MINSUNG

Jisung had always hated Minho-ever since that first year, when he showed up with that smug smile and perfect hair. Years later: same university, same program, same team. Fate had a cruel sense of humor. They fought constantly, but the tension was too strong to be just hate. Then, in the lab, Jisung felt it -heat crawling under his skin, pulse racing. Minho's voice dropped. "You're in heat. Skipped your suppressors?" - "Yeah... can't you tell?"