Sunbae - means senior
Hyung - a word used by Korean males to address their older brothers and other older males whom they are close to
CSAT - Standardized test used for admissions by Universities and Colleges in South Korea
***
As the days dragged by, Min-jun slowly came to terms with the storm inside him, hiding his emotions behind a carefully constructed mask of composure. At school, the constant presence of Chang-min and Han-bin became his solace, offering him a fragile sense of relief amidst the chaos. Their easy laughter and steady companionship kept him from slipping too far into loneliness, giving him just enough strength to endure his silent battle for control — and for the pieces of his heart he was still trying to hold together.
From time to time, Min-jun found himself wandering past Seung-joon's classroom, casually dropping by under the pretense of chatting with friends. In truth, his eyes always sought out Seung-joon, observing him from a quiet distance.
He soon noticed that Seung-joon rarely left his seat, speaking only to the boy who sat beside him. The two seemed almost invisible to the rest of the class, tucked away in their own small world.
It struck Min-jun how little anyone really knew about Seung-joon. But then again, the relentless pace of their school — crammed schedules, endless assignments, and constant pressure — left little room for curiosity about quiet boys who didn't step into the spotlight. It was easy to fade into the background when everyone was too busy just trying to keep up.
School A* was a prestigious institution, a place where only the most exceptional students earned a seat (even among the rich and noble)— and among them, Seung-joon stood unrivaled. He consistently topped every subject, earning a quiet, almost untouchable reputation.
Over time, an invisible aura had formed around him, creating a silent barrier that kept others at a distance. It was as if Seung-joon moved through the school encased in a delicate, unseen bubble, gliding through his tasks with a calm, unhurried grace that somehow discouraged anyone from getting too close.
Min-jun had noticed it all — the occasional lingering glances from girls who admired Seung-joon from afar, yet none ever dared approach him. It was as if Seung-joon's self-contained world existed just slightly out of reach, too pure or too distant for ordinary intrusion.
And strangely, that untouchable solitude, that small, private universe of Seung-joon's, brought a kind of peace to Min-jun's burning, restless heart. In its quiet stillness, he found a refuge from his own turmoil — and without fully realizing it, he stopped trying to deny his feelings. Slowly, he allowed himself to simply feel, no longer fighting the inevitable pull Seung-joon had on him.
There were nights when Min-jun found himself crying uncontrollably in the solitude of his room, but he no longer fought the tears. He simply let them fall, wave after wave, until the ache inside him softened. Strangely, these moments of release made it easier to smile genuinely around his family, without needing to force the mask of happiness he had worn for so long.
His home, once a place of comfort, had begun to feel like an invisible prison — a beautiful cage that trapped his emotions and kept his true self hidden. But slowly, painfully, Min-jun learned to free his soul in secret. He allowed it to drift among the complex, aching emotions Seung-joon had awakened in him.
The bittersweet mixture of sweetness and sorrow, of yearning and quiet despair, became the pulse that kept his longing heart alive — a secret rhythm that only he could hear.
At school, Min-jun often allowed his gaze to wander until it inevitably found Seung-joon. Over time, he had quietly memorized Seung-joon's routines and habits, piecing together fragments of the boy's quiet world. So it was a surprise when he discovered that Seung-joon was a member of the art club — something Min-jun hadn't expected at all.
Without hesitation, Min-jun joined the club, eager for any excuse to be closer to him. But reality quickly deflated his hopes: Seung-joon rarely attended meetings, often taking his prop preparation assignments home instead. Days would pass without a glimpse of him inside the clubroom.
Even so, Min-jun found an odd sense of comfort just being there, surrounded by paint-splattered tables and half-finished projects, in the space Seung-joon had once occupied. It was enough — for now — to share even a sliver of the world Seung-joon touched, even if from a distance.
One day, Min-jun found himself caught off guard when he learned that Seung-joon would be joining the art club's annual trip.
He couldn't stop himself from grinning like an idiot as he watched Seung-joon from a distance, casually dressed and looking more approachable than ever. It felt almost surreal, seeing him outside the usual school setting, the sunlight catching in his hair, the quiet ease of his movements stirring something even deeper in Min-jun's chest.
But as the initial excitement faded, a new, more daunting realization slowly settled over him: they would be spending extended time together, in close quarters, throughout the trip.
Min-jun's heart raced with a complicated mix of exhilaration and panic, knowing that maintaining his fragile composure was about to become far more difficult than ever before.
"Argh... No, no, no... This can't be happening," Min-jun muttered frantically, yanking at his hair. "I should cancel the trip. I'll say I'm sick. Yeah, too sick to go..."
He paced in a tight, frantic circle before suddenly freezing. In the next second, he was clinging dramatically to a nearby pillar, his eyes locked longingly on Seung-joon.
