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College had a way of turning people into routines.
Morning coffee from the same café. The same cracked sidewalk outside the humanities building. The same group of boys claiming the corner table in the student union like it had been legally deeded to them.
And in the middle of all of that sameness sat Felix and Jeongin, being the least subtle “not-a-couple” anyone had ever seen.
Felix always arrived first. Not because he was punctual—Gosh, no—but because Jeongin had a habit of oversleeping, and Felix liked having his drink ready before Jeongin even walked in. He’d sit there, long limbs folded awkwardly, scrolling through his phone while absently stirring his iced latte, eyes flicking up every time the door opened.
Jeongin would come rushing in ten minutes later, backpack half-zipped, hair a mess, cheeks pink from the cold.
“Sweetheart,” Felix would say automatically, smiling like the sun just clocked in. “You run all the way?”
Jeongin would nod, a little breathless, and drop into the chair beside Felix without hesitation—beside, never across. Always close enough that their arms brushed. Always close enough that Felix could reach out and straighten Jeongin’s collar, or wipe a crumb from his lip, or tuck his hair behind his ear like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You’re gonna be late to your own wedding one day,” Felix would scold softly, pushing the coffee toward him.
Jeongin would take it with both hands, eyes warm. “You’re here. It’s fine.”
And Felix would just hum, satisfied, because apparently that answer made complete sense to both of them.
No one else understood it. Not really.
The friend group—Chan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Seungmin—had long since stopped questioning why Jeongin only leaned against Felix during movie nights, or why Felix automatically reached for Jeongin’s wrist when crossing busy streets, or why Jeongin refused hugs from literally anyone else but melted like warm butter the second Felix touched him.
It was just… how things were.
Felix called Jeongin honey when he was sleepy, sweetheart when he was stressed, baby when he was teasing him. Jeongin never corrected him. Never flinched. Never even joked about it. He just accepted it like those words had always belonged to Felix’s mouth.
Jeongin, in return, followed Felix like gravity was optional. If Felix asked him to grab notes from class, Jeongin did it. If Felix asked him to stay up late helping with an essay, Jeongin brewed coffee and stayed. If Felix asked him to sit closer, Jeongin was already moving before the sentence finished.
Sometimes—rarely, but often enough to be noticeable—Felix would press a quick kiss to Jeongin’s cheek. Just a soft peck. Usually when Jeongin did something particularly sweet. Usually when Felix was proud of him.
Jeongin would flush, smile, and carry on like nothing monumental had just happened.
Everyone else would stare.
“So,” Changbin had said once, during a late-night ramen run. “You two are dating, right?”
Felix had blinked. “Huh?”
Jeongin had nearly dropped his chopsticks. “What?”
Chan stared at them over his cup. “You are not?”
Felix laughed, high and confused. “No? We’re just close.”
“Very close,” Minho muttered.
Hyunjin squinted. “Felix, you literally called him ‘my honey’ in front of a professor last week.”
Felix shrugged. “He likes it.”
All eyes turned to Jeongin.
Jeongin nodded earnestly. “I do.”
Seungmin buried his face in his hands.
They let it go after that, because arguing with Felix and Jeongin about their relationship—or lack thereof—felt like arguing with a brick wall that smiled sweetly and handed you snacks.
But the assumptions never stopped.
People on campus thought they were together. Baristas typed their orders as one. (Jeongin would still pay for both of them anyways.) Upperclassmen referred to them as “that cute couple from music theory.” Even their professors occasionally made jokes about them being inseparable.
Felix and Jeongin remained oblivious.
To them, it was simple. Felix was Felix. Jeongin was Jeongin. They fit together. That was that.
The turning point came on a rainy Thursday.
The kind of rain that soaked through jeans and turned umbrellas inside out. Felix had forgotten his jacket. Jeongin had one, of course, and immediately draped it over Felix’s shoulders without a second thought.
“You’ll get sick,” Jeongin said, frowning.
Felix smiled, tugging the jacket tighter. “You’re such a good boyfriend.”
Jeongin didn’t even hesitate. “For you? Always.”
Chan, who had been walking a few steps ahead, stopped dead in his tracks and turned around.
“Oh my Gosh,” he said. “You’re kidding.”
The others gathered around, curiosity sparked.
Hyunjin’s eyes lit up. “Is it happening? Is this the moment?”
Felix looked genuinely lost. “The moment for what?”
“For you two to realize you’re basically married,” Changbin said.
Jeongin shook his head quickly. “No, no, we’re not—”
“You kiss his cheek,” Seungmin said flatly.
“Platonically,” Felix offered weakly.
“You call him sweetheart,” Minho added.
“That’s just… affection?”
“You refuse to let anyone else touch you,” Chan said to Jeongin.
Jeongin frowned. “Felix feels safe.”
The group collectively groaned.
“Guys,” Felix said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re just friends.”
Chan cleared his throat loudly. “We’re gonna… go. Talk this out. Before I combust.”
The group scattered faster than anyone thought possible.
Left alone under the gray sky, Felix and Jeongin stood inches apart.
Felix reached out, thumb brushing Jeongin’s wrist. Jeongin leaned into it automatically. He started to think about a lot of things. He thought about Jeongin. He thought about himself. He thought about them together. He realized that he liked the thought of them together.
“You don’t have to change anything,” Felix said softly. “I just—if you want more. I want more too.”
Jeongin’s eyes shone. “I think I do.”
Felix smiled, warm and sure. “Yang Jeongin, would you like to go on a real date with me?”
Jeongin laughed, breathless and happy, and nodded. “If you’d like the pleasure of taking me. And I’ll try not to be late.”
Felix laughed and pulled him into a hug, tight and real, and pressed a kiss to his cheek—then paused.
“Can I?” he asked, voice gentle.
Jeongin tilted his face up. “Please.”
This time, the kiss landed closer to his lips. Still soft. Still sweet. Still unmistakably them.
And when they walked back to campus, fingers intertwined, nobody was surprised.
Except maybe Felix and Jeongin themselves.