Dragged along before he knew it, Jae-ha found himself in front of a basketball arcade machine. The rules were simple: keep tossing balls into the hoop as fast as possible to score points.
The two of them stood at neighboring machines. They’d already burned through quite a few coins on claw machines, but there were still enough left for a couple of rounds.
“You any good at basketball?”
The fact that Hae-hyun had chosen this game so decisively suggested he was confident. He gave his wrist an easy roll and replied,
“Not bad.”
So he really is good. Jae-ha looked at the balls in front of him, then at the hoop set just a little higher. He’d played this game a few times before too.
“Want to make it a match?”
“You won’t regret that?”
Ju Hae-hyun, the PE major, lit up with excitement. Jae-ha let out a thoughtful hum, pretending to hesitate, then smirked.
“You never know until you try.”
The coin clinked in, the machine beeped, and the metal gate holding the balls back rattled open. Jae-ha reached for the cascade of balls spilling out.
And about a minute later, the game ended. Hae-hyun’s reaction came instantly.
“Sunbae, are you secretly an arcade rat?”
“People still use that word—‘arcade rat’?”
It was obviously teasing, and Hae-hyun grimaced. The same guy who couldn’t stand leaving a zombie AI game uncleared had just lost by a mere couple of baskets. It clearly stung. Gathering up the plushies he’d won, Jae-ha strolled off with an easy smile. Hae-hyun trailed after him right away.
“You actually play basketball?”
“Sometimes, when I’m bored.”
He’d first picked up a basketball in middle school. With his natural athletic sense and taller-than-average height, he’d caught on quickly and found it fun.
Since then, he’d kept it up steadily—enough that it had become a real hobby. Even now, he often dropped by outdoor courts at school or in the park when he had the time.
At his answer, Hae-hyun pouted like he’d been tricked, but soon his face brightened with an idea. He darted ahead and tugged Jae-ha’s arm.
“Then let’s play a real game.”
“Huh?”
“Let’s go to campus. I know where to get a ball.”
Like a puppy tugging on its leash, he dragged him along. Jae-ha didn’t resist much and ended up pulled out of the arcade. The campus courts were close anyway.
Though it was edging into autumn, the afternoon sun still carried a muggy weight. They’d definitely work up a sweat. Wouldn’t he look sloppy? Jae-ha worried for a moment, but seeing how earnestly Hae-hyun fetched a ball from a nearby building, he gave in. Refusing him and leaving him sulky didn’t feel right.
They dropped their bags at the edge of the court. Inside, Hae-hyun tossed the ball at the netless hoop. As expected of someone in the PE department, his posture was clean despite his large frame, and his movements looked light.
The ball bounced off the rim and rolled toward Jae-ha. Thock. The familiar texture fit neatly into his palm.
“Rebounds are going to be tough for me.”
They were nearly ten centimeters apart in height. Under the hoop, Jae-ha wouldn’t stand much of a chance. Muttering like he was already beaten, he heard Hae-hyun tease,
“Not confident?”
Cocky little puppy. Smirking crookedly, Jae-ha bounced the ball once and took a shot. Thung—the ball slipped cleanly through the hoop.
Not a bad rhythm. He caught the rebound.
“How many points?”
“First to ten.”
“You start.”
Jae-ha tossed the ball over. Both crouched low, facing each other. Silence stretched. Exactly two beats later, the ball hit the floor, and they both sprang into motion.
The short game ended quickly. Catching the ball off the rim, Jae-ha muttered,
“Guess I just can’t lose.”
The score was 10–8. Close, but a win was a win. Swagger came with the territory. Hae-hyun, hands on his thighs and bent over, lifted his head with fire in his eyes.
“Again.”
“It’s over.”
“That’s why—again.”
What insane competitiveness. Jae-ha deliberately stalled, but Hae-hyun lunged, stole the ball, and hurled it at the hoop. Swish. With a clean shot, he turned and tossed the ball back.
“1–0?”
Catching the ball after one bounce, Jae-ha chuckled.
“That one doesn’t count.”
But after the next game, it was Hae-hyun’s turn to lift his chin in triumph.
“Didn’t you say you couldn’t lose?”
“…Again.”
How the hell did he move so fast? Like a giant squirrel. Jae-ha stretched out his hand. Hae-hyun bounced the ball tauntingly.
“You’re clingier than you look.”
