13

Felix laid sprawled across his bed, thumb lazily flicking through TikTok as the blue glow of his phone screen lit up his face. Every now and then he’d laugh softly at a meme or roll his eyes at a dance trend, but even those wore thin eventually.

His phone dropped onto his chest with a sigh.

He was… bored. Restless.

And that gnawing pit in his stomach — the one that had been there since that dinner a few hours ago — hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had gotten worse.

He sat up just as the faint sound of a door opening echoed from downstairs, followed by the unmistakable murmur of voices — a chorus of surprised greetings and cheerful chatter.

Felix froze.

Who—?

His feet moved before his brain caught up, curiosity overpowering any hesitation. He padded out of his room and down the grand staircase, barefoot, sweater hanging loosely off one shoulder. As he reached the lower floor, the voices grew clearer — laughter, pleasantries, someone teasing someone else.

Then he turned the corner.

And stopped dead in his tracks.

There — seated gracefully on one of the antique sofas, legs crossed, hands folded politely — was Han Jisung. His best friend. His secret-keeper. The one person who used to feel like home.

Next to him, far too comfortably close, sat Hyunjin — one arm lazily draped across the back of the couch, a drink in hand, talking to Ms. Hwang and Grandma as if this were the most casual thing in the world.

Felix’s throat went dry.

Jisung looked up at just that moment — and his eyes lit up. “Lixie!”

Before Felix could even take a breath, Han was up and crossing the room, wrapping him in a tight, familiar hug.

“How are you?” Han beamed. “It’s been forever! I missed you so much, you idiot.”

Felix’s arms moved almost automatically, hugging back as he forced a small, tight smile. “Yeah… It really has been long.”

Han pulled back and gave him that same boyish grin. “You look good. Different. But good.”

Felix didn’t answer — his gaze flicked past Han to where Hyunjin now sat casually sipping his drink, head tilted as he watched the reunion unfold with a quiet, unreadable smirk.

Their eyes met for half a second.

Felix looked away first.

The pit in his stomach was now a full-blown storm.

-------

[HYUNJIN’S ROOM – MOMENTS LATER]

Felix sat on the edge of Hyunjin’s bed, arms crossed tightly over his chest, brows furrowed. His breathing had finally calmed, but the storm in his eyes hadn’t.

Hyunjin leaned against the wall, watching him with that lazy smirk — the kind that made Felix want to slap it off and kiss it at the same time.

“So what’s this thing with Han?” Felix finally asked, voice clipped.

Hyunjin hummed. “What thing?”

“Don’t play dumb, Jinnie.”

He walked over, slow and smug, until he was standing in front of Felix. He bent slightly, hands on either side of Felix’s thighs. “So what if I got myself a boyfriend?” he teased, eyes gleaming. “You’ve got a whole fiancé. Have I ever said anything?”

Felix blinked. “You’re joking, right?”

Hyunjin just tilted his head. “Am I?”

Felix narrowed his eyes, lips parting to argue — but then Hyunjin sighed, the teasing draining from his face like water down a sink.

“I’m not dating Han,” he said, more serious now. “It’s a distraction. A move. To get under Minho’s skin.”

Felix frowned. “And Han just… agreed?”

Hyunjin’s voice was quieter. “Minho and Han... they’re not just boss and secretary, Lix. There’s something going on.”

Felix’s eyes widened slightly.

Hyunjin nodded. “I’ve known for a while. I needed to shake Minho — make him feel something. And Han agreed to help.”

Felix sat there, stunned for a moment. His lips pressed into a tight line. “Han could’ve told me.”

“He didn’t want to drag you into it.”

“Well, guess what?” Felix muttered. “I’m already in it.”

Hyunjin’s smirk softened into something gentler. He stepped between Felix’s legs and pulled him in slowly, wrapping his arms around his waist. “… I know it’s messed up. But I didn’t want you to feel left out. That’s why I’m telling you now.”

Felix didn’t respond.

Hyunjin kissed the side of his neck — soft, slow — lips brushing damp curls and warm skin. “You mad?”

Felix let out a small sigh. “A little.”

Hyunjin’s lips moved lower, teasing along the curve of his neck. “Still?”

Felix shivered. “Maybe.”

Hyunjin chuckled, hands sliding up Felix’s back. “You’re adorable when you pout.”

Felix gave him a weak glare. “I’m not pouting.”

“You’re pouting,” Hyunjin whispered against his ear.

Felix rolled his eyes, but his arms slowly moved around Hyunjin’s waist. “Don’t shut me out next time.”

“I won’t,” Hyunjin promised, kissing just below his jaw. “You’re the only one I want on my side.”

Felix finally leaned into the hug fully, melting into his arms.

“…You’re lucky I like you.”

Hyunjin smiled. “Oh baby, I’m counting on it.”

-------

The corridor was silent.

Too silent.

Han’s footsteps barely echoed off the marble, the weight of polished luxury pressing down on his shoulders like guilt. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not this late. Not near him.

But something — maybe curiosity, maybe habit — tugged him toward the library door.

And then he saw him.

