painful, hard cock. 

Gunwook explores under Matthew’s shirt, squeezing and rubbing against his muscles, the same ones that had Gunwook drooling not so long ago. And now, their tongues are fighting for control, a battle Gunwook is pathetically losing. 

That’s when Gunwook feels himself getting close, and he whines. “C-Close,” Gunwook stutters against Matthew’s lips, hips twitching. 

But Matthew continues his torture, one that Gunwook is surrendering himself to. The hot burning of pleasure threatens to spill out, and Gunwook wants to get there. But not without Matthew. 

However, Matthew doesn’t seem too concerned about that, focusing on Gunwook with everything he has. “Come on,” he encourages, sucking Gunwook’s lip. “You’ve been so good for me. Come for me, baby.”

Hearing him, Gunwook’s eyes roll back, crying out as the knot that had been holding him together breaks, releasing pleasure that sends Gunwook gripping onto Matthew. His hips move frantic now, wanting to draw out his orgasm as long as he can while rubbing their cocks together. Matthew whines, loud and clear, twitching in his hold as he comes, his skin hot and flushed. Gunwook isn’t sure when Matthew started crying, but he feels the wetness trailing down his cheeks from the stimulation. 

They rut against each other’s cock, enjoying the pleasure in the embrace. And Gunwook wonders if coming always meant to feel this way. Because all Gunwook wants to do is hug Matthew tight and cry with him, strong feelings that frighten him spilling out. 

It’s slow as they come down from their high, panting with exhaustion. But they don’t pull away from each other, even as they hiss when Matthew accidentally moves, the overstimulation almost blinding. 

“You okay?” Matthew asks, voice husky. “You feeling good?”

Gunwook captures his lips, the kiss slow and sensual before parting. “Yes. You made me feel so good, hyung,” he leans in again before Matthew can reply. 

Matthew hums in contentment, softly caressing Gunwook’s shoulders. “I hope I made it up to you now,” he jokes with a smile. 

Even with his hazy eyes and messy hair, Gunwook scoffs. “You know I never cared about that to begin with.”

Matthew chuckles before pecking his lips. “How about we clean ourselves up? Hopefully I can find something big enough for you to wear,” he comments before pausing. “Unless you don’t want to stay over?” He questions, unsure. 

Gunwook shakes his head almost frantically. “No, I do. If you’ll have me,” he trails off. 

“Of course,” Matthew grins, landing a chaste kiss on his lips before he tries to stand. 

They clean up, laughing when they realize they left the episode paused and forgotten, unapologetic as they turn the tv off. They can actually watch it another day. 

Matthew is able to find some clothes that fit Gunwook, apparently some that Gyuvin left a couple weeks ago when he slept over. Under the guise of changing, Gunwook locks himself in the bathroom, staring at his blushing cheeks in the mirror, and tries his hardest to stop himself from smiling like a lunatic. 

He can’t believe he just did that. Even thinking about the gentle way Matthew treated him — is treating him now — sends him spiraling. 

He manages to get himself under control, leaving the bathroom to see Matthew already sprawled out on the bed, clothes changed and hair wet. “Gunwook,” Matthew calls, sitting up. “Hope you don’t mind sharing a bed,” he says, raising an eyebrow. 

Yes please. 

Gunwook answers the request with a nod, joining Matthew on the bed. He’s beyond exhausted now, their earlier act having taken a toll on him. So when Matthew pulls him down, Gunwook falls easily, hair sprawled out on the pillow and allows Matthew to place a blanket over him. 

“Don’t want you to get cold,” Matthew comments. Gunwook chuckles, opening his arms to have Matthew in his hold. 

Then there’s that fact Gunwook realized long ago — he fits perfectly in my arms . It rings true now with how Matthew just stuffs his face in Gunwook’s neck, letting the younger man envelope him.  “Sleep tight,” Gunwook says, his own eyes beginning to slip. And just like that Gunwook is out. 

Chapter Text

Three days before the first game of the season, Gunwook finds himself in the gym by himself, basketball in his hands and sweat dripping down his face. 

He’s been practicing nonstop, for around three hours since team practice ended. He had managed to stay back without anyone really noticing — knowing they’d try to get him to leave with them. But Gunwook needs this. He needs to focus on his plays right now, practice until he wears himself down — at least for now. He doesn’t want to disappoint anyone, especially since the media has now gotten wind of who Gunwook exactly is. 

