Chapter Text
Matthew woke up to the sound of his alarm vibrating against the nightstand, a low, insistent buzz that felt far too aggressive for a Monday morning. He stared at the ceiling for a few seconds longer than necessary, letting the weight of the day settle in. He groaned, not wanting to leave his bed and warm blanket.
First day of medical school.
He rolled onto his side, squinting at the time, burying his face into the pillow like that might buy him a few more minutes of peace. It didn’t. He pushed himself out of bed anyway, stretching his arms above his head as if that alone might prepare him for the years ahead — years of long nights, longer exams, and the slow erosion of sleep.
Still, he smiled. It was his dream after all.
He got ready, choosing his best — well, at least by his standards — outfit. He ate his breakfast with the enthusiasm of someone who knew exactly what he’d signed up for and chose to do it anyway. By the time it was 7.30, he had his coffee in hand as he hurried out of his apartment building just in time to catch the bus to campus.
By the time he reached campus, the air buzzed with nervous energy. Groups of students clustered near the entrance of the auditorium, some already laughing too loudly, others staring at their phones like they might still escape if they pretended hard enough. Matthew hesitated at the door, then slipped inside and scanned the rows of seats.
He chose one at random. Well, not exactly random, he chose one in the back, slightly off to the corner. Strategic. If he accidentally fell asleep, at least it wouldn’t be obvious.
The guy sitting beside him looked… tense. Not in an obvious way — no shaking hands or frantic glances — but there was a stiffness to his posture, like he was holding himself together by sheer willpower. Dark hair, neat but not overly styled. Backpack already at his feet, placed just so.
Matthew sat down.
“Hey,” he said, easily. “Do you think this thing is gonna last the full two hours they promised? Because I didn’t emotionally prepare for that.”
The guy blinked, surprised, then turned slightly. “Probably,” he said. “It’s med school. They like to suffer.”
Matthew grinned. “Great. Love that for us.”
There was a pause. Not awkward — just empty. The kind that waited to be filled.
“I’m Matthew,” he added, extending a hand without thinking too hard about it. “Seok Matthew.”
“Taerae, Kim Taerae” the guy replied, shaking it briefly. His grip was firm, efficient. “I was in chemistry pre-med. You?”
“Health science,” Matthew said. “So, if I ever need help with molecules, I’ll bother you.”
“Well, if I ever need help talking to people,” Taerae said dryly, “I’ll bother you.”
Matthew laughed, a little louder than he meant to. “Deal.”
The dean took the stage shortly after, launching into a speech that was equal parts inspirational and ominous. Matthew listened with half an ear, jotting down a few notes he knew he’d never look at again. He leaned over once to whisper commentary — something about “lifelong learning” sounding suspiciously like “lifelong suffering” — and Taerae snorted before he could stop himself.
When the group assignments were announced, Matthew scanned the board lazily, not expecting much. Then he spotted his name. Right under it—
Kim Taerae.
“Huh,” Matthew murmured.
Taerae leaned in. “What?”
“Same group. With you.”
Taerae exhaled, between disappointment and slight excitement. “Guess I have to hear your endless commentary over everything for an entire week.”
Matthew smiled, then grinned while nudging his arm. “It’s fate, you know.”
***
The orientation tour was chaos in the way only organized chaos could be. Each group consisted of ten first-years, all pretending not to be overwhelmed, led by two upperclassmen who could not have been more different.
Sung Hanbin was calm, articulate, and painfully prepared. He pointed out lecture halls, labs, quiet study spaces, and very sternly reminded them of attendance policies. Zhang Hao, on the other hand, waited until Hanbin turned his back before whispering things like, “That hallway? Best place to disappear if you’re skipping,” and “Never take Professor Lee’s exams lightly unless you enjoy public humiliation,”, then another “I can tell you best places for a quick make out session but you guys are babies”.
Matthew loved him instantly. Wait, correction, Matthew loved the gossip instantly.
At first, Taerae went strangely quiet when Hanbin introduced himself.
“No way,” He said.
Matthew noticed his shock and whispering. “No way … as for what?”
“I knew him, from high school,” Taerae muttered. Matthew seemed not satisfied with the answer, then Taerae added. “It’s a long story. He took psychology for his pre-med.” Matthew didn’t push, just nodded. He just filed it away.
