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xuchiya · 3 months ago

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Young Gen Love || jeong yunho || 800 follower special

| genre: fluff. slice of life. slow-burn-ish | mentions: nothing much. just a little anxiety but it is more of yunho being a gentleman.

thank you all so much, my loves! My journey here in this platform has been amazing, met a lot and lots of my loves! 🤍🥹

January 16, 2025

It was my first day on my night classes that my mom told me to apply to since it coordinates with my chosen course in college. I walk in the computer classroom, greeting everyone and the professor, I sat at the back and settle my bag down. Night classes always had a different kind of energy—dimly lit hallways, the hum of fluorescent lights, and the quiet murmur of students trying to absorb the lessons after an already long day.

I scanned my surroundings. Most of my classmates were older—some around my parents’ age, others even older. They were here to learn the basics of computers, eager but sometimes struggling with the difference between software and hardware. I admired their determination, but at the same time, a small disappointment settled in my chest.

There was no one my age. And it would be fun having someone close or older or younger than me would be my classmate, I spun on my chair, turning on my designated computer.

Just as I resigned myself to being the odd one out, the door creaked open. A tall figure walked in, gripping the strap of his backpack. Brunette hair slightly tousled, sharp eyes taking in the room, a quiet but undeniable presence. Our professor gestured for him to introduce himself.

"I'm Jeong Yunho, I'm 24 and ..." he said, voice steady, but there was a hint of nervousness underneath. "I’m here to learn more about computers. I only have basic knowledge, so... please take care of me." He bows his head before moving towards his seat which was just on my right side.

My lips quirked up.

He was a few months younger than me—just a small gap—but enough to make me feel relieved. I wasn’t alone anymore.

For two weeks, we didn’t speak. We barely even acknowledged each other kudos to my stuttering and introverted personality, but slowly, the class dynamics shifted. People became more comfortable, more familiar. I started moving around, observing other groups engagin conversatoins with them and having few shared laughters, taking notes on how they configured the computers, absorbing techniques like a sponge.

One night, I found myself hovering near his table. He was struggling on one of the tasks. Yunho was focused, brows furrowed as he listened to our professor’s explanation, his hands hovering uncertainly over the keyboard. He was clearly still learning, still figuring things out, but he was determined.

He always came to face the same error for the past 5 minutes until he sighs, "I have to redo this again ..." I chuckle, pulling a chair beside him, "You just miss one step that's why you were facing this error ... let me help."

He glances at me before nodding. He followed my instructions, even explaining to him why it needs to apply or how it functions when applied. He nods as we finish the task, he sighs in relief, turning to me.

"You're good." Yunho compliments. I chuckle, waving off his compliment but that didn't stop my cheeks from burning.

"No I'm not. I barely started my task." He looks at my open computer then back to me. A playful look on his eyebrows, "Or you're just lying to me right now and finished hours ago."

I chuckle shaking my head, "Believe me, I haven't even open File explorer."

Somehow, without realizing it, we started spending more time together—small moments, like exchanging notes, grabbing snacks during breaks, or sharing casual stories. Weeks passed, turning into months, and something about him pulled me in.

And that's where I started to notice things.

February 13, 2025

The night air was crisp, the streetlights casting a soft yellow glow along the sidewalk. The usual post-class chatter had faded as our classmates rushed off to catch their trains, leaving just the two of us walking down the main road toward my bus stop.

The city was still alive—cars rolling past with their headlights cutting through the night, distant honks echoing, and the occasional murmur of people walking ahead. I pulled my jacket tighter around me, my bag slung over one shoulder, as Yunho walked in step beside me, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.

I didn't think much of it at first, but as we walked, I noticed the way he moved—subtle, instinctive. When I unconsciously veered too close to the curb, he shifted, placing himself between me and the street without a word. I glanced up at him, but his face remained neutral, as if he hadn’t even realized he was doing it.

