Hwang Hyunjin, 22, is the son of a powerful CEO and attends the most expensive college in Korea—a place where every path for the future can be found. Groomed to inherit his father’s empire, Hyunjin is the perfect heir: tall, broad-shouldered, chiseled, and intimidatingly handsome. Yet, underneath, he’s questioning parts of himself—especially his sexuality.

Kim Seungmin, 20, is soft-spoken but sharp, the son of two psychologists, following in their footsteps at the same elite institution. With his petite frame, delicate features, and kind aura, he’s the opposite of Hyunjin, but also his balance. Seungmin knows what he wants—he’s into men, and he’s accepted that about himself.

They’ve been dorm mates for almost a year, sharing a sleek, luxurious room with floor-to-ceiling windows and polished marble floors. Their lives have been running parallel until one quiet night of studying and careless honesty brings them closer than either expected.

⸻

Seungmin sat at his desk, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he scrolled through another thick psychology case study. The soft hum of the city leaked in through the tall glass windows of their dorm, a reflection of polished marble and muted lamplight stretching across the room.

He paused only to scribble a note in his open book, his pen tapping lightly against the page. The dorm was quiet—too quiet. Usually Hyunjin had music playing low, or the faint sound of his voice on a phone call. Tonight, only the soft rush of the bathroom fan could be heard.

The door clicked open.

Seungmin looked up, and his breath caught.

Hyunjin stepped out of the bathroom, steam curling behind him. His damp hair clung to his forehead and he dragged a towel across the back of his neck, droplets of water catching the glow of the recessed ceiling lights. He wore nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, slung low enough to reveal the ridges of his abs, his shoulders broad, skin still glistening from the shower.

Seungmin’s eyes lingered. Too long. Heat rushed to his face, and he clapped a hand over his mouth before forcing his gaze back to the computer screen. His fingers hovered stiffly above the keyboard, though his mind was nowhere near the words on the screen anymore.

From across the room, Hyunjin’s voice rumbled low.

“I forgot…” he muttered, rubbing the towel through his hair, “that you were into men.”

Seungmin’s hand froze on his mouth, his chest tightening. Slowly, cautiously, he glanced back at Hyunjin. The older boy wasn’t mocking him—his tone wasn’t cruel. Instead, his gaze was thoughtful, unreadable, like he was working out a puzzle in his head.