Hanbin noticed Taerae too, breaking into a grin. “I can’t believe we’re at the same school,” he said, pulling Taerae into a quick hug, big smile showing at his face. “How have you been?”
“Thriving,” Taerae deadpanned. “And questioning every life choice that led me here.”
They spent a whole day listening to Hanbin’s and Hao’s explanation about the campus tour. By the time they had their lunch, they decided to sat down in the campus’ garden with their cafeteria sandwiches, the sun had softened and the group had loosened up. Hanbin asked why they’d chosen medicine. Answers varied; family, passion, purpose, money. Money?
Matthew went first, talking about wanting to take care of people, about how he’d always known. “I love taking care of others. Taking care of people and seeing people get taken care of is endearing,” Matthew’s answer is followed by ‘woah’ from the others, a noble answer indeed.
Taerae shrugged when it was his turn. “Mainly for the adrenaline,” he said. “Salary’s not bad either.”
Matthew blinked, then laughed — not unkindly. “At least you’re honest.”
Taerae smirked. “Someone has to be.”
At the end of the day, as people filtered out in clusters, Matthew pulled out his phone.
“Hey,” he said, “you wanna exchange numbers? For class stuff,” Matthew said again, then he added lightly, “Or occasional hangout sometimes.”
Taerae hesitated for half a second, then nodded. They compared addresses while saving contacts.
“…Wait,” Matthew said slowly. “Same building?”
Taerae frowned. “What floor?”
“The seventh.”
Silence.
“No way,” Taerae said.
Matthew’s grin was immediate and unapologetic, jabbing Taerae’s arm lightly. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”
Taerae sighed. “Unfortunate.”
But he didn’t say no when Matthew added, “Let’s go home Kim Taerae. Also, we should walk together tomorrow!”
And Matthew didn’t think much of it at all. He had made a new friend after all.
***
By the time the first week blurred toward its end, Matthew felt like his brain had been stretched, folded, and gently placed back into his skull in the wrong order. He had fun quickly becoming popular as the ‘sunshine boy’, making friends with almost everyone.
Welcoming week had been a strange mix of excitement and exhaustion — icebreaker games that weren’t as awkward as he’d expected, campus rules delivered with a seriousness that made everything feel suddenly real, and an overwhelming sense that this place was about to become his entire life.
Nearing the end of the week, the extracurricular festival took over the central field on Friday afternoon.
Tents lined the grass in uneven rows, banners flapping lazily in the breeze, music overlapping in chaotic layers. Seniors shouted recruitment slogans like their lives depended on it. Someone was handing out flyers aggressively. Someone else was blasting pop music loud enough to shake the nearby windows.
Matthew loved it immediately.
He stuck close to Taerae as they walked — not out of fear, but out of habit now. Somewhere along the week, walking together had become the default. Taerae didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he leaned into it, matching Matthew’s pace easily, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets.
“Why does the football club get the biggest tent?” Matthew asked, squinting up at the massive banner. “Like, what are they compensating for?”
Taerae snorted. “You’re going to get us kicked out of med school before classes even start.”
Matthew gasped dramatically. “I’m just asking important questions.”
They drifted past booth after booth. Dance clubs, research groups, volunteer organizations, student councils. Matthew commented on nearly all of them while Taerae was just there listening to his commentary.
“Wow,” he said, eyeing a cheerleading poster. “Should I join? We definitely should join.”
Taerae shot him a look. “No.”
Then they moved on to another tent. “Wow,” Matthew continued, unfazed, “that band club banner is so you.”
Taerae frowned. “What does that even mean?”
“It means,” Matthew said seriously, “that you look like someone who sings and plays instruments really well and pretends it’s no big deal.”
Taerae scoffed. “A week sticking with me and suddenly you’ve got a master’s degree in knowing my talents?”
“Am I wrong?”
Taerae didn’t answer. He just rolled his eyes.
Hanbin and Hao were still around, but not hovering like they had on the first day. They checked in periodically, sent reminders to the group chat, and made sure no one disappeared entirely. At lunch, they gathered like usual — sandwiches, bottled drinks, the grass slightly damp beneath them.
Hanbin talked about time management, about not falling behind early, about learning how to ask for help before things spiraled. Hao followed it up with stories about killer professors, which bathrooms had the best lighting for crying, and which study rooms were mysteriously always locked. Surprisingly, their dynamic set a balanced mood for the first-year, making it easy for everyone to warm up to their seniors.