Curious, I tested it. I deliberately took a step closer to the road, pretending to adjust my bag strap.

Without missing a beat, he adjusted too, his shoulder brushing mine as he once again positioned himself between me and the passing cars.

I bit back a smile. But then I tried to walk in front of him, doing a little skip as I near to the road to see if he’d follow.

And he did.

A hand was suddenly were on my shoulder and pushes me gently back on the sidewalk and position himself beside me. A warmth spread through my chest. It wasn’t exaggerated. It wasn’t done for attention. He simply moved with me, like an unspoken promise to keep me safe.

"You know the rule" I finally murmured, breaking the comfortable silence. He turned his head slightly, looking down at me with mild confusion. "What rule?"

"The sidewalk rule." I lifted a brow, tilting my head toward him. For a moment, he didn’t respond, just kept walking. Then, he let out a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, his ears turning red. "It’s just a habit, I guess."

"A habit?"

"Yeah." His voice was softer now. "I was raised to always walk on the side closest to the street when I’m with someone I—" He paused, clearing his throat, looking away. "—when I’m with someone important."

My breath hitched.

I turned my head away, hoping the cool air would calm the sudden rush of warmth creeping up my neck. My heart pounded so loudly I was certain he could hear it.

We walked in silence for a few more steps until the bus stop came into view. Yunho slowed his pace beside me, as if reluctant to reach it too soon.

And I realized, at that moment, I didn’t want the walk to end either.

February 21, 2025

It was late, the night air cool as our group made their way down the sidewalk towards the train station. Streetlights flickered overhead, their warm glow casting long shadows along the pavement. Conversations were scattered—some laughing, some yawning, everyone eager to get home after another long class.

As we approached my usual bus stop, the others barely slowed, waving quick goodbyes as they hurried off to catch their trains. I watched them disappear down the road, my breath fogging slightly in the chilly air.

All except one.

"You guys go ahead," Yunho’s voice came from beside me. His hands were stuffed into his jacket pockets, his posture relaxed, yet there was an undeniable certainty in his tone. "I'll wait for her til' the bus comes."

I froze.

My heart stuttered so hard I thought for sure he'd hear it. I turned slightly, expecting some kind of teasing grin, but there was none. Just him, standing there as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The others didn’t question it. They just nodded and waved, disappearing into the night. And suddenly, it was just the two of us.

The bus stop felt quieter than usual, the occasional car humming past as we stood beneath the soft glow of the streetlight. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened. "You really didn’t have to wait, you know," I murmured, glancing up at him.

He shrugged. "It’s fine." Then, a small smirk tugged at his lips. "Can’t have you standing out here all alone, can I?"

I swallowed, warmth creeping up my neck.

For the next few minutes, we talked—about class, about the ridiculous things our professor said that night, about how our classmates were still struggling with the configurations. His voice was smooth, casual, as if this was just another normal moment. But for me?

I was barely keeping it together.

The way he stood close enough that our arms almost brushed. The way his laughter rumbled softly in the quiet night. The way he looked down at me whenever I spoke, his eyes warm and focused, like nothing else existed in that moment but me.

Then, headlights appeared in the distance. My bus.

I felt a strange disappointment settle in my chest. As the bus slowed to a stop, I turned to him, unsure of what to say. "Thanks for waiting with me," I said, my voice softer than intended.

Yunho just smiled, tilting his head slightly. "Of course."

I took a step toward the open doors, but before I could climb in, I felt a gentle tug on my wrist.

I turned, wide-eyed. Yunho’s fingers curled lightly around mine, his grip warm even in the cold air, "Get home safe ... I-" he said, his voice quieter now, more intentional yet cutting himself off which made me curious.

And then, just like that, he let go, stepping back with an easy smile, as if he hadn’t just tilted my entire world.

I somehow managed to get on the bus, my legs feeling suspiciously weak. As the doors closed and the vehicle pulled away, I turned toward the window, watching as he stood there, hands back in his pockets, watching me leave.

