Only You, Jaeyun | JAKEHOON

Chapter 1

Nothing changed, until he walked in.

The bell rang late that morning. A tired, screeching clang that bounced down the tiled hallways and stirred teenagers into a lazy shuffle toward their classrooms.

Room 2-3 was already alive with noise—half arguments over pencil cases, half giggles from the girls at the back, and Jay Park dramatically laying face-down on his desk like the world ended.
“First day of March and they already gave us homework,” he groaned, voice muffled by his arm.

Across from him, Lee Heeseung didn’t look up from where he was doodling a duck in the margin of his math notebook.
“That’s literally what school is for.”

Jay’s head shot up, eyes narrowed. “We’re seventeen. We should be making mistakes, not math.”

Heeseung snorted. “You’ve been eighteen for four months.”

Jay turned dramatically toward the last of their trio. “Hoon. Back me up.”

Park Sunghoon didn’t even lift his head. He was hunched over his desk, twirling a mechanical pencil between his fingers with the kind of quiet precision you’d expect from someone who’d spent most of his life chasing perfect lines on ice. His hair, slightly too long, curled a little at the nape. His black uniform jacket was unbuttoned. Dimples faintly showed as he gave the tiniest shrug.

“You’re both loud,” he said.

Heeseung grinned. “You love us.”

Sunghoon didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

This was their routine. Three boys in their final year of high school—inseparable since they were five, chaos and calm and something like love binding them together, even if none of them ever said it.

And then—

The door opened again.

And he walked in.

A new student. Dark hair, parted a little off center. Pale lips. Skin dusted gold from the sun that hadn’t quite left his face yet. He stood beside the teacher, fingers fiddling with the edge of his uniform blazer, which still looked too stiff to be lived in.

“I’ll keep this short,” the teacher said. “This is Sim Jaeyun. He’s transferring in from Australia.”

Australia.

Whispers rose like static.

The new boy—Sim Jaeyun—gave a small bow. “Hi. Um, you can call me Jake.”

His voice was soft. A little unsure. But warm. It lilted gently, just enough to give away that English was probably the language he dreamed in. And when he smiled nervously, his eyes curved like the sun slipping past clouds.

Jay blinked. “Huh. He’s cute.”

Heeseung tilted his head. “He kinda is.”

Sunghoon didn’t say a word.

The teacher gestured toward the empty seat near their row. “Jake, you can take that desk, next to Sunghoon.”

The new boy nodded quickly, murmured a quiet thank you, and made his way over. He moved like someone not used to drawing attention but constantly receiving it anyway.

Jay leaned over, loud whisper. “Aussie, huh?”

Jake blinked, startled. “Um, yeah.”

“I’m Jay. This is Heeseung. That’s Sunghoon.” Jay pointed casually to each of them, ignoring the sharp jab Heeseung gave to his side.

Jake nodded again, offering a small smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Sunghoon didn’t look up. He didn’t even flinch.

But his pencil stopped twirling.

Later, during break, Jay dragged Jake into the chaos of their snack hunt like they’d known each other for years. Heeseung, too tall to blend in anywhere, offered Jake part of his melon bread with a crooked grin.

“So what’s it like, moving here?” he asked, mouth half-full.

Jake sat with his legs crossed on the rooftop, warmth brushing his cheeks from the sun. “Weird. Different. Loud.”

Jay laughed. “Loud? We haven’t even introduced you to the music club.”

“You in the music club?” Jake asked.

Jay puffed up. “No, but I’ve dated three people in it.”

Jake choked on his juice. Heeseung sighed like he was used to this.

They talked like that—soft laughter and teasing, stories about Seoul and questions about Sydney—and Jake’s accent curled over every word like syrup. Sweet. Soft. Slow.

And still, through it all, Sunghoon stayed mostly silent. Occasionally nodding. Occasionally blinking like he was watching something he didn’t know how to name.

He didn’t speak to Jake that day.

Not even once.

But when the wind picked up and Jake sneezed—twice, with a little whimper at the end—Sunghoon slid his extra cardigan across the table without a word.

Jake blinked.

“Um… thanks?”

Sunghoon just looked at him. Dimples hidden. Eyes unreadable. But for a second, Heeseung thought he saw something there.

Something quiet. Something beginning.

Jay noticed too. Elbowed Heeseung. “Think our boy just found his weakness.”

This time, Heeseung did laugh. Soft and disbelieving.

“Bro,” he whispered. “He doesn’t even let us borrow his jackets.”

Jay’s grin stretched. “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

They watched as Jake folded the cardigan over his lap, sheepish, shy. And Sunghoon went back to sipping his juice like nothing happened.

But something had.

And both Jay and Heeseung knew—whatever it was, it was only getting started.

end of chapter