Archive of Our Own

Minseok didn’t want to be the kind of person who gawked at others, but there was a seriously hot guy sitting across from him at the library.

He had been playing League on his shitty laptop—200 ping, its internal fan whirring like a jet engine—when the man walked in. The library was empty, save for a few other students cramming for finals. Custard-yellow sunlight filled the room. Minseok was in the middle of an intense ranked match; however, his dreams of Diamond II were put on hold as the man took a seat at a table nearby.

He wore glasses with black, round frames perched high atop his nose. Upon settling down, he opened his laptop and began to type. The soft chatter of keycaps reached where Minseok sat. Minseok was immediately taken by his catlike features. His fringe fell over his brow in a linear fashion, styled in a three-fourths part. As he typed, the glare of his computer screen reflected on his glasses.

Onscreen, Minseok’s ADC farmed too close to the enemy turret and died, earning Ezreal at least twelve question-mark pings. But Minseok didn’t notice. His chemistry textbooks, already neglected, lay completely forgotten at his side.

He was still staring when the man suddenly reached into his bag. Minseok ducked. It looked stupid; there wasn’t anywhere to duck under, and in spectacular fashion, he slammed his shin against the leg of the table. Minseok hissed through his teeth and muttered a nasty word under his breath. Thankfully, the stranger didn’t seem to notice. He produced a textbook, a lanyard, and a plastic grocery bag, and placed them atop the table.

Minseok’s eyes landed on the lanyard first. It had a keycard with their university’s logo, as well as a student ID. He squinted at the text printed on it. Just then, he heard a crunch.

When Minseok looked up, he saw the man was eating broccoli.

What the…?

The man’s chewing was tolerable enough: polite, close-mouthed, nonchalant. It was the fact that he was holding a whole fucking head of broccoli—that made Minseok do a double take. Indeed, there within the stiff, green florets was a bite-shaped hole. Minseok watched as he held the broccoli stem in one hand and scrolled through PDFs with his other.

Who the hell is this guy? he thought in disbelief.

Minseok felt his nose bridge wrinkle as the man took another bite. His face showed no sign of disgust. If anything, he ate as naturally as one might’ve sipped a cup of coffee. Glancing down, Minseok noticed that his team had already started a surrender vote. When he looked back, the broccoli was nowhere to be seen. The man had resumed his typing like nothing had happened.

Blinking, Minseok rubbed his eyes with his fist. He wondered if the mental illness of his League teammates was catching up to him.

Did I imagine that? he thought, furrowing his brow. No, no—he really was eating broccoli a minute ago! I swear!

He looked back down at the plastic bag, only to find it gone. His gaze shifted elsewhere. Lying next to the man’s elbow, the cover of his textbook read “The Art of Computer Programming.” Minseok hummed in satisfaction.

Of course he’s a comp-sci major. He totally looks the part.

Glancing back at the lanyard, he read the man’s student ID: Lee Sanghyeok, department of something he couldn’t read. When his team inevitably FF’ed, Minseok opened their school’s student directory and searched for that exact name. The results came back with Sanghyeok’s profile, a third year student, two years older, and decorated national test-taker. Minseok’s attention lingered on his headshot. He wore the same black jean-jacket he had on today.

Upon realising what he was doing—stalking someone sitting across from him—Minseok quickly closed the tab and queued up for another game. Nothing was more on-brand for him than silent soloqueue in the library. Minseok’s leg bounced beneath the table. He kept glancing in Sanghyeok’s direction, then back at his game.

On one occasion, Minseok thought he saw Sanghyeok look up, to which he nearly broke his neck lowering his head to his screen. He found Sanghyeok had especially sharp eyes.

Fuck… he groaned internally. Did he see me? He must’ve seen me!

And yet he continued to steal glances at him. Minseok’s pupils darted between his game and Sanghyeok’s side profile. More than liking his appearance, secretly, he wanted to know if Sanghyeok had noticed him too. When he caught the man looking away at the last second, Minseok bit back a smile.

He’s totally looking at me! Shit, I should’ve changed my clothes before going out today…

Unconsciously, Minseok reached up and adjusted his cotton shirt collar.

Oh my God, he might be judging my hair. It’s probably messy as hell. Is my computer fan too loud? Should I move?

Game two was no better than the first one. Minseok’s screen turned grey as enemy jungle ganked botlane for the third time in a row. He had long muted game chat, so he could only imagine the kind of degenerate insults his teammates were hurling at him and his mother.

He sighed. When Minseok looked up—he saw Sanghyeok staring at him.

Minseok’s heart leapt to the back of his mouth. He froze, fingers hovering over the keyboard. As soon as their eyes met, Sanghyeok looked away, but the damage was already done. Like Stopwatch finally wearing off, Minseok’s thoughts took off running.

Again? He might actually be into me… No, you can’t say that! That’s weird! Still, I wonder how long he’s been staring for…

The muscles in Minseok’s face twitched as he tried holding a neutral expression. Without his consent, his mind began to play out crazy hypotheticals, borderline fantasies: coffee shop dates, hand-holding, what Sanghyeok might say once he found out what Minseok scored on his last math exam.

I bet he’d say something like ‘you’re such a dumbass’ and then tutor me on derivatives… God, what am I even thinking about?

The space between his lower back and t-shirt had reached dangerous temperatures. Minseok resisted the urge to clap both hands to his cheeks and shake some sense into himself. After looking away, Sanghyeok had clicked open a new tab and was typing furiously. Minseok could only wonder what he was working on.

Ah, seriously—this is driving me crazy!

Suddenly, in the corner of his eye, Minseok saw Sanghyeok turn his computer towards him. A thunderbolt of excitement flashed in his gut. With a flustered gleam in his eye, Minseok looked up and—

Huh?

Minseok paused.

He stared at Sanghyeok’s screen. On it, in white text on a black background, was one word:

“Hello.”

Sanghyeok was looking at him with a strange, blank expression, best described as an ‘NPC stare’ or the embodiment of the deadpan emoji. His feline lips formed a straight line. He didn’t blink once.

Minseok didn’t blink either. All he could do was stare; dumbfounded, concerned, and just a little scared, as Sanghyeok hit the ‘Space’ bar on his keyboard. The slideshow progressed.

“You must like playing games.”

Dead silence. Slowly, Minseok’s eyebrows furrowed together.

