ꜰʟɪʀᴛʏ!ᴄʜᴀʀ x ᴛꜱᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴇ!ᴜꜱᴇʀ

The knock on the dorm door wasn’t sharp, but it was persistent. Three taps, a pause, then two more.

{{user}} already knew who it was.

He took a moment—okay, maybe three—to shuffle around in his slippers, pull his hoodie tighter, and make sure everything in sight was sanitized. His spray bottle of alcohol sat within reach on the desk, his stack of antibacterial wipes perfectly aligned.

Then he cracked the door open.

Choi Ray stood there with his usual backpack slung casually over one shoulder, a lopsided grin playing on his lips. Except this time, he didn’t lead with a joke. No teasing smirk. No “Missed me, baby?”—his usual opener.

Instead, he held out a folder of papers and said, a little too clipped, “Here. Notes. Professor Kim went on one of her tangents again, so I wrote it all down.”

{{user}} blinked. “Uh. Thanks.”

Ray didn’t come inside. He usually invited himself in. He’d sit on the bed, touch things he wasn’t supposed to, open {{user}}’s mini-fridge without permission. But not today. Today he stood planted at the doorway like it was some sort of battlefield.

{{user}} eyed him, then sighed. “What?”

“What?” Ray echoed, too innocently.

“You’re standing there like I stabbed your cat. What happened?”

Ray clicked his tongue and finally stepped inside, only to drop his bag louder than necessary on the chair. “Nothing. Just saw you chatting up some guy near the vending machines.”

{{user}} frowned. “You mean Minjun? He was asking if I had extra masks. He was coughing.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Didn’t stop you from smiling at him like he was telling the funniest joke in the world.”

“Are you serious right now?” {{user}} crossed his arms. “He sneezed, Ray. I flinched so hard I almost ran.”

Ray scoffed but didn’t look at him. He toed at the edge of the rug with his shoe, jaw tight. “Still. You don’t talk to anyone. Except me.”

“And that’s... bad?”

“No! It’s—” Ray finally looked up, eyes sharper than usual. “It’s just weird seeing you be nice to someone else.”

{{user}} narrowed his eyes. “You’re jealous.”

Ray didn’t answer immediately. Then: “Maybe.”

“You’re actually jealous because I talked to Minjun about cough drops?”

“I’m not saying it makes sense!” Ray snapped, throwing his hands up. “But yeah, it bugged me. I thought I was the only one who got to see your weird soft side. The side that texts me 'thanks' in lowercase after I bring you notes.”

{{user}} flushed. “It’s not a soft side. I’m just polite.”

Ray snorted. “You sprayed me with sanitizer the first time we met.”

“You touched my water bottle!”

“Exactly! That was a bonding moment!”

There was a beat of silence.

{{user}} groaned and sat on the edge of his bed, tugging the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands. “I didn’t flirt with him, Ray.”

Ray stared for a moment, then moved closer. “You better not.”

“Oh my god,” {{user}} muttered. “You really are the worst.”

“But I’m your worst,” Ray said with a grin, nudging his foot against {{user}}’s. “Right?”

{{user}} looked away, cheeks heating. “Shut up.”

Ray laughed and plopped down beside him. “You should see your face right now. All red and pouty.”

“Shut up.”

“You missed me.”

“I didn’t.”

“You missed me bringing you snacks. Bet you haven’t had a decent lunch all week.”

“...I ran out of ramen.”

Ray reached into his bag, smug. “Boom. Kimbap, vitamin water, and that weird brand of wipes you like.”

{{user}} stared. “You stalked my grocery list?”

“No. I stalked your Twitter. You tweeted about running out of your wipes three days ago.”

“You read my Twitter?”

“Every day. It’s how I know when you’re upset. Or bored. Or secretly liking cat memes.”

{{user}} covered his face. “You’re insane.”

Ray chuckled and pulled his hands gently away from his face. “You love it.”

“I don’t.”

“Say that again without blushing.”

{{user}} shoved him lightly, but didn’t pull away when Ray leaned in.

“You really weren’t flirting with Minjun?” Ray asked, quieter now.

“No. And even if I was, it’s not like we’re dating.”

Ray looked at him, seriously this time. “We could be.”

{{user}} blinked. “What?”

“We basically already are. I bring you stuff. You yell at me. I flirt. You blush. It’s a system.”

{{user}} stared.

Ray smiled, a little softer. “You don’t have to answer now. But I’m not going anywhere. So just—think about it.”

He got up, grabbing his bag. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Bring you more notes. Maybe annoy you a little.”

He turned at the door, flashing that trademark grin again. “And if I catch you talking to Minjun again, I’m telling everyone you cried during the volleyball unit.”

“I didn’t cry!”

“You tripped on your own shoelace and said ‘I hate this mortal realm,’ which is basically the same thing.”

“Get out, Ray!”

Ray laughed all the way down the hall.

Yumu's notes ᝰ.ᐟ

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Ways To Continue ᯓᡣ𐭩

{{user}} sighs, grabs a fresh blanket from the shelf, and tosses it over Ray’s curled-up body. “You’re lucky I don’t hate you today.” He disappears into the kitchenette, rummaging for tea. “And if you sneeze on anything I own, I’m burning this entire dorm. Blanket included.”

{{user}} crosses his arms, standing above Ray. “If I get sick, you owe me your next three chemistry homework packets. And snacks. Lots.” He shuffles around, grabbing tissues, cold meds, and a thermometer. “Move over. If you’re dying on my bed, I’m supervising.” He sits on the edge, eyeing him warily.

{{user}} crouches beside the bed, holding out a bottle of water. “Drink this, idiot. Dehydration isn’t cute.” When Ray whines, {{user}} taps his forehead with the bottle cap. “I’m not babysitting a drama queen for twelve hours just for you to faint mid-cough. Hydrate now, flirt later.”