...
Minghao and Junhui met when they were both seventeen, standing on opposite sides of the same crowded room. Minghao was quiet, his gaze focused on the floor as people buzzed around him. He never felt like he truly belonged, always an outsider watching from the edges. But Junhui was different — he seemed to light up any space he walked into, his smile infectious, his laughter like sunlight breaking through clouds.
They were introduced by a mutual friend at a party neither of them really wanted to be at. Minghao had been ready to slip away, to vanish into the night like he always did, but when Junhui walked over and extended a hand, there was something in his eyes that made Minghao stay.
"Hi, I'm Junhui," he'd said, his smile warm, easy.
Minghao hesitated for a moment, then shook his hand. "Minghao."
They didn’t speak much that night, just exchanged a few polite words, but something about that brief interaction stuck with Minghao. Maybe it was the way Junhui’s smile lingered, or the way his gaze had softened when he looked at him. Whatever it was, Minghao found himself thinking about Junhui more than he expected.
Weeks passed, and they began to see each other more often — in school hallways, at coffee shops, at gatherings with friends. Each time, Junhui would smile that same warm smile, and Minghao’s chest would tighten a little, though he couldn’t explain why. They started talking more, getting to know each other. Junhui was persistent, always finding ways to include Minghao, even when Minghao tried to keep his distance.
Minghao wasn’t used to being wanted, and the closer Junhui got, the more scared he became. He was terrified of letting Junhui in, of showing him the parts of himself he kept hidden. Junhui was everything Minghao wasn’t — confident, carefree, kind. Minghao didn’t want to drag Junhui into his own storm of self-doubt and loneliness.
But Junhui didn’t see it that way. He saw the way Minghao’s eyes would light up when he talked about something he was passionate about, the way his hands fidgeted when he was nervous. Junhui saw through the walls Minghao had built around himself, and he wasn’t afraid to break them down, piece by piece.
One evening, after they’d been hanging out for months, Junhui and Minghao found themselves sitting on a park bench, watching the sun set over the city. The air was cool, and the world felt quiet, like it was just the two of them.
Minghao was lost in thought when Junhui suddenly spoke. "You know," he said softly, "I care about you. A lot."
Minghao’s heart skipped a beat, but he didn’t look at Junhui. Instead, he kept his eyes on the horizon, his chest tightening with fear. "Why?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Junhui frowned, turning to face him. "What do you mean, why?"
Minghao let out a shaky breath, his hands gripping the edge of the bench. "I’m not… I’m not like you, Jun. I’m not good at this. I’m not good at… people."
Junhui’s expression softened. He reached out, gently placing a hand on Minghao’s knee. "You don’t have to be perfect, Hao. I don’t want you to be. I just want you."
Minghao finally turned to look at Junhui, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. "You don’t get it," he murmured, his voice breaking. "I’ll mess this up. I always do."
Junhui’s heart ached at the sight of Minghao’s vulnerability, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned in, his voice gentle but firm. "You won’t mess this up, Minghao. I’m not going anywhere."
Minghao swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears from falling. He wanted to believe Junhui, wanted to let himself fall into this — into them — but the fear was too strong.
"I’m scared," Minghao whispered, his voice barely audible.
Junhui smiled softly, squeezing Minghao’s knee. "I know. But I’m here, okay? I’m not going to let you go through this alone."
That was the night they kissed for the first time, a soft, tentative kiss that lingered in the cool evening air. And for the first time in a long time, Minghao felt like maybe — just maybe — he didn’t have to be alone anymore.
---
But love wasn’t as easy as that one perfect moment. Over time, Minghao’s insecurities crept in, like shadows following him everywhere he went. He’d distance himself from Junhui, pushing him away when he got too close, terrified of hurting him. He’d make excuses, pull back whenever he felt his heart getting too involved.
Junhui, however, was patient. He understood Minghao’s fears, and though it hurt him to be pushed away, he never gave up. He kept showing up, kept reminding Minghao that he wasn’t going anywhere.
But the breaking point came during a particularly bad argument, one born from Minghao’s frustration with himself more than anything else. They were sitting in Minghao’s room, and Minghao, feeling overwhelmed, snapped.
"You deserve someone better," he’d said, his voice cold, though his heart was breaking. "Someone who won’t make things so hard."
Junhui had stared at him, hurt and confusion swirling in his eyes. "What are you saying, Hao?"
Minghao couldn’t look at him. "I’m saying you should find someone else."
Silence filled the room, heavy and suffocating. Junhui’s heart shattered at Minghao’s words, but deep down, he knew this wasn’t what Minghao really wanted. It was his fear talking, his insecurities.
After a long moment, Junhui stood up, but instead of leaving, he walked over to Minghao and pulled him into a tight embrace. Minghao tensed at first, but Junhui didn’t let go.
"I’m not leaving you," Junhui whispered fiercely, his voice cracking with emotion. "I love you, Minghao. I love you — the real you, even when you’re scared, even when you push me away. I’m not going anywhere."
Minghao’s walls crumbled. He clutched at Junhui’s shirt, burying his face in his chest as the tears finally fell. "I’m sorry," he sobbed, his voice muffled. "I’m so scared, Jun. I don’t want to lose you."
"You won’t," Junhui murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Minghao’s head. "You won’t lose me, Hao. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere."
For the first time, Minghao let himself believe it. He let himself fall completely into Junhui’s arms, his heart pounding, but this time it wasn’t from fear. It was from love — from the realization that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to be alone in this.
---
From that day on, things changed. It wasn’t perfect — there were still moments of doubt, still times when Minghao’s insecurities flared up — but now, he didn’t have to face them alone. Junhui was always there, always reminding him that he was loved, that he was enough.
And as time passed, Minghao began to heal. He stopped pushing Junhui away, stopped doubting the love they shared. He let himself be loved, flaws and all.
Because at the end of the day, Junhui’s words had been true all along:
"I love you so... just as you are."
And that was enough.