When he first saw the article titled, ‘ KU to SNU? Learn more about Park Gunwook, the rival turned player!’ he deemed it a shitty article, but it started something on social media that had Gunwook anxious. 

There’s been more talk about the long awaited KU game, one that is around two weeks away. They have four games before then, so he has some time to prepare himself. It’s just… seeing how much people are talking about him, even finding old videos of him on the KU team, it’s embarrassing. 

He has already gone through enough dealing with the fact he had to transfer — but being with the SNU team made it better. It’s one thing having to prove himself to his new team. But to both of the schools? That’s a whole different story. 

Gunwook shoots the ball, making it successfully through the hoop. He exhales heavily, standing motionless as he lets his thoughts run wild. 

Oh what he would do to be in bed right now, eat some good food and maybe spill his heart out to Taerae and Zhang Hao. But he’s trapped himself here now, like he’s shackled to the pains of his past, mortified by how it always continues to haunt him wherever he goes. 

Does it ever really end?

“There you are,” a voice interrupts his thoughts. He looks back, and sees Matthew approaching him. He’s wearing normal clothes, proof he must’ve already gone home and changed. He looks worried, jogging up to meet Gunwook in the center of the court. 

“Hyung,” Gunwook furrows his eyebrows. “What are you doing here?”

Matthew smiles, almost sadly. “That’s what I’m supposed to be asking,” he says before inhaling. “Imagine my surprise when I tagged along with Hanbin to go to your apartment only to find out you hadn’t arrived home yet. You're lucky your roommates stalk your location.”

Dreading what this might turn into, Gunwook shakes his head. “I’m okay,” he attempts to appease, eyeing the stray ball at his feet. He picks it up, fully intent on continuing his practice. But he pauses when Matthew snatches the ball out of his hands. A bit surprised, Gunwook mumbles, “Hyung?”

“Nope,” Matthew decides with finality. “You’re coming home with me now.”

“Hyung,” he whines, stepping closer, finding it silently amusing when Matthew tosses the ball away from them. “Just a bit more? Please?”

Looking pained at the question, Matthew pushes forward to intertwine their fingers together. “Gunwook, let’s go home, yeah?” He offers, almost like a plea. “You need to rest, okay? You’ve been working so hard lately. It’s okay to chill out.”

A pang of frustration surges through him. “It’s not,” Gunwook grits out, squeezing his eyes shut with regret when he realizes his tone. Fuck. He needs to calm down. Matthew didn’t do anything wrong. “Sorry, just…”

“It’s okay,” Matthew comforts, voice smooth. “I know… I know you’ve been stressed lately, but working like this until midnight isn’t the answer. And I’m not sure why security hasn’t kicked you out yet,” Matthew attempts to joke. “Just… come home with me? Please? We can go to my apartment. They’re having a game night at yours, but we can stay at mine.”

Gunwook waits there a couple moments, the ideas bouncing around in his head. He contemplates leaving now with Matthew, diving himself into that reprieve… but at the same time letting himself go from that determination that led him here in the first place. He knows this line of thinking isn't rational. But this is something he is used to. 

You fail, you practice. You do something wrong, you are punished for it. 

Yet his hyung now, is looking at him with pleading eyes, hand squeezing around Gunwook’s. Matthew doesn't share that sentiment. He doesn’t approve of it. It makes Gunwook feel ashamed and he hangs his head low, trying to escape Matthew’s gaze. 

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, voice broken. Recognizing the guilt threatening to spill over, Gunwook tries to regulate his breathing, and it’s a task he is slowly getting better at. 

“I’m not scolding you,” Matthew whispers, taking a step closer, as if possible. “I just don’t want to see you like this. You’re already doing fine on your own. There’s no need to burn yourself out.”

Gunwook doesn’t reply. He isn’t sure what to say. 

Seeing that Gunwook won’t respond, Matthew pulls him away, leading him to the seats on the sidelines. He sits them down with a stern look. “Gunwook,” he sighs. “Take a breather.”

And Gunwook does. He focuses on Matthew’s hand in his and tries to dispel all the overwhelming thoughts — about school, the media, the season, his family. He isn’t entirely successful, back still tense. But maybe he’s getting there. He thinks having Matthew here is helping him. Gunwook always thought needing someone else to lift you up was weak. It was a vulnerability that Gunwook would never need. But now, he thinks maybe it isn’t so bad. 

