“Hi,” Gunwoo says breathlessly, Junkyu looks up from his phone, backtracking a bit when he sees Gunwoo's sweaty face, the way his cleats dig into the soccer field.

“Gunwoo,” he says with a smile, nodding as he pockets his phone, hands sliding down his pants, drying the sweat forming from the warm spring day.

“It’s nice out today,” Gunwoo’s cheeks are turning a soft pink and Junkyu thinks it must be from the warm up laps.  

“Yeah,” he says, over Gunwoo’s shoulder he can see the rest of the team forming up for drills, he settles his gaze on Gunwoo, “I think they need you,” he tilts his head, “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

Gunwoo spares a look behind him, his hands grabbing for his water bottle, “right,” Gunwoo nods, “just wanted to say...hi.”

“Well then, hi” Junkyu says, smiling big at him, laughing when Gunwoo looks confused at him.

It’s not a second later before the coach is yelling for Gunwoo and Junkyu waves good bye and starts the walk back to his locker.

The sun slants softly into the hallways, angling over the rows of lockers. There isn't much noise, just the quiet rustling of the trees in the courtyard, the tapping of Junkyu's shoes. The spring air is nice, warm and inviting, Junkyu slides his blazer off, smiling when a breeze seeps through the windows.

He almost misses it, but his eyes do a double take, spotting the blarring mistake in the row of identical lockers.  He picks up his stride, looking around, trying to catch any trace of whoever had left the envelope behind.

Peeling the tape off takes a little while, it rips into little small strips before Junkyu finally decides to just yank the whole thing down.  It’s light in his palm,  the material made from off white matte paper.  There’s only one line of script, pushed all the the way to the edge of the envelope, neat letters that spell out to kang junkyu.

There’s a lot of things that come to mind, Junkyu carefully undoes the tape that has been put over the seal, stopping for a second to laugh.

“Kang Insoo you little ,” he shakes his head, sliding out the contents, still smiling, “you just wait until I get my hands on you.”

Somewhere between thinking of the best way to mess up Insoo’s new pair of sneakers or switching his food with something unpleasant, his mind jumbles, hurting to keep up with the words that he’s scanned over but has not let sink in.

dear junkyu,

ah, i like the way you smile.  but i can’t figure out how to say it to you.  when you look at me, do you feel the same way?  i want to tell you, honestly i do, but i can’t find the words to describe how i’m falling in love with you.  

anonymous

He reads them over, squints at the words, tries to see how they have remnants of Insoo’s writing.  But the handwriting is entirely too different.  He turns his eyes to the windows, the clouds over the soccer field are rolling in.  

“I don’t have time for this,” he sighs, going to undo the lock on his locker, stuffing the note into his pocket, grabbing his umbrella.

-

He doesn’t bother to ask Insoo about it, he has the note pressed between his math book’s index, leg bouncing impatiently as the time drags on.  Today they have PE outside and Junkyu’s just itching to to go out and feel the warm spring breeze.

He nearly runs to his locker when the bell finally rings, speed walking past people and then stops when his locker comes to view again.

The note had been stuffed into the the slits of his locker, hanging half out, folded where it’s hanging on for dear life.  He can feel the way his cheeks burn up, averting his eyes to avoid seeing the looks other people are throwing at him.  He grabs for it, puts it into the pocket of his blazer, scrambling to unlock his locker and get his gym clothes.

He’s in the bathroom stall, half out of his clothes when his curiosity gets the best of him and his hands fumble with his blazer, patting it down until they feel the thickness of the folded note.

dear junkyu,

did you get my last note?  i will admit, there wasn’t supposed to be a second one of these.  but i can’t build the nerve to talk to you, i need a little more time to come up with a plan.  i like the way your eyes are, i like you.

anonymous

Junkyu reads it carefully eyes straining to see any of Insoo's familiar and lines. But the words look different, they're foreign and Junkyu can't place them on anyone. The bathroom door opens and he closes his fist over the note, crinkling it into his palm. He stands frozen for a second, listening to the way the faucet gets flicked on. And then he realizes how dumb he's being, nobody knows about this, and he's certain whoever is outside doesn't even know him. He pulls up his uniform pants, all hopes of making it to PE on time gone. The water has stopped running by the time he finally stuffs everything back in his bag, pushing, stepping outside the stall, note still crushed in between his fingers.

