Three Years Ago, School's Soccer Field.
Jay wasn't supposed to stop.
He had been walking past the soccer field, barely paying attention, when his eyes landed on Han River.
Effortless. Smooth. Beautiful.
He wasn't officially on the team, yet he played like he owned the field. His movements were sharp but fluid, his footwork almost too graceful for a sport built on aggression. The sun caught in his dark, slightly damp hair, his skin glowing with sweat.
Jay had always noticed Han, but Han had never noticed him.
And yet-
When the game ended and Han tugged off his jersey, Jay felt his stomach tighten.
His bare torso was unreal.
Lean, sculpted, sweat trailing over toned abs, sliding down his sharp V-line before disappearing into the waistband of his shorts. His collarbones jutted out just enough to look delicate, but the defined muscles on his arms and stomach screamed something else entirely.
Jay wasn't the only one staring.
Girls on the sidelines giggled behind their hands. Even some guys, the kind who wouldn't usually look, stole glances before quickly looking away.
But Han?
He acted like he knew exactly what he was doing.
A teasing smirk, a slow exhale. Unbothered. In control.
Then-
A teammate approached him. Not just casually-intimately.
The guy grinned, sweat dripping from his forehead as he walked up behind Han, his fingers grazing Han's lower back before sliding down-just enough to slip slightly under the waistband of his shorts.
Jay's breath hitched.
It was subtle. Barely there. But it was there.
Han didn't flinch. Didn't move away. He let it happen.
Instead, he exhaled a slow, lazy breath, tilting his head slightly as if amused. Like he was used to this. Like this wasn't the first time someone had tried something bold with him.
Then, in a smooth motion, Han turned his head, his lips just inches from the other guy's ear.
A smirk. A whisper.
The guy chuckled.
Jay clenched his fists.
Heat surged up his neck, burning his skin, making his heart hammer so hard he could hear it.
It didn't mean anything.
It was just Han.
Just the way he was.
But then Han laughed-low, deep, the kind that settled in Jay's bones.
And suddenly, Jay felt it.
His body reacted before his brain could catch up.
A sharp inhale. A tight jaw. A heat curling low in his stomach, dangerous and unfamiliar.
And then it hit him like a slap.
He was aroused.
Jay turned away so fast he nearly tripped. He walked off without looking back, forcing himself to breathe.
No. This wasn't happening.
This wasn't him.
It was just Han.
Just Han's presence.
Just the way he moved, smirked, smelled, let people touch him like that--
Jay squeezed his eyes shut.
This had to stop.
But deep down, he knew it wouldn't.
--
Present Day, University Library.
But the image burned itself into Jay's mind. And years later, sitting in a university library, when Han smirked at him from across the table, Jay knew--
Han had known he liked him for a while now.
Jay was still gripping the edges of his notebook when Han got up from his seat.
He wasn't sure why he reacted so fast. His body moved before his brain could catch up, his feet carrying him forward as he watched Han casually step out of the library, hands in his pockets, the glow of the afternoon sun catching the sharp curve of his jawline.
It was ridiculous. Stupid, even. What was he doing?
But Jay followed.
Of course, he wasn't the only one.
Han didn't walk through campus-he glided. And like moths to a flame, people naturally gravitated toward him. Not just girls, but guys too, whether they admitted it or not. It wasn't just his face, though that alone was enough to ruin lives. It was the way he moved. The way he barely acknowledged the attention, yet somehow commanded it.
And then there was his scent.
Jay had noticed it before but never this closely. A mix of something fresh, almost citrusy, but deepened by something warm-sandalwood, maybe. It was intoxicating, subtle but unmistakable.
Han smelled dangerous.
Jay swallowed hard.
Han turned a corner.
Jay hesitated only for a second before following.
But when he stepped outside-
Han was gone.
Jay stopped in his tracks, scanning the open courtyard, his pulse still unsteady. He had just been there. Where was he-?
He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair.
It was stupid. So stupid. What had he expected? That he'd catch up to Han and what-say something? Do something?
No. That wasn't how this worked.
Han River was a force of nature. And Jay...
Jay was no one.
A quiet, forgettable face in the background. Unattractive. Unremarkable. The complete opposite of Han in every possible way.
He had planned to hide this forever, to bury the ridiculous, humiliating crush he had harbored since high school. It was never meant to be anything more than that.
And yet, today, for the first time in years, he had almost chased after him.
Jay exhaled, shaking his head. I'm pathetic.
"You good, man?"
A hand clapped his shoulder, yanking him out of his spiraling thoughts.
Jay turned to see Steve, his bright, grinning friend, looking at him with amusement.
Beside him stood Chi-chi, quiet as always, but attentive, watching Jay like he knew something was up.
Steve, unlike Jay, was attractive in a way that people noticed. Bright, confident, always the life of the room. He was also on the soccer team since high school, meaning-of course-he knew Han.
And of course, he immediately saw through Jay.
"Don't tell me," Steve said, crossing his arms with a smirk. "You were totally following Han just now, weren't you?"
Jay froze. "What? No."
"Uh-huh," Steve drawled. "You gonna lie to me and Chi-chi?"
Chi-chi didn't say anything, but his small nod of agreement made Jay groan.
"Seriously, I wasn't-"
"Bro, you were." Steve leaned in, dropping his voice. "Look, I get it. Han's unreal. Even straight guys look at him like they're questioning their entire existence."
Jay stiffened.
Steve raised an eyebrow. "Oh." His smirk deepened. "So it is like that."
Jay wanted to collapse. "Shut up."
Chi-chi chuckled softly.
Steve laughed, clapping Jay's back. "Relax, dude. It's not that deep. Han's got this... thing, y'know? No shame in noticing it. Everyone does."
Jay knew that.
He had known it for years.
Han was the kind of person people fell for without meaning to. The kind of beauty that made people forget things like sexuality and logic.
It wasn't just about attraction.
It was the way Han carried himself. The way he knew his effect on people. The way he could flirt with anyone-and make them want it.
Han could have anyone.
And yet, somehow, it was Jay who was left holding onto memories -- everything written on his notebook.
Memories Han didn't care about.
Jay clenched his fists.
Steve watched him, the teasing edge fading just slightly. "Hey, don't overthink it."
Jay forced a breath. "I'm not."
"Uh-huh," Steve said, unconvinced.
Chi-chi finally spoke, his voice quiet but steady. "If it bothers you this much, maybe it's worth thinking about."
Jay didn't answer.
He just looked up, scanning the campus again.
Still no sign of Han.
But his presence still lingered. In Jay's mind. In his pulse.
And in the way his heart hadn't settled since the moment he saw him again.