He didn’t move until I was completely out of sight.

I barely survived that night without combusting.

February 26, 2025

I was late.

Again.

The clock glared at me with red, unrelenting numbers as I rushed out of my internship office, my heart pounding with a mix of exhaustion and urgency. The overtime had stretched longer than expected, eating into my class hours, and by the time I finally made it to the campus, an entire hour had slipped through my fingers.

I hated this. Hated the way I stumbled into the classroom, breathless, trying to make myself as invisible as possible while my professor continued the discussion without sparing me a glance. But I knew he noticed. His sharp, fleeting glance from the corner of his eye said enough.

I barely managed to slide into a chair before the weight of my lateness pressed into my chest like a cinderblock. The screen in front of me was filled with configuration steps and code I had no context for. My classmates were already deep into the task, their fingers flying over keyboards with an ease that only familiarity could bring.

I was lost.

The frustration built in my throat, burning hot and bitter. My fingers hovered uselessly over my touchpad as my eyes flickered between the screen and my classmates' progress. I tried to piece together what I had missed, but the more I stared, the more my thoughts tangled into a suffocating mess.

Then, a voice.

Low, familiar—steady.

"You okay?"

I blinked, snapping out of my panic just enough to register the presence beside me.

Yunho.

When had he moved closer? He had been at one of our classmate's table earlier helping on the task, but now he was right beside me, his presence a quiet force against my frazzled nerves. His scent—rich, chocolate-sweet cologne—wrapped around me, grounding and distracting all at once.

I turned my head slightly, and that’s when I realized just how close he was.

Too close.

He wasn’t even pretending to keep a respectable distance. His shoulder nearly brushed mine, his face mere inches away. The dim glow of the computer monitor cast soft shadows across his features, making the sharp angles of his jawline look impossibly gentle.

I nodded, moving to one of our friend's computer as he navigates the task, I watch the task unfolding, hoping I could catch up but with Yunho's presence really close to me was a challenge I don't think I'll success.

A small smile tugged at his lips, almost amused. "Focus," he murmured, voice dipping lower. "I need you to teach me."

Teach him?

The irony almost made me laugh. I was the one barely keeping my head above water, the one scrambling to understand what I had missed, and yet here he was—acting like I had everything under control.

But there was something in his tone. Something reassuring, something that pulled me away from my spiraling frustration and anchored me to the moment.

To him.

I swallowed, forcing myself to nod. "Right. Okay."

I tried to focus, I really did.

But every time he leaned in to ask our friend what he did, every time his voice brushed against my ear, my brain short-circuited. The deep timbre of his words sent shivers down my spine, making it nearly impossible to concentrate.

At one point, I had been leaning forward too long, my back protesting from the awkward position. I shifted, stretching slightly as I took a small step back—only for my heel to catch against something solid.

A box.

A stupid box filled with unused wires.

I barely had time to gasp before I lost my balance, the world tilting as I braced for impact. But I never hit the ground.

Warm hands caught me. One gripping my waist, firm and steady. The other securing my forearm, his fingers wrapping around my wrist like a lifeline.

My breath hitched.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The air between us was thick, electric, charged with something unspoken. My heart pounded wildly against my ribs as I slowly lifted my gaze, and that’s when I realized—he was staring at me.

Really staring.

His expression had shifted from his usual playful ease to something deeper, something unreadable. His dark eyes searched mine, his grip on me unwavering.

"You okay?" His voice had softened, laced with concern.

I could barely breathe. My entire body was frozen, caught in the intensity of his gaze, in the warmth of his hands still steadying me.

I nodded—too quickly. "Y-Yeah. I just—I should—" I cleared my throat, forcing my voice to sound normal. "I should get back to my seat."

His hands lingered for half a second longer before he finally let go, and I nearly stumbled again—not because of the wires this time, but because my knees felt ridiculously weak.