“Junkyu,” he looks up, eyes locking with the mirrored gaze of Gunwoo, “uh...don’t you have class?”

Junkyu smooths a hand over his newly tucked shirt, his other hand stuffing the note into his pants.  Gunwoo’s eyes flicker to it, just for a second, before they snap back to Junkyu’s eyes.

“I wasn’t feeling up for running around,” Junkyu says, “maybe next time,” he smiles, walking towards the sinks, “what are you doing here?”

Gunwoo turns the sink on and off, his hand hovering for a second, “I um...I have a pass.”  He takes it out of his pocket, neatly folded, “I have class.”

“Right,” Junkyu nods, crosses his arms, “obviously you do.”

There’s nothing but silence after that, the soft footsteps outside echo for a moment and then nothing.

“So what was that,” Gunwoo says, turns around to completely face Junkyu, “a bad grade?” he grins, his cheeks gone slightly pink.

“Ah,” Junkyu shakes his head, “just Insoo...being Insoo.”

“Insoo?” Gunwoo makes a face, something Junkyu can’t figure out.

“Yeah, Insoo...my friend?”

Gunwoo shakes his head, stops and nods, “Right, Insoo.  I have class with him.”

“You should go back to class soon,” Junkyu points at the pass, “you’ll get in trouble.”

He watches Gunwoo leave, hair falling over his face in haste, pushing the bathroom door hard enough to make it shut too loudly.  

-

“What is that?” Insoo asks, looks on as Junkyu pulls his chair out, dropping his bookbag on the floor.

“What do you mean?” Junkyu narrows his eyes, his palm flat over the table, new note pressed in between.

“Is that a detention slip, is that why you’re grinding your teeth?” Insoo leans forward, putting his pen down.

“No…?” Junkyu unclenches his jaw, eyes going confused for a second.

“Then?” Insoo asks, smile starting to slip, “why do you look so mad.”

Junkyu stares, he stares until his eyes start to water and his anger simmers down and then he’s just confused.

“You don’t know?” he asks quietly, his palm curls up, the little folded note bending in between.

“Know what?” Insoo whispers back, unsure.

“Are you joking?” Junkyu tacks on.

“Joking about what?” Insoo’s voice rises in volume, something close to a stage whisper.

“This isn’t you?” Junkyu finally asks, shows Insoo the front of the envelope, the neat little line at the bottom reading to kang junkyu.

Insoo’s eyes look at the writing, then at Junkyu, uncertain and annoyed.

“Does that look like my handwriting?” he crosses his arms, “why would I write you a note if I see you like everyday.”

“So...you don’t know what this is...you didn’t write it?” Junkyu presses the note to his chest, afraid Insoo will reach out for it.

“I just said this isn’t my handwriting!” Insoo leans forward, “what is it?  It has you acting all weird.”

“Nothing,” Junkyu says quickly.  It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Insoo leans forward, arm outstretch.

“Let me see,” he whines, hands trying to get to the envelope, “come on let me see!”

“No,” Junkyu wheezes, manages to put the note under his armpit, “get off me!”

“Just let me see!” Insoo’s hands get more insistent.

It’s not long before Insoo’s all over him, hands everywhere, trying to tickle Junkyu’s armpit.  The chair is tilting back dangerously, and it cracks loudly against the floor with their weight.  In the moment of disorientation, Junkyu kicks Insoo off, scrambles to his feet and snatches his bookbag from the floor, hurrying out the library and towards the soccer field.

There’s clouds rolling in, pushed by the spring wind, slowly inching across the sun.  The bleachers are cold when he sits, the upper half of them in the shadow of the rolling clouds.  The soccer team is running around down on the field, Junkyu spots Jinseok’s inky black hair, huffing up the passing drills.  And then Gunwoo’s floppy hair, bright red headband in between his sandy hair.

He pulls the note from inside his jacket, smoothing out the wrinkles before breaking the tape over the seal.

dear junkyu,

it’s hard not seeing you all the time.  but whenever i do i can’t act right around you.  it’s the way you smile at me, the way you form your words, i can’t form a thought around you.  my heart hurts when i’m near you.  is this what love feels like?

anonymous

Junkyu feels his cheeks heat up, words like these have never been directed at him.  He can’t bring himself to read it over.  His eyes avert to the clouds, taking a deep breath to calm his blush.  