Breaking the silence, Gunwook clears his throat, his eyes focused on the way Matthew plays with his fingers absentmindedly. “Hyung,” he calls softly. Matthew makes a noise of acknowledgment. “Do you ever miss Canada?”

Matthew’s forehead wrinkles in confusion, perhaps wondering why Gunwook is asking such a question out of the blue. 

But it isn’t something random to Gunwook. 

He has always wondered just how Matthew can remain so strong while being so far away from his family. Gunwook, whose family visits quite often and is a train ride away, sometimes feels alone in the big city. But Matthew? It seems the complete opposite. 

And Gunwook needs that kind of strength now — the kind that can make Gunwook forget about his past, and help him focus on the present. He hates feeling like he’s cursed to the chapter of last year for life — like he will always be associated with it. How can he break free from it? 

“I do,” Matthew answers calmly. “Of course I do. I don’t see my noona or eomma often, but we call pretty frequently,” the corner of his mouth tugs up in a small smile. “But I know they will always support me wherever I go, and whatever path I choose. Remembering that kind of makes the distance a little easier, a little smaller.” 

“Was it hard?” Gunwook whispers. “Coming all the way over here by yourself?”

Matthew chuckles sadly, “Very. I didn’t speak Korean as well as I would’ve liked. It helped that I met Hanbin hyung and he essentially took me under his wing.” His thumb caresses along Gunwook’s hand. “I learned that hyung was similar to me, leaving one passion for another. I left Canada behind to follow this dream of playing basketball, and hopefully one day returning to what I also love most.”

“And what’s that?”

“Dance,” Matthew answers. “I never told you, did I?” Gunwook shakes his head, scandalized. “I don’t like to talk about it much. Hyung and I take some classes sometimes, and go to this dance studio every now and then. But sometimes we get too busy, especially during the season.”

“Now I need to see you dance,” Gunwook smiles. “Why did you leave it?”

Thinking over his words, Matthew hums. “Because I knew this was an opportunity I would never get again. Playing for this university and living in Korea sounded like a dream and I couldn’t pass it by. So I didn’t. I let my noona take dance while I played here,” he chuckles lightly. 

“Do…Do you regret it?” Gunwook treads carefully. He doesn’t want to overstep, to push the boundaries. 

But Matthew regards Gunwook with a fond look. “No, not at all,” he affirms. “I’m playing for a good school, my family is proud of me, and I’m surrounded by some of the best people I've ever met. There’s nothing I can complain about.”

Gunwook looks down at their joined hands. 

“I always try to see the bright side of things. After all, a shadow is cast with a light shining nearby,” Matthew says, seeming proud of himself for knowing the saying in Korean. Gunwook chuckles lightly, amused. 

“I get what you mean,” Gunwook recollects himself. “It’s just hard.”

“Of course it is,” Matthew interjects. “Just because you focus on the good things, it doesn’t mean you ignore the bad things completely. Pushing it away will only overwhelm you in the future.”

“Then how do you do both?” Gunwook asks, like he’s desperate. Matthew pauses, considering Gunwook's question with a thoughtful expression. 

After a moment, he replies, “It's about balance. You acknowledge the bad, learn from it, maybe even let it motivate you, but you also don't let it overshadow the good. If that makes sense?” He says, unsure if he said it correctly. “Like, when I have a rough day, I try to think of at least one thing that went well, or something I'm grateful for.” Gunwook listens intently, nodding slightly as Matthew continues. “It's not about pretending everything is fine when it's not. It’s more about not letting it overwhelm you. You give them attention, sure, but you also give yourself permission to enjoy the good moments without guilt.”

The way Matthew explains it, it seems so straightforward. However, Gunwook knows that path isn’t as direct as it looks. But he can try. 

“Thank you,” Gunwook gulps, his voice catching slightly. The room falls silent except for the reverberating words Matthew had spoken moments before, now echoing in Gunwook’s mind, insistent and profound. He feels the weight of them, pushing him to adopt a new perspective, to acknowledge the light even in the presence of shadows.

It might be difficult, but Gunwook is willing to view everything in that way. Especially with someone like Matthew at his side… Gunwook isn’t alone. He has to remember that. 

