Chapter Text
the university’s main courtyard was full of students dressed in all kinds of ways; some in t-shirts, others in button-up, denim jackets, fancy dresses. it was all part of that strange late september mood, the air still warm but the leaves already fading into something yellower. by then, six boys had somehow become a unit despite their differences; they were scattered across the concrete benches, laughing over half-eaten sandwiches and fries. junghwan sat slightly apart, his thick hoodie pulled up despite the warmth, fingers tracing the spine of a criminology textbook. he listened more than he spoke, but no one seemed to mind. not even youngjae, who was currently draped over hanjin’s shoulder, giggling into his phone as he scrolled through some gossip blog.
“oh my god, they’re dating…” he screamed, his mouth falling open. he’d just read the new article about a campus couple, a popular senior and the prettiest junior among the freshmen.
“i can’t really believe it, that was fast,” hanjin was just as shocked, but his voice came out calmer.
“who’s that?” dohoon tried to peek at the phone, but he didn’t get what was so interesting about other people’s love lives. he frowned, then turned to jihoon, who just shrugged.
“i think junghwan hyung knows the guy…” kyungmin, a freshman himself, was intrigued by the story but wanted to sound nonchalant.
and junghwan? he wasn’t even paying attention. despite having been at university longer than the others, he wasn’t interested in interacting with people, let alone knowing who they were. he was in his second year of criminology, but it was his fourth year as a university student. he’d done his military service first, then switched from business to criminology after realizing numbers and algebra made his skin itch, that stats powerpoints weren’t his thing. the others didn’t ask why, and junghwan didn’t feel the need to explain.
han jihoon was the voice out of the choir. junghwan was unexpectedly the one who turned his uni life into something special. they had late-night talks about anything, especially crime riddles and games. jihoon could drag his quiet friend out — literally, sometimes — into the real world; parties, spontaneous trips, half-baked projects they’d start at 2 a.m. and somehow make real by dawn. and even if junghwan didn’t smile, jihoon got confidence each time he caught junghwan smirking. being his friend felt like a challenge, a positive one.
so yeah, jihoon missed that energy, that push. dohoon? he was there, he called jihoon everyday, sure, but it wasn’t the same. he’d nod along, offer a quiet sounds good! and then disappear into his own head before anything actually happened. in the end they just accepted that junghwan showed up to group outings, nodded at jokes, and never complained when youngjae and hanjin dragged him and the rest to karaoke at night.
“dohoon hyung, you still haven’t sent me your part of the project,” jihoon said, his voice taking on a mock-serious tone as he leaned forward slightly, fingers drumming against the denim of his jeans. “i’m giving you two more days… after that, i swear i’m showing up at your place,” he tried to sound threatening, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow, but the playful glint in his eyes betrayed him. deep down, he was just hoping dohoon would finally take the deadline seriously. yet, as usual, his words seemed to bounce right off dohoon’s indifferent demeanor.
dohoon didn’t even flinch. he just smirked, tilting his head back against the chair as if the whole thing were a joke. “fine, fine… i’ll try,” he drawled, his voice filled with amusement. then, with a smirk that suggested he was already three steps ahead, he added, “my mom will be thrilled to see you again, by the way…” the unspoken implication hung in the air. jihoon knew all too well what kind of welcome awaited him if he actually followed through.
junghwan quietly listened to the conversation, his gaze fixed on some of the words of the book he was holding. he didn’t laugh, didn’t toss in sarcastic remarks, didn’t let himself get swept up in the others’ playful tone. his face went blank, like his thoughts had already moved on to something more important; a case, a clue, anything but this pointless conversation. the weight of his silence made it clear: to him, this was just familiar noise.
youngjae sat back in his seat, his gaze flicking between the two hoons and junghwan. his forehead creased slightly, a mix of confusion and mild exasperation playing across his face; why were they always like this? but then again, maybe that was just how their friendship worked.
youngjae had grown up in gimhae, where things weren’t like this. relationships were even more selective there, people far more calculating. if he didn’t have what the popular boys at his school wanted, usually money or the right look, they acted like he didn’t exist. he still remembered the times he’d blown his savings on clothes just to fit in with a crowd that turned out to be nothing but unhappy snobs, those egos too big for their tiny, boring town.
seoul was different. here, he shopped at markets, hunted for vintage finds, and no one batted an eye if he repeated outfits. here, he was a second-year med student, openly gay, and unapologetically flirty with anyone who caught his eye. life in seoul didn’t just feel like survival. youngjae was finally living. he and hanjin were inseparable partners in crime, in gossip, in analyzing the love lives of everyone in school, but not only. junghwan didn’t get it. he didn’t get youngjae’s need to broadcast every crush, every flirtation, every passing thought. but he didn’t judge. he just… didn’t engage.
in other words, they shared the same stage but never the same scene.
junghwan was the kind of person people would notice immediately and then immediately regret looking at. he was very tall and sharp, not in a clean way — he felt constantly on edge. it wasn’t just that he didn’t care about being seen; he looked physically annoyed by the fact that people had eyes. he’d drift through the hallways with his hands shoved so deep into his hoodie pockets it looked like he was trying to hide his own skin, eyes focused on anything but another human being.