“Who are—?”

“Shh,” Sanghyeok whispered.

Sanghyeok brought a finger up to his lips. He did this so fast, it even rivalled the ‘F’ for Flash on Minseok’s keyboard. He hit the ‘Space’ bar again.

“I like playing games too.”

This time, the text appeared with a fade-in transition. Sanghyeok put one hand over his chest.

“Shall we—”

‘Space’ bar.

“Experience a wider world together?”

The previous slide folded itself into a 3-D origami crane and flew away, revealing those words in a 2001 Microsoft Power Point clusterfuck of transitions. As the next slide appeared, Sanghyeok removed his hand from his chest and made a sweeping motion, like the chauffeur of an expensive car. He nodded once and smiled wordlessly.

Finally, Minseok blinked.

“I don’t—”

“Shh.”

Sanghyeok tapped his finger over his lips, the gesture just as elegant as it was absurd. Minseok felt a headache coming on.

“Hey, you.” Minseok pointed at him and shook his hand. “Stop doing tha—”

“Shh.”

“Stop cutting m—”

“Shh.”

Slowly, Sanghyeok brought his hand to the side of his computer and did a thumbs-up. He nodded again. Minseok stared at the question onscreen. Held up next to it, Sanghyeok’s hand looked like someone had taped a picture to a popsicle stick and was putting on a puppet show.

Minseok’s face twisted up. He pointed at himself.

“Are you hitting on me?” he asked incredulously.

Sanghyeok smiled.

“Shhh.”

Later that week, Minseok decided to give up on reaching Diamond II and went for a walk at a nearby park. Per his teammates’ recommendation, he would ‘stop being ill’ and ‘touch some fucking grass’. The park walkway was wide and framed by a dense line of cherry trees. Their flowers had fully bloomed, filling the air with pink petals that fluttered gingerly to the ground.

Minseok squinted and shielded his eyes. The late-morning sun was out in full force. Above, the sky peeked through the gaps in the trees, azure blue against pale pink. He brushed the petals from his hair.

Taking a breath in, Minseok then exhaled. “Man…” he mumbled. “Am I ever gonna hit Diamond?”

The question he should have been asking was if he was going to pass his exams, but it didn’t occur to him which question was more important. With a sigh, Minseok put his hands in his pockets and set off towards the bus station. He’d been outside long enough. Ranked season would only last so long—and precious hours were slipping away beneath the cherry trees.

When Minseok arrived at the station, he sat down on a bench and pulled out his phone for some Wild Rift. He played until the bus arrived, only looking up once he heard the hiss of exhaust and the door swing open.

The air-conditioning hit him like a wall. Minseok got to his feet and was halfway to the bus when he felt a hand around his wrist.

He looked back.

It was Sanghyeok. Sanghyeok, beneath the full, brilliant sun, looking breathlessly sincere. A light breeze ruffled his hair. Around them, flower petals fell past and speckled the asphalt, a single petal settling atop Sanghyeok’s fringe. Minseok’s breath caught in his throat like a fist. His eyes widened. Nearby, the rumble of the bus faded to silence.

Sanghyeok spoke slowly.

“I’m in love—”

The world ground to a halt. He had a marvellous voice.

“—with gaming.”

A pause.

“What?” blurted Minseok.

“Hey, mister,” the bus driver called out. “Are you getting on or—?”

Sanghyeok held a slim finger up to his lips. “Shh.”

The bus driver blinked. Sanghyeok continued to hold his wrist. Minseok gave him a sideways look; he tried not to think about the feeling of Sanghyeok’s fingers, or the slight warmth he emanated. Instead, a single thought echoed in his head:

Who is this weirdo?

“I’m a man of my word,” Sanghyeok said evenly. He spoke with crisp dictation. “I want to express my unconditional feelings to you.”

It was no use. Minseok’s heartbeat sped up to a painful degree, so fast he worried Sanghyeok would be able to see it pounding within his chest. Those words sounded like something straight out of a TV drama. It then occurred to Minseok that he had said “to you” instead of “for you.”

“Wait, what do you mea—?”

But Sanghyeok had already broken into an excited run, dragging Minseok behind him with his regrettably shorter legs.

“Are you having fun?”

Minseok had asked this passive-aggressively, but it seemed Sanghyeok didn’t get the cue. After sprinting all the way down the street to a nearby mall, the man led him into a Google store to show him their newest phone model, or something of the like. Sanghyeok had explained its techy software with a big smile on his face, and Minseok didn’t have the heart to cut him off. As he rambled about the perks of a top-tier processor like Snapdragon 8 Elite, eyes alight, hands animated, Minseok found himself edging closer to where he stood.

Now, however, Sanghyeok was busy showing off the refresh rate display of a Google phone, and Minseok was getting impatient. It had already been an hour and a half.

Sanghyeok’s fingers danced over the screen. “Wanna play?” he replied absently.

“No.” Minseok crossed his arms. “I’m sorry, but I think I need to go now. Unless you want to do something else.”

“What else would you like to do?” asked Sanghyeok. He put down the phone and looked up at him.

Minseok hesitated. A million things came to mind. “Er, well…”

“We could choose a place to eat. Or we could head to the library.”

Recalling how Sanghyeok had eaten a whole head of raw broccoli, Minseok felt that whatever restaurant he chose would surely kill him. The library didn’t sound appealing either. All the books only reminded him of how much studying he wasn’t doing.

“I’m not hungry,” he responded, “and why the library? Don’t people just study there?”

“You play League,” Sanghyeok pointed out.

Minseok blushed. “That’s, well…” he trailed off. “All guys do that. Besides, I didn’t bring my computer today. I don’t wanna hit the books.”

At that, Sanghyeok tilted his head, deeply puzzled. The action reminded Minseok of a cat. He told himself it wasn’t endearing. Sanghyeok thought for a long, long time. Finally:

“Hm. I’m not sure what to do, then.”

“Eh?” scoffed Minseok. “Is that all you do? Eat food and study?”

Sanghyeok nodded. “Of course. And games, when I have time.”

The computer-science major stereotype was turning out to be terribly true. In the back of his mind, this pleased Minseok. For some reason, he found Sanghyeok’s straight-laced lifestyle and raw intelligence—strange social skills or not—a rare catch. He wondered if he could help him with his chemistry, or math problems.