“Hey, Junkyu!” Jinseok calls, “down here!”

Jinseok is waving him down, arms flapping enthusiastically, Junkyu laughs at it, grabbing his bag and climbing down the bleachers.

“I thought you were gonna be with Insoo,” Jinseok says, “studying or whatever.”

Junkyu shakes his head, but before he can say anything, Gunwoo moves in next to Jinseok, crouching down to get his water bottle.

“Oh hey,” he says when he meets Junkyu’s eyes, “just getting water.”

“Gunwoo,” Jinseok says, “it looks like it’s going to rain soon,” Jinseok’s hand goes to pull Gunwoo up, “let’s go to my house instead after practice.”

Junkyu watches quietly, and then feels his heart speed up, watches the way Gunwoo’s mouth tilts up before it spreads into a wide smile, teeth showing.  Junkyu thinks this moment is supposed to mean something, when the sun breaks past the clouds and the sun beams bounce off Gunwoo’s skin, shine his eyes, make his mouth fuzzy around the edges.

“Sure,” Gunwoo nods, “anything for you Jinnie.”

And then there’s the odd feeling of nothing clunking into Junkyu’s stomach.

-

The weekend breaks into rain.  Junkyu sighs,  umbrella opening as he hurries down the streets.  His mom had given him a list of things to buy, send him off with a stern reminder not to get too many chocolate bars.  

The doors ping when they slide open, the bright lights of the supermarket too harsh against the  gray day.  The list is short, milk, some vegetables, bread.  He’s pulling out crinkly bills when his eyes catch on a familiar sandy tone, sticking out against the gloom.  He thanks the cashier, grabbing his bags, taking a careful step outside.

“Gunwoo?” he calls, ducking under the ledge Gunwoo’s huddled in.

“Junkyu,” Gunwoo mumbles, hands moving as if to hide something, but Junkyu’s eyes see, the cigarette that’s hanging from his fingers.

“Are you allowed to do that?” he asks slowly, “being on the soccer team?”

Gunwoo pulls a face, his free hand going to push back his hair, the other bringing the cigarette to his mouth.

“Not really.”

Junkyu watches the way the smoke curls around Gunwoo’s lips, the white breaking up the pink of his mouth.

“And here I was making sure you didn’t get in trouble,” Junkyu offers, smiling small.

Gunwoo doesn’t laugh, but Junkyu doesn’t mind, he looks for longer than must be acceptable, judging from the way pink starts to flood Gunwoo’s cheeks.

“There’s a lot of things we aren’t allowed to do, actually,” Gunwoo says, presses the burning cherry of the cigarette against the wall of the supermarket.

“Like what,” Junkyu asks, curious.

“No girls,” he says, “coach says no girls.”

Gunwoo gives him a look, unrelenting, too hard, like Junkyu’s supposed to understand something.

“Is that from Insoo?” Gunwoo asks, pointing at the grocery list Junkyu’s crushed against the handles of his bags.

Junkyu laughs, shaking his head, “this is my mom’s shopping list.”

Gunwoo blinks at him, the blush on his cheeks darkening, “ah...right.”

“Why are you here?” Junkyu asks around a smile.

Gunwoo presses the rest of the cigarette against the wall, “I got caught in the rain,” he says, “didn’t want to get wet, can’t get sick this season.”

Junkyu nods, “you can share with me,” he goes to open his umbrella, “I’ll walk you home.”

Gunwoo opens his mouth, eyes furrowing, “I don’t know…”

“Come on,” Junkyu says, “I’ll walk you home I don’t mind.”

-

The rain starts to pick up and Gunwoo sends him a thankful look when it splashes against the umbrella.  Junkyu laughs, but it stops suddenly when Gunwoo smiles, a shy line that punches him in his gut, leaves him without sound.

He spends the weekend doing homework, staring at the ceiling.  Unable to unsee Gunwoo’s mouth, the stretch of his lips, the smoke curling around them, the way his hair had waved with the rain.  He has to drown out the echo of Gunwoo’s soft voice with music, headphones hammed against his ears.

Insoo comes over on Sunday and he has to muster up all his courage to find a casual way to ask about Gunwoo.

“Jinseok’s friend says he has class with you, Gunwoo?” he’s not looking at Insoo, is focused on the math problems in his notebook.