there was this unspoken rule among everyone: don't bother shin junghwan. he wasn't just the mysterious type; he was just genuinely hostile to small talk. his default was a scowl, and if someone was brave enough to ask him something, they’d get a one-word answer that made them wish they hadn't. people would look, sure, but they’d look away just as fast. after a while, ignoring him became the only way to deal with him.
youngjae and junghwan weren’t really friends. they barely spoke. their interactions were limited to occasional nods, a muttered greeting if youngjae was feeling particularly stubborn, and the unspoken understanding that junghwan’s silence wasn’t personal. it was just junghwan. youngjae didn’t take it as a challenge, unlike some of the others who had, at one point or another, tried to ‘break through’ junghwan’s walls. he simply accepted it. if junghwan wanted to sit in the corner during group outings, glaring at his phone or flipping the thick pages of his book, that was his way to socialize. if he suddenly wanted to leave, no one chased after him. it was a dynamic that worked.
junghwan’s eyes flicked to his wristwatch. the hands had crept past five. he exhaled through his nose, a quiet sound lost in the noise. the leather cover pressed against the dried leaf bookmark hanjin had given him last autumn, its edges slightly frayed from use. he slid the bookmark into place, his thumb lingering for a second on the delicate veins of the leaf before he set the book aside.
he stood in one fluid motion, the movement drawing the group’s attention like a powerful magnet: dohoon’s sentence cut off mid-word. jihoon’s smirk faltered. kyungmin’s fingers were still on the fries he was about to eat. even hanjin, usually too absorbed in youngjae’s drama, looked up.
junghwan adjusted the strap of his bag, his hoodie shifting slightly with the movement. “it’s getting late. i have to go,” he said, his voice low but clear. no apology, no hesitation. just a statement.
and then he was walking away, his steps unhurried, the soles of his sneakers almost not making a sound against the pavement. no one called after him and no one expected him to stay.
youngjae watched him leave.
his gaze followed the line of junghwan’s back, how his hoodie draped over his shoulders, even the slight hunch when he reached to adjust his bag. once junghwan left, he never looked back. youngjae allowed himself to blink only when the figure blurred into the crowd of students. now his mind could get back to where it left. he sighed deeply, then he pulled his phone from his pocket. his thumb hovered over the screen for a second before unlocking it, swiping until he found the article he’d saved earlier.
‘the ice prince of seoul national: silence breeds curiosity.’
the anonymous post was long, detailed. it talked about junghwan’s presence in the library, how his height made him stand out in any room, how his cold expression had earned him the nickname ice prince. the comments below were a chorus of agreement from girls and from some guys too, gushing over his looks, his mysterious story, him appearing as untouchable.
then there were the theories: whispered in dorm rooms, debated over study sessions, and passed around like contraband. some swore his looks and that unshakable aura weren’t just coincidence; he had to be descended from some obscure royal lineage, a lost prince hiding in plain sight, his attitude just a mask for nobility. others, maybe more pragmatic, stated that he was the heir to some corporate empire, the son of a tycoon who’d sent him to university to experience normal life before taking over the family business. a few even claimed he was a prodigy, marked for something extraordinary, his silence not indifference but the quiet confidence of someone who already knew his future was written in gold.
youngjae scrolled, his thumb moving faster as the praise mounted. so handsome. i’d die if he even looked at me. he’s like a character from a drama.
his mouth twisted. they only saw the surface. appearance didn’t let them see the way junghwan frowned when interested in a crime case, how his jaw tightened when he was thinking. and not just this.
they didn’t see junghwan passing the chopsticks to everyone at the table before taking a pair for himself; or holding doors open, not just for girls, but for anyone behind him, his expression unchanging, like it was the most natural thing in the world. also, they didn’t see him pouring water in the others’ glasses, volunteering to cook when they crashed at someone’s place, his sleeves rolled up, forearms dusted with flour. they didn’t hear him clapping at karaoke, even when the singing was terrible, or the way he’d murmur you did well after a presentation, so quiet you had to strain to hear it.
again, they didn’t know how he’d stay up late to help dohoon with an assignment, or how he’d listen — really listen — when kyungmin ranted about sociology theories, nodding at the right moments like he actually cared. they couldn’t possibly understand how his eyes softened when hanjin made a dumb joke, or how he’d sometimes leave a snack in youngjae’s locker when he knew he’d skipped breakfast.
youngjae’s chest ached. junghwan was beautiful, yes. but not just in the way the article described. his real beauty was in how he existed: he was quiet, tender, kind in ways no one ever bothered to notice. and yet, youngjae felt far away from telling he was junghwan’s friend, because — just like the others — he knew what he could see. nothing more.
he was so deep in thoughts that let out another breath, his thumb hovered on the screen until it went dark. when he looked up, hanjin was staring at him, eyebrows knitted in confusion.
