Chapter Text
Gun tapped his pen absently against his notebook, his thoughts drifting back to the beginning—back to the summer after high school, when everything between him and Tinn had changed.
It had been unexpected, to say the least. In high school, Tinn had always been the responsible, straight-laced student council president, while Gun was the loud, carefree music club leader. They hadn’t been close—barely even friends. Gun’s interactions with Tinn were limited to occasional visits to the student council room, usually to request things for his band.
Back then, Gun hadn’t thought much of Tinn. He saw him as someone reliable but unremarkable—just another overachiever buried in paperwork. He hadn’t noticed the way Tinn’s gaze lingered on him a little too long or the subtle way he always made time for Gun, no matter how busy he claimed to be.
But during the break before university, something had shifted. Their casual run-ins became intentional. Conversations stretched longer. Silences turned comfortable. And then one night, in the middle of a late-night conversation neither of them had wanted to end, Tinn had blurted out something that left Gun speechless:
“I like you. I think I’ve liked you for a while.”
Gun had laughed—partly from shock, partly because it sounded so much like something out of a drama. But when he saw the way Tinn’s ears turned red and his eyes darted nervously to the ground, Gun realized he wasn’t joking.
It had been an almost seamless transition. Once Tinn’s confession was out in the open, everything between them just fell into place. What started as casual conversations during the break effortlessly grew into something more—something neither of them had to overthink. Their dynamic shifted naturally, as if they’d been waiting for the right moment to step into this version of themselves.
Of course, things weren’t perfect. Balancing their relationship with the chaos of university life wasn’t easy. But Gun liked to think they were managing.
Sort of.
Gun sighed, resting his chin in his hand as the professor’s words continued to fade into the background. He knew his friends were just joking, but hearing them talk about finding someone new had struck a nerve. Sometimes, he wondered if keeping things hidden with Tinn was doing more harm than good.
His phone vibrated faintly in his pocket, pulling him out of his thoughts. A small, familiar thrill ran through him as he discreetly pulled it out, tilting the screen away from prying eyes.
From: Tinn <3
what did they say now? do i need to be worried?
Received: 9:25 a.m.
Gun’s lips twitched upward as he started typing a reply, the weight in his chest easing—if only for a moment.
To: Tinn <3
nono! dw i’ll let you know in person
Sent: 9:27 a.m.
when are you free?
Sent: 9:28 a.m.
Gun stared at his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen as he watched Tinn’s typing bubble pop up. The tiny dots moved for a second, then disappeared. Then reappeared. Then vanished again, for good this time.
The small smile on Gun’s face faded as quickly as the typing bubble had. His chest tightened, the silence from his phone heavier than it should have been. He locked the screen, but instead of putting the phone away, he stared at his reflection in the darkened glass.
The cool, confident Gun everyone else knew wasn’t there. Just a guy who, for all his bravado, was constantly wondering if he was asking too much.
He was ripped out of his thoughts by a tap on his shoulder. Startled, he nearly dropped his phone before turning to the source of the interruption.
“Whoa, sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you,” the person said, laughing lightly.
Gun blinked at him, taking in the crisp white lab coat over the same white button up and black pants. His confusion deepened as he glanced around the room, wondering if he’d somehow ended up in the wrong place.
“Don’t worry, you’re in the right class,” the guy said, clearly catching Gun’s reaction. “This is Art in Practice, right?”
Gun nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing. “Then why the lab coat?”
The guy grinned, scratching the back of his head. “Dentistry student. Just came from the clinic.” He extended a hand. “I’m Pi.”
Gun hesitated for a moment before shaking it. “Gun.”
“I know,” Pi said with a lopsided smile. “You’re in that band, right? Heard you’re performing at the freshman event.”
Gun blinked. “You’ve heard of me?”
“Of course,” Pi replied, his tone casual but friendly. “You’re kind of a big deal around here. Didn’t expect to see someone like you in an art elective, though.”
Gun shrugged, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “Needed something to fill my schedule.”
“Same,” Pi said, leaning against the desk beside Gun’s. “Figured it’d be a nice break from, you know, teeth.”
Gun laughed at that despite himself, the tension in his chest easing just a little. Pi’s easygoing demeanor was disarming, and while Gun wasn’t exactly looking for a new friend, he couldn’t deny the guy’s charm.
“So, what’s your thing?” Pi asked, nodding toward the blank sketchpad on Gun’s desk. “Drawing? Painting? Or are you here to surprise everyone with some hidden artistic talent?”
Gun smirked faintly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Pi laughed again, and for the first time that day, Gun felt like he could breathe.
By the end of the class, Gun had exchanged contact information with Pi, making a mental note to mention him to Tinn later. As they packed up, Pi leaned over to inspect Gun’s sketchpad, raising an eyebrow at the nearly spotless page.
“Wow,” Pi said with mock seriousness, pointing to the faint eraser marks that covered most of the paper. “You’re an expert in… erasing.”
