Chapter Text
Early summer. Seoul.
Wiping sweat from his forehead with his palm and tucking damp strands of hair behind his ears, Jeonghan hurried across the campus toward the main university building. The sun was mercilessly burning his back. Students walking past greeted him, but he barely had enough energy to nod back. His T-shirt was sticking to his back, his knees were starting to tremble from exhaustion, and the amount of work done — he glanced at his planner on the go — was less than half!
Keeping calm by the skin of his teeth, Jeonghan stepped into the student council office. The younger students jumped up from their seats like startled chicks the moment they saw him. Yoon felt the cool air hit his face as he crossed the threshold — they'd turned the AC to max again, even though he'd told them more than once that with the budget cuts, they all needed to save where they could.
"What about the printing?" Jeonghan asked first, still out of breath, addressing everyone at once.
"Sunbae, we called them this morning, but they said our order hasn't come up in the queue yet. They said it'll take about two weeks," his deputy's thin voice carried pure helplessness.
The others nodded, glancing nervously between Jeonghan and her. Yoon took a slow breath, steadying himself. On top of the printing issue, they still had a mountain of other work — the festival was right around the corner, time was running out, and his entire team was just hanging around in the office cooling their heels.
Don't lose your cool.
"Haerin," Han turned to his deputy.
"Yes, sunbae?"
"Call other printing shops around the city. Find out who can do it faster. Once you find someone, grab two people and take the T-shirts there. We need to get started today. Tomorrow morning at the latest." Han scanned the rest of the group, realizing that if he hadn't shown up, no one would have lifted a finger. What was wrong with them?
Pressing his lips together, he walked over to his desk, which was buried under all kinds of paperwork — reports for the administration, agreements with different departments, and God knows what else. When he signed up for the student council president position back in the fall, he hadn't expected this much desk work.
And we haven't even started setting up the venue yet, Jeonghan thought with a wave of panicked weakness as he searched for the right document.
"Junwon," he called out to the guy standing by the window, pretending to be busy sorting folders on the windowsill.
I just organized those by date last week...
These kids were wreaking more chaos in the office than a hurricane.
"Yes, president," the guy pulled himself away from his task and walked over.
"Here, take this to the administration and ask for the key to the storage room. Tell them the student council needs extra equipment for the festival."
The guy took the department-signed agreement from him and rushed off. The rest of the group also started stirring, offering their help with little enthusiasm.
At least that's something... Don't lose your cool.
Jeonghan opened his planner and ran his eyes down the to-do list. Feeling a migraine coming on — the kind that had been plaguing him the past few days from lack of sleep and sky-high stress levels — Han did his best to calmly assign everyone their tasks. Along the way, he had to swap people around several times: someone didn't know how to set up banners, someone had an injury and couldn't lift heavy things, someone had a headache and couldn't stand in the sun for long.
After more or less distributing everyone, Jeonghan felt his eyes starting to hurt from the bright sunlight streaming through the window.
"The rest will come with me to get the chairs," he finished, trying to figure out how many people he had left.
Two freshmen stood up.
Well... not exactly a crowd.
Han was the last to leave the office, turning off the AC and making a mental note to rework the budget again. They'd definitely gone over the limit this month — next month they'd have to tighten their belts. He still needed to finish the semester report that the administration had been waiting on for days, contact the remaining departments to coordinate performance times, and check everyone's completed work.
And, if possible, not have a nervous breakdown in the process. The main thing is not to stress out.
He had been president for a year now. During that time, the student council had survived the fall sports festival, New Year's celebration, the spring cherry blossom festival, and now the summer festival for prospective students was just around the corner.
He'd never paid much attention to how many events their university held until he became responsible for organizing every single one of them. Jeonghan had joined the council back in his first year, mostly for the cafeteria discount and free pool access. The pool idea got old fast, he ate at the cafeteria once a day at best, but the student council ended up taking more and more of his time each year.