Minseok was just about to bring this up when Sanghyeok grabbed his wrist again.

“That’s it,” said Sanghyeok, already leading him out of the store. “I just thought of something.”

Sanghyeok couldn’t have seen it, but Minseok’s entire face was now a light shade of pink. “What?” he mumbled in reply. “Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

Minseok didn’t know what he expected. A part of him had hoped for a shop that sold cute figurines, or a hidden gem of a restaurant. What he didn’t expect—was one of those promotional kiosks that let you play a mini-game for free stuff if you signed up for a rewards program, or looked at their product. In this case, the kiosk asked them to take a brochure in exchange for popping balloons with darts.

“Step right up, everyone!” a young man at the booth called out. His name tag read ‘Siwoo’, and he had a wide, charming grin. “Take a shot at our balloon game! You’ll have a chance at these awesome prizes!”

“I saw this place when we were coming in,” Sanghyeok explained. “I thought it looked fun.”

Minseok couldn’t hide his disappointment. Mentally, he face-palmed; of course Sanghyeok would find a promotional event for Waterpik ‘fun’. Siwoo’s eyes darted between the two of them. Then, in a voice louder than before:

“You there!” He pointed at Sanghyeok with a smile. “Why don’t you give it a go? You can win a stuffed animal for your date over there.”

Minseok’s eyes widened. He stared at Siwoo, ears growing pinker than before. Sanghyeok didn’t notice. Before Minseok could open his mouth to clarify things, Sanghyeok was already accepting the brochure Siwoo held out.

“Thank you,” he said.

Siwoo laughed. “Don’t mention it.” He glanced back at Minseok, and Minseok swore he was doing this on purpose. “It’s thirty balloons for a mini stuffed animal, fifty for a medium one. If you pop eighty of them—” he wheeled his arm around and gestured exaggeratedly at a stuffed animal as big as Minseok himself, “we’ll give you this bad boy.”

“Thirty?” Minseok objected. He looked at the large wall of balloons behind them. “Isn’t that like, a lot?”

“Think of it as a test of skill,” Siwoo said smoothly.

Minseok knew this was simply a tactic to make sure they didn’t lose money on prizes, but Sanghyeok seemed oblivious.

“I see.” he nodded and picked up a basket full of darts. Sanghyeok stepped back. Minseok watched as he went still, hand poised in the air, unblinking. For a moment it seemed someone paused the flow of time.

Then, one by one, he began to throw them.

Minseok couldn’t believe his eyes. In a matter of seconds, ten balloons were gone. Sanghyeok was ruthlessly accurate. With as little movement as possible, the dart disappeared from his fingers and speared multiple balloons at a time. The air filled with the sound of popping. Stunned, Minseok and Siwoo could only stare as he threw.

Eventually, the last rubbery dreg of a balloon fell to the ground. Sanghyeok had popped the entire wall with two more darts to spare.

Siwoo blinked. Smugly, Minseok turned to him with his arms over his chest.

“Well?” He smirked.

Siwoo slowly un-froze. “Well I’ll be,” he said with a disbelieving grin. “You’ve got a scripter for a boyfriend, haven’t you?”

Ten minutes later, Minseok was hauling a massive koala plushie in his arms. Sanghyeok offered to carry it for him, but Minseok felt too proud (and had gotten too attached) to let it go. He found the choice of animal to be strange—in fact, he had actually hoped for one of the medium-sized teddy bears—but found koalas sufficiently cute.

By then, it was well into the afternoon. Minseok had spent the majority of his day with Sanghyeok instead of gaming, which had been his original plan. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel too much regret over this.

The two walked together down the side of a busy street. Hordes of people swerved around them, hurrying back from work, or school, or from wasting time much like they had been doing. Minseok kept stealing glances at Sanghyeok. It was hard due to the massive koala in his arms, obscuring his vision, forcing him to crane his neck over its ears. Eventually, he thrust the plushie in Sanghyeok’s direction, which the man carried for him without a word.

“Hey,” said Minseok. “Why are you doing this?”

Sanghyeok stared ahead. The sky bled into a soft pink above. “Hm?”

“You heard me.”

“Well, it’s because I want to show you my love…”

Minseok nearly tripped over a crack in the sidewalk.

“...For gaming.”

“Eh?”

“I thought I’d tell you about the newest Google phone. It’s perfect for mobile gaming. If you get the Play Pass, you can also play mobile games on PC.”

What is he talking about? scoffed Minseok in his mind. Is this an advertisement or something?

“Huh?” said Minseok derisively. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Well, I saw you playing Wild Rift earlier. It’s a mobile game, isn’t it?”

Sanghyeok shouldered the koala higher. “You looked so happy while playing, I figured you’d be interested in higher quality optics. So I brought you there.”

Minseok’s breath caught in his throat. His heart sped up, and his face began to burn again. He wondered if Sanghyeok knew the effect his words had on him.

“Oh,” Minseok stammered. “I see.”

They walked the rest of the way to the bus stop in silence, leaving Minseok to wonder what on Earth Sanghyeok really loved.

The plastic-y scent had still yet to fade from the stuffed koala’s fur when the two met again. Minseok was getting on the train when he spotted Sanghyeok through the sliding doors. Briefly, he contemplated running away and waiting for the next one, but the tyrant in him refused.

So what, Minseok fumed, if he’s a damn weirdo. I’m not gonna let him make me late!

And so as the doors slid open, he stepped towards the train. Sanghyeok saw him immediately. He was standing upright, holding one of the straps hanging from the ceiling.

Minseok’s mouth felt dry as Sanghyeok smiled at him.

How many times would they run into each other by chance like this? It seems that all roads he took eventually led him to Sanghyeok.

Could this be destiny or something? thought Minseok.

Just then, as he was entering the train, a man suddenly stood up from his seat. A chime sounded, signaling the doors were about to close. He clutched his phone tightly in one hand.

“Oh, crap!” he muttered. “This is my stop—!”

Minseok was still hung up on pondering “destiny or something,” so he didn’t see the man coming until it was too late. Time slowed down. The man crashed into Minseok’s shoulder while rushing out the train, phone flying out of hand as he barely regained his balance. Minseok was thrown to the ground. As he fell, the ground seemed to approach at a snail’s pace. Oddly enough, he felt no panic. Each second that passed, surely, he thought, someone could reach out and pull him up.