Matthew listened to both with equal interest. Though, he got slightly more excited every time Hao opened his mouth.
The week ended the way all good things did. They sat in a loose circle, tired but lighter somehow, talking about expectations and worries. Matthew talked about wanting to learn everything, about hoping he wouldn’t lose himself along the way, about being a noble doctor someday. He was almost as noisy as the dean had been on their first day.
Taerae leaned back on his hands, it’s his turn. “I mean,” he said, “I’m worried. Obviously. But worrying about something that hasn’t happened yet feels like a waste of time.”
Matthew hummed. “That’s… very you.”
“Live in the moment,” Taerae added. “We’ll deal with the rest when it comes.”
Matthew smiled. He liked that about him. The balance.
They were packing up when Hao waved someone over. His classmate, apparently. Or someone from his batch. “Hey,” he called. “You’re done already?”
A man approached — older, confident in the way seniors always were. Calm posture. Easy smile. A gorgeous face. Tall, with broad shoulders. He introduced himself as Kim Jiwoong, Jiwoong for short, one of the guides for another group.
“Just dropping by,” Jiwoong said. “My group finished early.”
“We are just about to pack up,” Hao said, then he added, “unless you want to greet my cutie pookie right here.”
He then greeted everyone politely. “Nice to meet you, I’m Kim Jiwoong.” Jiwoong said, bowing his head.
When his gaze landed on Taerae, it lingered for half a second longer than necessary before moving on. Taerae noticed Jiwoong’s gaze lingering and politely said, “Nice to meet you too, Sunbae-nim. I’m Kim Taerae.”
By the time they left, the sun was setting, the campus quieter than it had been all week.
Matthew stretched his arms over his head. “Well,” he said, “if this is the calm before the storm, I’d like to formally request a delay.”
Taerae laughed. “You are so weird.”
They walked home together, like they had every day that week. Matthew didn’t realize it yet, but the rhythm was already set.
***
By Friday night, just when Matthew thought welcoming week had wrung him dry enough, the administrative email dropped into his inbox.
Semester Schedule — First Year.
He opened it from his bed, one leg dangling off the mattress, laptop balanced precariously on his stomach. The list scrolled on and on: basic medicine, physiology, anatomy, pharmacology, life cycle, medical ethics, biochemistry. Each subject neatly arranged, each with more hours than he was emotionally prepared to acknowledge.
Then came the class divisions.
Class A.
Class B.
Class C.
Matthew scanned for his name.
Found it. Class B it is.
Then his eyes flicked down the list again, checking his classmates.
“Oh,” Matthew breathed, then immediately grabbed his phone. Smile was all over his face.
matthew
u really love me, huh?
taerae
??
matthew
you clearly have not checked your email
not only did u spend the entire week sticking to my ass
you are also my classmates lol u really love me
taerae
I have to spend another 4 something months with you!?
matthew
it’s 4 years sweetheart
they wont change it until we graduate
unless for extra modules
and clinical rotations
<3
taerae
now I know why my mom told me to go to church
matthew
and why is that related to us being classmates
taerae
cause it can keep me away from a devil
now I’m paying the price
matthew
that is so sweet
<3
taerae
oh God you are sick
matthew
see u on Monday, bestie! <3
taerae
*blocked*
Matthew laughed into his pillow, shoulders shaking. Apparently, teasing Taerae had become his new favorite hobby.
One week with Taerae had been enough to teach him a few things. Taerae was blunt, observant, and far kinder than he ever admitted. The type who complained and sighed endlessly but would still show up early, wait patiently, and walk you home without being asked. He threw tantrums, called you idiots (lovingly), bickered relentlessly, yet would cross oceans for the people he cared about.
Matthew, on the other hand, had never been subtle about his affection. He gave it freely, loudly, and without shame — words, touches, presence, teases, and lovely bickers all at once.
If Taerae cared quietly, Matthew cared out in the open. If Taerae struggled to express what he felt, Matthew struggled to hide it. Somehow, a super T and a super F managed to coexisted — without killing each other. Yet.
For the first time since getting his acceptance letter, medical school didn’t feel so overwhelming.
At least, not yet.
