Work Text:
1
Shin hated math. He wasn’t terrible at it, but he didn’t particularly like spending his Friday night drowning in numbers either. If he had things his way, he’d be in bed, scrolling through his phone, or watching some stupid variety show that Sant always rolled his eyes at. But no—midterms were coming up, and apparently, his best friend had decided that failing wasn’t an option.
"Focus," Saint muttered, tapping the eraser end of his pencil against Shin’s notebook. "You’re zoning out again."
Shin blinked, snapping back to reality. "I am not."
Saint gave him a look. That look—the one that screamed I know you’re lying, but I’ll let you dig your own grave.
"Okay, maybe a little," Shin admitted, slumping against the desk. "This is boring."
"You think everything is boring."
"That’s not true. I think eating is fun. Sleeping is fun. Watching you suffer is very fun."
Saint rolled his eyes but didn’t hide the small smile playing on his lips. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms before turning back to his own notebook. The warm glow of the desk lamp cast soft shadows over his face, highlighting the curve of his cheekbones and the way his lashes flickered whenever he glanced down at the paper. Shin found himself watching, his mind drifting from equations to something else entirely.
Saint’s lips.
It wasn’t intentional. He didn’t mean to stare. But the way Saint’s tongue darted out to wet his lower lip before biting down in concentration—
Shin immediately looked away, his heart doing something weird in his chest. What the hell?
"You okay?" Saint asked, tilting his head.
Shin forced a scowl. "Yeah. Why?"
Saint raised a brow. "You just made a face like you swallowed a bug."
Shin groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. "I hate math."
"We’ve established that."
I hate my brain more, Shin wanted to say but swallowed the words. He wasn’t even sure what was happening. He had known Saint for years, fought with him over the dumbest things, annoyed him to hell and back. So why, out of nowhere, was his brain deciding to hyper-fixate on Saint’s stupid mouth?
Nope. Not happening.
Shin shook his head, stuffing whatever weird thought this was deep into the abyss of his mind. He was just tired. That was it. Maybe he needed more sleep. Maybe he needed to stop studying this late. Maybe he was just curious—yeah, that was a logical explanation.
Curiosity.
It meant nothing.
"Shin," Saint called, dragging him back to reality. "This problem isn’t gonna solve itself."
"Yeah, yeah," Shin muttered, gripping his pencil a little too hard as he forced his attention back to the numbers in front of him, ignoring the warmth creeping up his neck and the pounding in his chest that had nothing to do with math.
——
2
Shin wasn’t sure why he invited Saint over again. Well, technically, he had an excuse. Chingching needed help with her third-grade math assignment, and Shin had definitely forgotten everything about fractions and word problems. But if he was being honest with himself, that wasn’t the real reason.
It had been a while since they made up after years of tension, and Shin found himself missing the familiarity of Saint’s presence. Things weren’t exactly the same, but they were getting there. Maybe that’s why he felt a little too relieved when Saint said yes.
Saint showed up in a loose hoodie, glasses perched on his nose, looking like he had just rolled out of bed. Shin had to look away, ignoring the way his heart did that stupid thing again.
"Where’s Chingching?" Saint asked as he set his bag down.
"Asleep," Shin admitted, scratching the back of his head. "She was tired."
Saint frowned. "So you don’t actually need my help."
Shin coughed. "I mean—I do! Kinda. Sorta. Math is hard, okay?"
Saint snorted. "You are so full of shit."
Shin rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he let Saint settle in at the dining table, their old study spot. They talked a little, going over random things—school, work, stupid things from middle school that made them cringe. It was… nice.
At some point, Shin got up to grab something from the kitchen, and when he returned, Saint had fallen asleep at the table, cheek pressed against the open pages of a notebook, breathing softly.
Shin stopped in his tracks, feeling something in his chest twist.
Saint looked peaceful. He always did when he was asleep. Shin swallowed, walking closer and hesitating. He could see the way Saint’s lashes fluttered slightly, the soft part of his lips barely parted—
Nope. Nope, we are not doing this.
Just as he was about to shake himself out of it, a tiny voice piped up behind him.
"P’Shin, what are you doing?"
Shin nearly jumped out of his skin. Chingching stood at the doorway, rubbing her eyes sleepily, looking at him like she had caught him committing a crime.
"Nothing!" Shin hissed, waving his hands. "Go back to sleep!"
Chingching narrowed her eyes at him before glancing at Saint, then back at him, before letting out a sleepy hum and shuffling back to her room.
Shin let out a breath, shaking his head.
He was losing it.
——
3
It wasn’t a date. Absolutely not. Just two friends getting ice cream. That’s what Shin told himself as he waited for Saint outside the shop, hands stuffed into his pockets.
Saint arrived with his usual easygoing smile, brushing his bangs out of his face as he handed Shin a cone. "Here. Chocolate, right?"
"Yeah. Thanks." Shin took it, licking his ice cream quickly to avoid eye contact.
They sat on a nearby bench, eating in comfortable silence. But then—
"You got some on your face," Shin said before thinking.
Saint blinked. "Huh? Where?"
Before Shin could stop himself, he reached out, swiping the bit of melted ice cream off Saint’s lower lip with his thumb. The second he realized what he did, he froze.
Saint stared at him, eyes wide. Shin yanked his hand back like he’d been burned, clearing his throat. "Uh. Never mind."
Saint was still staring. Still frozen.