“I went easy on you too.”
Jae-ha let out a sharp “ah.”
“Or maybe you’re worried you’ll lose next time?”
“…Play.”
Thung—the ball came back to Jae-ha. Cute. But he wasn’t going to hold back. Suppressing a grin, he bent low in position.
What was supposed to be a quick game dragged on endlessly. Whoever lost demanded another round. Then the other demanded another after that. The cycle finally broke only when the sky turned dusky.
“God… I’m dead.”
Jae-ha collapsed flat on the ground. The ball slipped from his grip, bouncing thunk, thunk nearby.
He was a wreck. The sharp outfit he’d picked out was soaked and clinging to his skin, and his carefully styled hair was completely ruined. A date, ending like this? He couldn’t help a laugh at the absurdity just as Hae-hyun plopped down beside him.
“You okay?”
He’d run just as much, yet somehow he looked fresh. Did he put on deodorant or something? Without thinking, Jae-ha reached out and brushed his forehead.
“What are you—?”
Startled, Hae-hyun covered his brow, but Jae-ha only checked his fingertips. They were damp with heat and sweat.
“You’re sweating.”
“So are you, Sunbae.”
“You startled me.” Grumbling, Hae-hyun tapped his cheek in return. His hand was hotter than Jae-ha’s flushed skin. As his fingers rubbed lightly, the sweat made his cheek slippery.
“You’re soaked.”
Jae-ha laughed. As his lips curved, Hae-hyun’s finger brushed the corner of his mouth.
“Do I look a mess?”
Reflected in his gaze was the relaxed slant of Jae-ha’s eyes. His lips parted slightly, slack from heat.
It was like someone had hit pause—Hae-hyun stared, unmoving. The sharp scent of body heat hung in the air, the spot of contact burning hotter. Not just from the weather.
Only when Jae-ha blinked did the light return to his brown eyes. Hae-hyun stumbled to speak.
“Ah, n-no. You look fine.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. Pretty.”
The unexpected word silenced Jae-ha for a moment before he broke into laughter. He was used to hearing handsome or cool, but pretty was new.
“Thanks for the compliment.”
It was just the sort of odd praise Ju Hae-hyun would give. And Jae-ha didn’t mind it.
On their way home, they spotted a pojangmacha stall. Bold letters advertised fish cake skewers and soondae. At the sight, hunger hit them both hard.
After all that time at the arcade and the basketball marathon, their lunches had long since burned away. Perfect timing for food.
“Hey, want to eat there?”
At his nod, they ducked inside and ordered tteokbokki and soondae, grabbing skewers of fish cake from the steaming broth. The folded fish cakes vanished in a couple of bites. Naturally, Jae-ha pulled out another and handed it over. With cheeks puffed full, Hae-hyun accepted without hesitation. Watching him eat so well felt oddly satisfying.
By the time their order arrived, their table was already stacked with skewers. As they sipped the broth from paper cups, their eyes shot to the heaping plate of red and black food placed before them—like predators spotting prey. Hands lunged forward with toothpicks.
“Now that hits the spot.”
Only after ordering more did their hunger finally settle. Basking in the warm fullness, Jae-ha set down his toothpick. The plastic crinkled over the empty plates.
“We ate like maniacs.”
“Yeah.” Hae-hyun let out a satisfied murmur. Looking every bit like a stuffed lion, his gaze drifted to Jae-ha’s face. He reached for the napkins above and pulled one down.
He dabbed at Jae-ha’s chin. When he drew back, the tissue carried a smear of red sauce. Jae-ha must’ve gotten tteokbokki on himself in his rush to eat.
“Ah, thanks.”
He belatedly touched his chin. The spot where the napkin had been felt oddly warm.
After picking up fruit smoothies to go, they finally left the stall. Their pace was slower now, more relaxed.
The walk back was quiet. Taking advantage of the lull, Jae-ha checked his phone.
First thing that popped up—an avalanche of SNS notifications. Way more than usual. Did something happen? Curious, he tapped through and found they were all reactions to the photo he’d posted earlier of Hae-hyun.
Right—he’d totally forgotten. Pulling it back up, he read the caption he’d written: “Cocky puppy.” The post had already racked up over fifty comments. Several people had even DM’d asking who it was. The response was explosive.
“You’re really popular.”
“Huh?”
When Jae-ha showed him the screen, Hae-hyun frowned.
