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Monday morning, just after early swim practice, Est was still damp with chlorine when his phone buzzed in his bag. He pulled it out, towel slung around his neck, and frowned at the screen.
William: tui said we need to talk
Est: what’s the problem?
William: he wouldn’t tell me. just said he needs to talk to us. wants us to show something.
Est: alright. courtyard after i shower.
By the time Est and Dunk sat on their usual bench in the courtyard, breakfast trays between them, the morning sun was cresting over the rooftop. Students wove in and out around them. Est was mid-bite into his sandwich when he spotted William approaching with Tui in tow.
William’s expression was guarded, but his eyes softened when they landed on Est. He gestured with a small wave. “Tui, this is Dunk. Dunk, Tui.”
“Hey, bro,” Dunk said easily, flashing a grin.
Tui only gave a curt nod, hands sliding into his pockets.
“So,” Est asked, chewing quickly. “What’s this about?”
Instead of answering, Tui pulled out his phone, thumb swiping, then set it flat on the table. “You guys read the school’s online news?”
Est’s gaze flicked to William, skeptical. “If it’s about me dating the school’s bad boy, I don’t really care.”
William tensed, but Tui shook his head. “Actually, no. It’s about you two… faking it.”
“What?!” William and Est blurted at the same time.
Dunk leaned forward, palm out. “Let me see that.”
The headline stared back in bold, sharp letters:
The Fake Couple? Attention-Seeking or Just Awkward Acting?
Dunk scrolled. His expression darkened as he read aloud. “Comments say you’re just doing this for attention. No chemistry. Too stiff. Always look like you’re about to fight.”
A muscle ticked in William’s jaw. “No wonder Joong still bothers you,” he muttered.
Est’s ears went hot. He wanted to grab the phone and fling it across the courtyard. His fingers dug into his sandwich wrapper instead, knuckles whitening. Before he could say anything, Tui leaned back, arms crossed. “Honestly? They’re wrong. You two have this thing going on—like magnets pulling toward each other. They just don’t see it.”
Both Est and William whipped their heads toward him, cheeks blazing. “What?!”
“You’re right,” Dunk added, his grin widening. “They mistake your tension for a fight.”
“Tension?” William echoed, laughing awkwardly.
Est groaned, dragging both hands through his damp hair. “Arrgh, what else do they want?! I post pictures, we hang out—”
“Friends do that too,” Tui cut in smoothly. “I told you: up your game.”
“We did! We held hands.” Est’s voice rose, indignant, like the effort hadn’t been appreciated.
Dunk snorted, nearly choking on his juice. “Yeah. Like once.”
William pressed a hand to his forehead, clearly caught between amusement and despair. “So what do you suggest?”
That was what Tui had been waiting for. His smirk spread slow and deliberate. “More PDA.”
The word hung in the air like a dare. Est blinked. William’s stomach twisted. Dunk just leaned back, thoroughly entertained.
And for a beat, all Est could think about was the feel of William’s hand in his, how his pulse had jumped even from that one time. Pretending was already too much. More PDA? He wasn’t sure if that meant saving their image… or losing himself completely.
__
And so, that whole week, they tried.
That Monday was awkward. Every glance lingered a second too long, every brush of fingers too deliberate—gestures that felt staged, as if they were performing for an invisible audience. The air between them was stiff, full of unsaid questions and careful boundaries.
But little by little, something shifted.
The excuse to be close made it easier to let their guard down.
By late afternoon, the pauses grew shorter, the touches less forced. The silence no longer pressed against them but settled instead, comfortable and easy.
What began as performance softened into instinct, until they weren’t thinking about it at all—just reaching, leaning, choosing each other without hesitation.
__
Tuesday.
William was waiting outside Est’s lecture hall, leaning casually against the wall, bag slung over one shoulder like he had all the time in the world. His gaze sharpened when Est appeared.
When their eyes met, William didn’t hesitate. His hand slid into Est’s—firm, steady, claiming without words.
“Hey,” William said, low and even.
“Hey,” Est echoed, quieter but sure.
They turned together to face the hallway—a sea of curious stares, whispers rising soft and sharp. But neither flinched. Est’s thumb brushed slowly over William’s knuckles. A quiet, personal gesture meant for one person alone.
William didn’t react outwardly, but the warmth of it anchored deep.
“How long have you been waiting?” Est asked.
“Not long. How’s class?”
Est groaned. “We need to write a report due next week.”
William chuckled. “At least it’s next week.”
“You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am.” William’s smile curved, faint but certain.
Est nudged him—harder than intended. William stumbled, nearly off balance, but his hand stayed locked with Est’s.
Est froze for a beat, then gave in. His lips twitched, the smile slipping through before he could stop it.
William caught it—and gave him a mock glare, eyes narrowed just enough to make Est snort.
The sound burst out of him, unexpected.
William blinked—then laughed too, low and easy. Just the two of them, laughing like no one else was there.
__
Wednesday at the library.
Est typed furiously, hunched over his laptop. William sat beside him, one arm draped casually along the back of Est’s chair, textbook in his other hand.
To anyone glancing over, it looked possessive, a silent claim. But to Est, the weight of William’s presence behind him was steadying, protective.
Est paused, frowning at the screen. “Can you read this and tell me if it sounds okay?” he asked, tilting the laptop slightly toward William.
William leaned in, close enough for Est to feel his breath. “This part’s good,” he said, tapping lightly on the trackpad. “But you could tighten this sentence a bit. Too many qualifiers.”