I didn’t dare look at him as I hurried back to my seat, my heart still hammering, my skin burning where his hands had been.

But minutes later, a chair scraped against the floor, and before I knew it, he was sitting behind me. I inhaled sharply, trying to calm my racing pulse, "Go to the partition first," Yunho instructed, his voice steady, as if nothing had just happened. "You need a drive to place your folder."

I nodded, gripping the mouse, determined to focus. But my fingers didn’t move the pointer to the right place.

He noticed, "There," he pointed, his patience unwavering.

I tried again. Fumbled. And then—his hand covered mine. Large. Warm. Steady. Guiding the mouse effortlessly, his fingers brushed against mine, sending a sharp jolt of electricity up my spine.

My breath hitched. My whole body stiffened. The world outside this moment ceased to exist. The quiet murmurs of our classmates, the soft hum of the computers, the faint tapping of keyboards—it all faded into nothingness.

All I could focus on was him.

His warmth against my skin.

The way his fingers curled slightly over mine, his grip neither forceful nor hesitant, just there—as if this wasn’t something he had to think about, as if guiding my hand was the most natural thing in the world.

Seconds stretched endlessly. I forgot how to breathe, forgot how to think, forgot how to function.

He didn’t move.

Neither did I.

The space between us shrank, charged with something unspoken, something that made the air feel heavier. I could feel his breath ghosting near my temple, slow and steady, in complete contrast to the erratic drumming of my own heartbeat.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry.

I should pull away. I should.

But I didn’t. Because for all the chaos in my head, for all the ways my body betrayed me with its nervous tremors, there was one undeniable truth—

I liked this.

I like him.

March 14, 2025

Guilt settled heavily on my chest as I walked toward campus, my steps slower than usual.

I had clocked out overtime again, staying later than planned at my internship. It was becoming a habit, one that weighed on me more than I cared to admit. The familiar exhaustion clung to my body, but it was nothing compared to the quiet guilt pressing down on me.

By the time I arrived at my night class, the discussion had already been going on for an hour. I barely took a breath before sliding the door open.

The creak of the door was louder than I intended, loud enough to make heads turn. The room fell into momentary silence, the professor pausing mid-sentence.

I bowed my head slightly. "Sorry I’m late."

Keeping my voice steady, I gently closed the door behind me. My friends greeted me with small smiles as I passed, but I barely acknowledged them. My mind was still occupied—by my professor’s earlier warning, by the weight of my internship hours, by the nagging feeling that I was always two steps behind.

I settled into my seat, adjusting my chair as I exhaled quietly. It was only then that I felt it. I didn’t have to look to know whose they were.

Even as I focused on my computer, booting it up, I could feel his gaze lingering on me—not intrusive, just there. A quiet presence, unwavering, as if he had been waiting.

The soft glow of my friend’s screen pulled my attention. They were exchanging files, peer-to-peer, laughing as they successfully transferred them. The energy in the room felt light, carefree—so different from the tightness in my chest.

I sighed, rubbing at my temple before shifting my gaze to the board. The task was written clearly, the instructions laid out in neat bullet points. I had to catch up. Again.

"You'll catch up quickly." His voice cut through my thoughts just as a familiar scent—warm, chocolate-sweet cologne—wrapped around me.

My body instantly relaxed.

I leaned back slightly, eyes flickering to my side, where Yunho sat comfortably beside me. He wasn’t even looking at his own screen—just watching me with a quiet sort of amusement.

I scoffed lightly, turning back to my task. "Barely…"

He noticed something in my tone, something unspoken. His breath came out in a quiet sigh. "You don’t have to worry about being late when you can catch up this fast."

I turned to him, frowning slightly. "If only I wasn’t being called out…"

Before he could respond, one of our classmates announced that we could take a break. I grabbed my snacks and drink, slipping out of the room before the air inside became too suffocating.

The campus at night was quiet, peaceful.