Over three years, Yoon had worked his way up from deputy to president. Now he had way more perks than in his first year, but almost no free time to actually enjoy them.
Feeling his sweat-soaked T-shirt cling unpleasantly to his shoulder blades, Jeonghan and the two freshmen finally reached the storage room near the sports field.
Some people actually have the energy to run in this heat, Han thought, spotting a group of athletes in the distance.
"First, let's get the chairs outside, then we'll move them to the venue," he commanded, and everyone got to work.
The sun was merciless, sweat trickled down his temples, and the headache intensified by the minute. Yoon had forgotten just how heavy those deceptive plastic things were.
"Sunbae, how many do we actually need?" one of the freshmen asked after a while.
Jeonghan set down a tall stack of chairs and straightened up, flexing his wrists. He surveyed their work — bright plastic towers stood scattered across the small space in front of the storage room.
"A couple more stacks, I think, and then we can head to the venue. We need to get this all done today. Why? You tired?"
The young men exchanged glances. Jeonghan didn't want to come off as some heartless leader making the younger kids do all the heavy lifting. Of course he could see they were tired. On a day this hot, no one wanted to move a muscle, but... they really were running out of time.
"You can go to the vending machines by the pool. That building over there," he pointed.
Nothing would happen if they caught their breath for a bit, right?
The freshmen bowed and left, promising to buy him a bottle of water. Jeonghan took a couple of slow breaths and got back to work. As he fell into the rhythm of the physical labor, his thoughts drifted back to planning. He was so deep in his own head that he didn't hear the approaching footsteps. When a polite cough came from behind him, he flinched, nearly dropping the last tower of chairs.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," a low voice said from behind.
Han turned around, his surprised gaze landing on a solid guy in a light-colored tracksuit. The face was familiar, and the name slipped off his tongue automatically.
"Oh... Choi Seungcheol?"
Wow.
The guy smiled broadly and nodded.
"Hey there, President Yoon," his voice was bright and loud, like something out of an old memory.
For the first time in two years, Jeonghan was standing this close to him. From this distance, it was easy to see that the guy's muscles looked even more impressive now, and his black hair was shorter.
"Long time no see!" Jeonghan quickly looked away, and suddenly realized he'd stacked some of the chairs right onto the running track that ran past the storage room. "Oh, sorry, I'm blocking the way."
"Don't worry about it," Seungcheol chuckled, stepping closer and helping clear the path. "You sure picked a day to haul heavy stuff."
"Look who's talking. You're the one running laps around the field," Jeonghan tried to sound natural, even though his heart was pounding so loud in his chest he was sure the sound could be heard from several feet away.
Jeonghan remembered Choi Seungcheol well. The guy was a sports major and on the weightlifting team. Back in their first year, when Yoon was running errands for the council, Seungcheol had helped him carry heavy things a couple of times. Then they'd greeted each other in shared classes for a semester and even had lunch together in the cafeteria a few times.
And Jeonghan also remembered clearly how incredibly flustered he'd get whenever Seungcheol talked to him.
When the second semester started, their schedules stopped aligning and the contact fizzled out. Two years had passed. Han knew that Seungcheol had taken first place in a national competition and become the university's representative for student athletes — the student council had published an article about it on the news portal. Jeonghan himself had continued running around with assignments, except now he was the one giving them. Among all his old acquaintances, Choi Seungcheol reminded him most of those distant days of his first year — days filled with dreams, warm autumn sun, and a heart fluttering with anticipation.
"We train in these conditions every day. We're used to it. You should go rest in the shade. Tell me where you need everything moved?" Seungcheol's low voice pulled Jeonghan out of his memories.
The guy had picked up a chair and placed it under a tree, inviting him to sit. Jeonghan looked at him, biting his lip. Seungcheol's character clearly hadn't changed.
"They need to go to the square in front of the main building. We're getting ready for the festival."
Seungcheol nodded, running his fingers through his short, bristly hair. Then he straightened his shoulders, took a deep breath, and shouted:
"Guys, get over here!"