Yet there was no sign of that help. Twelve milliseconds in, he thought, any time now.

Out of the corner of his eye, Minseok thought he saw a black blur roll past him right before he hit the ground. Then, his back and shoulders flattened against the linoleum. A hollow thump reverberated in his chest.

Minseok laid on the ground for a moment, dazed. He stared up at the ceiling and its crash-grade laminate plastic.

That’s when he heard an all-too familiar voice:

“Here’s your phone back, ahjussi.”

A brief pause. “Oh—er, thank you. But is your friend…?”

“Hm?”

The doors' alarms began to beep faster, signaling they were going to shut. “It’s fine,” murmured the man. “Again, thanks.”

Minseok continued to stare, unmoving, unblinking. He knew exactly what was coming next. Soon, a hand appeared in the centre of his vision.

“Are you okay?”

Sanghyeok was standing over him, that same odd feline expression on his face, not quite indifferent but definitely not normal. Struggling up onto his elbows, Minseok looked at him with disbelief. Then, his upper lip curled. His hands became fists at his sides.

“You…” Minseok began. He got up onto his knees, then his feet. “You crazy—!”

Slowly, it occurred to Sanghyeok that he might have fucked up by saving the man’s phone instead of Minseok’s spine. He didn’t have time to explain that of the two, he’d simply reached for the one that was closer and falling faster. He didn’t have time to explain—because as soon as Minseok was standing, Sanghyeok took off running down the train car. Unfortunately, the man was smart: he too knew exactly what was coming.

Minseok broke into a mad dash after him.

“Hey!” he cried. “Stop running!” His words were broken up by panting. “You’re so dead!”

He couldn’t have seen, but as Sanghyeok disappeared into the next car, the pleased, breathless grin on his face said it all:

Can’t catch me, can you?

Later that week, Minseok decided to dispel some stress at a PC Bang. If he wasn’t winning his matches at home, he figured playing League on an actual PC—and not his shitty, loud laptop—would possibly get him to Diamond tier.

The sun was golden and low that evening. Pushing the door open, Minseok heard the chime of a bell.

“Welcome!” a distant voice called out, likely one of the part timers. Minseok replied with an absent nod. Just then, his eyes landed on one of the PCs close to the door.

Sanghyeok was seated in front of it, headphones on, displaying perfectly straight posture. He turned towards Minseok. Light streamed into the café from the open door, causing Sanghyeok to squint. He brought a hand up to his face and shielded his eyes. The way it caught on the planes of his face, illuminating his lips, his skin, his glossy fringe—was undeniably attractive. His eyes looked warm brown in direct sunlight.

Upon seeing Minseok, he smiled.

Minseok panicked. Looking away, he gripped the side of his neck and pretended not to see him. After selecting the furthest PC from the door, he took a seat and sighed. It seemed that him and Sanghyeok—two game-crazy idiots in their own ways—were somehow fated after all.

Slipping on the provided headphones, Minseok’s anxiety lessened. He followed his usual order at a PC Bang: log on to League, order food, and eat like shit whilst waiting for queue to pop. The cheapest options were ramyeon and tteokbokki on a stick, so he added them to his tab. Queue hooked him up with a match, and the game came and went. Minseok was satisfied to see his game performance increase when playing on PC.

The food came sooner than expected. Upon finishing his game, a part-timer set a glossy green plate down before him.

“Here’s your order,” she said.

Minseok slipped off his headphones. “Thank you,” he replied lightly. Picking up the stick, he stared down at the sausages and tteokbokki. They were lathered in some kind of red sauce. “Looks yummy…” he whispered to himself.

His lips were barely a breath away from taking a bite when he felt a presence near his shoulder. Minseok looked up.

Sanghyeok was standing at the side of the desk with a silly, cattish look on his face. His lips were somewhere between a smile and a straight line. Minseok tried to get a read on his eyes, but they were totally unreadable.

“Can I have a bite?” Sanghyeok asked.

Minseok stared at him. His precious skewer hovered midair.

“Just to see how it tastes.” That dumb smile. “Please?”

Moments later, Minseok watched as Sanghyeok set a bare skewer down on his plate. The only indication of his tteokbokki ever existing was a red tinge to the wood.

“Delicious,” murmured Sanghyeok. Minseok continued to stare at his desecrated skewer, even as Sanghyeok walked away. The man hadn’t left him a single bite. Just before he could disappear, Minseok stole a glance at him. He swore he heard him whisper something aloud, sounding like ‘approved,’ or ‘pass.’

Unconsciously, Minseok wore a huge pout as he turned around in his chair. “Unbelievable…” he muttered in disbelief.

Not a few minutes later, a voice to his left spoke. “Here’s your order,” the same part-timer said, setting a bowl of ramyeon down in front of him. Two chopsticks laid across its rim. Inhaling, Minseok brought a waterfall of noodles to his lips and blew on them. The aroma smelled heavenly.

Man, he thought, nothing beats PC Bang ramyeon—

A small cough on his right. Minseok looked up.

“Can I have a bite?”

Minseok stared as Sanghyeok placed a completely empty bowl beside his keyboard. It had scarcely been five minutes, yet he’d left no trace of his ramyeon behind. In the back of his mind, Minseok wondered if the man was some kind of void grub, or cousin of Vel’Koz, seeing how he ate.

Hey… he thought, his mind slowly coming un-stuck. This has to be some kind of joke. Right?

Sanghyeok wore a pleased, close-lipped smile as he stepped away. His upper lip shone dully, likely from slurping ramyeon broth at Mach 9 speeds. He set Minseok’s chopsticks down inside the bowl.

“Approved,” he said. “You have good taste.” And then he began walking away.

Minseok’s face had twisted up in outrage: brow furrowed, mouth agape.

“Hey!” he called after him. His leg bounced beneath the table. “Does no one feed you at home?” But he received no reply. Bringing his fist back, Minseok hissed through his teeth and did a fake lunge out of his chair.

“Crazy bastard—!” This was followed by a punching motion, directed at the back of Sanghyeok’s head.

Minseok couldn’t have heard him, but as Sanghyeok walked towards the door, he whispered something under his breath.

“Huh…” Sanghyeok put a finger beneath his chin. “So he really is kind.” Then, he smiled:

“Approved.”