Est squinted at him. “You sound like my professor.”
William smirked. “Yeah, but hotter.”
Est shot him a scowl, dry and immediate. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
But he turned back to the keyboard anyway, fixing the line without argument.
William didn’t move away. Est didn’t ask him to.
And for the next few minutes, they stayed like that—quiet, close.
__
Thursday. Lunch.
By now, routine had set in.
Est reached without hesitation, stealing bites of meat from William’s plate. William didn’t complain—he just raised an eyebrow, then slid the plate closer without a word.
In return, he took a sip from Est’s drink, mouth brushing the straw where Est’s lips had been.
It was easy. Unspoken.
Around them, the table buzzed with noise. Nut was mid-rant. Hong looked vaguely amused. Tui and Lego had just arrived, balancing trays and catching up to the chaos.
“I swear, I’m never letting Hong plan our dates again,” Nut declared, slamming his chopsticks for emphasis.
Tui arched a brow as he sat. “Uh-oh. What’d he do now?”
Unfazed, Hong calmly spooned soup into his mouth. “It was fun.”
Nut turned to him, betrayed. “You took me to a haunted warehouse. That’s not a date.”
“It was immersive,” Hong said with a shrug.
“You screamed in the first two minutes,” Hong added.
“I screamed because you shoved me into the hallway,” Nut snapped.
“I nudged you,” Hong corrected. “So you’d take the lead.”
William snorted. “A noble sacrifice.”
Laughter cracked across the table.
In the middle of it, Est leaned into William slightly, chewing, barely hiding a grin. Without looking, William lifted his fork with a piece of tofu. Est, without breaking his own rhythm, leaned forward and took the tofu with a soft bite before pulling back. William lowered his fork, not having missed a beat in the conversation.
They didn’t need words. It was in the rhythm: Est passing him a napkin before he even asked; William splitting the last tofu chunk without thinking.
The noise swirled—teasing, mock arguments, bursts of laughter—but they moved through it like a shared current.
Comfortable. Natural.
__
Their texts multiplied. What began as quick logistics—where are you? what time to meet?—shifted into something softer, more constant.
home yet?
how’s practice?
this lecture’s so boring, save me.
try this series, it’s funny.
goodnight.
The conversations stretched across the days, tiny threads weaving them closer without either of them noticing.
A sticker. A meme. A quiet you okay? when silence lingered too long.
William started bringing extra fruit for Est without saying a word—thoughtful of Est’s diet.
Est, in turn, carried tissues in his pocket, ready to offer one whenever William needed it during meals.
They shared AirPods more often than not. William tilted his phone screen toward Est before Est even asked what he was watching.
No one said anything about the shift. It simply settled in—like breath, like habit.
But Dunk and Tui noticed. And they kept their smirks to themselves.
—
Friday evening.
Est sat in the library, bag at his feet, waiting for William so they could grab dinner.
But it wasn’t William who showed up.
Joong dropped into the seat across from him. Est’s shoulders stiffened. He exhaled sharply and lowered his gaze to his book, willing himself to stay calm.
“Waiting for your boyfriend?” Joong’s smirk sliced through the quiet.
Est didn’t answer, but his jaw tightened.
“I read the article. Is that why you’re glued together now? Just for show?”
His grip on the pen tightened, knuckles paling. His voice, when it came, was low and even. “No. It’s just us not hiding anymore.”
Joong leaned forward, smugness still dripping, ready to land another jab—
But quick, uneven footsteps broke the moment.
William appeared in the doorway, chest heaving like he’d run the whole way. His eyes swept the room, and when he found Joong across from Est, his whole body coiled. His gaze hardened, sharp and cold, a flash of possession sparking behind it. He didn’t like the way Joong was looking at Est—like Est was still an option, still within reach. He wasn’t.
William didn’t think.
His legs carried him forward before the thought could form.
He bent down and pressed a firm kiss to Est’s cheek. It was meant to be quick and decisive, but William misjudged the distance, and the edge of his mouth brushed the corner of Est’s lip.
Est froze, eyes wide, the pen slipping from his fingers. His heart did a dizzying, stupid flip, and his cheek was instantly hot.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” William said, his voice quiet, his gaze locking on Joong with a simmering fury. “What are you doing here?”
For the first time, Joong faltered. William looked sharper, steadier. Protective. More dangerous. The smirk slid from Joong’s face. He didn’t say a word. Just scraped his chair back and walked out.
Est blinked, finally releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His cheek still burned from where William’s lips had touched, warmth spreading deeper than it should. He looked up at William, who stood tense, fists balled at his sides like the fight hadn’t fully left him.
Est reached for him, wrapping his hand around William’s. “Hey. You okay?”
The touch brought William back. His eyes widened as realization dawned—the kiss, in public, the boldness of it. A flush crept up his neck that had nothing to do with anger. He instantly regretted the impulsiveness.
“Um… are you ready? S-should we go?” William stammered, avoiding Est’s eye.
The walk to the car was quiet, the silence thick with unspoken things. Finally, William muttered, “Sorry if I… surprised you. With the whole… thing.”
Est gave a soft, slightly breathless laugh. “It’s okay. You said before—if necessary, right? Just maybe give me a heads-up next time.” He bumped William’s shoulder lightly.
William forced himself to meet Est’s gaze, but his lips twitched into the faintest, shy smile Est had ever seen.
They still went to dinner, tucked into a little corner booth of a quiet restaurant.
Neither of them mentioned the kiss on the cheek again.
But both replayed it over and over in their heads.
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