His voice rolled across the sports field, reaching the group of athletes in the distance. After a moment, about ten heavy-breathing guys were standing in front of Jeonghan, looking more like giant boulders than people.
"And now," Seungcheol commanded, "take these chairs and move them to the square in front of the main building."
"But captain!" several of them protested.
The others were eyeing Jeonghan with interest as he sat quietly in the shade of the tree.
"Kim, Park, cut the whining," Seungcheol said, final as a knife. "Move all of them and you're free for the day. Evening practice will be in the gym."
The athletes' sweaty faces lit up with happy smiles. They quickly stacked the already tall piles of chairs into each other, then hoisted them up and marched off the field at a brisk pace.
"You're good at this captain thing," Yoon remarked, getting up and walking over to Seungcheol.
Choi shrugged. Watching the guys quickly disappear into the distance, he turned back to him and gave him a long, attentive look. Han wondered how he had changed over time. He'd probably ended up looking worse than before. Dark circles under his eyes, a gaunt, weak body with no trace of muscle — he had no illusions about his appearance. The insomnia that had been tormenting him and months of living on rice cakes from the vending machine couldn't be good for anyone.
"Same as you, President Yoon," Seungcheol smiled. "I was at the spring festival. Saw you from a distance. Great job."
The unexpected praise made Jeonghan's heart skip. He didn't ask why Seungcheol hadn't come up to him if he'd noticed. He'd seen Seungcheol too during sports events. He was always surrounded by other athletes, very active and loud.
"Let me," Seungcheol walked around him and picked up the last remaining chair with one hand.
"I could've carried that one myself," Jeonghan said with a smirk. He felt his eyes starting to water from the bright sun. Damn migraine.
"Don't worry about it," Seungcheol waved him off.
The two of them walked forward unhurriedly.
Just like in first year. Just don't start stuttering now, please.
The flood of memories tugged the corners of Jeonghan's mouth into a faint smile. Back then he really had been an immature freshman.
And your social skills left a lot to be desired. How did Seungcheol even put up with you back then...
"Congrats on your win at the competition," Jeonghan remembered to say, filling the pause that had settled after they'd talked about finals.
"Oh, you know about that?" Seungcheol looked surprised.
"Yeah, the student council posted an article on the news portal. Didn't you see it? We put a lot of effort into picking the photos."
You put a lot of effort into picking them.
"I don't... really read the news," Seungcheol scratched his head, looking at the road. "And the guys on the team didn't tell me anything either. Damn."
Jeonghan laughed quietly. That was so Choi Seungcheol. It was almost amazing how his habit of ignoring media had stayed with him even after he'd gotten popular.
Hearing the laugh, Seungcheol turned his head again.
"By the way, congrats on the new position, President Yoon. How's the job treating you?"
He walked along, swinging the chair in the air, looking like he hadn't just been running under the blazing sun.
"Hard to say," Han tucked stray strands of hair behind his ears. "A lot of work, but I like it."
Lie. All you dream about is getting back to the dorm and going to sleep.
"Oh, hang on a second, I need to text the guys so they don't come back here," Jeonghan pulled out his phone. "Thanks, by the way. We would've been messing around out here forever on our own."
"No problem," Seungcheol replied.
Jeonghan didn't notice the attentive gaze on him, too focused on the flood of questions coming in from the student council chat.
He's as busy as ever.
It felt like this had been going on for so long — his inability to stop thinking about Yoon Jeonghan.
Seungcheol walked beside him, swinging a plastic chair in the air.
Since their very first meeting, when Yoon had smiled at him and thanked him for his help... Back then he'd still been a shy guy nobody knew. Han used to wear loose clothes and pin his long hair back with clips. He'd smile modestly every time Seungcheol greeted him loudly from the back row of the big lecture hall.
After first year, their paths diverged: while Seungcheol had to pour all his energy into training, camps, and competitions, Jeonghan was climbing the ladder in the student council. For a long time, Seungcheol didn't even realize he'd been storing every bit of information about Han that drifted his way.