Most of the buildings were dark, the hallways emptied out as students took their breaks in small groups. I walked up a few steps, my feet leading me instinctively to the open soccer field. It wasn’t particularly grand—just an expanse of grass surrounded by empty bleachers—but the sky above it made all the difference.

Stars.

They scattered across the vast darkness, twinkling softly, stretching endlessly beyond my reach. The sight alone eased some of the tightness in my chest, the weight of the day slowly lifting.

I sat on the benches, nibbling on a cookie from my container, my gaze locked onto the sky. The quiet, the solitude—it was exactly what I needed.

Until I felt presence sat beside me, his usual cologne had been my cravings ever since and I didn’t need to look to know who it was. He didn’t say anything at first, simply making himself comfortable next to me.

"Stars make you calm."

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. A fact. A truth only he seemed to know.

I glanced at him, but he was already looking at the sky, his features relaxed in the dim glow of the field lights. Something about the way he sat beside me—so effortlessly, as if he belonged there—made my chest ache in a way I couldn’t quite name.

Without thinking, I tilted my cookie container toward him in silent offering. He glanced down, a small smile playing on his lips before he shook his head. "I’m good."

I shrugged, taking another bite, savoring the sweetness on my tongue as the night stretched around us. The air was cool, tinged with the distant scent of damp grass, and the silence between us was easy—comfortable in a way that made my heart ache.

Then I noticed an arm—his arm—outstretched just behind me.

Not quite touching. Not quite reaching. Just there.

I glanced down, my breath catching slightly when I saw his hand resting flat on the seat, fingers lightly curled against the worn wood, mere inches from where I sat. Close enough that if I leaned back even slightly, I would feel the warmth of him.

For a moment, my mind raced. Had he meant to do that? Or was it just a natural movement? But then I realized—this bench had no backrest. And his arm wasn’t just there.

It was there for me.

A quiet, unspoken shield. A presence that kept me from leaning too far back, from losing balance on the edge of the bench. A silent protection. My throat tightened, a warmth blooming in my chest that had nothing to do with the night air.

I swallowed hard, staring back up at the stars as if I hadn’t noticed. But I had. And from the way Yunho sat, his posture relaxed yet deliberate, I knew he had too.

Class had ended, but I wasn’t free just yet. I lingered in the quiet classroom, shifting my weight from foot to foot as my professor gave me a patient but pointed look.

"I know your internship keeps you busy," he said, his voice gentle yet firm. "But you’re missing too much of the discussion. Try to balance it better, alright?"

Guilt pricked at my chest. I nodded, murmuring an apology, though my mind was already running through the hours I had spent at my internship today. The exhaustion from overtime clung to me like a second skin, pressing into my shoulders, but I couldn’t let it show.

As I stepped out of the classroom, the hallway stretched before me, eerily empty. The faint hum of a vending machine buzzed from the corner, the overhead fluorescent lights flickering slightly, casting soft shadows on the polished tiles.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. I adjusted the strap of my bag and headed for the exit. A shadow shifted near the corner of the hallway, just beyond the reach of the dim light. My breath hitched, my pulse jumping in surprise.

"Ah!—" I barely had time to react before a familiar chuckle cut through the silence.

"Did I scare you?" He stepped forward, emerging from the dim glow like a scene straight out of a dream. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his dark jacket, the fabric slightly wrinkled from the way he had been leaning against the wall. His hair was tousled, the strands catching the light in a way that made my heart stutter.

My shoulders relaxed, but my pulse refused to slow down. "Argh! Yunho!" He chuckles as we walk down the hallway, I turn to him frowning, "What are you doing here? I thought you left with the others."

He shrugged, falling into step beside me as we exited the building. "I figured you’d be held back."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You figured?" He turned his head slightly, giving me a look that made my stomach flip. "You were late today, figured Sir Coups will speak to you. Again."

Heat crept up my neck. I tried to look indifferent, but the knowing glint in his eyes told me he had already seen through me. Before I could defend myself, he nudged my arm lightly.