“Think I can steal you away now?” Matthew's voice breaks through Gunwook's contemplation, pulling a hesitant smile onto his face. 

He looks up to find Matthew's eyes seeking his, shining with a mischievous glint that manages to ease some of the heaviness in his chest.

Reluctant, but knowing staying here will do more harm than good, Gunwook nods slowly. Matthew’s face lights up with a bright, gratifying smile as he stands, his energy genuine. “Where to?” he asks, a lilt of excitement in his voice.

“My apartment,” Gunwook responds, more sure of himself. Maybe being around his friends will help him feel better. 

“Okay,” Matthew says as he reaches over to lift Gunwook’s bag, his movements fluid and assured. “Let’s go.”

“Great! You guys arrived just on time!” Gyuvin yells from the living room, calling for Matthew and Gunwook to come quickly. “They’re bullying me here.”

Unaffected by his urgency, “Hey guys!” Matthew tells them with a smile, setting Gunwook’s bag on the table before leading Gunwook to the living room. They had taken a bit longer than expected, Gunwook deciding to take a shower in the locker rooms instead of waiting. 

Hanbin pats the empty space next to him to call the pair over, and that’s when Gunwook notices a boy — who he vaguely recognizes as Yujin —  at the captain’s side, laughing silently. He’s somehow related to Gyuvin apparently, always attending their games and supporting the team, even though he’s still in high school. Gunwook bows his head in a silent greeting that Yujin shyly returns. 

Addressing Gyuvin’s complaint, “You’re just mad you’re losing terribly,” Taerae comments on the side as Gunwook practically collapses onto the floor, Matthew sitting next to him. A board game sits in the middle of them all, abandoned as Gunwook notices just how terribly Gyuvin had lost. 

Gyuvin doesn’t appreciate this comment, handing Ricky his drink before attacking Taerae in a hug. “Being mean again,” he teases as Taerae lets out a yell. 

“Help!” Taerae cries for Zhang Hao, but the man only laughs. “You’re laughing? Your favorite roommate needs help and you’re laughing?”

“His favorite what now?” Gunwook interrupts with a faux scandalized expression. 

Zhang Hao shrugs. “Look, one of you helps me make coffee in the morning,” he holds up his hands in surrender. “Not going to say who though…” but Gunwook knows who won. To annoy him, Gunwook sticks his tongue out at Taerae playfully. 

“Is coffee all you need for someone to win you over?” Gyuvin questions as he finally frees Taerae from his torment. “Hanbin hyung must be a barista then.”

Even though it was meant as a joke, Hanbin sits up with rapt excitement. “I was. My mom owns a cafe, remember?”

The tease forgotten, Gyuvin smiles back, like the kind soul he is. “Oh yeah! Can we go visit her again? I loved the pastry she made us last time.”

Changing the subject, Matthew clears his throat. “So you guys up for another round?” He proposes, hand landing on Gunwook’s knee as he leans forward. 

“We played this one five rounds already,” Ricky mentions, even though a small smile is threatening to overtake his features. Gyuvin pouts, poking his cheek, which earns him a half-hearted smack. 

“And we can play it again,” Hanbin intones, silently chiding him — perhaps meaning be nice, they just got here . He picks up the dice to fix up the board again. “You’re only saying that because your boyfriend keeps losing.”

“Not true!” “ Very true, actually.” Both Gyuvin and Ricky speak at the same time. 

Yujin observes Hanbin for a moment before saying, “You’re just lucky Zhang Hao hyung is genius enough to at least pretend you’re not helping him cheat,” Yujin purses his lips, but everyone overhears. 

“Don’t lie!” Hanbin defends himself weakly even as Zhang Hao tries to hide his amusement at being caught. 

Gunwook smiles absentmindedly, brave enough to place his arm around Matthew’s shoulders. They’re around people he knows won’t hate him for it. They’ll probably tease him to hell and back, but Gunwook has noticed in the past how Matthew doesn’t seem to mind. He doesn’t care whether they see them together or not. 

And just like Matthew said, finding the good in the bad. The good here is not ignoring what they have both been pushing to the side — what they are to each other — in front of others. They haven’t talked about it. Gunwook knows they should soon. But little steps like these… It might be enough for Gunwook to build up that courage. 

