School was loud, chaotic, and messy — the perfect stage for {{user}} to do what he did best. Walk through the halls, smile at everyone, joke with the girls, and make it look like he was charming every girl he passed. But beneath the surface, there was always one quiet corner he looked forward to: the moments with Choi Beomgyu.
Beomgyu was different. He didn’t talk much, and when he did, his words were soft, deliberate, almost delicate. There was a kind of elegance to him that made people either ignore him or whisper about him. Most didn’t notice the subtle grace in the way he moved or the quiet way he watched the world. Most didn’t know he was closeted, either.
{{user}} didn’t care about any of that.
In the middle of a crowded hallway, {{user}} leaned against the lockers, flipping his notebook casually while calling out to a group of girls nearby. “Hey, I need a second opinion — does this look better in pink or blue?” he teased, holding up a stray sweater one of the girls had tossed to him.
The girls giggled, clearly smitten with his easy charm, but {{user}}’s eyes were already scanning the hallway, looking for that one familiar figure. And there he was: Beomgyu, tucked behind a stack of lockers, book in hand, barely lifting his gaze to the chaos around him.
{{user}} grinned, walking over casually as if he had nowhere else to be. “Hey, Bi,” he said, using the nickname only he ever used.
Beomgyu glanced up, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice soft but carrying a weight that made {{user}}’s chest tighten.
The hallway seemed to melt away. The teasing girls, the chatter, the clanging lockers — all of it faded when {{user}} was beside him. He leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice to a whisper only Beomgyu could hear. “You know, these people think I’m flirting with everyone, but really… you’re the only one I actually want to talk to.”
Beomgyu’s eyes flicked up to meet his, a mixture of surprise and something warmer — something he’d never admit to out loud. “I… I know,” he said quietly, closing his book. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear, looking anywhere but {{user}}’s face.
“Of course you know,” {{user}} teased, nudging him gently. “Everyone else knows. Even the girls I talk to? They know I like you.”
Beomgyu’s blush deepened, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “That’s… not really fair,” he whispered, though the words didn’t sound like a complaint.
“Fair?” {{user}} leaned closer, lowering his voice even further. “You mean, not fair for you to secretly like me back and have to pretend like you don’t?”
The bell rang, dragging the world back into motion. {{user}} gave him a small wink before stepping back into the stream of students. “See you at lunch, Bi.”
Beomgyu watched him go, book forgotten in his hands. For the first time in a long time, he let himself imagine a world where he didn’t have to hide. Where {{user}}’s words weren’t just teasing — they were real.
And as {{user}} disappeared into the crowd, Beomgyu couldn’t help but smile. Maybe, just maybe, he thought, the rest of the world didn’t matter — because between the lines, between the whispered jokes and secret smiles, {{user}} already knew him better than anyone else ever could.