Many evenings later, Sanghyeok saw a shorter man walk past him while leaving class. The weather outside felt idyllic, with the sun throwing golden rays across cobblestone. All of its light seemed to be trapped around the man’s retreating silhouette.

Sanghyeok stared at the back of his head. The flyaways of his hair were illuminated in a fiery auburn. Several keychains jangled as he walked. He didn’t need to see his face to know it was Minseok. Along with a variety of Hello-Kitty trinkets, a large Bard Meep plush swung from his backpack.

Stopping in his tracks, Sanghyeok watched as Minseok disappeared into a nearby campus coffee shop. He paused for a moment. Groups of people walked past, shouldering bags, or holding covered drinks. A strange, pensive look settled on his face: unblinking, lips parted, as the sun warmed his left cheek. He continued to look in Minseok’s direction. His shoulders rose and fell in a silent sigh.

Eventually, Sanghyeok followed Minseok into the coffee shop.

He found the man seated at a table, laptop open, having just gotten a game, spamming pings on enemy jungle. His back faced towards him, meaning Sanghyeok was free to observe Minseok’s gameplay for a moment. Minseok’s cursor danced around the map, camera locked on his champion. An iced latte sat sweating next to his elbow.

Watching him proved less than productive. Each time Sanghyeok tried focusing on Minseok’s ults, his eyes wandered to the back of his neck instead. Minseok occasionally reached up and pinched the space beneath his jaw. His leg bounced beneath the table, and when he let out a quiet yelp as an Ashe arrow flew through the teamfight, Sanghyeok couldn’t help but smile.

Walking up behind Minseok’s table, he called out absently. “You play League?” Sanghyeok began.

Minseok whipped around to face him. His eyes widened for a brief moment, and he blinked. Sanghyeok noticed the beauty mark beneath his right eye.

“Hey!” he exclaimed in surprise. Then: “Oh, well, er—” Minseok paused, sounding embarrassed. He shielded his computer screen with one hand. “Yeah. I kind of suck, though.”

Sanghyeok nodded. “Your runes are weird.”

At that, Minseok’s lips became a straight line. He dropped his eyebrows and stared at him from beneath his eyelids. “Why are you here?” Minseok asked flatly. “And no, I’m not giving you my coffee. Buy some yourself.”

“No, no.” Sanghyeok shook his head. “I was just limit-testing last time. I won’t take your food today.”

“Limit-testing? What is this, League?”

Instead of replying, Sanghyeok invited himself to the table. Minseok watched as he pulled out a chair directly across from him and set his bag on the floor.

“It’s ranked season, isn’t it?” Sanghyeok folded his hands together in front of him. “Are you trying to get promoted?”

Minseok’s lower lip jutted out. He had tuned his attention back to his game. “Mhm. Now be quiet for a second. This is a ranked match.”

“But aren’t you zero-nine in fifteen minutes?”

“Shhh.”

And so Sanghyeok watched as Minseok tapped away on his keyboard, brow furrowed, chewing his lower lip. He could tell whenever Minseok died from his little groans, or the sharp hissing noises he made. Sanghyeok didn’t look away from his face as he spoke.

“You know, I saw you playing League the first time we met.”

“Hmm?” Minseok was frowning at his toplaner, who had just gotten put into the ground. “Really?”

“I’ve seen you playing it a lot. At the PC Bang, or sitting at the bus stop. After that, I kept looking for you around campus.”

“Huh.” Minseok tilted his head to one side. He was still focused on his game.

“You were always smiling when gaming.”

“Smiling? I don’t know—I’m pretty sure my team was always griefing me.”

“But you were,” Sanghyeok insisted. “Was it from the first moment I saw you? That my everyday life began to feel different…” He was sitting closer to the table now. “It’s funny how we keep running into each other.”

Minseok chewed the inside of his cheek. For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, he sat back in his chair and groaned loudly. His screen had turned grey. With a slight pout, he watched as the enemy team cracked open his Nexus, sending a flurry of red shards around the word ‘Defeat’.

“Ah—damnit!” he whined, crossing his arms over his chest. Minseok glared at his display. “These guys, seriously…! It’s like as soon as ranked season starts, they stop knowing how to act human.”

“What rank are you?”

Minseok’s eyes flickered up to Sanghyeok. “Emerald II…” he mumbled, clearly not happy about it.

“I see.”

“What about you? You play too, don’t you?”

“Oh, me?” Sanghyeok pointed at himself. “I’m Challenger.”

The screech which followed caused everyone in the cafe to pause and turn to look at them. The room went silent.

“Challenger?!” Minseok sat bolt upright in his chair. He put both palms on the table, and with wide eyes, he leaned breathlessly close to Sanghyeok. “No way! No fucking way! Show me your account, dude!”

Clearing his throat, Sanghyeok pulled Minseok’s computer over to type in his game ID. All the while, Minseok hovered near his shoulder, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Sanghyeok could feel the excitement radiating from his body. When he finally pulled up his account, Minseok yanked his laptop close and stuck his face mere centimetres from the screen. His arm came dangerously close to touching Sanghyeok’s elbow. Without Minseok noticing, Sanghyeok shifted to the right.

“Oh my God…” Minseok breathed, eyes big as saucers. His irises glimmered with admiration. “You’re actually Challenger? Holy shit, I mean—that’s like, top one percent in Korea, right?”

“Globally,” Sanghyeok corrected him. His neck had started to heat up. “In Korea, it’s the top few hundred players.”

“Only one hundred?”

Minseok had finally turned to face him. He was smiling—wide, joyous, with an invisible tail practically wagging behind him. “Hyung,” Minseok began, “add me on League. Please? Seriously, I can’t believe someone’s Challenger on campus.”

Sanghyeok cleared his throat again. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sure…”

Satisfied, Minseok flounced over to the other side of the table. When he sat down, he pulled his chair close to its edge, leaning towards Sanghyeok. He put his arms atop the wood and stared intently at him.

“How long have you been playing?” Minseok asked. “What do you main? Jungle? Top? Which champions do you play the most? Are you an Azir main?”

Visibly overwhelmed by his questions, Sanghyeok paused before responding. “Ten years?” he replied. “I’ve been playing since it came out. I mainly go mid. As for champions…”

Glancing up, he saw how Minseok was waiting for his answer with bated breath.

“I don’t know. I basically play everything.”