Not being pushed away… it’s something Gunwook isn’t used to. In his last relationship, he was always hidden, cared for in the shadows, and ignored in front of others. Seeing how now Matthew slightly leans into Gunwook’s embrace — nonchalant as he’s laughing at how Yujin continues to expose Hanbin in front of everyone — only increases the power of the butterflies in his stomach. 

No one else seems to notice, or maybe they’ve already expected this enough to not care. That brings Gunwook some form of relief. 

“Let’s start then!” Gyuvin decides, helping Hanbin set up the abandoned board. 

Before he can be dragged into a round, Gunwook begins to stand up, “I’ll be back. I’m just going to change into some sweats,” he says. Matthew grabs onto his hand from the floor, and that’s when Gunwook remembers. “Oh, I have your shirt.” It’s the one that Matthew had lent him that night he slept over. But if Gunwook is using it as an excuse to get Matthew alone in his room, no one has to know

Matthew stands up quickly. “I forgot about that,” he chuckles, as if he didn’t recognize Gunwook’s true intentions. Gunwook ignores Ricky’s pointed glare and drags Matthew away by the hand. 

Their walk through the hall is silent, Matthew following Gunwook obediently. Gunwook then pushes open the door to his room and shuts it behind them. The room is clouded in darkness, and just when Gunwook is about to flip on the light to see better, he is pushed against the wall. 

“Hyung?” Gunwook gasps in response, looking down at Matthew who now is pressed against him. The look in Matthew’s eyes is piercing, and Gunwook wishes he can see him better, the dim light to blame. “What…”

Matthew doesn’t say much, responding to his plea by grabbing the back of Gunwook’s neck to collide their lips together. It’s a desperate kiss from the start, Gunwook shaking off his initial surprise to make room for the arousal rising in his gut. 

Their lips move against each other almost hungrily, all-consuming as Gunwook tries to recollect himself. But when Matthew licks along his bottom lip impatiently, every coherent thought in his mind slips away and Gunwook’s hands find purchase on Matthew’s waist. 

With a persuasive bite on Gunwook’s lip, Gunwook’s jaw slacks just enough for Matthew to invade his mouth with a hum. Gunwook relishes in the gratifying want that pours through Matthew’s every movement, every breath or huff, every kiss that makes Gunwook feel more than he’s prepared for. 

Having the fleeting impulse of being ravaged by Matthew right here, Gunwook thinks he needs to calm before his knees weaken from the pure desire. Matthew doesn’t seem to have the same mindset though, his right hand flatly pressed against Gunwook’s chest as he slides it down. 

As every second passes with Matthew’s hand traveling down Gunwook’s torso, every single thought that passes through Gunwook’s mind sends his face aflame. It's such a strange thing — wanting so much, willing to take anything from another person. It’s something he should be getting used to, but imagining Matthew doing things to him right now is like something he’s never felt before. 

With the delicious taste of Matthew’s lips on his, Gunwook can only say one thing … hyung, hyung, hyung. And with difficulty, Gunwook whispers, “Hyung,” against Matthew’s mouth, so needy and desperate that Gunwook finds himself shy. 

Suggestively, Mathew’s hand stops at Gunwook’s waistband, mouth pausing momentarily. “Yes, baby?” But he sounds careful, like he’s waiting for Gunwook’s every word. 

“Fuck,” Gunwook curses under his breath when Matthew steps closer, his finger toying with the waistband of his boxers. 

Gunwook knows they can’t do much — shouldn’t do much — because their friends are just outside, waiting for them to return to join the round. And here Gunwook is, wishing that Matthew slides his hand into his pants. But fuck. He’s horny now. And who wouldn’t be? Having a beauty like Matthew against him, grabbing every inch of Gunwook with a smirk, kissing his lips just enough to tease him.  

But Matthew is letting Gunwook decide, looking up at him with expectancy, like Gunwook’s wants is all that has ever mattered. And it’s so sweet, so different than Gunwook had been used to that when the tears make their dramatic appearance, Gunwook feels too overwhelmed to wipe them away. 

A tear must meet Matthew’s hand cupping Gunwook’s cheek because Matthew makes a noise of concern. “Baby? What’s wrong?” He says, fingers leaving Gunwook’s waistband to cup his cheeks with both hands. 

The mood shifts so suddenly and Gunwook exhales shakily, trying to subtly shake Matthew’s hands away, but Matthew doesn’t let up, eyes observing him through the dim light. Gunwook sniffs, “I-I don’t know,” he mumbles. 