Yoon Jeonghan had changed. After two years, no one could call him shy or quiet anymore. He'd turned into a confident student council president. Over the past year, Seungcheol had seen him several times, rushing past surrounded by younger students, handing out orders. He was great at his job, no question.
But Seungcheol saw the other side of him too. When he went out for early morning practice, and Han was sitting on the stone steps of the main building, hiding in the shadows of the columns. He'd still pin his hair back out of habit and stare at his planner, holding the tip of a pencil between his lips.
Seungcheol had seen Jeonghan so many times, but not once had he approached him. Over time, it had just become a habit — to notice the slim figure of the boy whenever he could. Yoon never noticed him. He was always busy with something.
Seungcheol understood.
Maybe Jeonghan didn't even remember him, while Seungcheol was starting to feel, more and more each day, like he would never be able to get the boy out of his head.
Choi kept training hard, lifting weights. Sometimes he hung out with friends, but none of them had any idea that...
"Hurricane Yoon dead ahead," a guy from the team called out as they started their fifth lap around the stadium.
A lot of the athletes called the student council president that, convinced he was the reason sports grounds kept getting taken over as event venues.
Seungcheol perked up, his gaze shooting forward. The familiar silhouette caught his eye quickly. A few dozen meters away, Yoon Jeonghan was moving a tall stack of chairs from the storage room all by himself.
Shit, he's going to wreck his back, flashed through his mind, and his legs carried Seungcheol forward before he could think.
"One more lap on the small loop," he commanded on the run, breaking away from the team breathing down his neck.
As he approached Yoon Jeonghan, he couldn't believe he'd actually finally gone for it.
Only took you three years, Choi Seungcheol.
* * *
For a moment, he'd thought that Jeonghan was genuinely happy to see him. That the guy had noticed him in some special way, and that all the smiles and thank-yous he'd given him yesterday meant something. Seungcheol realized he'd been fooling himself by the very next day. The reality hit him the second Jeonghan rushed past him, surrounded by first-years. The whole group was hauling boxes and metal beams somewhere. Yoon, as always, was explaining something on the go in his soft, quiet voice.
"Yeah, better split into teams of three," fragments of his words reached Seungcheol. "Two hold it, one tightens the bolts."
Seungcheol's hand, raised to greet him, hung in the air for a second, then dropped back down.
"...ah, why does rainy season have to start so early this year?" Kim's whining continued in the background without missing a beat.
"Captain, have you figured out what you're doing for break?" another teammate asked him.
They were all walking back from the coaches' office after getting the official announcement that seven days off would start next week.
Right after the festival.
"Yeah. Going to visit family," Seungcheol replied, watching out of the corner of his eye where the group led by Jeonghan was headed. "Don't be late for evening practice. Gym at six."
"Yes, captain!"
Saying a quick goodbye to everyone, Seungcheol set off after Yoon. The disappointment that had flared up for a split second faded quickly. After all, Cheol had always known that he was the only one capable of spending three years gathering his thoughts before finally figuring things out and making a move. And Yoon Jeonghan had hardly spent that time waiting around. He'd definitely forgotten about him the moment their shared classes ended.
"Oh, Seungcheol?" Jeonghan looked just as surprised as he had yesterday when the guy appeared in front of him.
Choi quickly noted that the shadows under the boy's eyes hadn't disappeared overnight, and beneath his light tan, a sickly pallor was showing through on his thin face.
And he keeps working in this state?
"Need help?"
Yoon froze for a moment, looking around.
"Ah... You're not busy? No practice?"
"No, not until evening."
"Weeell," Han quickly tucked his hair back. "Then please, help the guys tighten the fasteners. I can't keep up with everyone."
For the next two hours, they didn't exchange a single word. Seungcheol was sent to help on another part of the site. A crowd of strangers had formed between him and Jeonghan, making it impossible for Seungcheol to even steal a glance at the boy.
