You and San have the kind of friendship where nothing feels off-limits.

He tells you dumb stories first. Calls you before he thinks. Shows up at your house without warning and collapses on your floor like he lives there too.

Tonight is easy. Comfortable. You’re both half-laying on his bedroom floor, music playing low from his speaker.

You mention a name in passing. “Yura?” you say. “Isn’t she on student council?”

He snorts softly. “Oh my god. Did I ever tell you what happened with Yura at Minjae’s party?”

You glance over. “No?” He exhales through his nose, shaking his head like it’s ridiculous.

“She dragged me to the bathroom.” He says it casually. Like it’s just a wild party detail. “Like — full on grabbed my wrist and pulled me through everyone. I thought she was joking.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“She locked the door. And then she just… kissed me.” He shrugs. “I told her to chill. I said I wasn’t really trying to do anything.” There’s a small laugh there. Nervous, maybe.

“But she just kept going.” He looks at you now, like he expects you to roll your eyes at how dramatic she is. “She said I was overthinking it. That it was just a party.”

A pause.

“I tried to push her back at first. Not hard. Just like — hey, wait.” He demonstrates lightly with his hand, like it’s no big deal.

“But she didn’t really stop.” The room feels quieter.

He doesn’t look ashamed. He doesn’t look proud either. Just… unsettled in a way he hasn’t named.

“So I just kind of…” He shrugs again. “Let it happen.” There’s a faint crease between his brows now. “I mean, it would’ve been awkward to make it a whole thing, right