“Everything?” Somehow, Minseok’s eyes grew even wider. “You mean, you don’t have to think about if you can play a champion before picking it?”

“Essentially, yes—”

“That’s so cool!” Minseok exclaimed, knee accidentally hitting the bottom of the table. “Like just knowing how to play everything. Man, Challengers players are just on another level.”

“What about you?” asked Sanghyeok.

“Me?” Minseok’s face immediately fell. He frowned. “I can only really play four champions. Usually, I just go with Bard. I think he’s the most fun.”

“I can tell,” said Sanghyeok gesturing to the Meep on Minseok’s backpack. “You have a nice keychain there.”

This clearly caught Minseok off guard. Blinking once, he struggled to find a reply. “Oh?” he blurted, eyebrows shooting upwards. His expression went from one of awe to something less readable. The very tips of his ears began to turn pink. “You noticed?”

Sanghyeok nodded in reply. “It’s cute. I like it.”

“Ah—” Minseok brought his arm up to his face. He averted his eyes. “You uh, you can get it off Ebay, since they stopped selling them on the Riot store. And thanks.”

Minseok couldn’t meet his eye anymore. Noticing this, Sanghyeok wondered if he’d said something wrong. “It goes well with your other keychains,” Sanghyeok continued. “Do you like cute things?”

“Well, you could say that…”

“It makes sense. I think that fits you well.”

For some reason, this made Minseok even more shy. “Huh,” he mumbled, turning his head to one side. “Thanks. You too.”

“Me too?” Sanghyeok cocked his head.

“I mean—!” Minseok stuck his hands out, “thanks, me too. Or no—just thanks. Yeah.”

“You’re welcome,” Sanghyeok said, nodding sagely.

Their conversation progressed in a similar manner. Mostly, Sanghyeok couldn’t figure out why Minseok was so peculiar about looking at him. He knew he was stealing glances, noticing each time Minseok’s eyes darted to his face, but as soon as Sanghyeok met his eye, Minseok looked away. It was only when their conversation arrived back at League that he emerged from his shell.

“So how are your ranked games going?” asked Sanghyeok. “Not very well, I presume?”

At that, Minseok let out an exaggerated groan and threw his head back. He sank deeper into his chair. “If only you knew…” he muttered. “I’ve been on an eight-game loss streak since yesterday. And every time I win, it’s like I lose three more.” Minseok huffed through his nose. “I’ll never reach Diamond at this rate.”

“If you want, I can help you.”

Minseok perked up. As if jolted from his seat by an electrical current, he straightened his spine and leaned across the table. “You’d do that?” he asked, sounding excited. His leg began to jiggle under the table again. “Like—for real?”

“Sure.” Sanghyeok nodded. “Ranking up isn’t hard. You just need to fix a few things.”

“Hell yeah!” Minseok cheered, fake-pumping his fist. He broke into a wide smile. “You promised, alright? But first, accept my friend request.” Minseok pointed a finger at him. “I wanna tell all my friends I’ve got a Challenger player on my friend list.”

Sanghyeok blinked rapidly. “Er, of course.”

Satisfied, Minseok lowered his finger. “Perfect. I’m gonna check as soon as I get back home. So don’t waste time or anything.”

“Don’t worry,” Sanghyeok reassured him. “I’m a man of my word.”

Minseok put a hand down on the table. His expression suddenly grew serious. “Okay, so about my runes,” he began. “You said they looked ‘weird’, right? What’s wrong with them?”

“A lot,” Sanghyeok deadpanned. He recalled how Minseok had opened his runes a few times while playing. “For one, you’re just copying ‘highest win rate’ pages without adjusting for lane matchup, or team comp. You’re taking greedy scaling runes, like Magical Footwear, when you actually need early survivability. Also—”

Sanghyeok was talking a mile a minute now, “stop taking runes that don’t match how you play. You take defensive runes, but then constantly force all-ins that you’re not optimised for. Of course you’ll lose that way.”

As he spoke, Minseok’s expression grew more and more depressed. By the time Sanghyeok finished, it was as if a thick, purple cloud of gloom had enveloped him. Shoulders sagging, Minseok spoke in a low warble.

“...So you’re saying my runes are fucked?” he said dejectedly.

Sanghyeok realised he’d gotten too excited. “Er, no, no,” he reassured him, panicking, “that’s—uh, normal. All players start out with suboptimal runes. Here, I can send you what I recommend later.”

“Really?” Minseok straightened up.

“Really,” said Sanghyeok. “Don’t worry. From what I’ve seen, you have serious potential.” He exhaled. “Bard is one of the hardest supports to master. I’m impressed that you main him so well.”

Surely, the way Minseok’s expression changed so quickly—one moment sulking, the next completely ecstatic—would send Sanghyeok’s heart back to the fountain. In true critical hit-fashion, Minseok smiled. A shy, prepossessing grin spread across his face: the corners of his mouth turned downwards, as if his smile were an intruder forcing its way onto his expression. He blushed. And yet for all his embarrassment, his eyes were alight. The glimmer in those irises was unlike any light Sanghyeok had seen before.

“Ah… thanks.” Minseok continued to smile as he spoke. He tried wrangling his face back to its neutral state, but failed miserably. “That’s pretty huge coming from you. I thought I sucked all this time.”

Sanghyeok was at a loss for words. The sun colluded with Minseok’s smile; it illuminated the planes of his face, causing his skin to look both impossibly soft and golden. The brown in his eyes shone like amber.

He exhaled. For a moment, it seemed he was struggling to make up his mind. Finally:

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

Minseok tilted his head. “What is it?”

Sanghyeok rubbed the back of his neck even harder. He looked away. Suddenly, eye contact became impossible. “Well, ever since I saw you in the library, I haven’t been able to forget how you looked when you won a match.” Sanghyeok paused.

“I liked seeing your smile, you know?”

Another pause, this time lengthier.

“I’m not the best at expressing myself, so I suppose we got off on the wrong foot.” Sanghyeok fidgeted with his hands. “But I really did try my best. Through games, I found myself being drawn to you.”

He breathed out. “So, Minseok,” he began quietly. “I was thinking…”

All of a sudden, it became difficult to swallow. Minseok was completely still. With Herculean effort, Sanghyeok continued to speak.

“Maybe we…”

“We…?”