Not until Monday arrived like a slap to the face.
Matthew showed up to his first lecture buzzing with misplaced optimism, coffee in hand, backpack neatly organized. Four classes. Ninety minutes each. Total of seven hours in school including lunch break.
I can do that, that would be easy, he told himself confidently.
That confidence lasted exactly one hour. Even the first class has not finished yet.
By the second lecture, the professor had already assigned two group projects, one individual paper, and a “light reading” list that looked suspiciously like a small textbook — definitely small, for the professor.
“What the fuck,” Matthew whispered as they shuffled out of the hall. “It’s only the second class. Why do we already have two projects?”
Taerae, walking beside him, “It’s a school, by the way,” he said flatly. “For learning.”
“You sound like the dean.”
“You sound like someone who’s about to cry.”
Matthew opened his mouth to argue and got cut off when Taerae grabbed his wrist.
“Forget it,” Taerae said. “Let’s just eat. We still have two more classes today.”
He dragged Matthew toward the cafeteria just as the hallway began filled rapidly with students. They barely secured a table before it was overrun.
Matthew slumped into his seat. “I hate it here.”
“You loved it five minutes ago.”
“That was before they ruined my life.”
Taerae snorted, unwrapping his sandwich. “Dramatic ass.”
***
The weeks settled into a rhythm faster than Matthew expected.
Morning lectures. Afternoon labs. Evenings spent oscillating between studying and convincing himself that resting was also productive. Somewhere in between, Taerae became a constant.
They walked to class together, sometimes in silence, sometimes arguing about nothing. Lunch was almost always shared — occasionally with classmates like Chaehyun, who Matthew met through a group assignment together, or with Hanbin (Park, not Sung), whose quiet efficiency intimidated Matthew in the most respectful way. They had constant ambition in pursuing M.D., being active in classes, answering professor’s questions with ease, and sharing neatly organized notes right before exam.
Like.. who did that?
Matthew still had fun, though, definitely not because of the classes.
Campus clubs entered the picture soon after.
Matthew signed up for the football club and a dance club without hesitation. Taerae joined the band club, guitar case slung over his shoulder like it belonged there. As expected, his singing voice was unfairly good, Matthew was indeed a master in recognizing Taerae’s talents.
“You should join dance too,” Matthew said one evening.
“No.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No.”
“I’ll be bored without you.”
“That’s the point of campus clubs. You meet people.”
Matthew pouted. Taerae sighed.
“Fine,” Taerae said. “But if I embarrass myself, this is on you.”
Matthew beamed like he had won a prize. “You won’t, I’ve got a master’s degree from the School of Kim Taerae’s Talents.”
“Oh shut up.”
***
It has been two months since their first meeting, almost reaching the end of their first semester. The days filled with endless assignments, exams, and lab projects. It was overwhelming for first-years — and borderline life-or-death situation for Matthew. Most of the time, Taerae was the sane one; reminding him of deadlines, quizzing him on exam topics, keeping him marginally functional. Matthew contributed by supplying coffee and snacks, which he felt was equally vital.
They weren’t thinking about the future yet. Not really. They were just surviving the present.
One evening, in one of their study sessions, Taerae’s phone lit up with a buzz.
A message appeared in his notification.
unknown
Hi, it’s Kim Jiwoong, from Year 3, Class A.
It’s Kim Taerae, right? I got your number from Hao.
Taerae stared at his notification for a second, brows knitting together, then typed back politely.
taerae
Yes, this is Kim Taerae from Year 1, Class B.
Hello, Sunbae-nim.
Matthew looked at Taerae, one thing he learned about Taerae is that his face came with subtitle. Like the situation right now, his face is showing: confused, mildly alarmed.
“Why?” Matthew asked. “Who’s that?”
“Kim Jiwoong,” Taerae said. “From Hao sunbae’s class,” He frowned. “Damn, am I suddenly in trouble with my sunbae?”
“You are always in trouble, no wonder,” Matthew said.
“Dude,” Taerae muttered, shoving his shoulder, “that’s not helping.”
Matthew laughed and jabbed Taerae’s arm, the moment passing just as easily as it came.
They continued their study session — paper scattered in every corner of the room, empty cups of coffee filled Matthew’s bin, laptops full of exam topics beamed relentlessly just as much as their brain did.