“Sorry,” Matthew says sincerely. “Should have asked.” 

But Gunwook shakes his head immediately. “No,” he corrects, hands grabbing into Matthew’s wrists, tight enough that Matthew can’t move away if he tries. “I want it. I want it so much. I just, I don’t know why I’m crying,” he whines quietly as a new wave of tears comes down his face. 

These tears aren’t the same ones that would escape when Gunwook is aroused, or when Matthew is unraveling him like he did last time. Gunwook realizes with dread that these tears are different, disregarding the arousal that once permeated throughout his body. 

“I’m sorry,” is what Gunwook manages to say, because that’s all he can produce coherently. Matthew leans forward to place a short, chaste kiss on his lips. 

“What are you feeling?” Matthew questions softly, like he wants to get to the bottom of it all. But even Gunwook can’t articulate everything that is sending tension throughout all his limbs. “Good or bad?”

“G-Good,” Gunwook exhales, unsure. “I just, something came over me. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t want Matthew retreating out of courtesy, something very like Matthew that Gunwook is almost sure he will do so. 

Grazing his cheek gently, Matthew hums in thought. “You’ve been going through a lot of stress,” he coos. “I should have been more mindful. Don’t apologize.”

But Matthew doesn’t understand. Gunwook is crying because this is all he had ever wanted. Someone older than him, treating him with unconditional kindness and caring for him with a love that speaks with his every action. 

And now… Gunwook knows that this is what it’s supposed to look like. This is what true desire is. And maybe they aren’t officially together, but it’s here and now that Gunwook realizes that Matthew must like him as much as he does him. 

Because Matthew doesn’t mess around. That’s what everyone keeps telling him. And Matthew always checks in with Gunwook, trusting him with his own pain when the time comes, and being so unapologetically himself that Gunwook envies him for that. 

“Hyung, I…” Gunwook squeezes his eyes shut, mortified. The words are on the tip of his tongue, ready to slip out. He knows they won't be met harshly. But it still scares him. 

“Tell me, baby,” Matthew rushes, worried. There’s an undertone of urgency that echoes throughout the dark room. 

Dazed, Gunwook gulps down his anxiety. Or at least he tries, because his voice still shakes and cracks when he blurts, “I really like you.”

The words are released so emotionally charged that Gunwook cries more just from saying them. Gunwook is the one making a move forward, being an active player in their story rather than a chess piece. 

Matthew inhales sharply, his noticeable surprise sending a jolt of fear down Gunwook’s spine. It’s something they must have both known. But even with the indiscreet confessions they had both said before, with the intensity, the passion in which Gunwook reveals these four words, it must be shocking for Matthew, just like it is for Gunwook. 

“I-I do, too,” Matthew stutters, so shy, so sheepish that Gunwook feels winded. “I like you, too, Gunwookie. Of course I do.” Gunwook cannot help but sigh in relief, Matthew’s confession a blaring reminder that Gunwook isn’t alone anymore. 

“You do?” Gunwook repeats wetly, not because he doesn’t believe it, but because he wants to hear it again. 

Matthew must see right through him, smirking as he leans forward. “I like you,” he whispers, slowly, “ So much, baby.”

Gunwook gives into his impulse and leans forward again, their mouths meeting ceremoniously. This time, they move with a slowness that works Gunwook up more than before. 

The sensations of Matthew leaning in for more, every breath hitched and small moan muffled, has Gunwook trying to ground himself. His hands explore all over Matthew’s body that he can reach, their fronts pressed together. 

Gunwook doesn’t know how long they kiss. All he knows is that he grows more pliant in Matthew’s hold, leaning against the wall with weak knees. All he knows is that every time the memory of Matthew’s confession crosses his mind again, he shudders from the excitement, lungs constricting. 

And all he knows is that Matthew has a gift. Matthew knows just how to show Gunwook his devotion with every electrifying kiss, every lingering collision with Gunwook’s own tongue. Vulnerable to his attacks, Gunwook has grown addicted to it, his panting proof of the effect Matthew has on him. 