Sitting still under the golden lamplight, book slack in his hands, unread. Elbows on knees, brows drawn tight, lips a hard line.

Han took a sharp breath, began to turn around—

“Stop.”

The command was quiet. But it landed like thunder.

Han froze.

His stomach flipped — not in fear. Not in shame. In that stupid, sick way it always had with him.

He turned slowly, expression schooled into something bored and cold. “Why? You going to lecture me now? Or just stare?”

Minho didn’t answer.

He stood.

Han barely had time to react before he was pressed against the wall — again. Gently. But not gently enough. The book had fallen to the floor behind them with a muted thud.

Minho’s face was too close. His breath warm. His voice colder.

“What’s going on between you and him?”

Han scoffed, trying to twist away — but Minho’s hand pressed to the wall beside his head.

“None of your business.”

Minho’s jaw flexed. “Answer the fucking question.”

“You’re getting married. To someone else,” Han spat, his voice shaking now. “You don’t get to ask.”

Minho’s grip tightened slightly.

“Han… please.”

Han laughed bitterly. “You’re really asking me that? After all this time?” He looked at him — really looked. Eyes wide, unreadable, vulnerable. “Tell me something, Minho. If I told you I’d leave him… would you accept me instead?”

Minho didn’t speak.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t even breathe.

And that silence?

That was louder than anything else.

Han’s laugh cracked. “Thought so.” He pushed lightly against Minho’s chest. “Let me go.”

Minho didn’t budge.

He stared.

Burning.

And then —

He kissed him.

Desperate. Punishing. Like trying to erase the months between them. Like trying to rewrite a past that had already written itself in scars. Han’s hands rose to push him — but they hesitated. Just for a second. Just long enough for Minho’s hand to find his jaw, keeping him there.

Just long enough for Han to remember how this used to feel.

When he did shove him back, it was with trembling fingers and a breathless voice. “Don't ever fucking do this again.”

Silence crackled between them.

Then a voice — too smooth, too timely — sliced through it:

“Well, this is interesting.”

Minho’s blood ran cold.

Han’s breath caught.

Hyunjin stood at the threshold, a cigarette between his fingers, one brow arched. There was no smile. No smirk.

Just something dark and knowing.

“What’s going on here, hyung?”

Han blinked hard, recovering first. He straightened, adjusted his shirt like nothing had happened, and walked past Minho with too much calm.

He stopped beside Hyunjin.

Paused.

Then leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek — soft and lingering.

“I’ll be waiting in your room,” he said quietly, then walked away, his retreat echoing in the silence like a bullet shell.

Hyunjin didn’t look at Minho at first.

He just stood there.

Smoking.

Then slowly, he turned, eyes meeting Minho’s. Flat. Dead calm. “Still think this little game of silence will save you?”

Minho stepped forward.

His fist curled into Hyunjin’s collar, dragging him forward until their faces were inches apart. “Stop this. Whatever the fuck you're doing—stop it.”

Hyunjin smiled.

Not kind.

Not cruel.

Just... tired.

“I warned you.”

“You’re ruining him.”

Hyunjin leaned in, close enough for Minho to smell the smoke on his breath. “No, Minho. You are. Every day you let them treat your life like a corporate strategy, you are.”

Minho’s jaw twitched.

Hyunjin’s voice lowered to a near-whisper. “Accept my offer.”

Minho didn’t speak.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

Again.

Hyunjin’s lips twitched with a humorless chuckle. “Of course.”

He stepped back, straightened his collar with a sigh, and turned to walk away.

Minho just stood there.

Frozen.

Haunted.

And alone.

---

[HYUNJIN’S ROOM - Moments Later]

Han was sprawled across Hyunjin’s bed, scrolling through his phone with a bored expression while Hyunjin stood by the window, lazily puffing on a cigarette.

“So, you actually wanna go out in public with me?” Han asked, his voice laced with sarcasm. “A real cinema? With real people?”

Hyunjin turned slightly, exhaling smoke toward the open window. “Exactly. I want Minho to watch us under neon lights.”

Han sat up. “Wow. That’s evil.”

“That’s effective.” Hyunjin flicked the ash into a tray. “It’s easy. I’ll ask everyone if they wanna catch a late-night movie — something stupid and loud, so the couples can’t talk over it.”

“Okay, okay,” Han said, rubbing his hands together like some drama-thirsty gremlin. “And seating?”

Hyunjin pulled out his phone, already tapping into the cinema’s booking system. “As soon as we get there, we pick the seats. Felix sits beside me. You sit on my other side. And Minho? He can only sit next to you.”

Han’s grin turned slow and sly. “You want him to watch me lean into you in the dark and whisper like a lovesick idiot?”

Hyunjin gave a short laugh. “More like let him imagine what I’m whispering back.”

Han snorted. “You’re gonna get me killed.”

“I’ll protect you,” Hyunjin said without blinking, then turned with that smug smirk again. “Unless he confesses before that. Then I’m handing you over.”

Han mock-glared. “Rude.”

Hyunjin just shrugged, lips twitching. “Welcome to the battlefield, baby.”

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