“Gunwoo?” Insoo asks from the bed, “yeah, we have computer science together, why?”

Junkyu shrugs, pretends to look through his book, “I was just wondering why you never talk about him.”

“Do you want me to talk about him,” Insoo doesn’t miss a beat, Junkyu can hear the way the bed creaks with him sitting up.

“I don’t know, I was just wondering about him,” Junkyu says.

“Like what?” Insoo asks.

“Normal stuff.”

Like why Gunwoo is so soft, and why he smiles like he does.  He wants to know why his eyelashes are so pretty and why his hair looks so soft.  Just normal stuff.

-

Gunwoo is by his locker when he rounds the corner.  Junkyu waves at him, calling for him.

“Junkyu,” Gunwoo says in response, there’s something in his hands and Junkyu gives him a questioning look.

“What’s that?” he asks, stopping in front of him.

“I...uh...I was walking through here and this was on the floor, it had your name on it,” Gunwoo explains, slightly out of breath, “here.”

Junkyu takes it, eyes finding the neat to kang junkyu at the bottom, “did you see who left it here?”

Gunwoo doesn’t say anything for a while before he shakes his head, “no sorry, just saw this on the floor.”

“Thanks anyway,” Junkyu says shyly, holding on to the note, “was your weekend ok?”

“Yeah...yeah,” Gunwoo nods, “thanks for helping me out of the rain.”

Junkyu shakes his head, “no problem.”

And then he starts to get nervous, tracing the curve of Gunwoo’s big eyes, the plush line of his lower lip.  His palms start to sweat and he can feel the way his mouth is about to say something stupid.

“Junkyu,” Gunwoo says instead, he looks surprised, hands half way up to cover his mouth, “I...I have to go.”

Gunwoo rushes down the hall, his book bag flapping behind him.

Junkyu allows himself a look at him, the nape of his neck, the line of his back, before he remembers the note in his hands.

dear junkyu,

we have been nothing but fleeting, but let me tell you, your touch is something i want to need.  maybe you think more of me now, i know you’re all i think about.  you must think i’m crazy, but i just really like you.

anonymous

His palms itch, his mind trying to figure out who this is, who has touched him, who has been with him.  It must be someone he doesn’t see a lot, someone only in occassions.  Insoo hadn’t known much about Gunwoo, but he had pointed him at the direction of his best friend.  Junkyu looks at his watch, realizes he's late for his meeting with Seyong.

Seyong has a nice smile, it curls up charmingly, bright and warm.

“Ah, so you’re Junkyu,” he says, “why are you so cute?”

“Excuse me?” Junkyu reels back.

“Why are you so cute,” Seyong repeats, sitting on the window ledge, “Gunwoo didn’t say you were this cute.”

Junkyu gets stuck between thank you? and Gunwoo talks about me?  All that comes out are sputtering sounds, his face feels hot.

“Hey calm down,” Seyong leans forward, “it’s not like I asked you to marry me.  Insoo said you had Gunwoo questions.”

He still has the note in his hands and Seyong smiles when he sees it.

“Did Gunwoo give you that?”

Junkyu gives him a surprised look, “well yeah he did...he said he found it on the floor, how did you know?”

“Oh,” Seyong recoils, smile dropping a bit, “I didn’t actually…”

-

Junkyu keeps the notes in his bedside drawer, clipped together.  There’s only four of them, but he spends way too many hours reading them over and over again.  He finds the dips and curves of the characters charming, he likes the softness of the words.  But his heart always sinks when he realizes this isn’t Gunwoo.  How the soft words don’t belong to the soft boy and it dampens his mood just a little.  

Junkyu realizes that he’s started to grow some sort of liking towards Gunwoo, in the kind of way the note writer seems to be asking from him.  It’s something about his smile and his stilled words and the way his cheeks pink up with too much attention.  It’s the way his hair flops over his headband and how his legs look powerful on the field.  

The notes are still something he wants to figure out, he looks for clues of the person.  The notes smell faintly of ash, some have water spots.  

-

Gunwoo smiles at him from the hallway and Junkyu feels his stomach drop, his heart lodge in his throat.  He can’t spend too much time with Gunwoo, doesn’t have good enough excuses to keep going to his practices.  They see each other a lot...but they are just fleeting moments.