Shin could feel his heart pounding.
"Right," Saint finally said, voice softer than usual. "Thanks."
Shin swallowed hard. He was so, so screwed.
——
4
Shin was scowling. He knew he was, but he couldn’t stop. Across the cafeteria, Saint was talking to a girl—she was smiling, twirling a strand of her hair, and Saint… well, he wasn’t exactly encouraging her, but he wasn’t shutting her down either. Shin stabbed his fork into his food, ignoring the knowing look Chadjen was giving him.
"Uh, are you okay?" Chadjen asked, voice laced with confusion.
"I’m fine," Shin grumbled.
He wasn’t.
He spent the rest of the day sulking, snapping at his friends when they asked what was wrong. Every time he saw Saint, he got this weird, heavy feeling in his chest, and he hated it. He hated how Saint wasn’t even doing anything wrong, how he was just being his usual friendly self. But why did it bother him so much?
Later, when they met up after class, Saint took one look at Shin’s face and sighed. "Okay. What’s wrong?"
"Nothing," Shin muttered, crossing his arms. He knew he was acting stupid, but he couldn’t stop himself.
Saint squinted at him. "You’ve been acting weird all day."
Shin rolled his eyes. "No, I haven’t."
Saint huffed but didn’t push. Instead, he reached into his bag and pulled out a small plastic bag, shoving it into Shin’s hands.
"Here. I saw this yesterday when dad took me grocery shopping and thought of you."
Shin peeked inside—a My Melody keychain. His favorite. His throat tightened. "Why?"
Saint scratched his head. "You were sulking."
Shin tensed. "I wasn’t."
Saint smirked. "You were."
Shin clutched the keychain, warmth creeping up his neck. He felt ridiculous, but somehow, the little trinket made him feel… better. Less restless. Less jealous. Still, the question nagged at him.
"What about that girl?" he asked, his voice tight.
Saint blinked. "What girl?"
"The one who asked you out."
Saint’s expression didn’t change. "Oh. I rejected her. Nicely."
Shin exhaled, feeling something in his chest loosen, though he still didn’t know why he was so relieved. "Oh."
Saint grinned. "You’re so weird."
Shin scowled, gripping the keychain tighter. "Shut up."
Saint just laughed, bumping their shoulders together, and Shin had to look away before he did something really stupid—like admit his growing feelings that definitely weren't platonic at all.
——
+1
Shin didn’t do feelings. He especially didn’t do talking about feelings. But now, standing outside the café, waiting for Saint, he felt like a complete mess.
It was Valentine’s Day. It was their Valentine’s Day, and Shin was going to tell Saint what this meant—out loud, in words, even if it killed him.
Saint arrived with his usual easy smile, a scarf wrapped loosely around his neck, and Shin had to force himself to stay still.
"Hey," Saint greeted, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "You okay? You look like you saw a ghost."
Shin scoffed. "No. Just… let’s go inside."
The café was warm, a stark contrast to the cold outside. They sat in a booth by the window, both quiet as they sipped their drinks. Shin could feel the tension building, thick and unbearable. Just say it.
"So," Saint started, watching him curiously. "Is this a date?"
Shin nearly choked on his drink. "What?"
Saint tilted his head. "I mean, you asked me out today. On Valentine's." He purses his lips. "Am I wrong for assuming this is something more?"
Shin tensed, gripping his cup. "Would it be bad if it was?"
Saint blinked. The teasing light in his eyes dimmed slightly, replaced with something softer. "No. It wouldn't be bad."
Shin exhaled slowly. "Then… yeah. It’s a date."
Saint didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he leaned back, watching Shin carefully. "I kinda figured. You’ve been acting weird for months."
Shin scowled. "I do not act weird."
Saint smirked. "You sulk when I talk to other people. You glare at anyone who flirts with me. You turned red when I gave you that My Melody keychain."
Shin gritted his teeth. "You have a big mouth."
"And you have a big crush on me."
Shin wanted to sink into the floor. Instead, he swallowed down his embarrassment and muttered, "Yeah. I do."
Saint’s teasing expression softened. "Good. Because I like you too."
Shin’s breath hitched. He looked up, meeting Saint’s gaze, warm and steady. "You do?"
Saint rolled his eyes. "Obviously. Why do you think I always let you get away with your moods?" He leaned forward slightly. "Why do you think I never say yes when someone else asks me out?"
Shin was still trying to process that when Saint’s hand reached across the table, brushing against his. He stared at their fingers, barely touching, before hesitantly curling his own around Saint’s.
Saint smiled, squeezing his hand. "You gonna kiss me, or do I have to do all the work?"
Shin's eyes widened. "You're crazy. Here?"
Saint replies with his signature smirk. "What, you scared?"
Shin huffed, heart hammering in his chest. "Shut up."
And then he leaned forward, closing the distance, pressing his lips against Saint’s.
It wasn’t perfect. Shin was stiff at first, nervous, but Saint just smiled against his lips, tilting his head slightly, guiding him into something softer, slower. The café noise faded, the world narrowing to just this—Saint’s warmth, the way their fingers remained laced together, the feeling of finally getting what he wanted.
When they pulled apart, Saint grinned. "You're blushing, Shin."
Shin groaned, dropping his head against Saint’s shoulder. "I hate you."
Saint laughed, squeezing his hand again. "No, you don’t."
Shin didn’t answer, but he didn’t let go either.