Where they are becomes forgotten, Gunwook trapped in an endless loop of Matthew Matthew Matthew. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Just when Gunwook is going to propose something further, Matthew pulls away. “Very eager today,” he comments, as if he wasn’t the one who started it all. His lips are wet and glistening, visible with the little slither of light they do have. “But we might need to go out soon,” he kisses Gunwook again, sending Gunwook’s blood roaring in his ears. “But tonight, I’ll have you all to myself.”

Not having expected it, Gunwook holds back a moan when Matthew begins to suck on his jaw, traveling down to his exposed neck. “Th-That’s not fair,” Gunwook stutters, controlled by every lick Matthew delivers so hungrily. 

“No, it isn’t,” Matthew says when his mouth allows Gunwook some mercy, hand sliding to the back of Gunwook’s neck with a grip. “But you’ll listen, won’t you?” 

Shame thrown out the window, Gunwook nods almost frantically, wanting Matthew to know that he will listen. He won’t let him down. 

“Good,” Matthew whispers, satisfied by nonverbal Gunwook’s response. Matthew then begrudgingly takes a step back, hands gliding down Gunwook’s arms. “I’ll leave first, okay?”

“Okay,” Gunwook’s gaze never leaves Matthew, trying to take in what he can before Matthew disappears into the hallway. 

Gunwook takes a bit longer than usual before he can stand upright. He draws in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he changes into the comfortable sweats he'd initially come in for. He runs a hand through his hair, hoping it doesn’t betray the torture Matthew had put him through, then glances in the mirror one last time before stepping back into the atmosphere of his apartment.

The lively cheers and bursts of laughter hit him as he reenters the living room. His friends are sprawled around, engrossed in a video game that's playing out on the screen. Matthew, sitting in the midst of the group, holds a game controller, his concentration broken only by a triumphant grin as he scores another point.

Seeing Gunwook, Matthew's eyes light up, and he pats the space next to him. Gunwook doesn't hesitate. He slides into the space beside Matthew on the couch, immediately enveloped in the warm, familiar scent that always clings to him. His cheeks warm with a blush as he recalls their recent confessions they made in Gunwook’s room.

​​Gunwook fights to steady his breathing, trying not to focus on how close they are or how the heat of Matthew’s presence seems to radiate through him. And yet, Matthew seems completely unfazed. How? How does he sit there, so composed, while Gunwook feels like he’s barely holding it together?

Suddenly, Gyuvin interrupts his thoughts, shoving a game controller into his hands. “You’re playing Mario Kart,” Gyuvin says, determined. “We can’t let Matthew hyung win again.”

Matthew’s laugh rings out, genuine and carefree, as he hands his own controller over to a very excited Yujin sitting on his other side. But instead of joining in on the game, Matthew leans into Gunwook, resting his head comfortably on Gunwook’s shoulder as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Let’s see how well you guys do without me,” Matthew teases, his voice soft and playful, red lips now curling in a pout — the same ones that were pressed against Gunwook’s earlier. Gunwook. Chill! 

As Matthew’s head stays resting against his shoulder, Gunwook grips the controller a little tighter, trying desperately not to think about how that simple touch is unraveling him all over again.

They start the game soon enough, Zhang Hao joining Gyuvin, Yujin, and Gunwook with a competitive laugh. The race progresses, Gyuvin and Yujin now loudly strategizing against Zhang Hao, their faces lit with excitement as their characters target their hyung. But Gunwook can only half-listen to them, because every so often, Matthew shifts slightly, his hair brushing against Gunwook's neck, sending a pleasant shiver through him.

“Gunwook, focus! Hyung is behind you!” Gyuvin shouts suddenly, jolting Gunwook from his thoughts. Blinking, he glances at the screen just in time to swerve his character out of the path of an incoming shell. His heart skips a beat, his fingers reflexively tightening around the controller as he maneuvers his avatar back into the race.

Beside him, Matthew chuckles softly, finally lifting his head to watch the game unfold. “Looks like you don’t need me to hold back after all,” he teases, his voice carrying a subtle note of pride.

“No! You’re being mean,” Zhang Hao complains as Gyuvin snickers beside him. He struggles to advance back to eleventh place, a pout on his face as he silently plans his revenge. Gunwook easily makes it past the finish line first, sighing in relief once he is done. Gyuvin makes it in second, Yujin third, and Zhang Hao last place again. “That’s it. All of you are banned.”

“But, hyung I live here,” Gunwook laughs, still catching his breath as he leans against Matthew.