“what?” youngjae asked, his voice soft.
hanjin opened his mouth, then closed it, shaking his head slightly. “nothing. you just look…”
youngjae didn’t wait for hanjin to finish processing his sudden shift in mood. he shoved his phone into his back pocket with a dramatic sigh, stretching his arms overhead before slumping into an exaggerated pout: “hanjin-ah… i’m so bored,” he whined, kicking at the leg of the bench with his sneaker. “sitting here with these freaks…” he shot a playful glare at dohoon, who responded with a snort, “… is getting tiring. i want ice cream. come with me.”
hanjin blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt change, but then his usual easy grin spread across his face. “okay, okay, i’m always in for ice cream,” he laughed, shaking his head. “but you’re buying.”
youngjae was already on his feet, dusting off the back of his jeans. “obviously. i’m not cheap,” he shot back, but his eyes but his eyes darted to where junghwan had disappeared, as if expecting him to suddenly reappear.
“can i come?” jihoon piped up, tilting his head. “i’ve been craving something sweet all day.”
dohoon groaned, pushing himself up from the bench. “no… i’m out. unfortunately i’ve got a paper to finish.” he clapped kyungmin on the shoulder. “you coming with me, or are you gonna let these idiots drag you into their sugar coma?”
kyungmin smirked, then he adjusted his glasses. “nah. someone’s gotta keep the intellectual standards high around you, hyung. let’s go,” he waved the others off, “oh… youngjae hyung, this time try not to get a stomachache.”
youngjae waved back, but he was already grinning as he looped his arm through hanjin’s. “come on, losers. there’s a new place near the train station. the best soft serve in the city… they say.”
the ice cream shop was one of those trendy spots that had popped up overnight, all pastel walls — pretty pinks, lovely yellows — and instagram-worthy neon signs. youngjae immediately reached the counter, his eyes scanning the menu like it was a life-or-death decision. “for me… watermelon syrup sundae,” he declared, pointing at the picture. “with extra whipped cream. and sprinkles. lots of sprinkles, please.”
hanjin rolled his eyes but ordered his usual double chocolate in a waffle cone; jihoon hesitated before settling on a triple-scoop cone with pistachio, strawberry, and something sugary called honey butter. “i want to try a bit of everything,” he explained, already licking a drip before it could fall.
they grabbed a table on the second floor, a quiet, reserved one. by then, the evening light painted the streets beautifully. youngjae dug into his sundae with a dramatic movement, the first spoonful making him groan in exaggerated delight. “oh my god,” he moaned, “this is heaven. hanjin, try it.” he shoved the spoon toward hanjin’s mouth before his friend could protest.
hanjin took the bite, then immediately grabbed for his own cone. “too sweet,” he complained, but youngjae just grinned, already offering jihoon a taste.
jihoon took it, his eyes widening. “okay, yeah. that’s good,” he admitted, then held out his cone. “here, try mine.”
youngjae didn’t need to be told twice. he took a lick of the honey butter, humming in approval. “not bad. but mine’s still better.”
for a while, they just ate in comfortable silence, the kind that only comes with old friends. then hanjin wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back. “so. exams. how screwed are we?”
jihoon groaned, dropping his forehead onto the table. “i haven’t even started studying for stats.”
“anatomy wants me dead,” youngjae admitted, scraping the bottom of his cup. “but honestly? i’d rather talk about anything else. like, i don’t know—” he waved his spoon “… why is junghwan hyung so mysterious all the time?”
jihoon paused, his cone halfway to his mouth. he was the closest to junghwan in their little group, the one who’d known him the longest. “he’s not mysterious,” he said after a moment. “he’s just… private. and you know that,” he licked his ice cream thoughtfully. “i’ll confess: i tried asking him about personal stuff, but he doesn’t like talking about himself. he’d rather focus on what’s here…” he gestured vaguely with his cone. “the present. the few interesting people in front of him.”
youngjae nodded slowly, something warm unfurling in his chest. because that sounded so much like junghwan. it was almost cute; him giving his attention only to what mattered. “i get that,” he said softly.
hanjin, who had been scrolling on his phone, suddenly perked up. “oh… hell—” he turned the screen toward them, his eyes wide. “new gossip alert. another couple just got confirmed. what’s in the air lately?”
youngjae peeked at the blog post, then leaned back with a sigh. “ugh. everyone’s pairing up except me.” he pouted, stirring the empty cup, craving for more. “i want a boyfriend. but no one’s gay enough. or interesting, i guess.”
jihoon snorted. “i’ll be your boyfriend.”
youngjae gasped: “jihoon-ah… thank you, you’re cute,” then he reached over and booped him on the nose, “but no. i need a real boyfriend. one i can—” he wiggled his eyebrows, then made a series of increasingly obscene hand gestures that had jihoon choking on his ice cream and hanjin dissolving into laughter.
“you’re disgusting,” jihoon said, but he was grinning.
youngjae just winked. “yeah, i know you love me.”
hanjin shook his head, still laughing, and tossed his napkin at youngjae. “come on, youngjae hyung. let’s get you home before you start flirting with strangers.”
they finally stood, deciding to step back into the warm evening air. youngjae slung an arm around hanjin’s shoulders, his other hand stealing the grape-flavoured candy jihoon had in his hands. “that was fun, but… next time, ice prince…” he shook his head, “i mean… ice cream; ice cream’s on you guys,” he concluded, already planning another outing.