"But I don't want to..." he whined under his breath, hugging the cold concrete like it could stop him from drowning in the sea of mess he found himself in. "Ahhh... why is he so cute? Why does he have to be this cute?"
Min-jun turned helplessly to Chang-min, who stood nearby, arms crossed and a thoroughly amused expression on his face, quietly savoring his friend's agony.
Following Min-jun's gaze, Chang-min's eyes landed on Seung-joon, who was standing by the school bus, calmly helping club members double-check their supplies. In the soft afternoon light, Seung-joon looked almost unreal — gold-rimmed glasses perched delicately on his nose, a sunflower-yellow pullover layered over a crisp white shirt and neatly pressed trousers. There was an effortless charm about him, understated yet impossible to ignore.
Still, Chang-min couldn't resist the opportunity to tease.
"He looks pretty plain to me," he said with a shrug. "Maybe you should get your eyes checked, Minjun-ah."
Feeling utterly bewildered, Min-jun looked from Chang-min to Seung-joon and back again before letting out a heavy sigh. Defeated, he slumped down onto the staircase leading from the main hall, choosing to wait until the flurry of students had boarded the bus.
When the crowd had thinned, he finally made his way toward the bus, keeping his head low, his heart hammering nervously in his chest. He slipped into the first empty seat he could find, tugging his headphones on in a silent plea for isolation. Closing his eyes, he let the gentle hum of the bus's engine and the steady rhythm of his music wash over him. Slowly, the tension ebbed from his body, and sleep claimed him.
He was pulled from his dreams by a soft tap on his arm. Blinking groggily, Min-jun opened his eyes — only to find Seung-joon sitting beside him, leaning in and speaking to him.
For a moment, Min-jun could only stare, his mind struggling to catch up to reality.
"Sunbae, we're almost there."
The gentle voice pulled Min-jun fully awake. It took him a few moments to gather himself, his heart hammering so violently it felt as if it might leap from his chest. Somehow, he managed to offer Seung-joon a smile — shaky, but sincere — even as excitement and anxiety churned wildly within him.
The next moments blurred together. Min-jun barely remembered how he stumbled off the bus or found his way to his room. After a rushed shower that did little to steady him, he slipped outside, needing air, needing space to clear his head.
He wandered along the empty beach, the cool, damp sand shifting beneath his feet. The salty breeze tugged at his hair, carrying away some of the tension coiled inside him. Slowly, with each step, the overwhelming emotions began to ebb, like waves retreating back into the sea.
Feeling drained, Min-jun finally sank down onto the sand, resting his arms on his knees as he watched the sun melt into the horizon. The sky flared with hues of orange, pink, and violet, and for a while, the world seemed to hold its breath.
The breeze calmed him, but the endless stretch of blue water tugged at his heart, inevitably reminding him of Seung-joon — of those deep, captivating eyes that had upended his entire world.
As he turned his head back toward the resort, his gaze caught on a familiar figure silhouetted by the bonfire's glow — Seung-joon, standing alone, outlined by the flickering flames against the darkening sky.
Min-jun's breath caught in his throat, the moment as fragile and breathtaking as a dream he never wanted to end.
Min-jun's mind drifted back to wonder what it was about Seung-joon that held such a powerful grip on his heart and whether he would ever be able to move on. With only a few months left until graduation and the looming CSAT exams, the thought of parting from Seung-joon was a constant, painful ache in his chest. Every moment spent together felt like a precious thread woven into the fabric of his life, and the idea of unraveling that thread filled him with a deep, hollow sense of dread. Though he knew that separation was inevitable, a part of him clung desperately to the hope that time might stretch, offering him more fleeting moments to cherish. Min-jun wished with all his heart that his remaining days in high school would crawl by slowly, allowing him to savor every last second spent with Seung-joon before they both ventured on separate paths.
Min-jun's thoughts were abruptly pulled back to the present when a junior arrived to escort him to dinner. As he sat across from Seung-joon, the reflection of the flickering bonfire in Seung-joon's eyes seemed to pull at his heartstrings, each flicker intensifying the bittersweet feelings that were already simmering within him. The night seemed to slip away too swiftly, and Min-jun returned to his room enveloped in a deep sense of sadness. Seung-joon's early departure left him with an ache of longing, wishing he could have caught one last, fleeting glimpse of him. As Min-jun removed his jacket, he was caught off guard by Seung-joon's voice. To his utter shock, Seung-joon stood next to his bed, his gaze filled with an apologetic warmth that tugged at Min-jun's heart.
"Min-jun sunbae, there were not enough rooms for everyone. So, the teacher put me in yours because you have a double bed. But if you don't like sleeping in the same bed, I can sleep on the floor."
