The courtyard still held the morning chill, damp fabric brushing against bare arms as students drifted between classes. Near the coffee cart, steam rose in lazy curls, mixing with the sharp scent of wet concrete and something sweet from the cart's syrups. Phuwin sat cross-legged on the low wall, head tipped back, laughing at something Santa had said, his brown bangs slipping to one side and catching the weak sun that filtered through the clouds.
Pond stood thirty feet away. His coffee had gone warm in his hand, forgotten entirely.
The curve of Phuwin's throat. The way his oversized hoodie—gray today, soft-looking—slid off one shoulder when he moved. The sound of his laugh, bright and unguarded, cutting through the courtyard noise like it was made for Pond's ears alone. His fingers tightened on the cup. The lid dented under the pressure.
"You're going to burn a hole in him."
Taehyung stepped into his line of sight, arms crossed, one eyebrow arched. He was wearing that shit-eating grin he got whenever he caught Pond being obvious. Which was often.
Pond blinked. Looked down at the dented lid. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Right. You were just staring at the wall. The very pretty wall. With brown hair and a laugh that makes you forget your own name." Taehyung's grin widened. "That wall."
"Fuck off."
"You fuck off. You've been standing here for ten minutes. Your coffee's cold. You haven't taken a single sip." Taehyung leaned in, lowering his voice like he was sharing a state secret. "Just go talk to him. It's not that hard. You talk to everyone else."
Pond's gaze slid back to Phuwin despite himself. To the way his bangs fell over his eyes when he looked down at his phone. To the slender line of his wrist as he gestured while talking. "It's different."
"Different how?"
He didn't have an answer. Or he had too many, none of which he'd say out loud.
Across the courtyard, Phuwin's head turned. His eyes—those dark, expressive eyes that saw too much—found Pond's across the distance. Held for a beat. Two. Then he rolled them, slow and deliberate, and turned back to Santa like Pond wasn't worth another second of his attention.
Pond's chest did something stupid. Tightened, then dropped.
"That's a yes, right?" Taehyung said. "Rolling his eyes at you. That's basically flirting."
"Shut up."
"I'm serious. He looked at you. That's more than you've gotten all week."
Pond shoved him, but there was no force behind it. His eyes stayed on Phuwin. On the way Santa leaned in to say something, making Phuwin laugh again, hand coming up to cover his mouth. On the girl beside him—Siyh—who elbowed him and said something that made Phuwin's cheeks go pink.
He wanted to know what she'd said. He wanted to be the one making Phuwin blush.
"Go," Taehyung said, quieter now. "Before you regret it."
Pond's feet moved before his brain caught up.
The courtyard seemed to narrow as he walked. Students parted around him—some recognized him, whispered, pointed—but he barely registered them. His focus had locked onto one person, sitting on that low wall, phone in hand, bangs falling forward as he typed something.
He stopped a few feet away. Close enough to see the individual strands of brown hair, the curve of his lashes. Close enough to smell something faint and clean, like soap and something sweeter underneath.
Phuwin looked up. His thumb paused mid-scroll. "What."
Not a question. A demand.
Pond felt his cool-guy act scramble to assemble itself. He leaned against the wall, trying for casual, one hand in his pocket. The pose that made girls swoon. "Nothing. Just passing by."
"You were passing by from over there." Phuwin gestured vaguely toward where Pond had been standing. "That's a long pass."
Santa snickered. Siyh didn't bother hiding her grin.
Pond's confidence flickered. "Can't a guy say hi?"
"You already said hi. Yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that." Phuwin's eyes were sharp, but there was a hint of color rising on his cheekbones. "Don't you have fans to entertain?"
"They'll survive."
"Must be nice. Being that important."
The words were sharp, but his voice wasn't. There was something underneath—curiosity, maybe. Or annoyance that didn't quite land.
Pond smiled. He couldn't help it. "You're looking at me."
"You're standing right in front of me. Where else am I supposed to look?"
"I don't know. The wall. Your phone. Santa's face."
Phuwin's jaw tightened. The color on his cheeks deepened. "You're annoying."
"You keep telling me that."
"Because it keeps being true."
But he didn't look away. His eyes held Pond's, a challenge flickering in their depths, and for a moment the noise of the courtyard faded. The coffee cart. The passing students. Taehyung's mocking grin somewhere in the periphery. None of it mattered. There was only Phuwin, right here, refusing to break first.
Pond's hand moved before he thought about it. Reached out. His fingers brushed the edge of Phuwin's sleeve—soft fabric, gray—and he felt the other boy go still.
"Your hoodie," Pond said, voice lower than he'd intended. "It suits you."
Phuwin's breath caught. Audible. Barely. But Pond heard it.
Then Phuwin's hand came up and batted his away, light and quick. "Don't touch me." No heat in it. His eyes had gone wide, though. The defensive armor was cracking.
"Sorry." Pond held up both hands, palms out. Smile still there, softer now. "Couldn't help it."
"You could. You choose not to."
"Yeah. I do."
Silence stretched between them. The kind that asked a question neither of them was ready to answer.
Santa cleared his throat. "Should we give you two a moment? Or—"
"No," Phuwin said quickly, standing up. His hoodie fell back into place, covering the curve of his waist. "We have class." He grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and started walking. Then stopped. Turned back, just slightly. "Your coffee's cold."
Pond looked down at the dented cup in his hand. He'd forgotten he was holding it.
"Get a new one," Phuwin said. "And stop staring at me. It's weird."
He walked away, Santa and Siyh falling into step beside him. Siyh said something that made Phuwin shove her, his ears red even from this distance.
Pond watched him go. Watched the way his bangs caught the light one last time before he disappeared around the corner.
"Smooth," Taehyung said, appearing at his shoulder. "Real smooth. 'Your hoodie suits you.' What are you, a poet?"
"Shut up."
"I'm just saying. You had him. He was turning pink. And then you pulled the hoodie line."
Pond crushed the empty cup and tossed it into a nearby bin. It bounced off the rim and fell to the ground. He left it there.
He could still smell Phuwin's soap on his fingers. Still feel the soft fabric brushing his skin.
"Next time," he said, more to himself than Taehyung.
"Next time, you buy him coffee. Or boba. I've seen him with boba. He likes the strawberry one."
Pond finally looked at him. "How do you know that?"
Taehyung shrugged. "I pay attention. Unlike some people who just stand there and stare."
Pond's lips curved. A real smile this time, small and private. "Strawberry boba."
"Yeah." Taehyung clapped him on the shoulder. "Now come on. Class starts in ten. And you've got that look again."
"What look?"
"The one that says you're already planning tomorrow."
Pond didn't deny it. He followed Taehyung across the courtyard, but his mind was still back on that low wall, still caught in the moment Phuwin's breath had hitched. Still replaying the way Phuwin had looked at him—sharp and soft at the same time, like he was trying to figure out what Pond wanted, and why he couldn't look away either.
The courtyard filled with students again. The coffee cart steamed. Somewhere, a girl called his name, asking for a photo.
He didn't hear her.