-

There’s a note rustling around his bag, he pulls it out with the rest of his lunch.  Insoo is nowhere to be seen, having sent him a text about a lab period.  He peels out the tape, takes a deep breath before he reads it.

dear junkyu,

does my smile do the same yours does to me?  it sweeps me off my feet, it knocks me down.  i can spend days and nights just hearing you laugh.  i can’t help it anymore, is this too fast?  meet me under the bleachers at 5 pm.

anonymous

Junkyu chokes on his spit, unsure if he’s reading the note correctly.  But no matter how many times he blinks the lines don’t change and his heart starts doing flips.

He almost decides not to go.  The sun is starting to set and the day is getting a little cooler and he’s not completely sure why he’s going.  Except he’s entirely too curious not to.  His heart isn’t too much into it now that time has passed.  If anything the idea of meeting someone but Gunwoo is a little disheartening.  He thinks of ways to refuse this person, tries to think of ways to ask Gunwoo to give him a chance.  

The school looms in the horizon, the field stretching out.  He’s glad the gates are unlock.  His phone says it’s a minute to five.  The walks along the bleachers, until he reaches the end of them, ducks under.  There’s a soccer bag on the dirt floor, a color that looks familiar, and then dirty sneakers, skinny shins, knobby knees.  His eyes go up, until he’s face to face with a red faced Gunwoo.

“Oh,” Junkyu can’t help it, “what are you doing here?”

Gunwoo swallows, eyes going to the ground, “are you waiting for someone?”

Junkyu nods, thinks maybe Gunwoo was sent to tell him the other had dipped out, “yeah, did they...are they coming?”

Gunwoo takes a moment before he looks up, eyes wide, sweat trailing down the side of his forehead, hair sticking down.

Junkyu decides to venture out, “actually now that you’re here I wanted to ask something.”

Gunwoo stiffens, but he nods eventually and Junkyu takes a deep breath.  it gets stuck in his throat, he makes a little sound and Gunwoo’s nervous mouth twists into a smile.  Junkyu loses his nerve, can’t take his eyes away from the curve of it.

“I like you,” Gunwoo says suddenly, “I like your smile and your eyes and I just have a hard time thinking up words for you.”

The wind picks up and Junkyu feels his mouth drop slightly.

“And oh god my heart is aching now, it’s on fire and it’s all because of you and your laugh and your voice.  I really like you and I feel like I’m going crazy just looking at you, not being able to touch you.  Just being near you makes my brain melt.  I have no idea if what I’m saying even makes sense to be honest,” Gunwoo rushes out, his fists curling close, “I just need you to know...I just have to get this off my chest.”

“Gunwoo,” Junkyu starts.

“It’s ok,” Gunwoo says, “you can say what you were gonna say before, I won’t take it badly.”

Junkyu laughs, he takes a step forward, lets himself think.  He adds it all up as best as he can.  The day Gunwoo had given him the note.  Seyong’s question.  The constant contact with Gunwoo.  He feels stupid, he feels relieved.

“I was going to ask you out,” Junkyu says, “...before the person who had written the notes confessed.  It was you,” he says stupidly.

“Ask me out?” Gunwoo echoes, “as in me and you?”

“As in me and you,” Junkyu nods.

-

Gunwoo dresses nicely, he looks so skinny out of his uniform.  Junkyu is fascinated with the way the material sticks to Gunwoo, the way his hair frames his face nicely, the neckline of his shirt that shows the pale skin that rarely gets time in the sun.

The clouds are rolling in but Gunwoo asks if he wants ice cream and Junkyu nods, listens to Gunwoo order for both of them.

They’re walking around, the streets empty with school and work the next day, Gunwoo’s hand finds space in Junkyu’s, a warm press against the chilly night.

“Thank you,” Gunwoo says, “for not saying no.”

Junkyu’s never been good with words around Gunwoo either, but he doesn’t say much about it, instead reaches up for a kiss, mouth slotting against Gunwoo’s cold lips.  The day is getting darker, colder, so Junkyu presses closer, trying to steal some warmth.  He can feel the heat from Gunwoo’s blush, the slight tremble in his body.  His hands slide up his arms, fingers curling around his neck, feeling the softness of the skin, the flare leading to his shoulder.

He pulls back, Gunwoo’s eyes blink open, heavy and his breath hitches.

“You make my heart hurt,” Gunwoo whispers.

Junkyu laughs.