The library was nearly empty by the time Suki dropped his bag onto the table with a dramatic sigh. "Ugh, math. Why does it hate me?"
Ryuzí set his books down calmly across from him. "Because you don't pay attention."
Suki pouted, sticking out his tongue. "That's cold, Ice Prince."
"Truth."
Suki leaned forward, chin in his hands, watching as Ryuzí opened his notebook with neat, precise movements. He's always so calm, Suki thought, but his ears still turn red when I tease him. The thought made his heart thump harder than he wanted to admit.
They worked quietly for a while, Suki groaning at every equation while Ryuzí corrected his mistakes with clipped but patient explanations.
"No, you flipped the fraction. Here." Ryuzí leaned closer, his pen moving quickly across Suki's notebook. Their shoulders brushed, and Suki froze, his breath catching.
He tilted his head, watching Ryuzí's profile in the soft library light. The sharp line of his jaw, the focused frown, the way his lashes cast shadows against his cheeks.
Without meaning to, Suki whispered, "...You're really handsome, you know that?"
Ryuzí's pen slipped. He stared at the page for a long second before slowly turning his head. "...What?"
Suki flushed. "I-I mean—objectively! Like, anyone can see it!"
Ryuzí's ears turned scarlet. "...Idiot."
Suki laughed nervously, scratching his cheek. "You always call me that. But you're the one blushing."
Ryuzí looked away sharply, his pulse racing. "Focus."
The silence stretched, heavy now, charged. Suki shifted in his chair, leaning a little closer. "You know... I meant what I said on the rooftop. About liking you."
Ryuzí's chest tightened. He gripped his pen tighter, trying to steady his voice. "...You're persistent."
"Because it's true."
Ryuzí turned, meeting his gaze. The intensity in Suki's eyes made his breath hitch. For a moment, the world fell away — the ticking clock, the faint rustle of pages in the background. It was just them.
Suki leaned forward, slowly, hesitantly.
Ryuzí's heart slammed in his chest. His body screamed to move — to push him away, to run — but he didn't. He couldn't. His eyes dropped to Suki's lips, and before he realized it, he was leaning forward too.
The space between them shrank.
Five inches. Four. Three.
Suki's breath brushed his skin. Ryuzí's hand twitched against the table.
Then—
"HEY! You two still here?!"
The library door slammed open. Kenji's voice boomed through the room.
Both boys jolted apart like they'd been burned. Suki nearly toppled his chair, face flaming. Ryuzí snapped his head away, ears scarlet.
Kenji blinked, then smirked. "...Oho? Did I interrupt something?"
"N-no!" Suki squeaked, flailing. "We were just—studying! Right, Ryuzí?!"
Ryuzí growled, shoving his books into his bag. "...You're dead."
Kenji laughed nervously, backing out. "I'll... leave you to it!"
The door clicked shut.
The silence afterward was deafening.
Suki rubbed the back of his neck, his heart still pounding. "...So, uh. That almost happened."
Ryuzí stiffened. "...It didn't."
"But it almost did." Suki smiled softly, leaning back in his chair. "Which means you didn't want to stop me."
Ryuzí's chest ached. He clenched his fists under the table, muttering, "...Idiot."
But his ears burned, his heart raced, and deep down, he knew Suki was right.
On the way home, they walked side by side in silence. The streetlamps glowed, their shadows stretching long on the pavement.
Suki glanced sideways, his grin small but genuine. "...One of these days, we won't be interrupted."
Ryuzí's breath caught. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, his voice hoarse. "...Don't count on it."
But the warmth spreading in his chest betrayed him.