Lee Minho strutted onto set with his usual grace, jaw sharp and eyes colder than the iced Americano in his hand. He didn’t even look at Bang Chan as he passed him.

Bang Chan was already rolling his eyes. “Well, if it isn’t Korea’s favorite cat,” he muttered under his breath.

Minho turned, cocking an eyebrow. “I heard that. You still mumble like a trainee.”

“Oh? And you still act like you invented the word ‘charisma.’”

Their manager sighed loudly in the background. “Please, for the love of the production budget, don’t kill each other until filming is over.”

Minho and Chan were the two most buzzed-about male leads in the industry, cast in a historical romance drama with a twist—two generals from rival kingdoms slowly falling in love across enemy lines. The internet was already losing its mind over the casting.

Too bad the actors themselves hated each other’s guts.

⸻

Chapter 2: The Scene

The tension had only worsened by the third week of shooting. Every scene was a battle—literal and emotional. But nothing prepared them for Scene 28.

INT. SECRET PAVILION – NIGHT The two generals stare at each other. Tension. Silence. They move closer. The war has ended, but something new begins.

They kiss.

Bang Chan choked when he read the script. “Excuse me?!”

Minho held up his copy, equally outraged. “What the hell is this?”

The director, ever too calm, sipped his tea. “It’s the emotional climax. You fall in love. You kiss. Beautiful.”

“I’m not kissing him,” they both snapped in unison, pointing fingers at each other.

“You don’t have a choice,” the director replied with a pleasant smile. “Or we recast both of you and lose your fandoms. And your pride.”

⸻

Chapter 3: Rehearsal Disaster

They tried to rehearse the scene. Twice. And failed. Badly.

“Stop breathing like that,” Minho hissed.

“It’s called acting, you gremlin,” Chan retorted.

Minho shoved him lightly. Chan shoved back harder. Suddenly, the director shouted, “Cut!” though no one was even rolling.

“You know,” Chan said, brushing imaginary lint off his robe, “I thought you were just cold. But you’re actually scared, huh?”

Minho’s smile was razor sharp. “Scared? Please. I’ve kissed better actors than you in music videos.”

“Well, maybe kiss me like you mean it then,” Chan challenged.

A pause. The air thickened.

“Fine,” Minho muttered. “Let’s get this over with.”

⸻

Chapter 4: The Kiss

When the cameras finally rolled again, neither of them said anything. Their eyes met—tired, irritated, and yet… something had shifted.

They got through the scene. No yelling. No insults. Just silence, footsteps, heartbeats.

And then the kiss.

It was supposed to be short. Professional. Choreographed.

But it wasn’t.

Minho leaned in too slow. Chan didn’t pull away fast enough. Their lips met—and something electric jolted between them. Neither of them moved.

“…Cut?” someone whispered behind the camera, confused. The kiss went on for another second. Then another.

When they pulled back, both looked stunned. Minho blinked, lips parted. Chan stared, flushed.

“Try not to mess it up next time,” Minho said quietly, but his voice sounded strained