Gun snorted, shoving his sketchpad into his bag. “Don’t act so surprised. I told you I’m not here to win awards. I just needed a class to fill my schedule.”
“Yeah, but art?” Pi teased. “You’ve got to have some creative spark—aren’t you the lead singer of a band or something?”
“Music and drawing are not the same,” Gun said, rolling his eyes. Then, after a moment’s pause, he added, “Anyway, I’m kind of surprised a dentistry student even has time for an elective. Isn’t your schedule packed?”
Pi shrugged, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Oh, it is. But being in any medical field is stressful enough. Adding something like art helps me unwind. Clears the mind, you know?”
Gun considered that for a moment, then nodded. “Makes sense. You’re still crazy for taking it, though.”
Pi laughed, and as they walked out together, Gun learned a few more things about his new acquaintance. Pi was one year older, had gone to high school outside of Bangkok, and apparently, had a knack for getting people to talk.
What intrigued Gun the most, though, was when Pi casually mentioned being part of a university project that helped students confess to each other.
“A confession project?” Gun repeated, raising an eyebrow. “What, like matchmaking?”
“Sort of,” Pi said with a grin.
“That’s… random.”
“Not really. You’d be surprised how many people need a little push when it comes to feelings.”
Gun hummed thoughtfully. “So, do you have a favorite confession story? Like one that stuck with you?”
Pi’s grin turned mischievous, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. I liked mine the most.”
Gun blinked, confused. “Yours? What do you mean?”
Pi chuckled, waving him off. “I’ll tell you later. You’ll understand when the time’s right.”
Gun frowned, his curiosity piqued, but Pi had already changed the subject, asking about Gun’s next class. Begrudgingly, Gun let it go—for now.
Gun glanced at his watch, groaning softly. “I don’t have another class until two. All my friends are busy, so I’ve got nothing to do.”
Pi tilted his head thoughtfully. “Well, if you’re bored, you could walk me to my faculty.”
Gun raised an eyebrow. “Your faculty is all the way across campus. That’s, like, a 15-minute walk.”
“Exactly,” Pi said with a grin. “Plenty of time for you to tell me more about this band of yours.”
Gun rolled his eyes but smiled. “Fine. Let’s go.”
As they walked, the conversation came easily. Pi’s questions bounced between harmless and personal—his band’s beginnings, his favorite high school memories, his parents—and Gun answered them all without hesitation, throwing the questions back at him.
“So, no offense, but you’re kind of crazy for taking an art elective when your actual faculty is so far away,” Gun said as they turned another corner.
Pi laughed. “Crazy? Maybe. But it’s worth it. You wouldn’t get it—you’re not stuck staring into people’s mouths all day.”
Gun laughed too, shaking his head. “Fair point.”
Before he knew it, they had reached the Dentistry faculty’s massive building. Gun glanced around, taking in the sterile, almost intimidating atmosphere. “This place feels like a hospital,” he muttered.
“Good. It means they’re doing it right,” Pi said, leading them inside.
Gun followed as Pi navigated the labyrinth of hallways, their conversation flowing easily. Suddenly, Pi waved at someone up ahead. Gun turned to see Tinn standing with another guy.
Gun froze for a moment, his heart stuttering. He hadn’t expected to see Tinn here, though he masked his reaction quickly.
As they approached, Pi grinned and gestured toward the other guy. “Gun, this is Mork—my boyfriend,” he said casually.
Gun blinked in surprise, glancing at Mork, who returned his look with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Oh,” Gun said, recovering quickly. “Nice to meet you.”
Mork’s eyes flickered to Pi, then back to Gun. “Nice to meet you too. Pi’s mentioned you.”
“Has he?” Gun asked, raising an eyebrow at Pi, who just grinned mischievously.
“Of course! Gun’s the super talented singer I told you about,” Pi said cheerfully.
Mork’s smile tightened slightly, his gaze assessing as he looked Gun up and down. “I see.”
Before the tension could build, Tinn cleared his throat. “Gun, right? Nice to meet you.” His tone was neutral, his expression carefully composed, though his eyes lingered on Gun for a second too long.
“Yeah, hi,” Gun said, forcing a polite smile, his heart pounding.
Pi, oblivious to the undercurrents between everyone, broke into the moment. “Anyway, I’d better head to class before I’m late. You too, Tinn.”
Tinn nodded, his expression unreadable. “Right.”
Mork slung an arm around Pi’s shoulders, glancing back at Gun as they turned to leave. “See you around, Gun,” he said, his tone light but his eyes holding a hint of something else.
Gun nodded mutely, watching as Pi, Tinn, and Mork walked off together. He stood frozen in the hallway, his thoughts racing.
The sight of Tinn walking away, his back turned, made something twist painfully in Gun’s chest. He let out a shaky breath, forcing himself to move.
As he made his way out of the building, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, half hoping it was Tinn, but it was just a message from one of his bandmates.
Sighing, he pocketed the phone and started the long walk back across campus, the weight in his chest heavier than ever.