See? He doesn't care about you at all.
Seungcheol worked hard, trying not to get too distracted by stupid thoughts. Sure, maybe Yoon Jeonghan had sent him far away, but they still had five more days of festival prep ahead.
As soon as the work was done, Seungcheol appeared next to Jeonghan and suggested they go to lunch together. The student council president blinked in confusion, then quickly chirped something about a huge pile of paperwork and ran off — literally.
Weeell, Choi Seungcheol, today's just not your day.
But the same thing happened the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. Seungcheol got polite smiles from Jeonghan, obligatory questions like "How are you doing?" and a mountain of thank-yous on top for the help. It might have seemed like Yoon was happy to see him, but actually, the boy treated everyone exactly the same way.
In his eyes, Seungcheol was just another pair of hands. An acquaintance who, for some unknown reason, was rushing to help. Probably because he had nothing better to do.
What were you expecting?
This time, he got luckier: the two of them were setting up the lighting equipment together. Students passing by were busy putting up barriers and didn't get in the way of Seungcheol's attempts to strike up a conversation with the elusive president.
"God, it's so hot," Jeonghan sighed, tucking fallen strands of hair behind his ears. Seungcheol caught the boy's thoughtful gaze on him. "Maybe I should cut mine like yours? Your hair doesn't get in the way."
Seungcheol smirked. For the first time in three days, Jeonghan had said something to him that wasn't about work.
"I actually like your hair," Cheol replied, feeling that the boy was more open to him today.
Jeonghan smiled.
"So you have good taste," he said, before going back to plugging in a cable.
The words poured into Seungcheol's ears like sweet honey. It felt like Jeonghan was slowly starting to come out of the shell of all his presidential obsessions.
He really did stop getting flustered by compliments, Cheol thought, secretly watching as Han stuck out the tip of his tongue in concentration. Cute.
"You try. I think I'm out of steam," Han grumbled, carefully studying the outlet and plug. "Damn those cheapskates in supply. How many months has it been and they still can't replace the extension cords."
"Let me."
* * *
Two days before the festival, Jeonghan was gloomier than a storm cloud. The printing shop had called to say they couldn't find forty of the T-shirts from the ordered amount. Seungcheol watched as Yoon spoke on the phone with his deputy, his voice shaking. The girl on the other end of the line was tearfully apologizing for leaving one batch in her car.
"She left town for family matters and doesn't know when she'll be back," Jeonghan said flatly after hanging up.
He took a few more steps and collapsed onto a stone step, exhausted. Seungcheol stood next to him, blocking the sun with his back. With each passing day, the shadows under Jeonghan's eyes grew darker, and the smile he so generously gave everyone around him grew fainter.
"We'll figure something out," Cheol said, watching Jeonghan's shoulders slump and his gaze go distant.
"You have no idea how tired I am of their carelessness," Jeonghan whispered, running his palms over his face.
He looked completely drained, head bowed low, staring miserably at his own knees. Seungcheol watched him carefully, a plan already forming in his head.
"Do you have her address?" he asked after a moment.
"Yeah, but she lives in the suburbs," Jeonghan breathed out. "By bus, it's over an hour each way."
"I can drive you."
Yoon's head shot up, and he stared at him in surprise.
"You? Oh, sorry, I completely forgot you have a license. If it's not too much trouble... I'd really appreciate it."
"Don't worry about it. Let's go," Seungcheol said, reaching out a hand to help him up.
That day, staying quiet felt agonizing to Seungcheol. But as soon as they pulled out, Jeonghan leaned his head back against the passenger seat and closed his eyes.
"Sorry, my head's killing me."
"Try not to stress about anything and get some sleep. I'll tell you when we're getting close."
"Okay," Han barely breathed out, sliding down a little in his seat. "Thank you for coming to help. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Seungcheol thought he'd imagined it. The boy fell asleep, leaving Cheol alone to process words spoken just above a whisper. His heart pounded happily in his chest. He made a firm decision: he wouldn't let them become just pleasant memories of each other again.