“Maybe we could—”

“Holy shit! Is that Karina from the famous K-pop idol group Aespa?”

Both Sanghyeok and Minseok whipped around to look to their right. A man had stood up from his table and was pointing at something out the window. They turned to their left.

It was at that moment an absolute goddess of a woman walked past, followed by a troupe of cameras and boom-mics running after her. If good looks equaled high elo, then Sanghyeok figured she would be number one on the Challenger leaderboard, which was the only way he could quantify attractiveness. Her yellow cardigan and light-wash jeans gave her a refreshing, fairylike air under the waning, gilded sun. Glancing absently at the coffee shop window, Karina offered a small smile and a wave to the people inside. And so she breezed past.

Sanghyeok watched as from out of nowhere, a flurry of white flower petals followed in her wake. The cafe burst into commotion.

“Wait, is that Karina?”

“Karina—like the idol?”

“Didn’t you hear that man? Who the fuck else could it be?”

“Holy shit!”

Glancing around, Sanghyeok watched as all normal functions of the cafe were put on pause. People stared in disbelief, frozen, through the large window front where Karina once blessed their existence, if only for a brief moment. Sanghyeok blinked.

“Who is…?”

“Wow, it’s Karina!”

Minseok, along with a few other people, jumped up from their seats. Nearby, a woman began to sob uncontrollably. A man who had been pouring milk into his coffee now had a white puddle in his lap—which was hopefully just milk—as his hand stayed frozen in place, trembling. Despite it being silent before, somewhere in the back, a full tenor choir began belting Ave Maria at the top of their lungs, rattling pastry plates.

“Holy crap, Sanghyeok!” Minseok had put both palms down on the table and was staring out the window in disbelief. “That was Karina! It was really her!”

Sanghyeok looked behind him. “Where did the choir come from…?” he wondered.

“Oh my god! Am I dreaming? No way she’s actually here!”

“Do we…do we even have a choir at this university?”

“I’m such a fan of Aespa! Wait, do I have a pen in my bag? Hold on—”

“Why are there white doves flying around?

“Aha!”

With a flourish, Minseok produced a pink pen from the bottom of his bag with googly eyes. Its rubbery, spiky topping boggled around. It looked Sanghyeok in the eye apologetically.

“Hold on…” a pensive look passed over Minseok’s face. “I don’t know if I can ask for her autograph with this. Can I borrow a pen from you, hyung?”

Sanghyeok looked helplessly between the cloud of flower petals outside and Minseok’s exhilarated, eager expression. The Ave Maria in the background made it sound like the entire coffee shop was ascending to the heavens. Finally, with a small sigh, he produced a ballpoint pen from his bag.

“Here. But um, could we maybe talk later—?”

Just then, the excited voice of a girl cut through the din, rising even above the singing tenors. “Guys!” he cried, “look what just got posted on the school messaging board!” She shook her friend by their shoulder. “Apparently Karina’s here to talk to the second-year marketing class!”

“Marketing…?” Minseok murmured, eyes widening. “Wait—isn’t that my next period?”

And with that, Sanghyeok’s hopes of finishing his last sentence were smited to death. He watched as Minseok hurried to pack his laptop into his bag.

“Even if I don’t get her autograph, I’m just happy to see her…” Minseok murmured aloud.

“Are you a K-pop fan?” Sanghyeok asked.

Minseok swung his backpack over his left shoulder. “Are you kidding?” he laughed, smiling with excitement. “I’m like—a total fanboy.”

For some reason, seeing Minseok smile at Karina’s appearance made Sanghyeok’s stomach drop. He’d smiled just as widely when Sanghyeok complimented his Bard skills. Minseok waved once, keychains jangling behind him as he hurried out the coffee shop.

“Sorry!” he called over his shoulder. “Talk to you later!”

And with the chime of the door swinging shut, Minseok was gone. Sanghyeok stared across the table. Minseok’s iced latte stood exactly where it had been the whole time, melted and forgotten. The tenors had stopped singing and were now filing out the shop entrance after the storekeeper realised they weren’t going to be buying coffee.

Sanghyeok sighed. “Man…” he murmured. “So is it me, or Karina?”

The next day, Minseok clutched a bouquet of pansies to his chest as he sprinted full speed down the campus courtyard.

He might have lost a pansy or two whilst running, but he didn’t care. After stopping to buy Sanghyeok a bouquet, he’d gotten caught up in the line and was five minutes late to their meeting. Sanghyeok (to his surprise) had accepted his friend request on League as soon as he’d sent it. Minseok had gotten home from Karina’s lecture and DM'ed him, fingers shaking, and received an immediate reply. The man wanted to meet Minseok under the large willow by the wooden benches.

Minseok wondered if Sanghyeok knew that was the ‘couples tree’, dubbed by students as the place where people confessed. He wondered if he was making a big mistake. He had bought the bouquet, feeling as if he’d throw it away out of embarrassment at any moment.

What the hell am I doing? Minseok thought dazedly. The wind whistled in his ears. A few people turned to look at him as he booked it past them.

The night before, he had laid in bed thinking of Sanghyeok, turning their sweet, rather absurd interactions around in his head like a smooth stone. Sure, Sanghyeok used Microsoft Power Point, and talked funny, and stole his ramyeon—but Minseok couldn’t lie. He liked it. He liked how Sanghyeok noticed his Bard keychain, or carried the stuffed animal from the darts game. Awkward, yes. But earnest.

Additionally, the thought of Sanghyeok watching Minseok from afar, smiling after some fifteen minute win, made his face heat up. He’d had no idea beforehand. It thrilled him to know the man he could hardly look in the eye—could hardly look away from him.

Hugging the giant koala plushie Sanghyeok had won for him while lying in bed, Minseok made a no-good, very bad, silly little decision.

Now, nearing the tree, his thoughts wandered in a different direction. He felt terrible for interrupting Sanghyeok in the coffee shop. It seemed like he’d wanted to say something important, though he had no idea what it could be. However, before he could dwell on this for long, Minseok spotted a figure standing beneath the willow tree. He slowed to a jog.

Sanghyeok looked marvellous—arguably just as divine as Karina with her Ave Maria entourage—having dressed for the occasion. He’d meticulously styled his hair and wore a navy jean jacket, paired with a cardigan beneath. Entranced, Minseok gazed at his side profile. The waterfalls of willow leaves swayed in the wind, hanging close to the ground, making a soft whush-whush noise. Standing beneath the tree, it was as if they had entered a bubble of soft green light.

