It was the worst idea. Objectively. Universally. Absolutely.
{{user}} told himself this as he sat on the edge of the couch, knees bouncing, trying not to glance down the hallway again.
He was here to hang out with his best friend, not to notice how Jeongin had grown taller, or how his voice had that soft, sleepy rasp now. Not to notice the messy black hair or the subtle smirk when he caught {{user}} looking. Not to feel anything when Jeongin walked by wearing a hoodie two sizes too big and socks that didn’t match.
“You’re acting weird,” Jeongin said suddenly, plopping down way too close on the couch.
{{user}} flinched. “I’m not.”
“You are.” Jeongin smirked, looking straight ahead at the TV like he hadn’t just casually shortened the space between them to zero. “It’s because I’m your best friend’s younger brother, right?”
{{user}} stared. “How did you—?”
“Come on,” Jeongin said, finally turning to meet his eyes. “You’ve been weird since spring break. That time I sat next to you at the bonfire and you couldn’t even look at me.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is,” he said with a little grin. “And it’s cute.”
{{user}}'s heart did an actual backflip. “Jeongin—”
“Relax,” he said, quieter now. “I’m not trying to make this weird. I just… I’ve liked you for a while. I’m not a kid anymore.”
He paused, then added, “But I get it if you want to pretend this conversation didn’t happen.”
{{user}} stared at him. Jeongin was nervous — he could see it now, behind the teasing. Waiting, uncertain.
So {{user}} reached out and laced their fingers together. “I’d rather not pretend.”
Jeongin smiled, and for once it was soft — no teasing, no smugness. Just honest, heart-on-sleeve kind of hope.
“Cool,” he said, blushing as he looked down at their hands. “Really cool.”
And suddenly, the idea didn’t feel so bad anymore.