Min-jun turned towards Seung-joon with a pounding heart. It took him a minute to gather himself and reply,
"No. It's okay. I don't mind sharing. It's too cold to sleep on the floor. You can choose a side." Min-jun looked around confusedly for a second and darted towards the bathroom, grabbing his nightclothes hurriedly. He mumbled as he went in, "I'll take a shower first."
Min-jun closed the bathroom door behind him with a trembling hand. The intense heat of his emotions felt like a raging inferno, and he craved the respite of the icy shower. As the cold water cascaded over him, he closed his eyes, trying to drown out the turmoil within. The shock of the freezing water against his skin was both exhilarating and numbing, a brief but welcome distraction from the chaos of his thoughts.
Shivering uncontrollably, Min-jun emerged from the shower, his body still radiating heat despite the cold water. He sat down on the bed, careful to avoid looking at Seung-joon, who was seated on the opposite side, absorbed in his phone. The tremors that ran through Min-jun's body were so intense that he could hear his teeth chattering. Desperately, he attempted to dry his hair, but his trembling hands made the task nearly impossible. The sudden intake of breath from Seungjoon startled Min-jun, making him flinch.
"Sunbae, don't tell me you took a cold shower in this weather?"
His voice wavered between concern and reprimand. Min-jun, too engulfed in his shivering to respond, shot an embarrassed glance at Seung-joon. Seung-joon swiftly took the towel from Min-jun's unsteady hands and started drying his hair with determined efficiency. Min-jun, caught off guard by Seung-joon's unexpected and tender care, sat frozen on the spot while Seung-joon's scolding continued.
"Are you really crazy? Were you trying to kill yourself? You should have jumped into the ocean, then. It would have been better....."
The relentless stream of accusations from Seung-joon began to ease Min-jun's anxiety, bringing an unexpected smile to his face. With each sharp word, he felt his tension gradually dissipate. Min-jun marveled at how Seung-joon, who he had always perceived as quiet and reserved, could display such a fierce and passionate side. It was a striking contrast to the timid image Min-jun had held of him. In an odd twist, Seung-joon's fiery outburst reminded Min-jun of his mother's reprimands, and he found himself laughing heartily. Seung-joon's reaction was a blend of surprise and irritation, his eyes widening in a mixture of disbelief and exasperation.
Min-jun spoke through chattering teeth.
"I'm sorry. You sounded like my mum."
A small, shy smile appeared in the corner of Seung-joon's mouth. He cleared his throat and spoke apologetically.
"I'm sorry, sunbae. I was really surprised. You know you could get seriously ill, right? Let me go and grab you a hot drink."
Min-jun caught Seung-joon's arm as he turned to go.
"It's okay. I'll be alright once I'm inside the sheets. Get some rest. You worked a lot today."
Min-jun spoke tenderly as he released Seung-joon's arm, silently wishing he could hold onto it just a moment longer. Seung-joon hesitated for a few seconds, his expression reflecting uncertainty before he picked up Min-jun's jacket from the chair and insisted on helping him put it on over his t-shirt. Min-jun watched Seung-joon with a mixture of admiration and affection as he turned off the lights and settled into bed. As Min-jun closed his eyes, he focused on calming down the shivering, hoping not to disturb Seung-joon.
Suddenly, Min-jun felt Seung-joon's arms wrap around his waist in a tight embrace. The warmth of Seung-joon's body pressed against him made Min-jun's heart race, and a flush of heat spread across his face and ears. He silently thanked the darkness that cloaked them, which hid the redness creeping up his cheeks. Min-jun attempted to pull away, but Seung-joon's grip was unyielding, holding him close with an intensity that left Min-jun feeling both overwhelmed and comforted.
"Sunbae, you might feel uncomfortable or even embarrassed, but bear it for a while. Otherwise, you'll get seriously ill." Min-jun stopped resisting when Seung-joon's tender, quiet voice reached his ears. He felt the warmth of Seung-joon's body envelop him, bringing a comforting heat. Clearing his throat, Min-jun spoke in a whisper.
"Kim Seung-joon, can I ask you for a favor?"
"What is it, sunbae?"
"Can you call me hyung?" Min-jun asked with a pounding heart and waited for Seung-joon's answer.
There were a few seconds of silence, and then Seung-joon replied. Min-jun held his breath and let it go quietly when he heard his reply.
"Okay, hyung."
The night unfolded slowly, wrapped in an almost palpable silence. The only sounds were the far-off whispers of the ocean and the soothing rhythm of Seung-joon's breath. Min-jun tenderly pressed a kiss to the top of Seung-joon's head, allowing his tears to fall unheeded as he drifted off to sleep beside him.