Hwanwoong feels the way his throat goes dry.  The other students have paired up,voices hushed talking about their assignments, dividing up work.

“Hey,” there’s a boy shuffling closer to his desk, “do you have a partner?” he asks.

Hwanwoong swallows nervously, looking up, wincing when the back of his head hits the chair.

“Um...uh no,” Hwanwoong, closes his books, wincing when he closes it over his hand, pulling it back to himself.

“Can I be your partner?” the boy asks, voice hopeful, “I mean there’s no one else…”

Hwanwoong nods, pushing his books closer to himself, shuffling his chair as if to make more room for the other.

The other boy is taller than him, a lot taller, his hair parts in at the side, a nice shade of dark brown.  

“Thanks," he says once he’s seated, smiling bright at him.  His uniform stretches over his wide shoulders, Hwanwoong averts his eyes.

“My name is Lee Gunhee,” he adds, opening his books, picking up his pencil, “what’s yours?”

Hwanwoong looks at him for a second, looking away when their eyes meet, clearing his throat.

“I’m Yeo Hwanwoong,” he mumbles, picking up his own pencil.

Gunhee flips a page from his book, looking at the diagram on the page, “so what do you know about ionic bonds?”

-

Hwanwoong waits in the auditorium.  His last class is his drama elective.  He watches as the rest of the class trails out, some of them waving good bye to him.  

He waits for a bit.  The lights on stage are still on and there’s not much noise but the hordes of students pushing to go home.  

He slumps on his seat, suddenly unable to think of his lab partner, Lee Gunhee.

Hwanwoong knows a lot about Lee Gunhee.  He’s fairly popular, hanging out with the all the pretty people, has a few friends from university, often seen laughing, smiling.  He’s an average student, excelling in certain subjects, part of the choir.  

He’d asked Hwanwoong to borrow his chemistry notes, Hwanwoong hadn’t really thought anything of it.

“I’m here!”

The doors push open with a loud bang, Gunhee walking down the aisle, eyes squinting in the dim room, finally settling on Hwanwoong.

“Hi,” he says, a bit breathless, hair damped at his temples, “sorry I made you wait...last class was across the building.”

Hwanwoong doesn’t say anything to that, instead watches as Gunhee sits next to him, looking at the empty stage and then turning to look at Hwanwoong.

They stare at each other long enough that he feels he way a blush crawls up his neck, staining his cheeks a dusty pink.

Gunhee’s smile slips into a grin, eyes squinting with it.

“What,” Hwanwoong’s voice cracks, he’s nervous.

Gunhee laughs, leaning a little closer, “notes?”

“Oh,” Hwanwoong startles into action, frantic as he reaches for his bookbag, ping it, looking blindly for his chemistry notebook, “right sorry…I-”

“You’re really cute,” Gunhee kisses him, on his cheek, messily close to the corner of his mouth.  

Hwanwoong pulls back, jerking away, hand rising to rub at his cheek.  Gunhee flinches at the movement, head dropping in embarrassment, shame.

Hwanwoong stops looking for his notes, turns to look at the other boy, unsure if what happened really did, his skin pin pricking with nerves.

“Um,” he chokes, he’s never been good at receiving compliments, receiving affection, but even this is at a whole other level.

The sounds from outside the auditorium have watered down.  Hwanwoong hears lone footsteps, sneakers squeaking, the rush of sound from the main entrance being opened.

He pulls out his notebook, unsure if he should go on like nothing has been said, like nothing has happened.  Gunhee picks his head up with the rustling sounds, eyes wide, suspiciously shiny.

Hwanwoong looks at him, at the way tears are gathering at the corners of his eyes.  The air is heavy, tense, Hwanwoong feels like he’s about to suffocate with it.

They’re still close, close enough that Hwanwoong can imagine himself kissing him.  He breaks eye contact.

He wonders if others know, wonders if Gunhee’s really means it the way it seems to be.  

Hwanwoong knows about Lee Gunhee, knows a lot about him.  Knows that last year there was a murmur of a rumor, a quiet small ripple.  

Lee Gunhee likes boys.

It terrifies him, it bubbles under his skin, a striking fear that it’ll tear his skin apart.

“Are you gay?” he asks, voice quiet, eyes looking at his lap.

Gunhee makes a small sound, caught in his throat, pathetic sounding.

“No,” he says, weakly, voice thin, “I mean...I don’t know.”

Hwanwoong nods at this, like he understands, like this isn’t making his chest light up in a burning fire, shivers running up his spine.

“You just think I’m cute?” he asks, as if to make sure he heard it.

Gunhee doesn’t look at him, he nods.

“And you kissed me,” Hwanwoong goes on.

Gunhee doesn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes.

He gets up abruptly, the seat springs close with a loud bang, Gunhee flinches at that too.

“I...I have to go,” he clears his throat, reaches for his bag.  

He turns around before Hwanwoong can look at this face, putting his bookbag on hastily, straps twisted around his arms.

“I...uh...yeah,” he runs out.

Hwanwoong hears the auditorium doors slam open and close.  Hears the main doors open, the sounds from outside, foot traffic.  The whooshing sound of the noise leaving as the door closes again.

He touches his cheek again, cheeks getting hot again but he’s not sure why.

He zips his bookbag close, swings it over his shoulders.

-

His headphones are all tangled up.  

The sun is setting, the autumn air still warm.  Beams of orange sunlight slant over the sidewalk, make Hwanwoong squint when he looks up.

He finally manages to untangle them, plugs them into his phone.  

He puts his songs on shuffle, it doesn’t make a difference.  His thoughts are loud, pounding against his head, trying to escape.

Lee Gunhee likes boys.

Lee Gunhee thinks he’s cute.

He’s cheek feels supercharged.  

Hwanwoong walks down the streets and feels like everyone knows, feels like everyone can see just where Gunhee kissed him.

He shrinks into himself then, suddenly feeling a wave of nerves, shame, ears gone red reliving the situation.

No one is home.

The quiet makes him restless, uncomfortable. 

Hwanwoong changes, heats up leftovers.  They’re all movements, mechanical, sluggish, failing to break past Hwanwoong’s cloudy thoughts.

He finally lays in bed, face buried in his pillow, he pulls at his hair, enough for it to hurt, enough to be almost violent.

And then the urge is gone and all he think about is what does Lee Gunhee see in him?