Early the next morning, Su Peng yawned as he climbed out of An Han’s bed.

Sleep after drinking was never restful—especially in an unfamiliar bed. He’d probably dozed off near midnight, yet woke again by five or six.

He stared blankly at the ceiling. A faint, delicate fragrance drifted from the sheets. The hangover headache eased just a little the moment he caught the scent.

“Smells like An Han… Is it perfume?”

He couldn’t quite picture a guy wearing perfume—but on An Han? Not surprising at all.

The clacking of keyboard and mouse reached his ears. Su Peng peeked over the bed’s edge. Sure enough, An Han sat hunched at his desk, bloodshot eyes locked on the screen after an all-night gaming session.

The dorm—once messy from last night’s barbecue and beer—was spotless. The vomit-stained mattress and bedding were washed clean and hung on the balcony.

“You really didn’t sleep *at all* last night?”

An Han glanced up briefly before diving back into battle. “Mm. Didn’t sleep.”

“You washed the bedding too?”

“Mm. Problem?”

“N-nothing.”

Just… hard to believe An Han handled chores so effortlessly. Su Peng had assumed he was just like him—someone who never lifted a finger around the house. But An Han? Clearly better at it.

Clutching his still-throbbing head, Su Peng wobbled out of bed, rubbed his bleary eyes, and stepped behind An Han.

An Han turned. Su Peng offered a sheepish smile.

“I really can’t drink anymore. Makes me throw up.” He shook his head helplessly.

“No worries. I’ll clean up.” (An Han secretly hoped the next mission could also be solved with alcohol.)

The game ended right then. An Han stretched with a series of yawns. “Dead tired. You didn’t even shower—I bet my bed reeks of booze.”

“Sorry… Breakfast first? My treat.”

“Nah, I’ll just crash.”

“And air out the alcohol smell.” Before An Han could protest, Su Peng slipped out.

Yesterday’s typhoon had softened to a light drizzle. Moisture hung thick even indoors. At this hour—sun not yet up—the air felt refreshingly cool.

An Han propped both dorm doors open, then leaned drowsily against the wardrobe, afraid sitting down would send him straight to sleep.

He’d woken at eight yesterday. Beer. All-nighter. Now running purely on gaming adrenaline.

*Only five affection points left!*

*Can’t collapse now!*

*Maybe pull something off during breakfast…*

He forced his brain to churn—anything to stay awake.

Ten minutes later, a yawn escaped him. Arms crossed, head drooping, he dozed off standing.

…

Su Peng returned slowly, breakfast bag in hand. Through the open door, he saw An Han curled on the floor—knees drawn, face buried in his arms.

Su Peng froze. Stepped inside. Closed the door softly.

“Not worried about thieves?” he muttered, setting the food down. His gaze drifted back.

*So petite.*

He couldn’t believe the word fit an adult guy—but it was the only one his brain offered.

Most of An Han’s face hid in his arms, revealing only delicate ears and porcelain cheeks. In shorts, his fair, gracefully curved calves gleamed in the air.

Golden dawn light spilled through the balcony, gilding his skin. He looked ethereally beautiful—like a celestial being descended to earth.

*So beautiful~*

Mesmerized, Su Peng snapped a photo. Then froze.

*Wait… I think a guy is beautiful?*

Honestly, An Han’s features were merely above average. But that blend of masculine and feminine charm? Strangely captivating.

Su Peng broke the quiet scene. “Wake up. Eat. Then sleep.”

An Han jolted awake. Head lifted dazedly, sleep-tears glistening. He looked up at Su Peng, voice hoarse and pitiful yet oddly alluring: “You’re back… I waited so long…”

“Canteen wasn’t open. Got breakfast off-campus.” Su Peng’s tone softened. “Pork buns and soy milk. For you.”

“Mm.”

An Han pushed up, rubbing sleepy eyes. “Must… make me eat…”

“Bad for your stomach.”

“I know.”

(He knew. Didn’t care. Only started eating breakfast in college. If it hurt his gut, he’d be sick by now.)

At the desk, he nibbled drowsily. Head drooped—jerked up. Bit the bun eyes closed. Drooped again. Jolted awake. Repeat.

“Damn! Bit my hand!” He yelped, jumping up.

“Who eats blind? Finish and sleep.”

The sting sharpened his focus. He devoured both fist-sized buns and scrambled into bed.

Under the covers, sleep washed over him.

His little nose twitched slightly—catching alcohol traces… and something else. Warm. Comforting.

Before his mind could name it, darkness took him.

Su Peng stood watching An Han vanish into sleep.

Silent. Gazing at that peaceful face.

Finally, he sighed, returned to the desk, and murmured:

“Something’s wrong…”

He’d always disliked overly flamboyant K-pop idols. Hated men who acted “girly” just to mimic girls—forced, awkward.

But now he saw it clearly: he didn’t hate gentleness. He hated *fakeness*.

If someone had An Han’s natural charm—soft yet seamless, cute without trying…

…he might actually like it.

“My mindset’s totally messed up!”