"Hey, it’s that crazy dinosaur again!"
"Aahahaha!"
"What’s that in its hand? A... banana?"
At the starting line of the luck-of-the-draw race, Ha Giyeon stood holding a banana in one hand, ready to sprint. He didn’t know why the vice class president had given him a banana, but figured there must be so reason for it, so he decided to just take it and run.
He had to jump hurdles, pop a balloon, do so jump rope, crawl through a net, grab a slip of paper from a table, and reach the goal line with it. Even if you weren’t a good runner, half of the event was based on luck, so Ha Giyeon had no intention of giving up easily.
“Ready...”
Bang! With the sound of the starting gun, the racers shot forward. Wearing the rustling dinosaur costu, Ha Giyeon ran with all his might. Struggling through the obstacles, he stayed in third place. When he reached the table, he grabbed one of the notes and unfolded it.
“...Oh!”
It was easier than he expected!
There was only one place he needed to go.
***
Son Suhyeon had finished his last event with the basketball ga, so he was now sitting comfortably, taking a break. Even before the luck-of-the-draw race began, the chaotic dinosaurs running around had been impossible to miss.
Didn’t Giyeon say volleyball was his last event too?
As the signal for the race fired, Suhyeon watched the dinosaur take off. It looked like soone from Giyeon’s class, and despite the cumberso suit, the kid was running hard—currently holding third place. Suhyeon was watching the front of the race when, all of a sudden, the dinosaur costu turned and began running toward his own class. His eyes widened.
What on earth could have been written on that note?
“They’re coming this way! Be ready! We have to help them no matter what!”
“Is the banana for throwing or sothing?”
Figuring any of his classmates could help, Suhyeon was about to look away—until he saw the red armband on the dinosaur’s arm.
“Ha Giyeon?!”
He blinked in disbelief and stood up from his seat. Giyeon had definitely said he was only doing volleyball. So why was he here...?
“...!”
But before he could ask, the dinosaur ran up and grabbed his hand. Then, with the other hand, handed the banana to Suhyeon’s class president.
“Huh? A banana?”
Without explanation, Giyeon took Suhyeon’s hand and ran toward the finish line. Watching him run so hard made Suhyeon grin, and then—he picked Giyeon up and sprinted at full speed. Surprised for a mont, Giyeon soon wrapped his arms around Suhyeon’s neck, clinging to him as they crossed the finish line together.
“I’ll check the slip,” said the judge.
After Suhyeon set him down, Giyeon handed over the slip. The judge unfolded it, glanced at Suhyeon, and gave a big thumbs up.
“First-year Class 8, second place!”
The class burst into cheers, and Giyeon smiled in relief. Suhyeon leaned in close to his ear and asked gently,
“What did it say?”
Giyeon hesitated, as if embarrassed to answer directly, and handed him the note. The mont Suhyeon unfolded it, his expression froze. Then the corners of his lips twitched up slightly.
[The Prettiest Person!]
Giyeon could feel him looking but kept his head turned, pretending not to notice. The prettiest person? If it had said "most handso," he might’ve thought of Ha Dohoon, Choi Mujin, Kwon Jongseok, and so on. But this wasn’t about being handso—it said “pretty.” And sure, Suhyeon was handso, but... to Giyeon, he was more on the pretty side.
His long eyelashes fluttered when he blinked, his nose was smooth and elegant, his lips were full and red, and every ti he brushed his sweat-dampened curls back, his pale gray-blue eyes sparkled so beautifully it was almost unreal. So really, for Ha Giyeon, there had only been one choice.
Well, even if it had said “handso,” he would’ve still picked Son Suhyeon.
Suhyeon quietly tucked the slip into his pocket and changed the subject.
“Isn’t that suit hot?”
“I was actually planning to take it off. I don’t have any more events anyway.”
“I’ll help.”
The zipper was on the back, after all—it would be hard to take it off alone. The two of them walked across the field and into the school building. Since Giyeon was wearing clothes underneath, there was no need to go all the way to the bathroom, so he stopped in the hallway to take off the suit. Suhyeon unzipped the back for him.
Ziiip—with the sound of the zipper, Giyeon slipped out, soaked in sweat and flushed from the heat.
“Phew...”
He pushed his damp hair back and inhaled deeply, enjoying the cool air. And in that mont, Suhyeon found himself unable to look away. Flushed cheeks, sweat-damp hair, droplets rolling down his cheek and slipping under his collar—all of it srized him.
He stood there watching, caught in the mont, until their eyes t.
“...Hyung?”
“...”
