Lost in the depths of his thoughts, Soobin sat alone with his left hand wrapped tightly around a bottle of wine. His hollow gaze was fixed on the label, unfocused and weary, while his chin rested limply against the wooden table. Soft, broken giggles escaped his lips, a clear sign of how utterly inebriated he'd become.
He didn't know what was wrong with him.
He couldn't even name the aching emptiness inside him—only that something was drowning within, something deep and painful, without reason or destination.
Earlier that day, a few of his students had invited him out for food. Normally, he would have happily agreed—maybe even offered to treat them himself. But today, he declined. Something had been gnawing at him, pulling him back home where he now sat, reflecting in silent turmoil.
A part of him felt… incomplete. As if someone important was missing.
The longing to see that person, to talk, to laugh, to just be in their presence again—it was all consuming. Soobin's heart ached as he thought about the younger man he used to spend so much time with. He missed those moments. He missed him.
"Kai…" he whispered brokenly.
A tear slipped quietly down his cheek.
It felt ridiculous, maybe even delusional, but Soobin missed Kai deeply. The memory of the boy's lips on his own kept resurfacing, vivid and untouchable, tormenting him in waves. And despite knowing how wrong it might be to wish for more, his heart continued to crave it.
He laughed bitterly and took a long swig from the bottle, letting himself slip further into intoxication. His vision blurred, swimming in a haze, and soon he saw a shape emerging from the edge of his wandering gaze.
A figure. A man.
Soobin squinted. His eyes struggled to focus. And then—he heard it.
"Soobin."
That voice. It echoed inside his ears like a whisper from heaven.
He blinked slowly, dazed, confused, and lifted a trembling hand toward the figure's face. His fingers touched soft skin. Cheeks he thought he knew.
"…Kai?" he murmured.
His vision cleared, and there he was—Kai, looking at him with the softest, most angelic gaze. Soobin smiled drunkenly, gently caressing the younger's cheeks, hands unwilling to let go.
He couldn't take his eyes off those lips.
He leaned in slowly, about to taste that familiar sweetness once more—until the world around him went black.
With a heavy thud, Soobin collapsed to the floor.
Kai had never been there.
It had all been a drunken illusion.
A few soft snores filled the room as Soobin fell into unconsciousness, curled awkwardly on the cold floor with the bottle tipped beside him.
+×+
The classroom buzzed with activity, but Beomgyu remained quiet, his chin resting in his hand as he stared off into space, lost in last night's memory.
He couldn't stop thinking about it.
They kissed.
He and Yeonjun kissed.
Even now, the sensation lingered on his lips like a phantom touch. It thrilled him, electrified his chest, yet scared him half to death. He had always promised himself never to fall for someone—not when love came with consequences, rules, and risks.
Especially not when the person was his teacher.
His heart twisted in uncertainty. Was Yeonjun feeling the same way? Or had it all been in the moment? There were no words exchanged after the kiss. No labels. No promises. No explanations. Their status was a blank page, and Beomgyu was desperate to write something on it. He needed clarity. He needed answers. And above all, he feared what his parents would do if they ever found out.
Despite the inner chaos, a dreamy smile crept onto his lips as he fantasized about Yeonjun—until reality pulled him back. He blinked and looked around.
Kai's seat was still empty.
Hours passed. The class ended. Kai never came.
Worried, Beomgyu tried calling his friend, but the call didn't go through. His chest tightened with concern.
Is he sick?
His thoughts were interrupted when a group of jocks whistled mockingly at him down the hallway. Beomgyu turned with irritation, already scowling at the sight of Mingyu and his ever-present cronies, Vernon and Junhui.
"Hey there, Beomgyu," Mingyu grinned, cornering him against the lockers. "You've looked kind of lonely lately. Where's your little shadow? Kai, was it?"
Beomgyu's brow twitched. Something about the way Mingyu said Kai's name made him uneasy. There was a mocking lilt to his tone, a subtle cruelty in his smile.
"You can hang with us instead," Mingyu offered. "We've got plenty of ways to have fun."
Beomgyu opened his mouth to refuse—but someone beat him to it.
"Back off, you fucking animals!"
Taehyun's voice rang through the hallway like a whip.
The jocks turned, sneers forming instantly.
"You again?" Mingyu spat. "Didn't we beat the lesson into you last time?"
He gave Beomgyu one final chilling grin before signaling his friends to back off—for now.
As they left, Beomgyu turned to Taehyun, relief giving way to concern when he saw the bruises and cuts on his friend's face.
"The hell happened to you?"
"Got into it with those assholes last night," Taehyun muttered, wiping blood from his lip. "Stay away from them. Looks like you're their new target."
Beomgyu's stomach twisted. Then, he remembered something.
"Have you seen Kai? Do you know why he didn't come to school?"
The moment Beomgyu said the name, Taehyun's demeanor shifted. His expression grew guarded, almost pained.
"I think… you should check on him," Taehyun said quietly. "I'm not sure I can be around him right now. Things got… complicated."
Beomgyu frowned. "What? Did you two fight?"
"N-No. It's just…" Taehyun hesitated, then sighed heavily.
Finally, he looked Beomgyu in the eye.
"I need to tell you something… about what the jocks did to Kai."
+×+
Elsewhere, Yeonjun sat with legs crossed and arms folded, the weight of last night settling heavily in his chest.
He didn't know how to feel.
What they did—what he did—wasn't exactly within the boundaries of reason. Making out with Beomgyu had crossed more than one line. Yet, he couldn't regret it. He couldn't even bring himself to say it was wrong.
Because it felt right.
Beomgyu made him feel calm. Alive. Like the world could slow down for a while just to let him enjoy the simple act of existing beside someone. Time with him was like autumn leaves falling—quiet, graceful, beautiful.
And dangerous.
He was well aware of the rules. He knew how fragile their situation was. One misstep could ruin both of them. His career was also at stake. The promotion he had worked so hard for—it meant everything.
But Beomgyu… meant something too.
His fingers drifted to his lips, tracing the memory of their kiss. He smiled, almost involuntarily. In Beomgyu's presence, he forgot the consequences. He only remembered the joy, the laughter, the warmth.
He was in love. Even if he denied it, even if he tried to bury it—he knew the truth.
But love, in this form, wasn't easy. It wasn't simple.
It came with risks.
And right now, he had no idea what to do. Every solution he tried to think of led him to more questions. More complications. More danger.
"What should I do?" Yeonjun whispered to himself, his voice barely audible.
His heart was full, but his path was unclear. And in the distance, the storm of consequences quietly brewed.