I blinked up at him. "What?"

"Smile… You look pretty." he murmured, his voice carried something unspoken. I shake my head but my lips still curled up into a small smile.

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it was charged—thick with something lingering between us, something neither of us had yet put into words. The air felt heavier, warmer, despite the cool night breeze brushing against my skin.

We reached the front gate, and I instinctively slowed my steps, scanning the road for any sign of my bus. But there was nothing. No buses, no jeepneys, no taxis—just the dimly lit street stretching into the distance, eerily quiet. I was hoping a bus or anything will pass by so I could climb in as soon as possible.

But looks like fate has different plans.

With a resigned sigh, I started walking toward the next stop, and as expected, Yunho followed without hesitation.

The streetlights cast long shadows as we walked, the soft glow bouncing off the pavement. The only sounds were the distant hum of traffic and the rhythmic steps of our shoes against the sidewalk.

I hesitated before speaking. "Won’t your parents worry about you getting home this late?" He exhaled a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "No, they don’t mind… as long as they know I get you home safely."

I stopped mid-step.

For a moment, everything around me faded—the city lights, the distant sounds of passing cars, even the cool breeze nipping at my skin. My heart thudded violently in my chest, so loud I was sure he could hear it.

My smartwatch vibrated against my wrist. Abnormal pulse detected.

Of course. Of course, it did. Not with him for always making my heart abnormally fast!

I swallowed thickly, my face burning. Get me home safely? Had he really just said that? So casually, as if it was the most natural thing in the world? Before I could fully recover, Yunho turned slightly, his expression amused. "You okay? You look a little—"

"I’m fine!" I blurted out, shoving his arm lightly as I marched ahead, desperate to escape the warmth blooming across my face. He let out a soft laugh, the sound deep and rich, but he didn’t push me further. Instead, he fell back into step beside me, hands still tucked in his pockets.

A few more minutes passed before my bus finally appeared in the distance, its headlights cutting through the dim glow of the streetlamps. I exhaled in relief, stepping forward as it slowed to a stop.

But just as I reached for the handrails, something warm wrapped around my wrist.

I turned—and everything stopped.

Yunho’s fingers curled gently around mine, his grip neither loose nor forceful. Just enough to hold me there. Just enough to make my breath hitch.

The warmth of his touch seeped into my skin, spreading like wildfire through my veins. I looked up, wide-eyed, and he only smiled—a soft, knowing smile that made my stomach twist in the most unbearable way.

"Get home safe," he murmured, his voice quieter now, deeper, as if he were speaking directly into my soul. And there was no longer hesitation in his eyes. "I still need to take you out on a date."

My brain short-circuited.

A date?

Before I could even process it, before I could react, before I could breathe—

He lifted my hand and pressed a soft, feather-light kiss against the back of it.

The world blurred.

The sounds of the city dulled into silence.

Even my own heartbeat seemed to pause, as if it couldn’t decide whether to stop completely or speed up until it burst. His lips barely lingered for a second, but the warmth of his touch burned into my skin, leaving behind something I knew I’d never forget.

The bus doors hissed open behind me, but my feet refused to move. I stared at him, my mind racing, my heart a mess of erratic beats.

Yunho pulled away, his eyes never leaving mine. His fingers slowly slipped from my wrist, the absence of his touch leaving a void I wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

The driver cleared his throat, snapping me out of my trance. Dazed, I stepped onto the bus, my legs trembling beneath me.

The doors slid shut. The bus rolled forward.

Through the glass window, I saw him—standing on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, watching with a smile on his lips until I was gone. A breath I hadn’t realized I was holding escaped my lips.

The bus driver chuckled, shaking his head as he glanced at me through the rearview mirror, "Young love," he mused, his voice tinged with amusement.

I swallowed, my fingers grazing the spot where Yunho’s lips had touched. A slow, giddy smile spread across my face.

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