Suhyeon reached out and gently stroked the cheek where sweat had trailed. His hand slid slowly down the curve of Giyeon’s neck. His long fingers traced the line to his collarbone, and when they brushed there, Giyeon shivered at the ticklish sensation.
“Suhyeon-ie hyung!”
“...!”
The urgent voice snapped him out of it. Giyeon was looking at him—startled, embarrassed, flustered. Suhyeon jerked his hand away and stepped back in a hurry.
“Sorry—I, uh, need to go to the bathroom.”
He turned and fled, not looking back once.
He slamd into the empty bathroom, turned on the faucet, and dunked his face into the sink. Cold water splashed over him, snapping him awake. As he lifted his dripping face and looked into the mirror, his cheeks were still burning red.
What the hell did I just do?
His hand had reached out on impulse, touched Giyeon’s soft cheek, and slid down the line of his neck. It had almost followed the sweat straight into his shirt.
“No, no... that’s not it...”
His heart was pounding, breath uneven, chest clenching, face on fire—because he’d run too much. He’d overexerted himself. That was all. He was just exhausted from the festival.
So it couldn’t be that. It wasn’t... anything like the kind of feeling you’d see in so romance drama.
Suhyeon repeated it to himself for a long ti, unable to leave the bathroom.
***
Ha Giyeon’s class ended up taking third place in their grade, while Son Suhyeon’s class won first, marking the end of a fierce sports festival. Afterward, when classmates suggested going out for pizza, Giyeon gave a vague excuse and declined. Instead, he went to Suhyeon’s house and grilled pork belly. Thankfully, he had enough money to pay this ti. The two of them ate well, feeding each other at wraps, eating until they were full.
As the vibrant atmosphere of the festival faded, the school entered a gloomy season. Specifically, the third-years.
They’d poured all their energy into the festival, and now that it was over, their eyes were filled with hollow exhaustion and sharp intensity as they prepared for finals. The third-year floor was so quiet it was practically off-limits.
Suhyeon had begun college counseling too. He looked especially tired lately, likely stressed about choosing a school, his mind fully consud by university entrance exams. Giyeon started handing him little snacks—chocolate, candy—whenever he had the chance. Suhyeon would stare down at them for a mont before quietly thanking him and walking off.
He must be really tired.
Normally, he would’ve ruffled Giyeon’s hair before leaving. But lately, he just waved slightly and walked away. He didn’t seem to be avoiding him, exactly, but sothing about his behavior felt strangely awkward. Giyeon figured it was just the stress, and focused on preparing for his own finals.
Even amid the chaos, Ha Dohoon still tried to talk to him. Giyeon would leave early in the morning, study in cafés or at the cram school, and return ho late—only to find Dohoon waiting in the living room. The mont his attention began again, Giyeon tried to ignore him.
But Dohoon would chase after him and grab him. When Giyeon visibly flinched, Dohoon didn’t touch him—but still blocked his path persistently.
“Let’s talk. How long are you going to keep this up? Are you really never going to speak to again?”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
What was there to talk about? In the past, he would’ve at least listened. But now, even that felt unbearable. Especially after hearing how Dohoon had talked about him to his friends—calling him a pushover. Nothing he said could be trusted anymore.
If Giyeon tried to escape to his room, Dohoon would chase him all the way there and try to force a conversation. Only the voices of their mother or father calling would pull him away.
He’ll lose interest soon, Giyeon thought, holding his breath and hoping.
***
When finals ended and the scores ca out, Giyeon was shocked. And so was the entire class.
“Giyeon got first place in our class?”
“Whoa—congrats, Giyeon!”
“Pfft. Nam Taekyung lost his spot, huh?”
Ha Giyeon had taken first in his class. Third in the whole school. Nam Taekyung, who had always held first, had dropped significantly. He claid it was due to a marking error, but his classmates only offered half-hearted sympathy. After how he’d behaved during the sports festival, it seed their resentnt had piled up. Even when he looked like he was about to cry, the response was cold.
anwhile, Giyeon’s reputation was climbing. Between his performance in the festival and his natural kindness, people were genuinely warming to him. That unconscious sweetness drew people in—they wanted to talk to him, be near him.
In contrast, Nam Taekyung looked like he’d been cast into the deepest pit, utterly devastated as he watched it all.
***
The third-year classrooms were gripped by the wind and stress of early college admission battles. For those relying on early admissions, it was now or never. In the middle of that tense final exam, Son Suhyeon had achieved a result he was satisfied with.
He hadn’t decided which college to attend yet, but his grades were strong enough for a top school. After seeing his results, he finally relaxed—and fell asleep that night, tension finally drained.
That night, Son Suhyeon had his first wet dream.
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