* * *
Jeonghan sat in the cafeteria, his food pushed to the edge of the table, surrounded on all sides by unchecked expense reports. The festival was supposed to start tomorrow, and all the preparations had been successfully completed. You'd think he could finally breathe easy — but not him. Jeonghan wanted to get through all the paperwork as fast as possible so that tomorrow, as soon as the event ended, he could go straight back to the dorm and crash.
The insomnia that had been plaguing him on and off since the beginning of spring had been acting up for real these past few days. Whether the cause was the responsibility for the student council weighing on his shoulders, or Choi Seungcheol showing up out of nowhere after two years — Jeonghan couldn't tell which one occupied his thoughts more often before sleep.
But while he could think about his work for hours, thinking about the guy for too long was dangerous. Jeonghan could feel it — even after two years, Choi Seungcheol still stirred something inside him.
You're not that shy, awkward kid anymore. You can't start blushing around him again, Yoon Jeonghan. Don't be an idiot. He just wants to help you — with thoughts like these, Han interacted with Choi Seungcheol every single day.
Against all logic, he could feel everything inside him freeze the moment the guy came near. And this stupid stiffness that overtook him every time he was around Seungcheol infuriated him.
You're an adult, Yoon Jeonghan. You need to treat him like a colleague. Stop drooling over him, you idiot.
Over the past few days, the boy had thrown all his energy into fighting himself. He'd deliberately sent Seungcheol to help other students. He'd deliberately found work for himself so he wouldn't linger around Choi. But every night, tossing and turning on his bed in the stuffy dorm room, Han thought — and thought — and thought about Choi Seungcheol.
Fucking obsession. You're an idiot, Yoon Jeonghan. His inner voice didn't hold back on the self-deprecation.
Seungcheol had always stirred up too many feelings in him. Outgoing, cheerful, kind. The life of the party. A bright star of the sports department. Jeonghan had consciously stayed away from him. Around Choi Seungcheol, he felt like that same modest, awkward freshman all over again.
But at least you've learned to pretend and act confident.
Jeonghan sighed heavily, surfacing from his thoughts. They hadn't seen each other today yet.
Right. You've been hiding in here since morning.
In the summer, you could count the students in the cafeteria on one hand. Pushing the front strands of hair out of his face, Jeonghan bent over the reports, paying no attention to the few visitors. He tried to focus on the numbers, but his thoughts kept slipping away, painting a bright, smiling image in front of his eyes.
There you are, a low, familiar voice said right above him, making Yoon jump and lift his head.
"Seungcheol?" slipped off his tongue before he could stop himself.
And why do you call him by name every single time instead of just saying hello?
Choi sat down across from him and gave the stack of papers an expressive look.
"Not a single day off, huh?"
Jeonghan shrugged, smiling back.
Act natural, Yoon Jeonghan.
"Were you looking for me?"
"Yeah. And while running all over campus, I realized I don't have your number." The guy held out his phone.
Feeling the attentive gaze on him, Jeonghan — as if hypnotized — typed in his number.
"Done," he said after a few seconds, handing Seungcheol's phone back.
Breathe calmly.
"So," Jeonghan felt his body stiffen yet again, making him speak more quietly and sit up straighter. "Why were you looking for me? If it's about helping with work — we finished everything last night. Didn't want to put it off until today. I just have some things left to sign, and then I can rest." He tried to speak calmly, keeping a polite smile on his face.
Seungcheol listened, then shook his head.
"I'm glad you won't have to work so much anymore." His low voice seeped under Jeonghan's skin, and his smiling gaze made it impossible to look away.
Jeonghan felt with alarm a dark, dangerous feeling awaken in his stomach — nothing like nervous nausea.
"Actually, I came to you about something else." Seungcheol leaned closer to him. "Yoon Jeonghan, do you want to go to Japan with me next week?"