Hearing him approach, Sanghyeok turned to look in his direction. Minseok’s breath caught in his throat. Their eyes met.

“Hi,” Minseok began lamely. To his despair, he was so out of breath, it sounded more like a geriatric wheeze.

Sanghyeok looked him up and down. “You must have run here pretty fast,” he observed.

“How…” Minseok panted, trying his best to sound sarcastic, “how did you know?”

“Well for one, you’ve got a little antenna.” Sanghyeok pointed to his own hair, gesturing that Minseok had a cowlick from the wind.

“Oh, crap—” he brought a hand up to his head.

“Hold still.”

Before he could so much as blink, Sanghyeok reached out and smoothed the top of his hair. His touch felt impossibly light, like the kiss of a butterfly. Minseok noticed how he had exceptionally graceful fingers. The gesture was casual; Sanghyeok must have touched him on a whim. Still, Minseok felt his cheeks begin to radiate heat.

“There we go.” Sanghyeok’s pupils darted from Minseok’s hair to his face. His expression was focused, like a cat staring intently at passerbys. “Your hair seems to get messy easily.”

Minseok blinked. His chest ached. “Uh,” he said with supreme intelligence. “I see. Then I’ll bring a condom next time.”

“A condom?”

“I meant—a comb!” Minseok yelped, horrified at his Freudian slip. “A comb! Shit, I didn’t mean to say…” His blush was nearing near-deadly levels.

“Hm.” Sanghyeok tilted his head at him. “It’s okay. We all mispronounce things.”

“Right,” Minseok agreed hastily. Just then, he spotted something behind Sanghyeok’s back. “What have you got there?” he asked.

“Oh, these? These—” with a satisfied flourish, Sanghyeok revealed something that made Minseok’s mind stop dead in his tracks:

A bouquet. A damned bouquet, made up entirely of bright red roses, with petals so fresh and vibrant they looked like CGI. They burst outwards from their brown parchment. Nestled right in the centre, Sanghyeok had tucked a small, blue, plastic whale.

“—these are flowers,” Sanghyeok finished. “They look like Blast Cones. Don’t you think so?”

Minseok didn’t think roses looked remotely like Blast Cones, save for their colour, but the effect was the same anyway. Embarrassingly, a bouquet of Blast Cones was all it took to win his heart.

“I think they’re more like Blood Roses,” Minseok replied after a moment. He stared down into the petals. “They’re supposed to be the same, aren’t they?”

“But those were released on Patch 25 of Season One.”

“Were they?”

Sanghyeok nodded sagely. “They’re not around anymore. I would never give you a discontinued plant on the Rift.”

Fuck, he’s so stupid.

Minseok swallowed. “Thanks.” For a moment, he forgot what he was going to say. “Um, but what about the whale?” He pointed to the plastic figurine, which had nearly drowned within the petals. Sanghyeok looked down at it.

“Oh, I put him there because of Karina.”

“Karina?”

“I read that her spirit animal is a whale. Isn’t it?” Sanghyeok glanced at him for confirmation.

“Well…” Minseok was at a loss for words. “I guess it is. But you didn’t have to have to do so much. It’s making me feel embarrassed.”

“You’re smiling, though.”

“Am I?” Instinctively, Minseok reached up and touched his cheek. He found out why his face ached—without realising it, a delighted grin had spread across his face upon seeing the flowers. Minseok couldn’t help it; the sight of the bouquet, the cute little figurine, all made his chest contract. Briefly, he hesitated, wondering what he should do. Finally:

“Actually, I have something to give you too.”

Sanghyeok raised his eyebrows.

Slowly, and with an air of embarrassment, Minseok brought his arms out from behind his back. He revealed the haggard bouquet of peonies. “I bought them before coming here,” Minseok explained, words tumbling out his mouth. “That’s why I was late. I might have lost a few petals while running, and well… sorry.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. The scene was comedically perfect. Two men, each holding a bouquet, unsure of what to do. A gentle breeze whispered through the leaves, making their rustling the only sound between them.

At long last—

“Sweet.” Sanghyeok broke into a grin. “It’s an even trade. Totally worth.”

Minseok could have kissed the idiotic smile right off Sanghyeok’s feline lips.

“Hey,” Minseok began, stepping closer. He raised his chin. “What were you going to tell me in the cafe yesterday? I was thinking about it all last night.”

At that, Sanghyeok hesitated. He brought a hand up to the side of his neck. “Well, er…”

“If you aren’t gonna say anything, I want to speak first.”

“Hold on, give me a second.”

“Alright then, how about this?” Minseok said lightly. “Why don’t we see who says what’s on their mind first? I’ll count us off.”

Sanghyeok thought about this. “Okay,” he agreed. “It’ll be like Baron smite.”

“Exactly.” Minseok grinned. “And no offense, but I’ve got perfect timing.”

“We’ll see about that,” said Sanghyeok.

“Okay. On three, two, one…”

Minseok swallowed. His palms were dampening the paper wrapping of the bouquet. Yet more than feeling nervous, Minseok knew, from the bottom of his gut, that the game was already over. All they needed was a little push, a final auto attack—to crack the Nexus wide open.

And just like he’d said, Minseok had perfect timing.

“I just wanted to say, I’ve liked you from the beginning,” Sanghyeok began. “So—”

“I like you!” Minseok shouted, thrusting the bouquet out towards him. “Please, go out with me!”

To his horror, Minseok’s voice had come out louder than expected. Head lowered, he squeezed his eyes shut. The peonies faced up at Sanghyeok in full bloom. He listened as the willow leaves hissed around them, almost drowned out by the blood pounding in his ears.

And finally:

“That’s perfect.” Sanghyeok smiled. “Well, I guess you beat me in the Smite fight. I was going to ask the same question.”

Minseok raised his head, breathless. He drank in Sanghyeok’s smile with wide eyes. Stepping closer, Sanghyeok closed the distance between them, tilting his head downwards to meet Minseok’s gaze. He took up the younger man’s hands, their bouquets pressing together to create one overflowing, pink-and-red, beautiful disaster.

“Would you like to go duo together?”

Minseok didn’t have to think twice before responding.

“Bet.”